CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"I have a confession to make," Shea said the following day, spinning in his work chair and fiddling with the mouse. He should be finishing updating patient notes but he'd called Dom instead when he'd realized his mistake.

"Okaayy …" Dom said slowly.

"I can't get together with you this weekend."

"Oh, well why didn't you say so?" Dom laughed. "Way to be dramatic."

Shea smothered a snort. Dom lecturing him about being dramatic was honestly the height of irony.

"I have a prior commitment," Shea admitted. "It slipped my mind and I'm sorry. I am usually careful about my schedule but …"

But he'd been a little distracted in the past few days.

"Client conflict?" Dom asked and Shea wondered if he was imagining the note of jealousy in Dom's tone.

Probably wishful thinking but hey, a guy could dream.

"No! Not a client. I'm driving to London for my mom's birthday. I asked her what she wanted for a gift this year and all she said was that she wanted my dad and me to sit down and share a meal with her."

The ‘without fighting' part went unsaid.

"Are you looking forward to that?" Dom asked.

"Ehh." Shea made a face. "Not super excited to drive a couple of hours each way but it'll be great to see her. And I miss my dad too. I just hate feeling tense the whole time wondering when he's going to say something snarky about my career choices, you know? Or, like, take what I said the wrong way. Which I'm totally guilty of doing to him too, but …"

"Anything I can do to help?" Dom asked after he fell silent.

"Send in a search and rescue team if I put up a distress signal?" Shea reached for a stress ball he kept on his desk and squeezed it.

"I don't know about that , but I could have a private plane there in under an hour, probably."

"Oh, ha-ha," Shea said.

"I'm serious!" Dom protested.

"Well, pretty sure that won't help with our little gossip blog situation," Shea countered because what the fuck else was he supposed to say to an offer like that.

"True. Well, maybe I'm not that helpful then." Dom sounded a little deflated.

"No, honestly, having someone to talk to about it helps a lot. You know, you get what overbearing hockey dads are like—"

"When have I talked about my dad with you?" Dom sounded confused.

Shit, Dom didn't remember telling him any of that.

"I meant in general," Shea said vaguely, scrambling to cover his mistake. "You're familiar with the way they get. I know you had teammates in Juniors whose dads were convinced their kid was going to be the next superstar and got totally obnoxious."

"Oh, yeah. True."

"Anyway, you get what they're like. Nothing you ever do is good enough. And like I said the other night, it all went to hell after I decided to go to college. We've been trying to work on our relationship for a while now but it's still weird and awkward sometimes. We talked a little after my birthday and managed to avoid any blowups but I—I don't know. We react badly to each other, you know? Like there are those people who push your buttons without even trying."

"Hockey dads," Dom said flatly.

"Exactly." Shea felt a surge of relief at the way Dom got him.

"Well, if you won't accept an offer of a private jet in case of an emergency, how about another cake? Would bribery with baked goods work?"

Shea laughed. "No, thanks. I'm set. I already ordered my mom something from that bakery actually." It had been expensive as hell too.

"Yeah? I take it you liked it? You never said one way or the other."

Guiltily, Shea realized he hadn't. "Sorry! It was fantastic. Audra and I enjoyed every bite. Which means she ate about three quarters of it, then batted her lashes and said it counted as emergency chocolate during her period. Which, hey, I usually make sure I throw some extra bars into the grocery order but you know what women are like when they're craving chocolate. There's never enough!"

"Uhh, no. I can't say I know much about women and their chocolate cravings," Dom said.

Huh. True. Dom didn't date women. And as far as Shea knew, Dom was an only child and he'd been away from home playing hockey since he was about fifteen.

He probably spent almost no time with women at all, except for the ones working for the franchise and maybe the wives and female partners of his teammates.

Weird.

Shea cleared his throat. "Right. Anyway. The cake was phenomenal. The next time Audra goes out of town I'm ordering one for myself and refusing to share it with anyone."

"Even me?" Dom teased.

"I might make an exception for you," Shea admitted with a smile.

He'd made a lot of exceptions for Dom over the years. But now was not the time to get into his questionable life choices.

"So how about you?" Shea asked, spinning in his chair again, but this time to get up and walk.

"What about me?"

"How's your week going so far?" It had only been a few days since they spent the night together but it felt like it had been much longer than that.

