The Rest of the Story

by Tal Bauer

I found a set of shark teeth as big as my palm and sneaked up behind him, then pretended to bite his hip. He spun, letting loose a high-pitched gasp as he flushed Harvard crimson. I howled, laughing so hard he tried to push me away, but I got my arm around his waist and held up those shark teeth, moving them like chattering, wind-up dentures. He caught my giggles, and we both turned into each other, too wound up in the hysterics to notice how we were inside each other’s space, our arms and hands and thighs together like we were hugging, or like we were doing more than hugging.

These little moments 😍😍😍😍

“Morgan, I wanted you to meet Rachel.” She beamed. “She’s a friend of mine, and I thought maybe you two might have some things in common.”

Uh oh 🫢

“She’s a good fit for you.” “We definitely had a lot in common. She likes to fish. Not many women like to fish. She’s got bad opinions on hockey, though.” I grinned at Shea— Shea looked like he was holding himself together by his fingernails. He bit his bottom lip, rolled it between his teeth.

Shea🥺🥺🥺🥺

The only thing I knew, with dead-set certainty, was that Shea deserved better than me.

Stop it 😭😭😭😭

What the fuck were we doing? I was gathering my courage and trying to line up syllables, put my good words in a row, when I heard Shea’s soft snore. He’d fallen asleep on me. Literally on me, his head on my chest, using me like his pillow—again—one hand even curled into the fabric of my shirt over my belly. He’d kicked his legs up at some point, and he was all snug and content on my couch. On me.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

We were a tangle, a ball of string, but somehow, everything fit. His arm over mine, folded under the throw pillow we were sharing, my hand flat on the small of his back beneath his shirt, all five of my fingers moving in slow circles over his soft skin. The valley of his spine, the knobs of his vertebrae. The curve, the fucking curve, above his jeans, the swell of his perfect skater’s ass.

Jesus they’re so perfect and they don’t even realize it

He was shaking. I wrapped my other arm around him, tucked my face into his neck. I’m here. I wanted to make everything perfect for him, run my fingertips up and down his arms as I whispered in his ear. I’ve got you. We fit so perfectly together, like we were made for each other, made to do this. His head dropped back against my shoulder. I watched his lips make the shape of my name. Morgan—

oh my GOD

“Shea… Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Everything inside Shea shut down. Those opaque glass walls dropped like guillotines behind his eyes. “I have to go.” I held up my hands. “Shea, I’m sorry. I’m fucking sorry—” “I—” He shook his head. “I need to leave. I—” “Shea—”

😢😢😢😢😢😢😢

He pulled our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles, too fast. “We can do it your way. We can sleep together, and I’ll keep it simple, I promise.” He swallowed. His pulse was a hummingbird fluttering at his throat. “We don’t have to date. I swear, I’ll be easy—”

Nooo😭😭😭💔💔💔

He shuddered, flinched. “You care about me? I don’t understand. What’s going on between us? You have to tell me—” His voice dropped into a rushed, strafed-hope plea. “I never know what to do or what to say or how to act around you, Morgan. You have to tell me what to do, please, because I can’t keep doing this. Please—”

💔💔💔

I went down and dragged him into my arms. Pulled his face to my neck and pressed my lips to the top of his head as I breathed his name. He clung to my shirt, holding on like he was afraid that if he let go, he’d fall off the planet.

Shea😭😭😭😭

We were two blown-apart men. Two shattered hearts in one bed. Two tangled lives that should have been parallel.

It was so horrible I hadn’t imagined it could even happen this way: Shea inside out and ready to throw away his dream for a once-and-forever kind of true love, one man to have and to hold for all time, and to love him like no one else could.

I didn’t deserve him But, goddamn, I wanted to. I craved the chance to be the man worthy of becoming Shea’s one true love.

“Morgan,” he breathed, so softly I don’t think I was supposed to hear him. He nuzzled my jaw, pressed his lips to my neck. “I’m in love with you.”

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“You mean everything to me.” My words hung between us. “You are everything to me. So let’s do this. Let’s really do this.”

