CHAPTER TWELVE

The buzz of Shea's phone on the nightstand made him swear before he even got his eyes open. Who in the hell was calling at this hour?

He blinked, squinting at the phone in his dark bedroom but Dom's name on his screen made him freeze.

It could be that Dom had gone out with the boys for a drink and was feeling loose and horny but somehow Shea doubted it. He'd ignored Shea's messages for the past few days and hadn't played against Evanston tonight.

Both were concerning.

Shea hit Accept on the call. "Hey? You okay?"

"Shea."

"Yeah? What's going on?"

"Can't sleep." Dom yawned, as if to prove otherwise.

"You sound pretty sleepy," Shea pointed out, smiling, relaxing a little since it clearly wasn't an emergency.

Being unable to sleep wasn't usually something that prompted Dom to call him. Occasionally he'd text to see if Shea was awake and Shea would talk him through jerking off but even that wasn't the norm.

"Yeah. I'm on IR, you know?" Dom's sigh was mournful. "They won't let me play."

"I know. I saw you in the press box. How's your back feeling?"

"You watched the game?"

"Yeah. I missed the first period but I watched the rest."

Dom let out a little sigh. "We won. I think they're better without me."

"You've been out one game!" Shea protested. "And we all know Evanston's had a rough season."

"Yeah, but I suck . They play better when I'm not there fucking it up."

His voice had grown slower. A little sleepier.

It made worry ping inside Shea's brain. He flicked on the light, concern rising again. "Hey, did they give you something for the pain, Dom?"

"Yeah. I talked to the team doc tonight. Got something before bed."

"Okay. Do you remember what he gave you?" he asked.

"No. Some muscle relaxer, maybe? It starts with an F though, I think," Dom said.

"Flexeril?" Shea guessed.

"Yep. That's it."

"Well, I think you're maybe feeling the effects pretty hard," Shea said, frowning. "You seem a little off right now. How many did you take, Dom?"

"One before I laid down."

Okay. Well, that was something. For a minute there Shea had wondered if Dom had taken too many.

"Did you take anything else with it?" Shea asked.

"No. Just melatonin for sleep." Dom yawned again.

Shea frowned. Honestly, he wasn't sure if that would interact or not. "Have you had anything to drink?"

"Had two of those little bottles in the minibar after the game."

"Dom, I'm a little worried right now," Shea said, tension filling him. "A muscle relaxer in combination with alcohol, that's not great. You should maybe go talk to—"

"Nooo, I'm okay. I want to talk to you. Don't hang up," Dom pleaded.

"Okay, okay, I'm not hanging up," Shea said reassuringly. "We can keep talking."

God, this whole situation was ringing alarm bells for Shea. Was there anyone he could get word to so they could keep an eye on Dom? Shit. He didn't even know what hotel Dom was in right now.

"Maybe Murphy was right. I need to start thinking about my future but I don't want to."

"Murphy?" Shea frowned, trying to remember if there was anyone on the team with that name.

"Zane Murphy. American-born player. Left winger. Number 81. Drafted in '06, retired in '22 after he won the team's second Cup. Married to Ryan Hartinger."

Shea couldn't help the smile that crept across his face. Dom would have every player's info memorized.

"Oh, did you talk to Zane Murphy tonight?" Shea asked.

"Yeah. He works for the team's head office now and he stopped by the box to talk to me. I think maybe he thinks I'm gay." Dom yawned again.

"You are gay, Dom," Shea reminded him.

"True. But you can't tell anyone, 'kay?"

"I won't tell anyone, Dom," Shea reassured him.

"Bet Murphy thinks I should." Dom sounded almost mournful now.

"I think he would understand why you don't feel comfortable with it. From what I can tell, he's a good guy."

"Yeah, but he's changing the culture . He wants to fix the whole NHL."

"How do you feel about that?"

Dom sighed. "Dunno. Maybe it needs it. But maybe it sucks to be in the middle of all that."

"Why? In the middle of what?" Shea asked.

"Not everyone wants it to change, you know?"

"But you don't like some of the culture either, right?"

"No. Don't like the things some guys say about Jonah or Jordan. Hey, their names both start with J! Did you know that?" Dom sounded very surprised by this.

Shea smiled. "Yes, they do. And I did know that."

"Don't like that," Dom continued. "Not the names. The things guys say. Or the stuff they say about gay players. That's fucked up ."

"Yes."

"And I didn't like it back in LA when Coach called us girls. That was shitty. Have they met girl hockey players? They're good ." Dom sounded rather surprised by this too. "Canadian women have won more Olympic gold than the men."

"They are very talented," Shea agreed. He kinda wished Audra had been interested in hockey. She'd have been a menace on the ice.

"But like … I don't want everything to change. I don't wanna come out. I don't wanna feel like I have to."

