CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

"How are you holding up?"

Shea set another picture frame in the box, then glanced over to see Audra leaning in the doorway of his bedroom, wearing a concerned expression.

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess. It's all very surreal."

"It makes sense, you know."

"For Dom and me to move in together and pretend like we've been in love for years?"

Audra nodded.

"I suppose," he said dubiously.

"Look, the post I put up on social media is already gaining traction. And you sharing it helped too."

"I know." He rubbed his face. "And you did a great job with it. The whole ‘oh, I was just filling in as a date for my roommate at the gala since he was under the weather that night' angle was good."

"Kate is very good at what she does," Audra said drily.

Shea managed a faint smile. "So I gather."

"And I think a lot of people will be willing to accept that angle."

"Sure." Shea sighed. "If they're not already convinced about the escort thing."

"Well, that's why you and Dom are going to work the happy couple angle."

"And you don't think it looks suspicious that I'm moving in with him immediately ?"

"I think that people will see what they want to see and if you spin it so it seems like it's something you've been wanting to do for a long time but—"

"That's just it," he said, his tone raw. "I have wanted this. I've wanted this for years. But I want it to be real, Audra. I don't know how I'm going to live with him and pretend that we're in love. Because I am in love with him and when this PR shit dies down it's going to kill me to walk away from him."

He sat heavily on the mattress, his legs no longer holding him up.

Audra sat next to him. "Hey, I get that. But I think I was wrong."

"About what?"

"About Dom."

Shea glanced up, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"That man made a huge statement today. He publicly outed himself to protect you. You expect me to believe that's not love?"

Shea hesitated, torn. "I mean, maybe? He has a lot to lose too. And so does the Fisher Cats organization. They're not exactly going to sit idly by while people speculate about one of their players paying an escort for sex."

"I'm not disputing that. But what I saw from him earlier, he wasn't thinking about himself or the organization. He was thinking about you ."

A couple hours later, as Shea followed Dom into his apartment for the second time that day, he was hit with a sudden feeling of déjà vu.

Only this time, it wasn't for a PR meeting. He was moving in.

It wasn't like Shea needed any furniture or kitchen utensils, so it hadn't taken him long to pack his clothing and a few bags and boxes of personal belongings and mementos, along with his hockey gear.

He'd unloaded in front of the building, where Dom had met him with a cart and a building employee who was more than happy to help. They'd already gotten into a minor argument about Dom not lifting heavy boxes.

Shea watched the man move his belongings into Dom's apartment, barely believing this was happening.

When the guy was gone, and Dom tipped him—because he got there before Shea could do it—they stared at each other.

Shea had no idea what to do from here. He'd never lived with a partner before. And well, this wasn't exactly a normal situation anyway.

"I made room for you in the closet," Dom said.

For a wild moment, Shea had the weirdest thought that he was talking about the metaphorical one, and then it clicked that he meant the literal one in the bedroom.

"Uh, thanks. Which room?"

Dom froze, frowning. "The primary bedroom? Why? Oh, did you … I mean, I guess you could stay in one of the other rooms, if you want. But I do have a cleaning service and …"

"Uh, no, that's fine."

They hadn't talked about what it would be like for them to live together. They'd discussed what they'd show the public, but not how that would impact their day-to-day lives together.

But sharing a bedroom made sense. Why risk someone leaking information?

Shea hadn't expected everything to be quite so awkward though.

"I'll, uh, take my stuff in there and get settled in then," he said.

The walk-in closet was roomy and had clearly been designed for two people. So even though Dom was a total clothes horse—though Shea was the one to blame for that—and Shea had quite a few clothes too, there was plenty of space for him.

He still felt strange as he unwrapped the plastic garbage bags from the bundle of clothes on hangers then slid them into the closet beside Dom's wardrobe. It wasn't the neatest packing job ever, but he'd only been going across the city and it had done the trick.

When Shea was done, he stared at the row of Dom's suits and jackets, reaching out to touch the sleeve of one. The space smelled faintly of Dom's cologne and leather and Shea suddenly wished that this wasn't so transactional.

He'd never expected moving in with a partner to feel so … anticlimactic.

