Breakneck Hockey (Heartbreak Hockey #3)

18. His

Chapter 18

His

Casey

T he universe hates me. How do I know? Boston plays Calgary the very next week. In other words, Sutter’s on the ice with Hayes. Sutter and Hayes are evenly matched as far as weight and height go, but Hayes can’t gain ice or catch the puck to save his life, not with Sutter on his ass at every fucking turn. He’s out for blood.

Stacey turns his head. He’s lying on the couch beside me at our place. We just got home from being on the road and let me tell you, I’m beat. We ordered pizza and turned on the game. Next week is the anniversary of Mom’s death, but we won’t be here and decided to honor it this week.

I don’t need all the time I told Sutter I do. I was being a dick because, yeah, I was fucking irritated. At Sutter—always—but that’s nothing new. I was more irritated with myself than him. That’s how I know I have a problem. It was as good an excuse as any to take a Sutter breather. Get my head on straight.

“Is that about you?” he says.

How could he know?

“It might be.”

“Tell me again about how you’re supposed to be on a break with Sutter?” Stacey says, eyebrows raised.

“I am goin’ on a break. Everyone gets their last meal before they start their diet.” Or so I’m told. I’ve never been on a diet in my life. Even when I was under Coach Meyer’s dictatorial regime, I think I cheated too much for it to count.

I also didn’t exactly tell Sutter we were on a break. If I told him that, he’d be at my door, and I do want a break no matter how much joy fills me while watching Sutter’s ass get dragged to the penalty box on my behalf. I’m not even anywhere near the ice and he’s still getting penalties thanks to me. He’s beaking off the ref. He’s beaking off Hayes. All because he gets super fucking possessive over me.

I smile.

At some point, I stopped caring about how I’m his and settled into being happy that I know I’m his. We don’t need to be boyfriends. Mine is a fine label, isn’t it? These are the things I needed to think about.

Despite being a violent menace all game, nearly getting kicked out, Sutter manages two goals and one assist. Boston spanks Calgary so hard with five goals total, one of them an empty netter, which is always a touch demoralizing for the other team. I’m kinda proud of Sutter and that might be the weirdest thing of all.

I think about checking my phone for a message from him. He won’t actually listen to my demand for radio silence, will he? He’ll push his way in like he always does. Like he’s fucking supposed to.

“Was all that because Hayes hit you last game?”

“All of that was because Hayes’s hits led to bruises on my ass. That territory strictly belongs to Sutter and he’s defending it.” That shit’s better than flowers.

“I’m not gonna pretend to understand you two.”

I wait for the lecture that doesn’t come. There’s always a lecture. Where’s my damn lecture? Looks like nobody’s doing what they’re supposed to be doing. I check my phone this time—nothing—and slide it onto the coffee table so that if anyone does text me, I’ll see it light up.

Stacey slides another slice of pizza onto his plate. He sips his beer. He changes the channels.

“Just say it, Stace.”

“Say what?” He won’t look at me.

“Tell me how foolish I am for doing the Sutter thing. Tell me I’m gonna get my heart broken. Tell me anything.”

He huffs a sigh and turns off the TV. “Anything I say will make Sutter all the more forbidden. It doesn’t seem possible, but I think you would be more attracted to him than ever.”

Okay. He’s probably right. But still. “Your opinion means a lot to me, Stace. Do you think I should end it with him? For real, I mean.”

I’ve lost track of the number of times Sutter and I have “broken up” and “gotten back together”. For one, I don’t know if we can call it that since we’re not dating. For two, I doubt we’re done with that game. Sometimes we end because of real shit, and other times it’s because our bickering goes too far. I know it’s fucking childish, but we like it. I can’t say why Sutter likes it, but it’s the security for me. Done doesn’t mean done. I can say it, I can yell whatever bullshit I want at him, and if anything, it brings him back with more force than before.

Except, apparently, now. Where’s my fucking post-game text, asshole?

Ugh. I know what people say about relationships like ours. We’re toxic. We’re becoming codependent in a different way than RhettLo. We’re a dangerous addiction. Don’t forget the “don’t play games with each other” mantra.

But that’s the stuff I fucking like. Sutter does, too. Shouldn’t we be happy doing us?

“I’m worried,” he says in a voice a lot smaller than what my brother uses. He sounds like a different person. “But you’re a grown-ass man.”

He’s been saying that a lot, too.

“What’s up with you, man? Is this because of Dash?”

“Dude. Not everything’s to do with Dash, okay?” he snaps. Stacey’s not quick to anger, but that’s not to say he’s never angry. He’s protective of the ones he loves. But pushing him to the brink for general annoyance-type shit isn’t common. I’m gonna go on a limb and say there is something Dash related bothering him, but I get the message. He needs space on that. “I’d also appreciate it if we could leave the Dash thing alone for good. It’s not happening. It’s never happening.”

