Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 (45 page)

They’d all had fun and the losing groups didn’t complain as they began to pick up the “minefield.” But Tyler didn’t feel right about taking off to have a nice dinner while the other men cleaned up. He looked over at the rest of his group, who all seemed to feel the same.

Kelly came over as Tyler upended a table to fold it. “You thinking what I am?”

Tyler nodded. “We’re a team. We do this quick and we can all go eat. I’ll put in some cash to cover the other guys.”

“Me too.”

After carrying the table with Kelly to the storage room, they headed out for more, meeting Manning as he came in with an armful of medicine balls and dumped them in a bin. Tyler patted his shoulder. “Me and Kelly decided there’s not gonna be a loser.”

“Fair enough—me and Kral were just discussing the same thing.”

Once the room was back in order, Manning went to Callahan and Shero to tell him what they decided. Callahan was smiling and Shero looked pleased. The announcement brought deafening cheers from all the Cobras.

About an hour later, as they finally sat down to eat at a local steakhouse, Shero stood and raised his wineglass. He regarded each man at the table with a big grin on his weathered face. “A few of you paid for this learning experience with some bumps and bruises, but you all won. In two hours, we will show the Flyers who we are. A team that was dismissed too soon. A team that hasn’t given up the fight!”

Banging on the table, the Cobras all shouted their agreement. Some Flyers fans at the other side of the restaurant booed, but none of the guys even glanced their way.

Tyler chewed on a piece of steak, feeling damn proud to be part of this team. But he almost choked on the meat when he saw Luke snatch a bone from Ramos’s plate to add to the utensils and condiments he was using to show Kelly and Richards a game plan he’d come up with.

Ramos casually replaced the bone with a bun so he could finish the meat, and slid the saltshaker over a few inches. “Your defense is too far over,
niño
.”

Luke frowned, then nodded. “You’re right. Okay, so if you pass to Richards here…”

About three hours later, sitting on the bench in the Wells Fargo Center, well into the third period, Tyler watched Luke’s supper play set up smoothly on the ice. They were leading 1-0 against the Flyers, and the Cobras had taken a beating physically, but their passes were flawless and the score would be much more one-sided if the Flyers’ goalie wasn’t robbing them blind. The puck flew across the rink, from one defenseman to the other, then up to Kelly, who whipped it over to Richards. He took a shot, intentionally wide of the net. Luke snatched up the rebound and drilled it over the sprawling goalie’s shoulder.

The ping of
the post. The puck dropped right over the goal line.

Tyler whooped as he jumped to his feet. He fist-bumped the guys as they skated by the bench, then vaulted over the boards to take the face-off at center ice.

A clean win of 3-0. Tyler only had one assist, but even scoring wouldn’t have felt better than knowing they’d done this as a team. The locker room was alive with excitement, guys chatting about the last road game in Minnesota, others joking and making plans for the night. No one was in a rush to leave.

Neither was Tyler, until he saw Raif slip out of the locker room with Pearce. He trusted Raif, so he wouldn’t dwell on it too much, but he couldn’t ignore the undertone of suspicion that filled the room, rancid after all the progress they’d made, like a rotten egg being smashed open on the floor.

Pischlar came over and nudged Tyler toward the door. “Come on, there’s a teen room in the hotel with some games I wanna try. You ever play Infinity?”

“Yeah, Casey has it.” Tyler grabbed his bag and led the way. The team bus wouldn’t leave for at least half an hour, so they took a cab. In the teen room, he managed to get into the game as he showed Pischlar all the tricks the different Disney characters could do.

Was almost enough to get him to stop wondering where Raif had gone with Pearce.

They were in the middle of racing when Coach Shero came in. He motioned for them to finish, his lips slanted with amusement as they got back into the game, bumping each other and shouting to try to gain the advantage. Pischlar toed off his dress shoes and suddenly his foot was stroking the back of Tyler’s calf.

Tyler went over a cliff and Pischlar took the lead.

