The Rest of the Story

by Tal Bauer

I’d finished my second year of a three-year contract in Winnipeg and it already felt like a too-long summer, watching other teams battle their way through the playoffs until the Étoiles lifted the Stanley Cup.

HUNTER AND BRYCE HUNTER AND BRYCE

“You haven’t checked in with me yet,” he said. “You’re not welcome in this room until I say so.”

FUCK OFF

Coates’ eyes hardened. “Obviously, you don’t. This isn’t the team who just traded you away, Elsher. If you were good enough for them, they would have kept you. But they didn’t. They let you go because you weren’t worth their time or their money, and now you’re here. Now you’re mine, and now you have to play by my rules.”

This is not right. He should be fired and never be allowed to work as a coach again

Everyone had the exact same meal, dished out in the exact same way: one tiny medallion of chicken, one small cut of steak, a lump of mashed potatoes, and a scoop of wilted peas. One dinner roll, which, if you painted it black, could be used on the ice. I could see the plate between those minuscule piles of food.

This is so sad 😭

Shea’s forearm rested against Brody’s from wrist to elbow, like that foot of contact was all that was holding Brody up.

My god. What did that damn coach do to Brody 😢😢😢

I shifted back to Shea just in time to spy Shea’s eyes traveling slowly up from my chest to my lips. Caught, his cheeks turned as pink as a peony.

Omgggggg

Was flirting with my brand-new teammate a wise idea? Fuck no, especially not in the middle of this shit show the team was cooking. I knew the right thing to do: tuck that little look Shea gave me away, carry on, and pretend I hadn’t seen it. Shea’s eyes finally slid back to me. I smiled. His cheeks flared again, but a grin tumbled across his face, there and then gone as he quickly smothered it.

I’m swooning already

Shea’s flush, his blue eyes, and his smile, which I already knew was bad news. A beautiful smile can make any man’s knees weak, but there was something about Shea’s that did more to me.

“Coates moved up practice. He got the rookies out on the ice at 5:00 a.m.” “Shit.”

Are you serious this fucking dude- piece of shit

I was halfway down the rink. And then— Coates struck Brody. He moved through the full fucking swing, Tiger Woods style. He’d put his ass into that hit, smacking Brody across the face with all of his strength.

What the fuck

Coates didn’t like that, not one bit. He snarled, threw a hard punch into Shea’s ribs before Shea could get his hands up. Then he punched Shea again, one more time for good measure, and spun him around on unsteady skates. Shea was defenseless, stunned, gasping for breath with the wind knocked out of him, and they were three feet from the boards.

You can’t just punch your athletes what the fuck? This man deserves jail. This is so fucking wrong

“So, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” I asked. That got a tiny smile out of Shea, followed immediately by a wince. “Don’t make me smile.” A fresh drip of watery blood slid down his cheek. I wiped it away. “Ah, but you have a good one.” He flushed.

Omg 🤭🤭🤭🤭

He wore a ball cap turned backward, and he hit me with a big smile, his eyes lighting up like he’d been waiting for me to walk through the door. He leaned into Brody and said, “I told you he’d be back.”

Awwww🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Home Depot didn’t open until 5:00 a.m., and I was parked outside ten minutes before the doors unlocked. They shouldn’t have sold to me. I looked unhinged: beard going scruffy, deep hollows beneath my eyes, my long hair escaping the knot at the back of my neck, fury and purpose in all of my movements. No one buys a chainsaw before dawn with good intentions.

Omg 💀💀💀💀

My gaze caught on the cut of his quads, the bulges above his knees. He had thick skater’s thighs dusted with delicate hair. Beautiful legs, powerful legs, the kind that squeezed when they wrapped around your waist. Sex-on-fire legs that you could feel jumping beneath your fingers—

Oop 👀👀👀

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Darlin’.”

So cute 😭

Personalities came back strong. Lawson, a ghost when I’d first met him, had gained fifteen pounds and rediscovered his inner teddy bear. I’m a traditionalist: I like my goalies chubby, and Lawson was a beaut. He was also, once the nightmares melted away, a tenderhearted softie with a belly laugh that filled up the corners of the dressing room. Gabe and Ridley were natural mentors, never happier than when they could patiently explain a move or a concept for the third time. Josh and Gavin had found something that maybe they thought they’d lost forever because, the way they were playing, they looked like they were tapping into flames that had stoked their own rookie fires years ago. Of the rookies, no one was louder or brighter or more vivid than Brody.

