He brushed his thumb softly over his chest. His skin was so soft there. As smooth as butter.
His breathing stopped as he felt Taylor crane his head down and press a whisper of a kiss to the top of his head before laying his head back down on the pillow and letting out a deep sigh. Was it a sigh of regret? Shock? Confusion?
Their legs intertwined. Taylor’s hand moved up beneath Fletcher’s shirt. His body burned with lust and desire as Taylor’s hand explored the skin of Fletcher’s back. It felt perfect. Taylor holding him. It was perfect.
Fletcher didn’t know how long they laid like that. Together. Neither of them dared to speak. Speaking would make it real. It would break the bubble that had encapsulated them in a world where it was just the two of them. A world where they weren’t teammates or playing in the NHL. Where they didn’t always have eyes on them, being made into spectacles. A world where it was just him and Taylor. But Fletcher knew a world like that would never exist. It was wrong.
“Fletcher,” Taylor whispered. Their bubble popped. Fletcher squeezed his eyes shut.
He took a deep breath as reality slowly crept back into him. This shouldn’t be happening, Fletcher thought. This was so wrong. He and Taylor. They couldn’t. Fletcher needed to put his guard up to protect himself. He needed to.
He slowly opened his eyes and lifted himself off Taylor. “We should probably go to bed.” It sounded so cold coming out of his mouth. He swallowed.
Taylor sat up and nodded. Disappointment filled his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Fletcher nodded, refusing to look at him. “Yeah,” he sighed. “Let’s just… forget about it. Okay? My dad was just saying all that stuff to get under my skin.” That wasn’t what he wanted to forget. But he couldn’t actually say it.
Taylor still seemed to understand. “Okay.”
He cleared his throat and awkwardly slid off Fletcher’s bed to move his own. Painfully awkward. Fletcher wanted to scream and pull his hair out. What the hell just happened?
Fletcher reached over to the light switch between the beds and turned it off. Darkness enveloped the room like a blanket of safety. He turned away so he wouldn’t have to face Taylor. He needed to put as much distance between the two of them as possible, which was basically impossible if they had to share a room. He heard Taylor slide inside his covers and let out a loud sigh.
“Forget,” he echoed slowly beneath his breath, but Fletcher heard him anyway.
11
The Scandal
The Seaporters had beaten St. Louis 4-3 tonight, but no one on the team was in high spirits as they boarded the plane to fly back to Seattle.
“Ma, no. You don’t understand.” Sánchez sighed in frustration and rubbed his forehead as he spoke with his mom on the phone. “Andrew Sommersfue suspendido.” Suspended.
Taylor listened as his mom fired off sentences in Spanish loud enough for him to hear her through the phone currently pressed to Sánchez’s ear. He scoffed and leaned his head back against the seat. “No, Mama, esMenor.Dos minutos, Mamá. Solo dos.” That made Taylor chuckle. She must’ve been scolding him for getting locked up in the sin bin.
“My son! Causing trouble. On live television!” she had said in horror the last time it happened in her thick Dominican accent. Sánchez reenacted it for everyone, mocking her accent.
Sánchez pinched the bridge of his nose and made a dismissive gesture. “Douglasesfine. Tayloresfine, Ma.Todos bien.”
Taylor sighed. He wouldn’t say everything was fine. Andrew Sommers made a racist comment towards a Black official during the game after being awarded a five-minute penalty.
At first, they slapped on a ten-minute penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct. But after the period had ended, they removed Sommers from the game altogether, sending him straight down the tunnel.
It all started with a dirty hit. Sommers checked Fletcher from behind, sending him face-first into the boards. The puck wasn’t anywhere near them. Before Taylor could even process it, Douglas immediately went after him, ramming him up against the boards. The whistle blew, but Sommers wasn’t ready to give up.
“I heard Dallas has been having a really good season,” he taunted, laughing coldly. “It’s such a shame you were traded. Remind me why again?”
Douglas threw his gloves off and swung. Helmets hit the ice as linesmen narrowed in.
“Say it again, you fucker!” He snarled. “I fucking dare you!”
Taylor lunged to pull Douglas off him, but one of Sommers’ teammates came up from behind and completely blindsided him. Parker Wolfe slammed into him from behind, driving him shoulder-first into the glass. Taylor instinctively turned to throw a punch. His ears were ringing as his knuckles collided with Wolfe’s jaw. Pain shot up his arm on impact.
Roca finally managed to wrench Douglas from Sommers.
Fletcher pulled Taylor off Wolfe, tugging him by his jersey. Wolfe immediately lunged forward again.
“Taylor, enough!” The sound of Fletcher’s voice cut through the noise and knocked some sense into him. But that was only for a second.