Dom groaned. "Ugh. Don't ask."

"Okay …" Shea said. Well, maybe Dom didn't want to talk about it. "Sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. It's just been weird. Everyone's tiptoeing around me and I've gotten a lot of concerned questions from people and they're making me see Ronnie ."

"Ronnie?"

"Ron Baker. The sports psychologist for the team." Dom let out a big sigh. "And I get it. They have to be sure I wasn't actually trying to off myself. I just—shit, how many times do I have to say I'm not suicidal, I'm dumb ?"

Despite the seriousness of the subject, Shea laughed. "Yeah, well …"

"No I get it. Honestly. I'm glad they're asking because there have been guys who've gotten to bad places in their careers and ended it. It's good that they're looking out for it. But you know I fucking hate talking about shit to begin with and the whole thing makes me paranoid. What if what I say makes him think there's something wrong with me?"

"Dom, there are plenty of things wrong with you. But not in the way you're thinking."

Dom laughed. "Fuck you."

Truthfully, Dom could probably use a shitload of therapy. But Shea wasn't about to say that. Baby steps.

"Look, I get that it feels weird at first but I saw someone after my knee stuff," Shea offered. "It helps."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's an outside objective opinion and it's their job to listen to you. To help you make sense of all the shit in your head."

"You really think it works?"

"Absolutely." Shea toed at a balance ball, making it wobble. "I was depressed, you know? It was hard giving up my dream. My whole fucking life had been working toward that one goal. Get drafted. Play in the NHL. That was my sole focus. And when that was gone …"

"Fuck." Dom's tone was heartfelt.

"Pretty much. I'm just saying … you've got some similar things looming in your future," Shea said softly. "And as tempting as it is, you can't ignore it. Or it will eat at you."

"Yeah, well, with the way shit's going with my back, I'll have plenty of time to think about my future." Dom sounded gloomy now. "I'm officially on LTIR until further notice."

"Ahh fuck." Long term injury reserve sucked. "So what's the plan?"

"Testing." Dom let out a big sigh. "They've already made a shitload of appointments for me."

"You do realize most of my patients have to wait weeks if not months to get in for testing, right?" Shea pointed out. "And have to do all of the scheduling themselves."

"True. I should be grateful."

He shrugged. "Well, a little perspective never hurts."

"I appreciate you reminding me when I'm being an ungrateful asshole."

Shea laughed. "You may regret saying that in the future because now that I have your permission …"

"Ha-ha."

Smiling, Shea untangled a few resistance bands hanging from hooks. "So anyway, I won't be available this weekend. I am sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you." Shea dropped his voice, even though there wasn't anyone around to hear.

"I don't doubt that. I am sorry I'm not that much fun in the bedroom right now."

"You think you aren't fun? You think I didn't have a good time the other night?"

"Well, no. I didn't mean it like that. But …"

"Because I liked kissing you."

For a moment, there was silence. "I liked it too," Dom said gruffly.

No shit , Shea thought but he refrained from saying that aloud.

Dom was the most kiss-starved person Shea had ever met. Not that Shea was complaining … he was a fantastic kisser.

"Good. And there are a lot of other things we can do. We've had some perfectly hot times on the phone over the years while you're on the road."

"We have."

"So if you think we can't have great sex because of your back, you're missing out on plenty of other things we can do."

"Well, then you better get your ass to London and then back here to Toronto soon then," Dom said teasingly.

"I guess I better." Smiling, Shea said goodbye, then ended the call, feeling lighter than he had in the past few days.

Dom had been quiet recently and Shea had begun to wonder if he was pulling away because of the way things were shifting between them.

Then again, Shea wasn't sure how much Dom had admitted to himself that things between them had changed.

With the specter of the money Dom paid him hanging over them, it was complicated.

Dom never paid him directly.

Shea's "styling fee" was paid monthly to the company from all of Shea's clients, and the company deposited money in Shea's account.

Since Shea had stopped seeing any other clients, that money only came from Dom. And the minute it landed in Shea's account, it went directly to charities that supported sex workers.

Because Shea was the first to admit that while he'd liked working as an escort, sex work wasn't always a cushy gig.

As a man, he had a whole lot less fear of being victimized than someone like Audra. He had size and strength to his advantage and if that didn't give him a shitload of privilege, he didn't know what did.

