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“You didn’t hold a gun to my head, Mar.”
“It should’ve never, ever happened.”
He shrugged, kissing JT again. “When the dick’s good, the dick’s good.”
“Tyler!” She smacked his leg. “Jesus, between you and Ryan trying to fuck TK and my secret paternity test?” She shook her head. “Maury Povich would be proud.”
“In the case of one-month-old JT DiMara: Tyler Hayes, you are not the father!”
“Wow, I’m surprised you actually caught that reference.”
“You kiddin’ me? Me and Rook used to watch that dumpster fire all the time. Springer, too. Love that shit.”
“Of course you do. Anyway,” she said, reaching over to take JT from him as he was beginning to fuss. “Grab a bottle and the warmer out of the diaper bag for me, please. Is there somewhere you can go heat it up?”
“I got you,” he said, taking them out and standing up. “Hey? Just so you know: if those results had come back different, I’d have stepped up.”
“I know you would’ve.”
“And I’m gonna be there for him. Always. Someone’s gotta teach him all the best curse words and where to find the good porn. I mean, our preferences will most likely be a little different.” He winked at her and walked back into the building, where he plugged in the warmer, dipped into a nearby bathroom, locked the door, and proceeded to have a complete meltdown.
He’d just spoken to Dr. Ozbeck earlier this week about this very topic and how much it’d begun to eat him alive.
“You have to confront her, Hayes,” he’d told him. “You might need to have her take a paternity test, at least to put your mind at ease. Carrying an uncertainty like this isn’t going to aid you in your recovery. This could very easily trigger you to relapse, especially with how much it’s bothering you. You need to talk to her.”
And, as the universe had a funny way of doing sometimes, it’d managed to work itself out.
He splashed some water on his face, dried it off with some paper towels, and composed himself before leaving the bathroom to grab the bottle and the warmer. Before he headed back outside, he made a pit stop at his room to grab the orange whale and the blue penguin he’d crocheted for them.
As he rolled the little whale in between his fingers, he remembered how excited and nervous he’d been when crafting it, how he’d ensured every single stitch was perfect because it was potentially for his son.
Son.
Tyler Hayes stared at the little orange whale in his hand and struggled to understand how it was possible for him to be so relieved and so disappointed at the same time.
???
“Alright, one more round, then you’re outta here. Baylor and Koski, we’re gonna run you two on second line Sunday, see how you play together. We need to shake things up a bit.” Ryan and Koski helped Coach Cenzi move the cluster of pucks to the neutral zone, right in front of the blue line. “Take one rim-in-corner and we’ll call it a night.”
As soon as Cenzi skated out of earshot, the two shot each other shit-eating grins.
“I’d say we play together pretty well,” Koski said quietly, prompting Ryan to nudge him with his stick as they got in line behind the other four defensemen for the drill.
“Yeah, pretty sure our rim work is spot on, too,” Ryan quipped.
“You’re bad, Baylor. And I love it.”
“Yeah, well, you bring it out…”
“Baylor, what the fuck, man? Pay attention!” Cenzi screamed, causing Ryan to scramble like an old school cartoon character toward the wall as he went in hard after the puck Coach dumped there, then carried it behind the net. Once there, he executed a reversal pass back up the wall to Koski, then went to take his place on the opposite side so they could work on both their forehand and backhand passing.
He’d been doing OK, but Tampa’s defense as a whole left a lot to be desired. Ryan had always been more of an offensive minded d-man, but especially since coming to the NHL since the pace was much faster. He’d been making it a point to guard the blue line more like Mizrak had told him to and to use his size to his advantage, but he was still struggling with his passing. This was frustrating the shit out of his team when he’d end up icing the puck or dumping it instead of hitting his target.
It was a learning curve for sure, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t distracted by everything currently going on. Hayes and TK would be joining him at his apartment tomorrow night, and it was kind of freaking him out.
He had no idea what to expect, but he knew enough to make sure he locked up all the alcohol and his weed because the last thing he needed was to send those two into a relapse, especially considering the amazing progress Hayes had made.
The new apartment was coming along, as most of his furniture had been delivered earlier in the week, including his mattress, but the bed frame had just gotten there today and was currently in about six billion pieces.
