Nineteen

NINETEEN

REN

I'm pleasantly surprised when Felton didn't fall into a dark mood when we lost against Carolina two days ago. Our team definitely had an off night and couldn't get the puck anywhere near the other goal for most of the first two periods. Honestly, we're fortunate we made it onto the board at all.

Felton was back in goal tonight against Seattle and when the buzzer sounded at the end of the third period and he'd managed a shutout, the grin on his face said it all. He needed this. Not just to boost his confidence, but to prove to all the nasty voices in his head that he's not what they say he is.

He's a good fucking player. He wouldn't be here if he wasn't. I follow him and the rest of our team into the visitor locker room. Wins are always exciting, but there's something about beating a team on their home turf that really gets your blood pumping.

The locker room is extra rowdy when the team files in, and the excitement makes me smile. Coach Shively steps into the locker room and stripping slows as we listen to him. He's probably one of my favorite coaches I've had to date. He's a good guy, always remembering that his team is made up of people, not numbers on a jersey with a job to do.

He's also stern when it comes to the job. There's no room for slacking or half-hearted attempts at playing. I've seen men sit on the bench for a week because they were too lazy to put in effort during practice.

While I listen, I keep Felton in the corner of my eye. I'm not sure if he still needs it, but I asked that we share a room while we're on this two-day away game streak. I'm not na?ve enough to think that a few good days means he's completely better. I've seen how easy it is for the switch inside him to flip and he begins a freefall into his internal dark pit of self-deprecation.

I'd really love to meet his parents one day. The little bit that Felton told me and the call that I overheard with his father on the phone tells me a lot about the environment he grew up in. Then there was the state he was in when he returned from Thanksgiving.

How do you treat someone like that? Your own child!

Honestly, I'd like to throat punch his father. He either has no idea or doesn't care about the mental state he's put his son in.

Felton doesn't deserve that. Despite all the nastiness he's apparently been surrounded with, he's a great guy. The kind of guy that congratulates a rookie on his first pro goal, even when it was against him.

We pile into the bus, and I take a seat with Denny. Felton smiles at me when he meets my eyes on the way by, before he drops into a seat with Dasan.

"He looks happier," Denny says quietly.

I nod and glance back at Felton. He's laughing at something Willits said, shoving Willits away.

Turning to face the front again, I nod. "You?" I ask.

His gaze shifts to Zenia in the seat beside us with Nason Jordan. He's talking to Jordan, but as if he knows Denny's eyes are on him, he glances our way and smiles.

" I'm fine."

"Is that a hint that he's not?"

It's loud enough on the bus with the adrenaline of our win still flowing that I'm not entirely concerned with being overheard.

"I think that he's trying to be, but maybe he is still struggling a bit," Denny says.

"But you're not," I confirm.

He smirks. "A good fuck is a good fuck. I'm realizing I don't really care who's beneath me or which hole I'm sticking it in."

"You've been listening to Kroy," I say, chuckling.

Denny laughs under his breath. "That fucker is totally right and if I take away all the outside influences of what's expected of me and assumed of me, and really think about what I like and want… I'm not sure after this recent… endeavor, that I truly care about the gender of the person I'm fucking."

His voice is low as he speaks, and I find myself smiling.

"Of course, I think I need more than the two times to know for sure," he tries to say seriously while hiding his smirk. "It requires more research to be sure. It could very well only be during group activities that I don't care. Maybe it'll be vastly different one on one. And I'm not entirely sure where to start with that, so right now, it's just a hypothesis."

I nod, glancing at Zenia again. He's absorbed in the conversation with Nason, not paying any attention to us. Which is fine. Good.

"Kroy seemed indifferent," I comment. We haven't had much of an opportunity to hang out or speak much since our latest gang bang—which I supervised more than participated in. It's just that time of year. We always get a little distance between Thanksgiving and New Year's. Holidays and family shit. "What about Carson? Have you spoken to him?"

Denny shrugs, shaking his head. "No. But he sounded… surprised and amused more than anything. And concerned for him." He gestures with a nod of his head backward, indicating Felton.

"There's a chance that we react to each other more than whoever we're with," I muse as the bus doors shut and we get ready to head back to the hotel. "We're good friends and hang out a lot. We're emotionally bonded and shit," I muse, making Denny look at me with a bemused smile. "There's a chance that we respond to each other more than who we're with."