FUCK YESSSSSSSS IM SO HAPPY 😭😭😭😭

I’m yours. I’m yours as long as you want me. You can smash me to pieces, shatter me into smithereens, and it will all be worth it, just for the chance to be part of your life.

“You said—” Shea frowned. A vertical line appeared between his brows. His gaze dropped, fell to my hands, clasping my iPad like it was a life preserver. “You said you wanted to give me the world.” “I will.” My response was automatic. My desire to leap out of the plane and get to work even more so. Where to start? Did I dig up the foundations of the earth, or did I try to harness the moon? Gather treasures and pile them at his feet? I didn’t know what to do, didn’t even have a shred of a clue. All I had was my hockey stick and my two hands, but, by God, I was going to—

“I don’t want the world.” Shea slipped his hand into mine, wove our fingers together. “I want you, Morgan. I just want you.”

“For the first time in franchise history—” Kathy paused. She was trying to be serious, but her smile was way too huge. “For the first time in franchise history, you will be playing to a sold-out home crowd.”

I’m so fucking happy for them

“Tonight’s game is also leading the national broadcast.” Kathy’s smile grew as the excitement in the room turned nuclear. “Hockey prime time. Which is another first. No Outlaws game has ever led the national broadcast. And when you win tonight—” She pointed to the room, to each of us. “You will take first place in our division.”

They way I just got goosebumps omg😭

We played keep-away with the puck until I stopped chasing rubber and chased him instead. I’d wrap him in my arms and bury my face in the exposed stretch of skin on the back of his neck between his helmet and the collar of his jersey. By then, my nose and lips were frosty, and he’d try to squirm away as I nibbled on the line of his trapezius. I could get him laughing so loud and bright, it sounded like bells ringing.

my GOD😍

We put everything together for our games, like always. We won at home again, went on the road, lost in Calgary, and traveled to Montreal. Montreal, unsurprisingly, kicked our asses, but we made them work for the win.

Well they have Hunter and Bryce so 😂😂😂

I, too, was curious about Bryce. He was the best player in the league, and he’d vaulted out of the closet at last year’s Cup final, to everyone’s absolute surprise. Coming out seemed to be going swimmingly for him and Hunter, but I wanted to see for myself.

It was ICONIC

“Brody had a lot of questions. He wanted to know how it happened. How I fell for you, how you fell for me. He wanted to know who made the first move. I told him I did. I told him I chased you.” Shea grinned. “You did. I was minding my own business when you hit me with that smile of yours. You brazen seductor, you.”

Ahhhh they’re so perfect 😭

“He wanted to know if this was legit, and if we were serious. I told him I was as serious about you as I was about playing hockey: that I wanted both for the rest of my life.”

I did. I wanted to meet Shea’s parents. I wanted them to meet me. I wanted them to know me, know the measure of me. They needed to know what kind of man I was, and that I would sooner throw myself in front of a train than let so much as a hangnail burden Shea’s days.

“I fell for Shea the first moment I saw him. I was gone from day one.”

“Every day since, Shea, I’ve been yours.” And I’ll be yours, as long as you want me.

It was happening now. Fuck the worries and fuck the tentative plans I’d chewed on. This was how it was going to go down: in my kitchen, Shea in wool socks and sweats and me hitting my knees because Shea is a man you go down on both knees for and beg to God you’re worthy enough to be there.

IS HE-

“Shea…” I kissed each of his fingers, stared into his blazing blues. “Shea, I love you.” Another kiss. Part of me felt like I was dying, and part of me felt like I was flying straight into the sun. “Will you marry me?”

Omg this is happening. THIS IS HAPPENING STAY CALM

“Marry me, Shea.” We were close enough my words were whispers of breath bouncing off his lips. “I’ve never wanted anything more than this: to love you, and cherish you, and honor you, and to spend the rest of my life as your man.”

“I love you,” I said again. I pulled out the words I’d said in that Dallas dressing room, when he was crying because I’d broken his heart for the second time. Never, ever, in his life would he cry because I’d hurt him, I vowed. Never again. “You are everything to me. You mean everything to me. Let’s do this, Shea. Let’s build our lives together. Please, will you marry me?”