Of course, it was all a farce. Or was it?

Audra seemed so sure now that Dom was in love with him and didn't know how to say it. She was sure this was his grand gesture.

And coming from the most skeptical—and, frankly, sometimes downright cynical—person Shea had ever met, that was saying something. Audra wasn't the type to get swept up in the romance of things. Shea was far more prone to it than she was.

So a part of him was tempted to believe it.

But the other part, the part that was afraid to get his heart broken, couldn't quite trust it.

"I'm sorry," Dom said when Shea stepped into the bedroom.

He raised an eyebrow and walked over to the bed, where Dom had put a few of the boxes marked ‘personal'.

"You weren't supposed to be lifting these," Shea pointed out.

Everything hurt no matter what he fucking did. The least he could do was help Shea move in. "I'm fine."

Shea flipped the box flaps open, then took out some photos, setting them on the dresser. "Are you apologizing for moving the boxes?"

"No. For the situation. You seem unhappy."

Shea froze. "You don't have anything to apologize for and I'm not unhappy. Just … trying to process it all, I guess."

"Okay." Dom wanted to reach out, tug Shea close and pull him in for a kiss.

But he didn't know what this arrangement meant for the physical side of things between them.

"Have you done your social media post yet?" Dom asked.

Shea shook his head. "No, but I can do that now."

Since Dom never posted anything personal on his social media, Kate had suggested Shea post it and Dom could share it. It was mildly out of character, but less so than any other approach that they could think of.

Shea stepped back and held up his phone, angling it a few different ways before he nodded to himself. After fiddling with the device for a few moments, he held it out so Dom could see the screen.

It was a shot of the bedroom that showed the bed with packing boxes, Dom's neat but clearly often-used nightstand, and one that was empty of anything but a lamp and a stack of Shea's books. Dom stood in the corner, facing away, just enough of his body and hair visible to be recognizable.

He scrolled to see the caption Shea had typed out. Dom and I are finally moving in together! He's a very private person so we've been trying to stay out of the public eye. Since it looks like the cat's out of the bag now, we figured we might as well take advantage. So excited to finally be able to tell the world how much he means to me!

There were little heart and pride flag emojis beside it and Dom felt a pang of guilt. Not for Shea but for Christian.

Fuck.

This was what he'd denied him all those years ago.

Yeah, Dom had been desperate for his privacy but he'd never considered Christian's feelings about it. How much he'd probably wanted to share his feelings. Just because Dom wasn't the type who felt the need to gush to the world about the person he was with didn't mean other people didn't.

Hell, most people seemed to want that.

And Dom had been the asshole who'd demanded Christian keep him a secret from not just the public, but his friends and family.

Dom felt a little dizzy with the sudden realization of how fucked up that had been. How unhealthy and wrong .

There was privacy and then there was whatever that shit was.

"Dom?" Shea said softly.

He blinked and looked up.

"Is that okay? I can take another shot or reword it or, hell, you can totally rewrite it if you want."

"No," Dom said gruffly, handing the phone back. "That's good. That's what you should post."

"Okay," Shea said softly, his brows drawn together. "If you're sure."

Dom looked into his eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm sure."

After it was done, Dom helped Shea continue unpacking and settling in.

He seemed hesitant to put framed photos of him and his family in the living area or take up space in the bathroom, but Dom encouraged it.

"Do you still play?" he asked, surprised when they got to the living room where Shea's hockey bag and sticks waited.

Shea gave him a little shrug. "Sometimes. I don't play beer league or anything but occasionally I'll meet up with buddies and play a little shinny."

Dom smiled.

God, he loved informal pond games. Playing in the NHL was thrilling beyond belief. The two times he'd lifted a Cup over his head were the single greatest moments of his life.

But the quiet joy of skating on a pond with friends, feeling the warm sun and cool breeze on his face, hearing the laughter and chirping, that was pure love.

"I think there's room for you to store your gear in the laundry area with mine," Dom offered. "Let me show you."

Most of Dom's equipment stayed with the team, of course, but he had two pairs of skates and a couple of sticks and some pads that were his personal belongings.

