CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Shea was still smiling as he walked into the clinic, the mug of coffee Dom had made him clutched in his hand.

He'd spent the drive there trying to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that living with Dom was all for the PR angle.

But the memory of Dom sliding into the shower with him this morning, kissing his shoulder and neck and murmuring how good he looked while he stroked Shea off into a toe-curling orgasm that left his knees trembling, was a whole lot louder.

As was the sight of Dom, wearing nothing but boxer briefs while he cooked Shea breakfast and made him coffee.

And the kiss … Dom had kissed him by the door, gliding his tongue along Shea's in a heated dance that made Shea want to forget that he had a job to go to.

"Barnett," someone called out and Shea stopped, his athletic shoes squeaking on the tile floor in the lobby.

He glanced over his shoulder to see his boss, Vincent Bell, standing nearby. He didn't look happy.

Since Vince never called him anything but "Shea," and was usually all smiles behind his thick moustache, the sudden change was a little concerning.

He swallowed hard and walked over to him. "Morning, Vince."

"Do you have a moment to chat?" Vince asked.

Fuck .

Shea forced a smile onto his face. "Sure, of course."

He liked to get to the clinic early and leisurely drink his coffee while he reviewed patient files and prepped for the day, so he had nearly an hour before his first patient would arrive for their appointment.

He had zero excuses for saying no.

Following Vince down the hall, Shea mentally rehearsed the story he and Dom and Kate had crafted with some help from Audra.

"So," Vince said, when they were in his office, his desk between them. He looked somber.

Shea had never had any issues at work before. Shea had worked his ass off since he was hired and Vince was generally an affable guy.

Shea had taken a risk when he'd made the suggestion about Travis Rogers' knee instability but Vince had been impressed by both Shea's knowledge and initiative rather than offended.

Truthfully, Shea had kind of been the golden boy at the clinic since then—a fact that Myles loved to give him shit for—but Shea had a sinking feeling that today he wasn't going to be getting a gold star from his boss.

"Yes?" Shea prompted when Vince fell silent.

"You're dating Dominic Olson."

Shea tightened his grip on the Fisher Cats mug that Dom had given him. "I am."

"I don't like to, uh, give these sports gossip sites insinuations any credence but …" Vince's cheeks were a little red and he tugged at his polo shirt.

"You're worried about their claim that I'm an escort," Shea filled in.

Vince cleared his throat. "Yes. You understand, right? Our clients might feel uncomfortable. They're vulnerable on our tables. They have to trust that we would never be … inappropriate with them."

Shea's stomach dropped to his toes. Was he about to get fired ? They couldn't do that, could they? They'd have to give him notice and cause, right? God, he'd thought he'd read his contract reasonably thoroughly but maybe there had been some morality clause or loophole he'd missed …

"Right," Shea said, gripping the mug even harder, both worried about his career and pissed off at the insinuation that he would ever be inappropriate with a patient just because he was a sex worker. But he was supposed to be pretending that he wasn't one, so …

Shea sighed. There was nothing he could do now but push forward with the story they'd created and hope for the best. "I understand why rumors like that might make you concerned, Vince, but Dom and I—we've been involved since before I was hired here."

Vince blinked. "You have?"

"Yes." Shea leaned forward, sensing an opening. "We met before I went to grad school, actually. He hired me as his stylist and I helped him pick out suits and revamp his wardrobe. Look, I'll be honest, when it first started out it was, uh, pretty casual, if you get my drift."

Vince nodded, managing a small smile.

"I'd never dated men before but by the time I graduated, neither Dom nor I were seeing anyone else. He's a very private person so we haven't splashed the news of our dating around but we've been edging toward this going public thing for a while now."

Which was all quite true in the strictest sense, so Shea pressed on.

"Audra is my best friend. We've been roommates for years. I felt a little under the weather the other night so Dom took Audra as his plus one to the event."

Vince frowned. "Okay. That all makes sense. But what about this Mark Goodwin situation?"

"Truthfully, Mark Goodwin is kind of a creep. Audra worked as his stylist for a short while before he started to cross the line and make her uncomfortable. He didn't back off even when she told him she wasn't interested. At the gala, he approached her again and continued to push. I know that photo looks like they're in an intimate discussion but he was actually grabbing her arm while she was trying to get away."

"Well, shit." Vince looked appalled. "I guess I shouldn't have assumed anything. It just looked …"

Shea nodded. "It's understandable. You look at the photos and read the rumors and things start to seem suspicious, right? I don't know where sites like JockGossip get all their wild theories from, but the truth is, as much as I hate Dom being forced out of the closet before he was ready to take that step on his own, I'm a little relieved. Because now we're living together and we don't have to hide our relationship."