I’m CRYING

Shea folded up my results and left them on the counter, then came up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. He rested his forehead between my shoulder blades and kissed my spine. “I love you,” he whispered.

I’m so happy for them. Especially Shea, because I know this is what he’s always wanted

Two days later, I was in the back lab of an upscale Denver jeweler and handing over my Stanley Cup ring. I’d bought a brushed-gold band with a solitary bezel setting, and I wanted the best diamond from my championship ring placed there.

He’s taking the best diamond off his STANLEY CUP RING for Shea’s ring??OMGMGMGMG

Say something simple, but profound, to honor the moment. Me, the same guy who lost his brain cells the first time I saw Shea in a bathing suit and couldn’t get my tongue working whenever Shea was brushed with candlelight. If a duck had my brain, it would fly north for winter.

“Of course I did. The most important ring in my life isn’t the Cup ring,” I said. “It’s the one on your hand that I put there.”

“I asked my mom to send me one of my skates from when we were the conference champs at Harvard. I took the blade and had a jeweler melt it down to make a ring.”

OMG 😭😭😭😭😭

Shea dragged in heaving, gulping gasps as I massaged his prostate. I pulled up so I could see his face, watch him when it happened. He was maroon from his hair to his belly button, his fingers locked in the torn-free sheets, his lip bitten crimson, his hair sweat soaked and sex ruined. He was beautiful, every inch of him, complete perfection as he trembled on the very, very edge.

WOWWWW

He collapsed into my lap when his cake was ready, his arms around my shoulders as I cut us a slice. His heart was still wild, and sweat ran in long rivers down the muscled channel of his spine. “Happy wedding day, Husband,” I said. Shea smiled, a sexed-crazed, gorgeous little grin, and pushed his forehead against my temple.

What a damn fucking wedding day 🥵🥵🥵

We were an unholy mess, covered in sweat and come and—I realized with a fucking start—Shea’s tears. I pulled back, stared at him as my heart fucking stopped. If I’d hurt him, if I’d done anything wrong. If I’d—

Crying after sex 😭😭😭😭😭

He pushed me down and sucked me until my thighs were shaking, and I had to drag him off before I lost myself down his throat. I hauled him north, had him sit on my face so I could eat him out while he held on to the headboard and lost the ability to speak or breathe or do anything other than fuck himself in circles on my tongue.

These two cannot get enough of each other 🥵🥵🥵🥵

Behind me, you could see the framed pictures Shea had collected of the two of us on our dresser, next to the pucks I had given him, my handwritten note, and my purple stick figure drawing.

That’s so fucking cute 😭😭😭😭

“Call 911!” Kathy bellowed. She was running. Her voice rose and fell like a siren, loud and then fading as she passed outside our dressing room. “Call 911, now!”

WTF WTF WTF WTF

“The only reason I didn’t kill myself was because Shea wouldn’t leave me alone long enough to get it done. And then you showed up.” He made it sound like an accusation, complete with a finger pushed into my chest. “You. You fucking saved me. You both fucking saved me. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Shea and you. And that fucker, he swore he’d come back, that he wasn’t done with me, and now he is back, he’s fucking back, and he’s going to hurt you both—” I hauled Brody into my chest, wrapped my arms around him as tight as they could go, and buried my face against the side of his soaked cheek.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

“Morgan…” She was still crying. “Are you okay?” “No.” My words were small, and they sounded frightened. “No, I’m so fucking far from okay.”

💔💔💔💔💔💔

Lawson’s fingers moved slowly through Brody’s hair, gliding from front to back, front to back, never stopping.

🥺🥺🥺 Brody and Lawson

Shea and I, sitting at the far end of the couch, shared a grin. “We never looked like that.” Shea leaned in, spoke softly into my ear. “Right?”

HAHAHAH YES YOU DID

Oh, yeah. Sorry. I beat you on being the first player in the league married to a man. Another player, too, but I’m not gonna tell you who unless you come down for a visit.

LMAOOOO

We eloped, so you can be the one to have the big ol’ gay wedding, since you like all that fussy stuff. Gonna invite the commissioner?

I WANNA BE INVITED