"I know."

"I think that makes me a bad person."

Shea's eyes welled with unexpected tears. "No. It doesn't make you a bad person, Dom. Just a complicated one."

"I'm conp—complicated?"

"Yeah. But that's not bad either. You're just a little different than some of the other guys."

"I just want to be the same. My whole career. I never wanted to—didn't want to be different."

Shea wiped at his cheek because fuck, Dom baring his soul like this nearly broke Shea's heart. "I know."

"My dad. He wouldn't have liked it if I was."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Shea should stop this conversation. It was one thing to talk to Dom about stuff like this when he was sober and clear-headed but Shea knew damn well he had no idea what he was saying at the moment.

If he weren't on muscle relaxers, he wouldn't be talking like this. He wouldn't be so open.

It made Shea feel like he was doing something he shouldn't. Like he was prying for information when Dom was vulnerable, taking advantage of the situation.

But God, the opportunity to get to know Dom when his guard was down, to see what was behind all those walls …

And Shea absolutely wasn't okay with letting Dom go to sleep like this. Alcohol and Flexeril were both central nervous system depressants. If the combination slowed his breathing too much …

Torn with indecision about what to do, Shea hesitated.

Dom laughed. "My dad, he used to say ‘you need to toughen up, Dom!'. He said that a lot, you know?"

"I didn't know that," Shea said softly.

"Yeah. He thought I was weak. Called me a girl too, when I got hurt and cried."

Shea winced. Yeah, he was familiar with that approach. His dad hadn't been so different. He'd heard, Pick yourself up, Shea. You think you can make it to the NHL with an attitude like that? You're too soft, more times than he could count.

"Do you think he knew you were gay?" Shea asked.

"Yeah, maybe. I think he could somehow tell I wasn't like everyone else."

"Oh, Dom." Shea let out a sigh. "You … what about your mom? What did she do?"

"Dunno. She was gone a lot. Skating. Getting pregnant with me ruined her career, you know?"

Shea closed his eyes. Jesus. Dom was … Dom was holding on to a lot more pain than Shea had ever realized.

"She loved me though."

"Of course she did," Shea said soothingly. Because whether or not it was true, Dom needed to hear it right now.

"But she had to quit skating and become a coach. She's French, you know?"

"From France or Quebec?" Shea asked.

"France."

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah. Don't think I tell a lot of people about when I was growing up. Do you know that I'm why they got divorced? My parents, I mean."

Shea swallowed. "No, Dom. I didn't know that."

He laughed. "It's all my fault."

"What happened?"

"I walked in on him. He was … with a man."

What the fuck? Shea mouthed. " Who was with a man, Dom?"

"My father. He … he was fucking some guy."

Holy fuck. That—that maybe explained a lot.

"Your father was bisexual?"

"Dunno. Never asked. Haven't talked to him since. Haven't talked to my mom either."

"How old were you?" Shea asked. "When you walked in on them?"

"Nineteen. I told my mom. She got angry. Said it was none of my business. It'sss all my fault. I ruined their marriage and now I'm ruining the team," he slurred.

"Fuck," Shea said, swallowing hard. "Dom, baby …"

"Not a baby. I'm tough. I'm like the other boys. No one can tell I want things they don't. That I'm like him . I won't—I won't pretend like he did though. I won't have a wife I lie to. I promise. I'll be alone. It'll all be fine if I'm alone. Then I can't hurt anyone and they can't hurt me."

Shea clenched his jaw against the sob that threatened to burst forth.

Jesus. Dom was … he was so fucking vulnerable right now. So raw and honest and it made Shea's heart ache to see all of the little pieces that had come together and led to Dom becoming the man he was now.

Dom was hurting so badly inside and Shea hadn't realized how raw those wounds were. How tightly Dom kept it all bottled up inside.

For one wild second, Shea thought about searching for a flight to Chicago. But no, the team was already in Minnesota. They'd play there tomorrow and then head home to Toronto.

It was tempting to fly to Minnesota but fuck, if Shea was spotted there …

"Dom, are you still awake?" he asked urgently, because yeah, Dom needed someone to be there for him but even more than that, he needed someone to make sure he didn't accidentally stop breathing.

"Yeah. Jus' thinkin' about you." But Dom sounded even more dozy, his words coming a little slower and thicker.

"What about me?" Shea asked.

"Wishin' you were here."

"I wish I could be," Shea admitted. Falling asleep beside Dom the night of the fire had felt so nice.

"Do you know why I was thinkin' about you?"

"No, Dom. Why is that?" Shea asked.

"I have that salve you gave me."

"Salve?" Shea blinked. That was the last thing he'd expected. "What salve?"

"Dunno the name. You gave it to me a while ago. Last off-season, maybe."