He made space for Shea's, and when their sticks were lined up together, Dom gestured at it. "Maybe you should have taken a photo of that."

"Yeah. Maybe," Shea said with a wistful little smile.

But Dom didn't think it had anything to do with social media or the situation they were in.

"We could have been teammates, maybe," he said, pressing his shoulder against Shea's. "If things had gone differently for you."

Shea let out a shuddering sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe we could have."

And Dom didn't know what to say to that, so he turned and wrapped a hand around Shea's arm for a moment, squeezed it, then walked into the living room to tackle the rest of the boxes.

Although the unpacking wasn't particularly difficult or complicated, it was a little awkward.

Dom had never done this before. Never lived with a partner.

Oh, he'd spent most nights he wasn't on the road at Christian's place, but he hadn't moved in. Not in any official way.

He'd kept his own apartment, going there often enough to make it believable. He'd invited his teammates to his place to keep up the fa?ade.

And God, that sounded too fucking exhausting to even contemplate now.

Not that he was delighted by the social media duties and how carefully they would have to present themselves, but there was a certain freedom in knowing that he had little left to hide now.

It had always felt like there was something hanging over his head, a box full of live scorpions waiting to rain down on him if someone whacked it just right and opened up everything he'd so carefully tucked inside.

But what could anyone say that hadn't already been said?

So … the world knew he liked men. So what?

It would be a giant fucking pain in the ass when it came to dealing with the press and the public but the sky hadn't fallen.

They'd already accused him of hiring an escort and he damn well knew how messy that could get if they managed to find any proof.

But that was it. There was nothing else that they could discover about him, really.

He had some speeding tickets and he'd been a shitty boyfriend to Christian and his family was a fucked-up mess but that was it.

There were no more secrets.

And well, he had to admit there were worse things than glancing over to see a gorgeous man standing in his kitchen, sliding his favorite brands of protein powder and supplements into the cupboard next to Dom's.

Dom stepped forward, lightly pressing his body against Shea's.

"What do you want to do for dinner? I don't know about you but I am totally drained. I was thinking we could get takeout from one of my favorite restaurants rather than cooking. They do stuff that fits in my meal plan and it's delicious."

The tension in Shea's body seemed to seep away. "Yeah. That sounds great."

Dom pressed his lips to the hinge of Shea's jaw. "I'll send you a link to their menu and then once you let me know what you want, I can call it in."

Dinner was good but the conversation was stilted as they ate at the dining room table and it didn't feel normal until after dinner when they sat on the sofa and Dom reached for the remote. "Hockey?" he asked.

Shea smiled, his tense shoulders softening. "Yeah, hockey sounds good."

And later that night, after the game was over and they were getting ready for bed, Dom took a seat on the floor to stretch and admitted that he liked the quiet sounds of Shea moving around in the bathroom.

When Shea walked into the bedroom, he paused, staring down at Dom where he lay on the rug. "Hey. You okay? I thought the ice while we watched the game would help."

"That did help," he admitted. "I just missed my appointment with Eddie this morning, so I'm a little stiff."

Shea gave him an annoyed look. "Well, why didn't you tell me? I can do the manual manipulation if you need it. Just tell me what they normally do."

Dom ran through what the trainers typically did and Shea nodded. "Yeah, I can do that if you're comfortable with it."

Dom rolled his eyes. "I trust you. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

Shea shrugged, kneeling on the floor beside Dom's hip, wearing low-slung pajama pants and no shirt. Fuck he was gorgeous. "Ready?"

"Ready," Dom said.

"Tell me if anything crosses from discomfort to pain. You know the difference."

Dom did so he nodded and let Shea do his thing. Shea worked a little slower than the team's trainers, probably because he didn't have a line of guys waiting to go next and also probably because he'd never done this to Dom before.

But his hands were sure and steady as he carefully manipulated Dom's limbs and Dom felt better by the time he was done. Looser.

"Can I try one more thing?" Shea asked. "I have an idea of one thing that might work that it doesn't sound like they're having you do."

"Sure. I'll try anything."

"You're having numbness here, right?" Shea touched his outer thigh. "Along the tensor fascia lata where it connects to your IT band?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's likely your lateral femoral cutaneous nerve has been impinged."