Well, the fact that he was white didn't hurt either. But even Audra had a lot more protection than many people.

The company they worked for was high-end. They vetted potential clients, required regular blood screening for both parties, and didn't hesitate to boot out clients who crossed lines.

It wasn't so easy for the kid turning tricks under the underpass or the women who traded blowjobs for a bump of cocaine.

Shea had always been as safe as could be expected, in charge of who he had sex with, and paid well for it.

The least he could do was make sure that the people who had it a lot rougher were taken care of. And it hadn't felt right to keep taking Dom's money.

Not when Shea was in love with him.

So the money went to charities that Shea believed in and allowed him to breathe easier.

But if things were actually changing between him and Dom—and Shea didn't think it was his imagination or wishful thinking that they were—what did that mean for the future?

At what point would he need to come clean to Dom about all of it?

The dark highway stretched endlessly in front of Shea when he finally left Toronto's outskirts, heading for London, Ontario. He'd been stuck in traffic on the way out of town after work and what should have taken two hours had taken two and a half.

Thank God Dom had called shortly after Shea got on the road and they'd been talking about everything and nothing for most of the drive.

"I've had a spinal X-ray and a CT scan already. Next week I'm scheduled for an MRI, and a Myelogram," Dom groused. "What fucking more do they want from me?"

"What, they haven't taken blood too?" Shea teased.

"No, they've done a ton of blood draws too." He sighed. "I feel like a fucking pincushion. And I had wrist surgery a while back so it's not like I haven't been through this shit before but this is ridiculous."

"I get it," Shea said. "It's frustrating."

"It is."

"Remember to be grateful that you're not waiting weeks or months for results," Shea reminded him.

"I'm being fucking grateful."

"You are not!" Shea protested with a laugh.

"Well, I'm trying." There was a glimmer of humor in the midst of the grump.

Shea smiled. "That's something."

"It just sucks ." Dom let out a heavy sigh.

"It does," Shea agreed. "Though I might have you beat when it comes to the amount of diagnostic imaging that's been inflicted on a person."

"Ugh, probably."

"Are they giving you any idea of what they think the issue with your back could be?" Shea asked. He had his own theories but none of them were great.

"I mean, no one has come out and said it but I think it's pretty obvious, no?"

"Herniated disc?" Shea asked.

"Yeah."

Shea winced.

"Well," he said. "It could be something else."

"Like what?"

"Like …" Okay, he was not telling Dom that there were spinal tumors that had similar symptoms. They were exceptionally rare and it was stupid to make him worry for nothing. "Like piriformis syndrome or a pinched nerve caused by a musculoskeletal disorder."

"And those are treatable?"

Shea smiled. "Not just treatable but usually treatable with methods other than surgery. Look, we don't know anything now, Dom. And we won't until you get the results of imaging tests. Don't go catastrophizing. You'll stress yourself out."

"I know. I'm trying not to jump to the worst-case scenario. It's hard though. I can't play and literally all I can think about is the fucking pain."

Shea winced. It did tend to take over a person's life.

"Okay, you must have hobbies though," Shea said. "Focus on those."

"Umm …"

This man. He had no life outside of hockey and his team, did he? "You like golf, right?"

Shea remembered Dom saying something about golfing with Matty, Dustin, and Jordan.

"Yeah."

"Although that probably doesn't feel great on your back, does it?"

"No."

"What else do you enjoy?"

"Card games. But I am not sure taking up online sports gambling is the solution to my boredom."

Shea laughed. No, that sounded like a one-way ticket to an accidental gambling addiction. "It's good you realize that," Shea agreed. "C'mon, what else interests you? There must be something."

"I do my volunteer work at the children's hospital and read and listen to podcasts and stuff but there's only so much of that I can do, you know? My back hurts whether I'm standing, sitting, or lying so I find myself doing all three, roaming around my apartment or staring up at the ceiling and hating my life."

"Yeah, I get that. But c'mon there has to be something else you're into. Puzzles, art, music … something !"

"Ugh, you sound like Jonah. He was all worried about what Felix would do to replace the alcohol during his recovery."

Shea arched an eyebrow. Well, that was interesting. Had Dom compared him to a guy on his team who was dating their fellow teammate? But that way lay madness so Shea kept pressing. "Well, what did Felix end up going with?"