“But—”

“I’m serious, Case.” Stacey’s jaw is set tight. I rarely feel this far away from my twin. Even when we’re apart, I can sense him. We’re attached by a weird energetic string, and the creepiest shit happens to us because of it. I’m not supposed to miss when he’s in unbearable pain.

Okay, fuck. A Sutter break’s the right remedy. I’ve been paying way too much attention to him and none to my poor brother. I’m the fucking worst.

My eyes slide to my phone. Still nothing.

“I won’t bring it up again, but please promise you’ll talk to me if things go south. Please, Stacey?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he says, but it’s reluctant agreement at best. He’ll never fucking tell me. “I’ve actually, kinda sorta been seeing someone.”

“You have? News to fucking me. Holy shit. I know I’ve been self-consumed, but you couldn’t tell me something like this? What kind of an asshole do you take me for?”

“You’re not. I know you’re not. I’m glad you’re … Fuck. I thought it might worry you, so I didn’t want to say anything until it was more serious. It’s getting there, so now I’m telling you.”

My heart’s beating so fast. Can’t seem to get it under control. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Stace. I can handle you dating someone.”

A warm hand encircles my wrist. “Is that why you’re about to hyperventilate?”

Taking a measured breath, my eyes flick to my phone. I meet his gaze. “It’s new information. That’s all.” I’m the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s not easy hiding my devastation, but I try. I thought they’d be endgame for each other. And, yeah, I know dating doesn’t mean my brother’s gonna marry this guy, but it means he’s given up.

He lets go of my wrist and he turns toward me. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’m good. I’m always good. You know that.”

“You’re not. What the fuck is going on?”

Stacey runs a hand over his face. He mumbles something that sounds like, “fuck, he was right”. He rolls his head across the couch cushions. “Fine, there’s something, but I don’t know how to talk to you about it because … fuck.” He counts off on his fingers. “One, you’re gonna get excited for the wrong reasons. Two, I don’t want you to feel bad and there are two things to talk to you about that might make you feel bad. Any chance you can guarantee me you won’t feel bad?”

My stomach churns the mountain of pizza I shoved into it, congealing with the beer. “No.”

“I might as well just rip the Band-Aid off. Something came up in a conversation with Dash and he said I should talk to you about it.”

He’s right, the bubble of excitement is real about the Dash part. I tamp that shit down. “About what?”

“Look I never had time to digest Mom because?—”

“Because of me.” Anger courses through me, white and hot. I’m up like a shot.

Stacey sits taller. His hair tumbles over his shoulders. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything. I’m not mad about it or upset with you. I chose to put you first, and I don’t regret it.”

I can feel them, the tears. Threatening to spill. I let them burn my eyes instead. Quick glance at my phone. Nothing. What the fuck, Sutter?

“That comment you keep making about me being a grown-ass man. You’re trying not to baby me anymore.”

“I’ve never babied you, Case.”

“Yes, you have. You’ve been a caretaker for all of us in one way or another—don’t deny it,” I add when I see that he’s gonna deny it. He snaps his mouth shut. When the five of us were together—Dirk, Dash, Jack, Stacey, and I—Stacey looked after us. Making sure we had our bags packed. Making sure we got enough to eat. Breaking up bickering turned into argument. “Most especially me, though, and here I am caught up with the worst possible choice in fuck partner. You must be losing your mind every day.”

“It’s just, Casey, you do need a little looking after. In the tame-your-chaos kind of way. You need a man who can do that for you. Sutter takes your whirlwind-sized chaos and makes it a tornado.”

The tears will not be stopped, but I wipe them away quickly and glance at my phone again. Sutter’s supposed to fucking text me after he plays a game. Especially after he plays that good. He likes to gloat about it.

“At least tell me where you’re really at with him,” he says.

I flop myself back onto the couch. “We really are on a break … that he doesn’t know about, but it was so I could figure shit out. Pretty sure I decided I’m fine with how things are.”

Though, maybe he does know about it and he’s decided he’s done with me? Has our flavor worn out for him? Because it hasn’t for me. Oh my God, it fucking hasn’t for me. Still. I wish it would.

“Yeah, now. But what about when he decides he’s done with you?”

Maybe he’s decided that already. Know what? If he has, fuck him. I don’t need his stupid texts.

“It’ll probably be like the time I was addicted to that ramen place that one summer that shut down unexpectedly. I went through withdrawal, but then I tried all the other ramen places until I found a new one. Besides, I agree with you. I need someone who can calm my chaos and maybe look after me a bit. Sutter couldn’t look after a housefly, let alone me.”

Though, I kinda am a housefly with the way I buzz about, looking for food all the time.