He took a sip of his coffee, desperately hoping that Vince would buy his story.

"Well, I am happy for you," Vince said slowly. "Congratulations to you and your, uh, boyfriend. And I'm sorry I leapt to conclusions about this. I never read those sites personally but some friends were talking about it at dinner last night and I started to worry about the clinic's reputation."

"I understand that," Shea assured him. "But I don't want to jeopardize the clinic's reputation any more than you do. I want to do my work, live with my boyfriend, help him get through these issues that have him on IR, and hopefully cheer the team on as they head into the post-season."

"Well, that's all perfectly reasonable." Vince sat back, looking satisfied. "Thanks for clearing that up. I feel a lot better now."

"Sure, no problem."

"I think we'll ignore the insinuations and if anyone comes to me with concerns, I'll tell them that everything's on the up and up."

Shea smiled weakly and thanked him.

Okay, well, he didn't love the idea of his boss having to lie for him.

But the truth was, the public did have a lot of ideas around sex work that were horribly out of touch and awful.

Now he knew if there was a problem, his boss would have his back.

Of course, if proof ever came out that Shea had done sex work and lied to his boss about it …

With a frown, Shea wondered how Dom was doing this morning.

Hopefully things were going a little more smoothly at the team's practice facility.

"What did I tell you at the beginning of the season, Olson?" Gilly shouted, the words echoing on the walls of his office. "I said I want personal lives out of the gossip sites. What part of that don't you understand?"

Dom remained silent because Gilly was on a tirade and there wasn't anything he could say that was going to help.

So he sat there and took it, let the words wash over him and flow around him without sticking.

When Gilly's rant finally ended, he glared at Dom. "Are you even listening to me, Olson?"

He was expecting Dom to snap out a, "Yes, Gilly!" like always but Dom didn't fucking have it in him today.

"Respectfully, sir, but no," Dom said flatly.

Gilly blinked.

"On-ice, your coaching has been amazing this season. You've gotten every guy to buy into your system and we're all pulling together toward a common cause. We have a serious chance of taking a deep run toward the Cup this year. But you should know that off-ice, you're not doing yourself any favors."

Gilly gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Dom leaned forward. "Players respect you when they play poorly and you bench them while you give the call-ups an opportunity to get some experience at this level and get a shot at earning a permanent roster position. The established players respect that you push them to continue to work hard and earn their spot back. They like that you don't let them grow complacent. But this isn't the NHL you played in. Hell, it isn't the one I got drafted into. It's changing and it's changing fast ."

Gilly remained silent, listening, so Dom continued.

"You can be tough on us from the bench without all of the fucking theatrics in the locker room. No one else is going to say it because they have too much to lose if they piss you off. But I have nothing to lose anymore," he admitted. "I'm in the final months of my contract and I know damn well no one here is offering me another one. You can threaten to bench me all you want, but I'm already on LTIR and my back's fucked, so I may not even be able to get on the ice again before my contract ends."

There was no way he could play through the rest of the regular season and a playoff run like this. If it was a herniated disc, it would be too long of a recovery time to return, even if they made it all the way to the final round.

And Dom loathed the idea of ending his career riding the bench.

This realization was a bitter pill to swallow but he could only ignore it for so long.

"So I'm going to be frank," Dom said. "You're losing the room with these off-ice theatrics. I'm not saying you need to be soft on us, but maybe try listening to guys before you scream at them. Maybe ask yourself what they're going through in their personal lives that makes them end up on the gossip sites."

He cleared his throat, a little surprised by how emotional he was getting about this. How much he meant it.

"Because I didn't ask for this shit. I got involved with a guy and I was doing my damndest to keep it out of the press. I didn't want a big coming out. Hell, I didn't even want a small one. And I sure as shit don't want them trying to stir up all that talk about me paying him. But I don't get a choice about what they speculate about and I barely get to choose how to respond to it for fear of making the situation worse.

"Someone here in the organization is leaking team info and if I ever find out who it is, I will hunt them down and make them regret it." He tapped his finger on Gilly's desk to emphasize his point. "But how in the hell do you think we're supposed to control what they write about us? At this point, we can't fucking sneeze without them speculating about it. It's bullshit, Gilly. And if I'm at my breaking point with it, you know a lot of other guys are going to be too."

He clasped his hands, looking his coach in the eye. "So, you can do whatever you want to punish me. But we all fucking hate JockGossip . So why aren't you on our side?"

"Huh," Gilly said, slumping back in his chair, expression turning thoughtful. "I didn't expect you to be the one to call me out on it."

Dom lifted an eyebrow. That really wasn't the response he'd expected.

"I knew someone was going to eventually but I didn't think it'd be you."

