Breakneck Hockey (Heartbreak Hockey #3)

22. Alderchuck Scores

Chapter 22

Alderchuck Scores

Casey

H enry said he was down to fuck, even with my no-repeats rule. It was a bonus in his book. He’s one of those hockey guys more focused on his career than his love life, but every dude needs to scratch the itch. Tonight, it all sounds good to me.

I’m done. So, fucking done with Sutter. For real this time. Even if I’m not, I have to do something so that I can be. Since fucking him out of my system hasn’t worked, maybe I’ll—finally—find dick elsewhere. It’s been hard with Sutter sabotaging my every attempt either in person, like the time he abducted me, or the simple invasion of my thoughts.

Before I go back to lying to myself, I have to admit that I haven’t wanted anyone else’s dick. I haven’t been looking. Can’t even remember the last time I logged into my Benduovr account. Like a fool, I began to think Sutter was maybe giving a fuck.

As if he’s listening in to my thoughts, I get a call from Sutter, and it stands out because it’s not a text. I’m in the back of an Uber on my way to Henry’s, I don’t have time for his shit tonight. But it’s about time he fucking called me.

This conversation better not lose me my five-star Uber rating. I’m an adorable passenger who brings snacks. Everyone likes snacks.

I’m not talking to Sutter right now because of our ridiculous fight, but it would be nice to hear him take some responsibility for it. Maybe he didn’t do anything this time—for once—but his behavior is the reason I’m on a hairpin trigger. And sure, he was hurt because all I feel are “I’m his sex doll” vibes from him, but it’s the truth. If he doesn’t want that to be true, then he should do something about it rather than being butt hurt.

“Rhett told me something interesting,” Sutter’s husky voice rasps.

Goddammit, Jack. Fucking blabbermouth. It’s one big game of telephone with Jack, Rhett, Logan, even Mercy now and then. Stacey, Dash, and Dirk aren’t any better. Okay, fine. I’m the worst one so I can’t complain, but I’m gonna anyway.

“Whatever Rhett said, he’s playing it up.”

“So you’re not going to fuck Henry Otterhammer?”

“Oh no, I am gonna do that.”

“The fuck you are. Cancel.”

I want to tell him to fuck off, but I’m not willing to swear in front of the Uber driver and ruin my rating. Also, this is delicious. Finally, Sutter in the palm of my hand. The wise thing to do would be to hang up and put my phone on silent, but that’s way less fun than what I’ve got cooking.

“Would you look at that, I’m almost there.”

“Alderchuck, I’m warning you.”

“Know what I’ve always admired Henry for? His big arms, can’t wait to have ‘em wrapped around me.”

“Henry couldn’t bench press a dowel rod.”

I hate how unaffected he is. This is just his whole I don’t want you, but no one else can have you bullshit again. He doesn’t care about me. I’m the idiot for thinking that maybe this was about something else. That maybe he missed me. All his “make sure to text me” bullshit had me thinking he cared for half a second—was that just so his fuck toy wouldn’t end up damaged?

Which reminds me, I know just how to needle the fuck out of Sutter from afar.

“Guess what else? He lives near Ivan’s Pub.” The thing about Vancouver is, some real nice condos are a block over from one of the shady parts of town. One side of the block, million-dollar condos, other side, run-down motels, pubs, the train station, and questionable vagabonds lining the block. They’re usually more harm to themselves than others. Usually. But I know Sutter will think about the other times.

“Hell, no. Casey, I fucking mean it. I’ll jump on a plane just to beat your ass.”

“Beat your ass” means spank in our language. Probably with his hand. That big hand. Dammit, I miss his big hand going to town on my delinquent ass.

Wait. He called me Casey.

“Don’t even have any protection with me, like that ridiculous knife you gave me. I’d have to use fists if it came down to it.”

“Must be real fun to fuck with me, but if I were there right now, it wouldn’t even be a conversation. I’d tie your ass to the bed.”