“Son of a bitch!” Tyler tossed his controller on the couch and pulled Pischlar into a headlock as the man did a seated victory dance.

Shero chuckled and stood. “I’m glad you boys are in good spirits. I hate to disturb you, but would you be able to tell me where Richards is? I’d like to speak to him and he’s not in his room or responding to texts or calls…unless he is a heavy sleeper?”

“Richards doesn’t go to bed this early. He’s probably hanging out with some of the guys.” Tyler grunted as Pischlar shoved him back by the forehead while rising from the couch. “We’ll find him for you, Coach.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Shero shook both their hands, then left.

Pischlar pulled Tyler to his feet, his playfulness fading as he headed out to go to the elevator. “He’s probably with White. They’re drinking buddies now.”

Tyler shrugged. “White don’t drink that much.”

“He didn’t used to. But ever since…” Pischlar’s lips thinned, and he didn’t complete the sentence—Tyler had a feeling he had been about to say Tim’s death. But he waited for Pischlar to continue. “Let’s just say, I don’t think he’s the best influence.”

They got off the elevator and went to knock on White’s door. Loud music and rhythmic banging made it obvious someone was in there. But they probably hadn’t heard the knock over the noise. There’d be complaints if they didn’t turn it down soon—it was already after ten.

Pounding at the door, Tyler spoke as loud as he could without shouting. “Richards, get your ass out here! It’s important!”

The music died. Second later, the door opened to reveal Richards. Naked, with only a towel held in front of his dick in a pathetic attempt at modesty. His face was red and beaded with sweat and he reeked of beer.

“Hey, Vanek. Pischlar.” He gave them a jerky nod. “Umm…what’s up?”

Beside Tyler, Pischlar stumbled back a few steps.
So not good.

Scowling at the rookie, Tyler moved away from the door. “Coach is looking for you. You might want to just call him though because you smell like a fucking brewery. You’re lucky we ain’t playing tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Get your ass back in here, Braxton!” White shouted. The music came back on.

Richards flashed Tyler an apologetic smile. “I’ll call him. Thanks for the message.”

He closed the door in Tyler’s face.

Pischlar had already made it halfway down the hall. Tyler hurried to catch up with him, not sure what he could say to make this okay. Being in love with your best friend, who’s completely straight when you’re not, couldn’t be easy. Finding that friend fucking another man…too messed up. He waited for Pischlar to curse or punch a wall. To turn around and go back to the room to confront White. Any of those things would force Tyler to react fast and he could handle that.

Instead, Pischlar simply pulled out his key card and turned to give Tyler a stiff smile. “I had fun. We should do that again sometime.”

A beep as Pischlar slid his card into the card reader. He opened the door, stepped inside, then paused, looking over his shoulder with clear dismissal in his blue-gray eyes.

Bad. This is really bad.
He almost
wanted
Pischlar to get mad. Or upset. Or at least say
something
! Tyler held the door open as Pischlar entered the room, unbuttoning his jacket, hanging it up, then doing the same with his dress shirt. The man was not okay. Tyler should probably leave him alone to deal with what had happened in his own way, but that didn’t feel right.

He glanced down the hall. Back at Pischlar. Scratched his jaw. “Hey, you want to come hang out in my room? Raif should be back soon, and we can all watch a movie or…”

Pischlar went still, hands on his belt buckle. He met Tyler’s eyes. “Or?”

All right, he wanted to be there for Pischlar, but…offering anything without Chicklet’s or Raif’s approval would not end well. He couldn’t call Chicklet because she went to bed early when she stayed with her dad. She usually called in the morning—or he did if he was up first. They had a routine which was comforting when they were apart.

But Raif
was
here. Somewhere. And Tyler wanted what he’d said to be true. He would be back soon…

“Thinking so hard, kid. I’m sorry.” Pischlar came over and ruffled Tyler’s hair much like Raif did. Which made Tyler think of Raif even more. Damn it, couldn’t he have at least told Tyler where he was going? How long he’d be? Tyler would have given him that respect.