Awwwww this is so heartwarming 🥺🥺🥺

They were peanut butter and jelly: Brody was nuts, Lawson was sweet, and together, they could hallelujah the county.

I sense potential in this couple 👀 Are they going to become a thing???

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Once, I grazed his bare back after practice in the dressing room. I was stretching, and he’d stripped out of his compression shirt and was laughing at a story Brody was sharing. My fingers brushed his shoulder blade, and both of his arms erupted in goose bumps. He bent right over and relaced his entire left skate, and he’d taken a good long time doing it. I’d been captivated by how far his flush could spread. Right down his spine, all the way to the waistband of his shorts.

Oh my my 😍

If we’d been anything different, I would have already tried to charm Shea into my bed. He was exactly the type of guy to get me going. Gorgeous. Broad, lean shoulders, thick thighs, narrow waist. Legs that went forever. A brain to match all that beauty, and as kind as he was smart.

He was wearing short shorts that clung to his thick thighs and an Outlaws T-shirt that clung to his pecs. His biceps bulged beneath his sleeves, and his Adam’s apple jutted out from the tanned hollow of his throat. Those long legs went on forever, cut and carved with muscles and curves that would make you dizzy if you traced them too fast with your eyes.

Damnnnnnn

“I’ll make you proud, Morgan.” “I know you will, Darlin’.”

AHHH😍😍😍😍

Dusk was starting to creep around the edges of the mountains. Dazzling gold light fell across Shea’s face, capturing his laugh in a gauzy meringue and lavender heat haze. He was wrapped up in that tender glow, so gentle it seemed like a caress running up his bare arms and over all of his gorgeousness. He was a fucking dream. I had to look away to breathe again.

Omgggg

I had to put inches between me and Shea before I buried my face in his neck. God, I wanted him. I wanted to see his eyes flutter as I buried my face in his pecs and left beard burn on his skin, and know how his lips tasted and what sounds he made when he was clinging to the edge.

Onmgg😍😍😍😍

I could smell him, and I was dizzy with his scent. I had a moment’s daydream, a flash of imagining so vivid and scorching it burned me. Shea with his head thrown back, throat arched, gasping my name. His hands tangled in my sheets, thighs quaking—

You better stopppp

Finally, they smiled. My mistake, then, was looking at Shea. He wasn’t moving. The rest of the team was rising, a little pep in their step and life injected back into their veins after my talk. Not Shea. He stared me down, fires burning in his eyes hot enough to fracture diamonds. I couldn’t fucking breathe. We were locked onto each other, separated by this dressing room and our team, and I was lost in the riptides of his ocean blues. All I wanted, that moment, was to go to him and pull him into my arms. Let our lips brush. But he’d ignite me if I tried. I knew he would.

Ahhh this tension, I can’t handle it 😩😩😠

“You do. You’re giving them exactly what they need.” He resettled himself, getting comfortable, and then laid his cheek on my shoulder. His eyes slipped shut as I frowned. Was he… Yeah, he was. He was really going to do it, was going to use me as a pillow. Within minutes, before we were taxiing to the runway, he was asleep.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

No one saw me turn my face into his hair and breathe him in. And no one, not even Shea, heard me whisper, “Thank you, Darling.”

😭😭😭😭😭

Don’t do this to me, Shea. Don’t be wonderful. God, he was, though, and every day, he proved it. “I’m going to pull tape from the game for the meeting today. You wanna help?” His smile was so vivid and clear it knocked the breath from my lungs. “Of course.”

Ahhh he can’t resist Shea one bit 😭 I love it

I grabbed a dry erase marker and turned to the whiteboard and the projection, queued up to a freeze frame of the Étoiles in the middle of one of their famous rushes up the ice. “Here’s Hunter Lacey, who’s just dug the puck out of the corner. Look where his teammates are.” Etienne Leroux and MacKenzie Vaillancourt were angled low and high, cycling into open ice, as Bryce Michel came streaking in hot. “Hunter passes it to Bryce, and watch—”

OMGMGMGMGMFMFKDKKDKFF

But my mind wasn’t working right, and my thoughts were zigzagging to all the things I’d told myself were off-limits. Shea’s lips. The shape of his smile. How his laugh fell out of him and bubbled over me, light as champagne and summertime. If I folded him into my chest, he’d be a perfect fit.

Don’t say it, Morgan. Don’t fucking say it. My fingers tapped on the steering wheel. I made a left, rolled up to a stop sign. Don’t you dare. Our neighborhood was one right turn away.