I mean, I guess he was pretty good that day after the surprise press conference, but he was just being a possessive animal. And, well, maybe there was the time he equipped me with what he called “Betty’s friend Lucille”, which is just a sexist way of naming knives as far as I’m concerned. He was simply being crazy Prepper Sutter, though. He’s weird about that shit because … well I don’t really know, but it’s something to do with when he was little. Alright, alright, I guess he makes sure I’m amply fed after fuckfests, but that’s only because he wants more of my ass, and he knows he gets dick-all when I’m hungry. The only one I can’t explain away—or make sense of—is that time when I was at Jack’s in New York and he … well that’s the thing, isn’t it? I’m not sure what he did, just that he did something.

“Okay,” Stacey says.

“What do you mean, okay?”

“I’m gonna try not to worry about you. There’s a lot I don’t know about your relationship with Sutter.”

“I just told you about the ramen thing and?—”

“We both know you never found another ramen place. You settled for one. You fall in?—”

“Don’t say it. I’m not in love with Sutter. I’m not gonna fall in love with Sutter.” The whole thing sounds preposterous. Saying the words feels like the way peanut butter sticks to the roof of your mouth. It just doesn’t come out right. “Please stop worrying about me so much. Worry about you.”

“I’m doing my best. Old habits die hard. Especially when?—”

“Especially when you see that I’m getting ready for a great big fall. I get it, but even if I do, I’ll be fine. I barely even think about the ramen place anymore.”

“You remind us all, every time we eat ramen, that Kokoro used house-made noodles.”

“It’s hard to find a place that has noodles from scratch and forty-eight-hour broth.”

He sighs, reaching for the hat on the coffee table that’s still fucking Dash’s. He misses him right now, doesn’t he?

I can’t help but hate Dash just a little bit. I know that’s unfair for so many reasons, but he’s still one of the reasons my brother’s hurting. I’m another reason and so I hate myself for it, too.

“Tell me about Mom.”

“I think I will, actually, but not today. When we’re with her tomorrow. It’ll be healing for us.”

We’ll go to her favorite spot tomorrow with poutine and cream sodas. It’s tradition.

“You know, just because I haven’t found a new best ramen place, doesn’t mean I won’t. I have plenty of time.”

“True,” he says.

“Okay, what’s the other thing. Lay it on me.” After all that, whatever else he has to tell me can’t be that bad.

He takes a long inhale. “I got financing for a house.”

Financing for a…? Oh. All my limbs get heavy. My gut hollows out. He got financing for a house without me.

“I see.”

Stacey rubs the back of his head, face flushing with a smatter of pink creeping up his neck.

“I didn’t think I’d get it by myself but, in hindsight, a lot of doors have opened since we became famous hockey players. I haven’t bought a house yet. Barely had time to look. I thought maybe we could do that part together. That way, if you needed to move out for some reason, you’re not tied to anything.”

My brain scrambles to put words to what I’m feeling. I’m not good at that, though, which is why I usually jump to anger instead. I don’t have the right to be angry with him, but I can’t help the pangs of rejection.

“Did I miss a text message or something, bro?”

“I …” He does that back-of-the-head rub thing again. He huffs. “You’ve been distracted, and I needed?—”

“You needed something to distract you,” I finish for him. I might have been missing a few beats, but I’m still his twin and I know him.

“Yeah. Can you forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive, Stace.” I mean that even if my heart’s breaking just a bit. I’m blaming Sutter for at least half of whatever’s unraveling here, but I’d be a delusional idiot not to see that I’m on the hook for the other half. “It’ll be the end of an era.”

“No. Don’t start with that kind of melancholy. We can still buy something together since we know you’ll get the financing.”

He doesn’t want to do that, though. I can fucking tell. It’s all because he thinks I’m gonna race off into the sunset with Sutter. “I’m not gonna fall in love with Sutter.”

He bites his bottom lip like he’s trying to stop himself from telling me a secret or maybe more like he’s trying to stop himself from yelling what he thinks is the obvious at me. Stacey settles on a shrug.

“I don’t want things to change,” I admit. But even as the words fall off my lips, I know they already have. Everything is different. Breaking down. Mutating. All because I started fucking Sutter.

I check my phone—for the last time—and still nothing. I’m gonna bury his ass the next time I see him. He knows how we work. He’s not doing us right. Fuck that fucking douchebag. I don’t get him. He beats Hayes into the ice, which I know was a warning to stay away from me, but he doesn’t want me either?

Dick. Such a dick.

“Sutter’s not endgame, Stace, he’s just a game. One I’m gonna have the best time playing until the last buzzer sounds.”

He nods, but he still thinks Sutter’s the golden ramen or some shit. “Let’s shelve it for now, okay? I’ve got new guy anyway. Want to hear about new guy?”

I don’t. I want to hear about how he’s gonna steal Dash’s ass away from Syd because fuck Syd, but I’ve already been the worst brother of the year, and I think he’s actually excited about new guy.

“Yeah, bro. Tell me about new guy and can we get ramen for dinner?” All this talk about ramen’s given me a craving. Ramen is not code for Sutter. Sutter will be lucky if I ever talk to him again.