He glances around the bus for a minute before leaning in. "You're saying we turn each other on?" he asks in a near whisper.

I laugh. "No. Well… yeah, I guess. Empathy is when one person absorbs another person's emotions. You familiar with the concept?" Denny gives me a weird look, but nods. "When you're close with someone, you tend to share their emotions. You're happy when they're happy. You feel their sadness when they're upset. When someone hurts them, you get angry on their behalf. Following?"

Denny sighs. "Yes. I see where you're going with this."

"I'm not sure it's going to make Zen feel better about the situation, but I think it explains a lot about how we operate with the same… target. We have very different tastes. I can tell you that more than half the girls we bring back would never do it for me. But the fact they do it for one or two of you changes how I feel about the situation."

"Huh," he says and stares absently at Zenia for a minute. "I think that would help ease his mind, actually."

"Does it change how you feel about the situation, or are you still considering further research?"

Denny grins. "Still considering research. I don't think you're wrong, though. For the record. But I've thought a lot about what Kroy said, and it's made me reevaluate a lot of things about myself. This is my conclusion, though maybe I'll have to take into consideration this conversation as well."

"Should we check in on Carson?" I ask. "Zen is close, so it's easy enough to keep an eye on him. But unless we pointedly get together, I rarely hear from Carson or Kroy this time of year."

He tilts his head. "Maybe. He and Kroy work near each other, don't they? Maybe we can see if Kroy will check in on him. Make it less obvious."

I nod thoughtfully, but don't take out my phone while I stare out the window. My brain focuses on Felton's voice in the back of the bus, tuning almost everyone else's out. It's deep, strong, masculine.

Sexy? Is it sexy?

Fuck's sake, why am I even thinking that word right now? Since when have I associated that with Felton?

It takes a lot of effort not to turn back to steal a glance. Just to see if he's okay, I tell myself. But I force myself not to. He's a grown ass man. He doesn't need me to look after him all the time.

But I want to. And he seems to enjoy when I do.

Pressing my lips together, I appease myself with the knowledge we're sharing a room tonight and tomorrow night. I have plenty of opportunities to check him out then!

No! No. Not check him out. Check in with him.

My head is still swimming as I try to realign my thoughts by the time we pull into the hotel. I'm not sure when I became so scattered, but it's such a project to retrain my thinking!

"See you downstairs?" Denny asks.

I nod as we head for the elevator. Tomorrow we're headed north to play Vancouver, so while we're going to celebrate a little tonight, we're also going to get some sleep. But I'm hungry. Games mean a lot of energy is expended in a rather short amount of time, though it's not exactly healthy to replenish before bed. Still, I think I need some protein.

Felton joins us in the elevator, along with a few more of our teammates. He flashes me a grin and then offers the same to Denny. Denny chuckles and pats him on the shoulder when we reach his floor. "Good game tonight, Fel," he says and my big man beams.

No, wait. He's not mine.

I seriously need to get my shit together here.

Felton is quiet in the elevator and when he follows me to the room. I let us in and step back so he can enter. He gives me what I feel is a shy smile as he walks by me, but that seems silly. Following him in, I let the door shut.

Slipping out of my shoes, I walk further into the room to find Felton standing by his bed. He watches me, almost expectantly. My mind immediately pictures him bending over the edge and giving me his pretty hole.

Fucking hell. I haven't even seen his hole! Just the round globes of his pretty ass.

Taking a breath, I ask, "You hungry?"

He nods.

"Want to get in some comfortable clothes and we'll head down for something to eat?" Felton chews the inside of his lip as he looks at me. I'm not sure what he's waiting for until I say, "Change, Felton."

Sighing, he does as I tell him to. I watch him for just a second. Not to observe him as he undresses, but acknowledging that he truly doesn't like decisions. Any decision. If pressed, he'll make one, but I think he does so in a panic. A flustered mind isn't going to make a smart decision. Even when it's as simple as deciding to change clothes.

Even knowing this, I'm not sure what to do about it.