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do nothing wrong.” Tyler retreated from the door. From Pischlar. Maybe going to his room alone would be best, but then he’d just sit there and get more pissed off. “Was a good day and it’s ending…well, all fucked up.”

“Have you seen
The Lego Movie
?”

Random much?
Tyler stared at Pischlar.

Pischlar laughed and tugged him down the hall, letting his door shut on its own. “I know you like that kinda movie and I saw some previews. I’m curious.”

“Yeah…Casey wanted to see it, but I wasn’t sure and she’s observant, so she told me I had to go to the next good movie and made Demyan and Pearce bring her. I think Luke went too.”

“We can watch something else.”

“Sure. Whatever you’re into.” Tyler swiped his card and let Pischlar into his room. He took off his jacket and tossed it toward the dresser. “Not like I only watch kids movies. They’re just…relaxing. You can enjoy them and not think too much.”

“I like that. And…hell, I
need
that right now.” Pischlar grabbed the remote off Raif’s bed and sat down to scroll through recent movies. “I wish…I wish we hadn’t gone to White’s room.”

Finally, a reaction. Tyler sat beside Pischlar, watching the preview for
The Lego Movie
and agreeing it might be entertaining at least. He wasn’t sure what to do when the movie started and Pischlar slid up on the bed to recline on the pile of pillows he set up. Would be easier if Pischlar was fully dressed, but Tyler kept finding himself staring at the big tattoo on Pischlar’s chest. Glancing over to read the white ink on his ribs again. But Pischlar didn’t seem to notice, or mind, his looking. So he propped himself on an elbow and admired the old-style compass on Pischlar’s wrist.

Plain black and white, but it was cool. Made Tyler want his own ink. He should probably ask Chicklet first though…

Or maybe not. She’d been mad about his getting his nipples pierced in a bar. But she always wanted him to be safe and…well, that hadn’t been. He filed away the thought and looked at the tattoo on Pischlar’s pelvis. His pants covered most of it. All except for the wings.

Look, but don’t touch. Tyler was pretty sure he understood Chicklet’s rules. She was the one who usually blurred the lines. But now Raif could do that too. But he wasn’t here.

“You learn quickly,
zlato moje
. I almost feel selfish having you only sucking my dick since you do it so well.”

Tyler wet his lips with his tongue, looking over at the TV when he caught Pischlar watching him. His cheeks grew hot, and he hoped the other man couldn’t guess the direction his thoughts had gone.

“You’re in for it now, angel. Your man isn’t greedy. I can just see you now, surrounded by men while they each take their turn with you.”

Yeah, Chicklet wouldn’t have a problem with Raif sharing Tyler. The idea of being shared had scared him, but so had some of the past scenes she’d suggested. He’d never been completely comfortable with Laura being handed off to random men, but that was between her and their Mistress. Neither had asked for his opinion.

But he knew Raif would want to talk before he brought in another play partner. And if given the choice, Tyler would want someone he was comfortable with. And who better than Pischlar? Pischlar wasn’t a threat to their relationship, and fooling around might cheer him up.

That or a few drinks. Since when do you offer sex to your buddies when they’ve had a rough day?

Never. And he wouldn’t start now. Especially without Raif around.

Drinks it is.
But he couldn’t resist drawing his finger along the tip of the wings. Pischlar hissed in a breath, then laughed. “Damn, you’ve come a long way. Few weeks ago you wouldn’t have been so comfortable touching me.”

“Still shouldn’t be.” But Tyler didn’t move his hand. His pulse quickened as Pischlar’s muscles hardened under his fingertips. He heard the door open and close. Met Pischlar’s questioning gaze. “I like your tattoos. They all done by the same person?”

“Mmm…most of them.” Pischlar gave him a hooded look. “Why, you want one?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Think long and hard. I wouldn’t want you doing something you’d regret.”

Raif stepped up to the end of the bed, his arms folded over his chest. He looked damn sexy in his dark blue suit. But not too happy. “Should I apologize for interrupting?”