“Well, you’re not here.”

His huff isn’t the usual annoyance-filled kind. There’s something desperate in it. “Okay, you win, Alderchuck. What do I have to do to get you to go home?”

Is he for real? Let’s find out. “Tell me the truth. Why did you call?”

There’s a long pause.

“I was jealous. I didn’t want you fucking Henry. But now I’m worried and jealous. It’s a bad combo, Alderchuck.”

I’m enjoying his suffering even more than I thought I would. I’m in the middle of dreaming up how else to twist the knife.

“You’re worried about your toy getting damaged, oooor …” I let that hang there.

“I’m worried about you, dumbass. Have you told him to turn around yet?” Sutter’s gravelly voice says.

“You can’t tell an Uber driver to turn around.”

“Casey—” His voice breaks. There’s something in the breaking. Alright, I’ve had my fun and my revenge.

“I’ll hire him to drive me home but don’t think we’re done here.”

“We’re not. You’re staying on the phone with me until your feet hit the entryway of your house.”

H e makes me stay on the phone with him. He yells at the Uber driver—who thankfully can’t hear him—when he gives me a hard time about another fare. I promise him a huge tip and some Cheezies from my bag, and it all works out.

As soon as I hit the threshold of my house, I tell Sutter so I can end this bout of insanity, but he still won’t let me off the phone.

“I overreacted about what you said. I get why you’d say it. But you should know that, even though you are my sex doll?—”

“Sutter—”

“You’re also a lot more than that. I’ve never shown anyone but Lane my dad’s bike, and that’s only because we were kids.”

“Lane, just the man I want to hear all about.”

“I punched him in the face.”

“Tell me more.”

“I told him if he ever does shit like he did that night, I’d fuck him up.”

That’s more like it. That’s what I needed. I just wanted to know that he had my back.

“I coulda said what I said nicer. I don’t think you would have taken it much better but, yeah, I can see how my words would sting right after you brought me into your world. I was a dick, too. Forgive me?”

“Nothing to forgive, Alderchuck. I didn’t like it, sure, but I’m glad you said it. We good for real now?”

“Yeah, we’re good. But Lane and I aren’t.”

“I warned him. That’s his problem now. I’ll be at my parents’ for Christmas Eve dinner.”

Christmas break is weeks away. “Good for you. Good night. I’m hanging up now.”

“You’re coming to my parents’ house for Christmas, kitten. Deal with it,” he says and then hangs up on me.

His demanding voice makes me all fuzzy on the inside. I don’t get him. I don’t get myself when I’m with him.

I flop on my bed, staring at my phone, willing it to give me the answers to a Sutter puzzle that’s missing too many pieces.

“ W e’re still just going for dinner at your parents’ house, yeah?” It took a lot of convincing on his part. We haven’t dated. The closest thing to a relationship we do is fight like an old married couple. And then he asks, no, demands that I join him for Christmas Eve dinner with his mom, stepdad, and little sister?

Makes sense.

“Just the dinner, and sex at my house later.”

“There better be sex. It’s been almost a month, Sutter. Your balls better be just as blue.”

“They’re blue, Alderchuck. Enough talk about my nuts. Get in the fucking car and do your seatbelt up.”

After that whole situation with Henry, I stopped hooking up. It shouldn’t feel wrong to hook up, but it does. I didn’t talk to Sutter about it—no way am I touching the relationship topic with him after the last time—it was a decision I made based on my own virtues. But no way is Sutter as virtuous as I am.

I’m in the car with my seatbelt on, waiting for him to drive. He hasn’t started the car yet.

“Um, you okay, man?” I ask. Sutter’s acting strange, even for him. His hands are on the wheel, but he hasn’t even reached for the button yet. This car has one of those keyless ignition deals.

Finally, a hand runs through his hair, hair he didn’t wrap in a bandana for once. It’s free-flowing, falling over his eyes. He turns to me.