DO IT

We moved at the same time, me toward him, him toward me, and we met in the middle in a frantic kiss. He groaned as soon as my lips were on him. Made little gasping noises every time we parted and every time we came back together. One of his hands grabbed the front of my hoodie. The other was still glued to my thigh.

I’M SCREAMING 😭😭😭😭

No. First things first. Teasing, then tasting. I lifted his shirt, pushed my face into his belly. Licked a path from his belly button to his waistband, following the line of his happy trail. His back arched. His thighs spread. He clawed at my shoulders, dug his fingers into my hair.

Damnnnnnn

He dropped a whimper into our kiss, and I swallowed it up. I was right—he did fit entirely within my arms. I could cover him completely, envelop him, hold him to me. My beard scraped over his cheek as I kissed his ear, his jaw, his temple.

I love this 😍😍😍

“Wait,” Shea gasped. “Wait, Morgan. Wait.” His eyes snapped shut. I stilled. He was flushed and breathing like a racehorse, beard burn all over his neck and chest. He looked destroyed, but all we were doing was making out. “You okay?”

There’s something about beard burn that just gets me I can’t 😍

“I’ve never done this before.” “Been with a man?” “Been with anyone. I’ve never…” He trailed off, his voice raw, his cheeks red, and his eyes sliding toward my carpet.

OH 👀👀👀 I did not expect that 👀

Shea shrugged. He dropped his fingers from my belt loop and scooted out from underneath me. We weren’t touching anymore. “Maybe. I don’t know.” The way his eyes skittered away said yes, he was, definitely. “I like the idea of it.” His voice was getting smaller. “Being someone’s one and only. A forever kind of thing.” Another shrug as he pulled himself up, slumped at the edge of the couch. “I want to be in love when it happens. I want the guy I’m with to love me, too.” Rouge flared from his cheeks to his belly as he grabbed his hoodie.

Shea🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

His fingers played over a scab on the back of one hand. “Morgan… I like you. I like you a lot, and I thought something might be happening between us. I know I did this clumsily tonight—” His lips rubbed together. “I’d like to date you. Whatever this is, whatever we have, I’d like to see if it can go somewhere.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“Shea…” I sighed. “I keep things simple, you know? I don’t… I don’t get involved like that.”

Noooo poor shea😭😭😭

So why was I kissing Shea like I wanted it to mean something a few minutes ago?

EXACTLY

He turned, and I saw the hot tears glittering on his cheeks that he’d tried to hide.

oh my god 💔💔💔

Bryce Michel was a very boring man.

But he’s boring perfect 😍😍😍

“What do you think—” I started, turning to Shea. He was asleep. Not just dozing, full-on knocked out. His cheek was pillowed against my shoulder, his mouth open, his exhales tickling my neck above the collar of my T-shirt. He’d passed out with his pen in hand, our notebook open on his lap.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“Why?” “No one cares about goals scored by Morgan Elsher.” A long, deep pull of my beer. Shea shook his head. “I care,” he said. He was smiling. “If we’re going to keep count of my goals this season, then we’re going to keep count of yours, too.” It just came out, slipped right the fuck out before I could stop it. For a nontalkative bastard, I sure did open my mouth around Shea. “I’ll give my first one to you.” He smiled, and it was like a million sparklers went off at once, a million little flashes of light in the depths of his eyes. The shine of him, the glow. He was incandescent. Wondrous. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I was so, so fucked.

He was as close to perfect as I’d ever seen, so close that it burned to be around him. He was like staring at the sun.

😭😭😭😭😭

Shea was a sweaty, smiling mess at my side for the entire night, leaving only when Brody dragged him out for line dancing. Even then, somehow, we found each other through the crowds, and while I was sipping my soda, he was beaming right at me. His smile arrowing through all those people made me feel like I was the only man in all of Nashville.

😍😍😍😍😍 Ughhhh I love how they can’t help but always be around each other

A body thudded onto a towel beside me, wet enough to flick damp seawater across my chest and kick sand over my calves. I rolled, glowered, ready to unburden my substantial irritation at my intruder— Shea—shirtless, in low-slung board shorts that barely clung to his hips, water dripping down his skin, skin I’d had my mouth on—was propped on one elbow and grinning. “Hi,” he said. I couldn’t have told you my name with a gun to my head.

Man is completely starstruck 😍😍😍

Who would I give my pucks to when Shea didn’t want them anymore? He had four of mine now, carefully numbered, each one For Darlin’. One time, I had to ball up the tape and throw it away. I’d accidentally written For My Darlin’.

So whipped 😍😍