"Honestly, he tried out a bunch of stuff. Jonah got him a hobby of the month club. He built a small radio and I know at one point he started crocheting or knitting or something. I think he made some little stuffed plant thing for Jonah at one point. It was cute and all but …"

"Well, maybe knitting isn't for you but you could ask Felix what else he got in the kit and see if any of those things interest you. And what about Nico? He was out for a long time after his surgery, right?"

"Yeah, I know what he did. He started social media accounts for the cat and fish he and August have. The Adventures of Miss Muffins and Marty the Fish." Dom snorted. "Ridiculous. But we love him. For some fucking reason."

Shea laughed. "Remind me to check that out when I'm not driving."

"I will. But that's not exactly how I want to spend my time, you know?"

"Really, Dom?" Shea teased. "You aren't interested in becoming a social media influencer for cats? I never would have guessed."

Dom chuckled. "Fine, maybe that was stating the obvious. But you're right. I should talk to the guys about how to keep myself occupied."

"I do like hearing that I'm right," Shea said with relish. "It's so satisfying."

"Well, I'm glad I can satisfy you."

Shea shifted, his cock quickly responding to Dom's words and tone. "You know you satisfy me," he said in a low voice.

"Do I?" Dom sounded morose now.

"Do you doubt it?" Shea asked.

Though it didn't surprise him that Dom was in a funk right now. Chronic pain wore on a person and without any of his usual outlets, he had nothing to keep himself occupied or to look forward to.

Still, he needed to snap out of it and stop acting like whatever was going on was a death sentence to their sex life.

Sex was about so much more than the physical body—it was about the mind .

Shea'd had several clients over the years with disabilities that meant sex required some creativity. Those were clients Shea enjoyed working with because they were people who were open to all of the ways sex and sensual touch could go.

Shea wouldn't say Dom was completely closed-minded, but he was maybe narrow -minded. It wasn't entirely his fault. He'd never needed to expand the world he lived in but maybe that was something Shea could give him.

Despite the recent shift in mood between them, Shea had no real illusions about where he and Dom were headed long-term.

Shea might not want kids but that didn't mean he didn't want a partner. A deep, long-lasting, loving commitment.

He'd always assumed that person would be female but his feelings for Dom had thrown that assumption out the window. But he wasn't na?ve enough to believe that that person was going to be Dom.

Would he like it to be? With every fiber of his being. But Shea was more realistic than that. Dom had no desire to come out and well, Shea had already spent a good chunk of his twenties hiding an awful lot about himself and what he did.

He didn't want to do that for the rest of his life.

And the truth was, still having Dom as a client, having these feelings for him, they were holding Shea back from dating. From building that relationship he'd always wanted.

So at some point, painful as it was to think about, there was undoubtedly an end point to their arrangement.

Although what Shea had said to Dom the other night was true. Dom would have to be the one to end it. Shea should, probably, but he knew himself well enough to know he'd never be able to go through with it.

But when it did end, if Shea could leave Dom with a broader mind, a healthier outlook on life, and some hope for the future, that would be meaningful.

Shea would know he'd done some good in Dom's life and that the heartache after it was over would be worth it. And—

"Shea? Are you there?" Dom's voice broke through his thoughts. "I didn't hear a crash so I don't think I put you to sleep behind the wheel or anything but I'm getting a little concerned here."

"Sorry." Shea blinked. He'd been zoning out on the taillights in front of him. "No, I haven't crashed or fallen asleep. Just thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

That was a loaded question but Shea could answer some of it. "About expanding our options when it comes to sex."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I think we need to get creative and I'm going to give you some homework while I'm gone."

"Homework? What is this? Are we roleplaying some weird teacher-student scenario?"

Shea laughed. "Uhh, no. Not unless you want to."

"No."

"Didn't think so. So fine, don't call it homework then. We'll call it … something to keep you busy while I'm out of town and you're waiting for testing. I want you to come up with a position or kink or toy you want us to try that we've never done before. Don't force it. I don't want it to feel like a chore. But maybe something we've never done that you feel like your back can handle right now. Something that sounds new and fun."

"Yeah, okay." Dom sounded a little confused but also intrigued. "I could do that."

Shea grinned. "I look forward to hearing what you decide on."