"Wait," Dom said, rubbing his face, trying to understand. "Was this a test ?"

Gilly shrugged. "In a way. I wanted to know what the team's breaking point was. I wanted to know how far I could push and which of you was strong enough to stand up to me. Now I know."

Dom suddenly felt very tired. But at least it didn't sound like he was going to get in any more trouble.

Then again, he'd meant what he said earlier. What were they going to do to him at this point?

Mid-morning, during a break between appointments, Shea poured himself a cup of coffee in the empty break room and checked his phone for messages.

He had quite a few already.

He laughed at the one Travis had sent him. Congrats to you and Olson. I had a feeling there was somethin' going on there. The dude was shooting daggers at me during the game. Your man is the jealous type, huh?

Shea laughed and typed out a response. Thanks. I guess so.

We should all go out for a drink to celebrate some time.

Sounds fun! Let me know when you're free.

Talk to me after the playoffs.

Shea laughed.

Your sport is fucking weak, man, Shea fired back. Try being a hockey player.

He got an expletive-laden response back and they exchanged a few more trash-talking messages as Shea sipped his coffee, grinning.

A message from Ethan popped up too . Hey! Congrats! I am happy for you and Olson. Didn't see that one coming at all.

Are you being serious or sarcastic? Shea asked.

Serious! I thought you were both straight.

I thought I was too. Surprise!

Haha. Well, good for you! We'll have to have you guys over for dinner sometime.

Shea felt a little twinge at the thought. He loved the idea of having dinner with Ethan and his family but he hated the fact that he was lying to his friends about him and Dom being together.

They were excited for him. Happy he'd met someone and had moved in with him and … it was all for the PR.

Did Shea hope that in the course of pretending, maybe Dom would realize how great they could be together and actually want a real relationship?

Of course. But he wasn't holding his breath.

He sent a vague reply to Ethan, finished the rest of his coffee, then rinsed the cup and set it in the drainer.

As Shea left the break room, he passed Myles in the hallway.

"You fucker!" Myles thwacked Shea in the chest as they passed. "I can't believe you were dating Olson this whole time."

Shea gave him a small grin. "Well, he wanted to keep things quiet," he protested.

"Yeah but … holy shit. How long has this been going on?"

Shea ran through the whole spiel he'd told Vince earlier, but modified a little.

When he was done, Myles nodded. "Well, that's awesome. I'm happy for you, man."

"Thanks."

Myles grinned. "Damn, I didn't even know you were into dudes."

"You know, it took me by surprise too."

"Surprise! Welcome to the team!"

Dom groaned when he walked through the locker room and was greeted by the enthusiastic shouts of his teammates and an explosion of color around his stall. Goddamn it.

"I've been on your team for years," he groused.

"Yeah, but now you're officially on the queer team!" Matty said cheerfully. "Ryan Hartinger and I got into an argument this morning on the Out in the NHL group chat about it but I'm totally right that the Otters have to hand over the title for Queerest Team in the NHL to the Fisher Cats."

Dom didn't want to know what the fuck that entailed so he ignored Matty and batted away some rainbow-hued balloons as he walked toward his stall.

"So how are you figuring the numbers, Matty?" Nico asked.

Of course the two of them were in cahoots.

Matty cracked his knuckles. "Okay, so the guy has to be active on the NHL roster and have publicly acknowledged their queerness. So right now, Evanston has Shane Hurst, Jamie Walsh, Gabriel Theriault, Kelly O'Shea, and Trevor Underhill."

"Right, so that's five," Nico said.

"Ooh, he can count to five!" Colton chirped. "Pretty impressive for a hockey player."

Dom let out a quiet snort.

Matty continued. "So now we've got Dustin, Jonah, Felix, you"—he pointed at Nico—"me and Dom. Which is six. If I did my math right."

"You mathed right," Nico agreed. "So yeah, we obviously have them beat. I don't get his argument that everyone in the organization counts."

"Right?" Matty said, holding out his hands, palms up. "Thank you. Like, that's cheating to include Zane Murphy, Lance Tate, and Noel Sutton in the count."

"Who the fuck is Noel Sutton?" Dom asked, confused.

"Stats guy, he's dating Shane Hurst."

"Right." Dom shook his head. "How do you even know this?"

"Dude, the text chat! Which you would know if you'd accept the invite to join that I sent you yesterday," Matty shot back. "It's fun! It's like the most sarcastic support group ever."

No, that sounded like a little slice of hell to him. Even if he had noticed the invite in the sea of messages he'd gotten lately, he would have ignored it. Who fucking cared who was queer and out?

Except, apparently, literally everyone but him.

"Do we have anyone else in the Fisher Cats organization?" Jordan asked thoughtfully. "Like, head office and shit?"