"Okay," Dom said slowly.

"So I'm not saying you don't have a herniated disc, but if that's causing some misalignment in your body and changing the way you're walking and holding yourself to compensate, it'll cause the area around your iliopsoas and inguinal ligament to get inflamed and irritated." He touched a spot just inside and slightly below Dom's hipbone, along his groin crease.

Dom tried to ignore the lift of his cock in response.

Shea was being professional right now.

In the brightly lit training room, with half a dozen of his teammates around and a brisk and efficient trainer touching him, Dom never got hard. It was so far from sex that his body didn't find it arousing at all.

But it was a whole different story in Dom's bedroom—in their bedroom, Dom corrected himself—with the low lights and Shea touching him and being sexy in his competence…

Of course, there was no hiding it, since Dom wore thin pajama pants that hid nothing.

Shea smirked. "You're really into this, huh? And you scoffed at the idea of role playing. Seems like the PT and patient angle is doing it for you."

Dom snorted, knocking his bent knee into Shea's ribs. "Shut up. I—it's not the situation. It's you touching me."

"Yeah?" Shea smiled more softly, his gaze warm. "Good. Now roll onto your stomach."

Dom lifted an eyebrow, but he did as requested. "You going to fuck me?"

"No." Shea lightly slapped his ass. "I'm going to show you a couple of exercises. This first one is a nerve tensioner. Now, this would be better on a training table, but we can make this work. I want you to lift up onto your elbows until your chest leaves the floor. Don't go into too deep of a backbend though—we don't want too much compression in your lower back."

Dom did that and Shea corrected his posture a little. "Good. Now look down as you flex your left knee. You want to bend your left leg while you lower your head. Try that a couple of times, slowly, and tell me how it feels."

Dom did. "This is fine. No pain," he said when he was done.

"Good. Then do ten of those."

When Dom was done, Shea patted his thigh. "Okay, now we're gonna do something very similar but it's a nerve floss. This time, I want you to bend your head back— carefully , don't crunch your neck—while you flex your knee."

Dom did it, then did a round of both on the right side, and another round on the left. "How do you feel?" Shea asked when he was done.

"Fine?" Dom rolled onto his back. "It didn't feel like much of anything though."

"That's good. It's not a ‘push harder to achieve better results' kind of treatment. Just something that you can add to your exercises. As long as you're not having pain, it should be absolutely fine to do once or twice a day until you get your results back. You're welcome to check with the trainers to make sure they approve though, if you'd feel more comfortable."

"I'll mention it to them, but I mean it, I trust you," Dom said, reaching out. He grasped Shea's forearm and squeezed.

"Hey. When do you get the results from your testing?" Shea asked with a little frown.

"Should be sometime this week."

"Want me to come with you?"

Dom's immediate response was to say no but he hesitated. "Uhh, maybe?"

"No pressure," Shea said hastily. "I just know appointments like that can be kinda overwhelming and it's hard to know what questions to ask. I know you know how to handle it and you've got tons of people there for you but I thought if you wanted it—"

"No," Dom said. "I mean, yes. I'd like you there. If you want to come and you can make it."

"It depends on my work schedule but if you can give me a little bit of notice, I could probably find someone to cover for me for an hour or two."

"Yeah, that would be good." Dom realized that he hadn't let go of Shea, in fact, he'd let his hand slide down to grasp Shea's. He squeezed. "Now, we should probably go to bed. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow."

Not only was he going to get chewed out by Gilly, he had a meeting with his agent scheduled, and he knew there would be meetings with various people in the organization, plus, of course, the portion of the team that hadn't already known he was gay would give him hell.

Christ.

Still, as Dom slid into bed and rolled onto his side, feeling Shea's warm, solid body curve around him, he had to admit, this part wasn't bad at all.

"Thank you," he whispered in the dark room, threading his fingers through Shea's, liking the weight of his muscular arm across his ribs.

"For what?" Shea's lips grazed his bare shoulder.

Dom shivered. "For everything you did to protect me today."

But Shea didn't respond how he expected, just sighed a little and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "G'night, Dom."

"Night," he whispered.