“I was thinkin’. Maybe we don’t hook up with anyone but each other, just until we’re finished with whatever this is.”

“No one can ever say you’re not romantic, Romeo,” I say with all the sarcasm in the world.

“Alderchuck,” he warns.

“Yeah, I’m down. Haven’t touched anyone else since you the last time we hooked up.”

“Good boy, Alderchuck.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t act like you haven’t been sabotaging my hookups, and warning every man in the NHL that touching me results in harm.”

A slow smile spreads across his lips, so damn proud of himself. “Same, I haven’t hooked up since us either. Here.” He takes a condom from his inner jacket pocket.

It’s already been opened. There’s nothing inside it. I raise my brows. We’ve done a lot, like, a lot, but I can’t begin to think what this might mean.

“Okay, so this idea was a lot cooler in my head,” he says. “I stopped hooking up, too. I’m tested and in the clear. I was thinkin’ that if you agreed to this and if you got tested too?—”

“I’m tested. I’m good, too.” It’s something I have done every so often. Upon my decision to stop hooking up seemed as good a time as any.

“Does that mean I can fuck you bare?”

Something savage and Goddamn feral darkens his eyes. Is being able to smell pheromones a thing? Because there’s a scent coming off him that I can only describe as man.

“Yeah, yeah, you can.”

“Fuck, Alderchuck. The only thing stopping me from bending you over the hood of my car is what Ma’ll do to me if we’re late.”

“Then let’s fucking get there, so we can go, eh?”

“On it.” He starts the car and revs the engine, but the beastly countenance never leaves his body.

He might kill me with his dick later, but I can’t think of a better way to go.

D inner’s awesome. Marie feeds me five servings of her carbonara with homemade pasta noodles. She tells me I’m the first one to clean out one of her pots. I take it as a major accomplishment. She surprises me with a to-go container.

“I was warned about your stomach. I made a second pot.” She winked and made Sutter promise to bring me back. I put the gifts I brought them under the tree when no one was looking.

As we’re pulling out of their drive, crisp snowflakes waft from the skies. “Shit. Fucking snow,” he says.

It snows about four times a year in Vancouver, if that. And naturally, Vancouver’s never prepared for it.

“Guess this means you’re staying the night,” he says.

“Or you take me home.”

“No fucking chance, Alderchuck. If you need to, consider this an abduction. You’re mine tonight. I’ll be fucking you into a coma, and I’ll continue to fuck you while you’re in that coma.”

I had no intentions of going home, I just wanted to hear him say that.

His phone lights up the car on the dash’s screen, a block away from his building.

Charles. Is that the same Charles he claimed was a fifteen-year-old boy he’s helping? Guess I’m about to find out.

“Fuck me,” Sutter says, answering the call hands-free.

“Mitch? Fuck, Mitch. Are you in town?”

“Yeah, kid. What’s up? Where’s Lane?”

This Charles is definitely a teenage boy, from the sound of his pubescent voice.

“I-I fucked up. I’m sorry. Lane’s truck is too busted up to drive in the snow. You need to get here.”

“What makes you think I can if Lane can’t? He’s closer.”

“I don’t know. You’re a fucking prepper. Don’t you kinda guys have ways of getting around in end-of-times scenarios?”

He sighs. “Yeah, we do. I’ll be there as soon as I can, kid.” Sutter hangs up.

I don’t know whether to be pissed, impressed, or plain disappointed. Whatever’s going on has kyboshed our night big time. Usually, I don’t get involved in Sutter’s business. Our new exclusive fucking policy is hardly enough of a declaration to entitle me to some of his life, but he’d better give me something.

He doesn’t, of course. He’s silent, driving up to his building’s drop-off area. He pulls over.

“I have to grab the keys to my truck and my storage unit. Wait here.”

“Why do I gotta wait in the car?” I’m pissed and I don’t really know why. I have obligations, too, and I’m certainly not one of Sutter’s.