I absently change while I contemplate this. Is there anything I can do to make him more comfortable making decisions for himself? It's not like there's someone else in his life who can do it for him. I can't just assign someone to him. Hell, even I wouldn't trust that person to make all of Felton's choices altruistically.

Everyone wants something.

A knock at the door makes me turn toward it as I pull my shirt over my head. A peek through the hole tells me it's Denny and Zenia. Didn't I say I'd meet them downstairs? How long has it been?

Glancing back to make sure Felton's at least got pants on, I open the door and let them in.

"You're feeling impatient," I tease as I step back into the room for socks.

"Yes," Denny agrees as he drops into the chair.

Felton gives them both smiles as he sits to put his shoes back on.

It's when he turns away that I realize Zenia looks really uncomfortable. His cheeks are flushed and he's avoiding looking at Felton, who doesn't seem to notice at all. I meet Denny's eyes and he raises his brows. See?!

It doesn't take us long to finish getting dressed and head downstairs. Felton's quiet, but he looks happy enough. There's a residual small smile on his lips as he looks around. When he spots Dasan and Willits, he looks at me as if waiting for my okay.

I nod and he grins before making a beeline for the two of them.

"Did he just ask your permission?" Zenia asks.

"I think so," I say, frowning after him. I'm trying to frown, but I can't fight the smile that's determined to come out.

"What did I miss?" Zenia asks.

Honestly, I couldn't tell him even if I wanted to. I'm not sure what's happening right now. Between the weird possessiveness in my head concerning this guy and Felton's willingness to take my directions…? I just don't know.

Meeting Zenia's eyes, I shrug. "No idea."

It's clear that he doesn't believe me, but he doesn't comment again until we're led through the bar and to a booth in the attached restaurant. I sit where I can see Felton.

"We don't expect you to break his confidence," Denny tells me as soon as the hostess leaves. The way Zenia frowns at him and then shakes his head makes me believe that was more for Zen than it was for my benefit.

"Let's talk about you," I redirect, glancing at Zenia so he knows I'm referring to him before looking at my menu. "What's up, bro?"

He rolls his eyes. "Nothing. Why?"

Denny huffs quietly.

"You okay since our groupie?" I ask.

His gaze flickers to Felton, as if he's close enough to hear it. "Is it really a groupie if you weren't involved?" he hisses.

"Yes," Denny and I say together.

"I'm fine," Zenia huffs in exasperation. "It's just a little weird."

"He doesn't know," I say. "He doesn't even ask."

"How can he not ask?" Zenia wonders, shaking his head. "How do you not want to know who the dicks belonged to that fucked you? I'd at least want to see their faces."

"Before they fucked you, huh?" Denny asks.

Zenia rolls his eyes again.

"Dude, he trusts Ren. Not a big deal," Denny says.

The conversation stops as the waitress comes over and I'm left staring at my menu as pieces of a puzzle I didn't know I was stuck on suddenly shift slightly and click into place. Felton does trust me. He trusts me with something as big as finding him a gang bang and not asking anything more. He trusted I would keep him safe—physically and his identity.

He trusts me to comfort him when his family has made him feel like shit. He's not only called me in the middle of the night in a panic, but he's also shown up on my doorstep.

But most of all, he's trusting me with his big things. The burdens he carries. His stress. His decisions—small and big, from going to sit with his friends and changing his clothes to hiring an attorney to sue the fuckers at his old agency and finding him a new one.

It hasn't escaped my attention that he hasn't chosen or made any inquiries. I haven't missed the way he instantly becomes stressed when I bring it up.

If I had to wager a guess, he'd choose whichever one I tell him to without question.

I look at Felton across the space and the possessiveness I've been fighting for a while now settles over me like a jacket. Maybe he's mine after all.

Felton looks up and meets my eyes. He gives me a smile, not looking away when I keep staring. His smile gets shy and the tightness in my chest expands. Fuck. Holy fuck.

I smile in return and see that he immediately relaxes, bowing his head a little more. Bashfully. It's cute.

"What's going on right now?" Denny asks, clearly witnessing our exchange.

Felton turns back to his friends when Dasan says something. For a minute, I can't look away. "Fucked if I know," I murmur.

But something is most definitely going on. Do I stop fighting it and let it happen? Am I prepared for that?

Maybe more importantly, can I put a stop to it if I want to?