More alarm bells went off in Shea's head. This time, too loud to ignore.

"The one with the orange label?"

"Yeahhh."

Shea sat upright. "Dom, did you use that salve before you had the muscle relaxer?"

"Before ‘n' after." Dom sounded proud of himself. "I've been using it a lot in the past few days."

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Shea muttered. "Dom, that salve is CBD based ."

"I know. Isss not banned though."

"Yes, but it has THC in it."

"Meh. League won't make a fuss. Lotsa guys use THC stuff now. Some smoke weed." Dom laughed. "You don't wanna know how many of them us'ta do coke in LA."

"I'm not worried about a drug test, Dom! You shouldn't have mixed THC with the Flexeril," Shea said urgently. "They have bad interactions. Especially on top of alcohol!"

"Nah. I'm fiiine."

"Dom, you are not fine," Shea said urgently, speaking louder. "I need you to do something for me."

"What?" He sounded groggy and irritated now.

"Get up. Get out of bed."

"But 'm tired."

"I know you are. But I need you to stand up. Can you do that for me, baby?"

There was a heavy groan. "Yeah. 'm standin'."

"Do you have clothes on?"

"Underwear."

"Yeah, good enough. Okay, get your keycard. Do you know where that is?"

"On the dresser. With my watch."

"Good. Grab the key card. Between Dustin, Matty, and the team doc or trainer, whose room is closest to yours?"

"Um, think Matty's a few rooms down. Dustin's 'cross the hall."

"I need you to go across the hall and knock on Dustin's door. Do you think you can do that for me?" Shea asked tightly.

"Dunno. I feel so tireddd ."

"Baby, I know you do. But I need you to go get Dustin, okay?"

"Gonna wake him up though," Dom protested.

"That's okay. He'll understand."

"'k."

To Shea's relief, he could hear Dom fumbling with the lock and then the slam of a door.

A few agonizing moments later, Shea heard a knock. The line was silent except for Dom's slow breathing.

"Hey, what's going on?" a man said, voice rough with sleep.

"Hi, Dustyyy. Shea tol' me ta come knock on your door."

"Shea? Who is Shea?" Dustin asked.

"M' stylist."

"What the hell Dom. Are you drunk ?" Dustin sounded incredulous.

"Dom, I need you to give Dustin your phone right now," Shea urged.

"Wanna talk to you," Dom protested.

"I know you do. But give Dustin the phone for a minute. Just one little minute. We can talk more later."

"Okay." Dom mumbled, his voice growing more distant. "Here's Shea. Wants to talk to you."

"What's going on?" Dustin demanded. "Who is this?"

"Hey, Dustin, it's Shea Barnett. I'm worried about Dom. He got a muscle relaxant from the team doc along with two shots of alcohol from the minibar. I think he accidentally used them along with some CBD salve I gave him. The salve has THC in it and Dom didn't realize how serious the interaction can be. Can you get the team doc and let him know? Also, he had a melatonin. Tell the doctor I'm concerned about the mixing of so many CNS depressants."

"I will. I am confused though. I thought you were a stylist . And that your name was Sawyer."

Shea huffed out a laugh despite the panic screaming in his gut. "I am. Sawyer is the name I go by when I do image consulting. But I also work as a physical therapist. I know what I'm talking about, I swear. You have to trust me."

"Okay. This makes more sense." Dustin sounded relieved. "But how serious is this? Do we need to take Dom to a hospital?"

"No, Shea'll take care of me," Dom slurred in the background. "He does that."

"I don't know that he needs a hospital, but your doc should be the one to make that call. Mostly, I'm worried about Dom being alone and his breathing stopping while he sleeps."

"Shit." Dustin sounded truly concerned now.

"Keep an eye on him, okay? It may not be as bad as I'm imagining but he's … he doesn't seem like himself right now and I don't feel comfortable with him being alone tonight."

"Hey? What's going on?" another man rasped, his voice distant, like he wasn't as close.

There was a rustling sound, and then Dustin's voice came, sounding a little muffled. "Matty, go get the team doc. Dom is a little fucked up from some muscle relaxers right now and we need to make sure Doc Strickland checks him out."

"Got it. Be right back."

There was a rustling sound and Dustin said, "Sorry, Shea, I've gotta let you go. Dom's upright but he's kinda turning into a dead weight and I need both hands to get him into the room."

"No, it's fine. Just take care of him for me, please."

The call abruptly ended and Shea put his head in his hands, his heart aching for Dom.

Physically, he'd probably be fine. Even if the worst happened and he stopped breathing, there were enough trained people around to keep him going until paramedics arrived.

But tomorrow, if Dom remembered any of it, he was going to regret everything he'd told Shea.

And all Shea could do was sit here, sick with worry, terrified for the man he loved.