"Well, several," Dustin said. "If you're including support and office staff. Darla, one of the scouts, is married to a woman too."

"You've also got me."

Everyone turned to face their backup goalie.

"What?" Jesse said when they all gaped at him. "Didn't you know?"

"Uhh, no," Matty sputtered.

"Since when?" Colton narrowed his eyes. "I was forced to watch you make out with two women the last time we were in a bar on the road."

"Since when does liking to make out with women make me ineligible to be queer?" Jesse said, crossing his arms. In no shirt with his goal pads on, he looked ridiculous.

"Thank you!" Nico said. "There will be no bi/pan erasure in this locker room!"

"Okay, fair," Colton said, holding up his hands. "And I didn't mean it that way. Birdie is bi and she'd murder me if I did anything to invalidate that because we're together. I just didn't know you were so inclined, Webby."

He shrugged. "No one ever asked."

Dustin frowned. "As much as it might not seem like it"—he shot a pointed glare at Matty and Nico—"we do try respect people's right to privacy around here."

Jesse still looked confused. "Sure, but do I have to make a big announcement about it? Like, I figured if it came up or I met someone serious, I'd talk about it then."

"Thank you!" Dom said with a sigh of relief. "That is so much more normal than whatever the fuck the rest of you get up to."

"Since when has this team ever been normal?" Jonah asked, sounding flabbergasted by the idea.

Everyone chuckled.

"You have a point," Dustin admitted. "And I respect that, Jesse. I do. I was just surprised."

"Probably because he's being low-key. Something the rest of this damn team is incapable of doing," Dom muttered, ripping off the brightly colored crepe paper taped all over his stall. "God. You're all the worst . You know I hate shit like this."

Dustin held up his hands. "Dude, I had nothing to do with it. I told Matty and Nico that you'd hate it."

"What?" Nico said, all wide-eyed faux innocence. "We were actually being so well-behaved. We were going to decorate your car but Dustin said not to do it in public. That's why we kept it to the locker room."

He looked pleased with himself. Like he'd done such a good job.

Dom rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and this is way less than we originally planned," Matty said. "I promise."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Dom snarked.

But the truth was—even if he'd never admit it aloud—there was something nice about being included this way. About knowing that these guys would support him no matter what.

He definitely wasn't giving them the satisfaction of telling them that though.

"Look, I'm just here to meet with Eddie and do my workout. But are you guys getting ready for practice or not?" Dom asked. "I have a feeling Gilly isn't going to be super patient today. I kinda pissed him off in our meeting earlier."

"Oh fuck no." Colton blanched, scrambling for his gear. "I am not going to be the last one out there if he's on a tear."

There was a flurry of activity as everyone else hurried to their stalls to get ready.

Finally able to dress in peace, Dom pulled on his workout clothes. He finished tying his hair back to keep it out of his eyes and Nico stepped closer, clearly not worried about being yelled at.

"Gotta say, you have good taste. He's hot ." He flashed his phone screen at Dom.

It was Shea's Instagram account and showed a picture of him on a beach, shirtless and tanned.

"Thanks?" Dom managed. Though Nico wasn't wrong. Shea was incredibly hot.

Nico grinned. "I don't know what the hell he sees in you but—"

"Fuck off," Dom said gruffly, giving Nico a face wash before he walked toward the door.

"Are you sure you're not paying him?" Nico called out and Dom shot him the finger over his shoulder without turning to see the response.

Shea had just started eating lunch when his phone buzzed with a message from Dom.

How's your day going?

Shea smiled and tapped out a message in response. A little weird but not too bad so far. Yours?

Ugh. Don't ask.

That bad, huh?

Mostly weird. I'll tell you about it tonight at home.

At home. Shea swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.

But before he could come up with an answer, his phone rang. He blinked when he saw who it was.

"Uh, hey," he answered tentatively.

"I thought I told you to hold out for three Cups," his dad said. "I'm very disappointed in you, son."

And Shea laughed, relieved.

Because, yeah, his dad probably had a lot of questions right now and that didn't even include assuring him that the escort rumor wasn't true—God, Shea did not want to get into that whole thing—and his mom was probably going to want to talk to him too.

He was honestly surprised that Emma hadn't bombarded him with messages already.

But he and his dad had an inside joke about Shea dating a guy and they could laugh about shit again and fuck, that was everything .

"Well, I mean, he asked me to move in with him and I didn't have the heart to kick a guy while he was down on LTIR," Shea said. "I guess we'll just have to get him that Cup before I bring him home to meet you guys."

His dad laughed and Shea thought that maybe, whatever happened with Dom, at least he'd have this now.

He'd have his family back.