“Because if you step a foot inside my condo, my dick’s going in your ass, kitten. I can’t let that happen right now.”

That does it, cools some of my burning rage. “Yeah, guess I can wait. Are you, uh, are you dropping me at home?”

“What part of abduction don’t you understand? You’re not getting more than three feet from me. Do I have to tie your ass up?”

Whatever I was pissed about vanishes into oblivion. Sutter bringing me with him—wherever the hell we’re going—blows all my angry smoke away. I add that to the growing list in my mind of things about Sutter I’m gonna have to have a conversation about myself over.

“Nah. You can do that later when you’re fucking me with your bare cock.”

I swear he growls. “All I know is that this better be a real emergency, or I’m gonna be pissed.”

S oooo, Sutter has a storage unit. A fucking large one that holds a monster truck—the kind you have to climb into—and a whole bunch of other stuff I’m positive would see us through the end of times. The truck has massive snow tires, and a back seat big enough for fucking.

Yeah, this totally suits Sutter’s personality. A helluva lot better than that other car he drives, but this truck would be horrible in the city. There’d be nowhere to park it, for starters. It can’t be good on gas. He tossed me a pair of ski gloves and a toque and told me in no uncertain terms to “put them the fuck on”. Spare winter attire, a big-ass truck … what else does he have stored away in case of the apocalypse? The whole place was lined with plastic totes organized on shelves. I spotted a workstation, too, but it was dark, and I didn’t get the chance to have a good look around. I’m for sure making him take me back there at some point.

“You couldn’t have kept your bike in there?” I ask him over the low growl of the diesel engine as we head onto the highway. There would have been no one to walk in on us in his storage unit.

“I don’t keep the bike at my parents’ house just for me,” he says. Right. I guess his mom likes to see it too. It’s actually pretty damn endearing that he thinks of his mom to that extent.

“I heard something about snow. Are we driving up to Whistler?”

“No. Other direction.”

“The Valley?”

“Yep. They got a dump of snow, and the highway’s a little slippery. We’ll be fine in this thing, though.”

“Pretty sure we could get bombed in this thing and be fine, Sutter.”

Stepping on the gas, the man actually fucking reaches over to take my hand. We’ve held hands exactly two times before this. I don’t know what’s going on, but I think I like it. Too much. I didn’t think I could do shit like this, but there’s something in the air. It’s felt like this before and it was a vibe like this that had Sutter threading his fingers through mine.

But we don’t do this. We fuck. We fight. We have awkward post-sex “get the fuck outs”.

He also brought you to his parents’ house for Christmas Eve.

He showed you his dad’s bike —which now that I think about it might have been Sutter’s way of introducing me to his dad.

When he struggles, he finds his way to you.

Ugh, when did I become fluent in Sutter?

Instead of pulling my hand away, I squeeze his. “Whatever’s going on, I’ll help,” I say. That’s all I can offer, honestly. Things might not be okay, but I can always help.

“How the fuck do you always know what to say to me? It’s like you’re fluent in?—”

“Do not say I’m fluent in Sutter.”

“I was gonna say fluent in Mitchell, actually.” He smirks.

“Wow, Sutter. Didn’t know that letting you fuck me bare was the key to your soul.”

He groans. “You need to stop talking about that. My dick’s so hard, and I need to have my game face for whatever we walk into.”

“Not preparing for this by asking questions isn’t very Suttery of you. Just sayin’.”

“Yeah, well. My game face can handle anything.”

“We’re nowhere near the valley yet. I’m gonna tease the living hell out of you until we get there.” That’ll distract him.

“Better fucking not, brat. It’ll be my turn at some point and you really don’t want me on that kind of sex-fueled warpath.”

“Nah. I think I do.”

I tease the living fuck out of him all the way to the Aldergrove turn off. I lose his hand, but Sutter’s game face returns.

Alderchuck scores.