Between the Pipes Read online

  When Trey dreamed of one day playing professional hockey, he always imagined it would be for one of the top ranking NHL teams. He never fathomed he’d end up on a last place, farm team and struggling to live from one paycheck to the next. Instead of limousines, endorsement deals and accolades, he’s stuck with a rundown rink, jeering ex-fans and a crappy second-hand truck that only runs fifty percent of the time. Then his life goes from sucky to sucky-er when he’s blackmailed into coaching a group of kids from the local rink. Trey’s never been good with dealing with other people, let alone their mini-versions, so he’s certain it’s all going to end in one huge disaster.

  As a member of the Battle Creek police force, Wade is proud of his town. Sure their local hockey team may be in last place, but with the new goalie, things seem to be looking up. When he finds out his nephew is being coached by that very same goalie, Wade can’t wait for a face-to-face encounter. He’s not prepared to find himself instantly attracted to Trey. Especially when it becomes apparent that Trey is hiding something from his past.

  Trey wants to get closer to Wade, but knows to do so could spell disaster for not only him, but the rest of his family. Will Trey be able to give into his desires or will the past continue to hold him down?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Between the Popes

  Copyright © 2011 Stephani Hecht

  ISBN: 978-1-55487-814-7

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

  Look for us online at:

  www.eXtasybooks.com

  Between the Pipes

  By

  Stephani Hecht

  Dedication

  To all my readers who insisted that Trey’s story be told. This one is for you.

  Chapter One

  Since he’d been a certified rink rat from birth, Trey long ago grew accustomed to the hard biting scent of the manufactured ice. In fact, he loved the smell since it was the one place where he truly felt comfortable in his own skin, the sole place where he felt safe and free from the harsh judgment of others. Once he hit the ice, it didn’t matter what he was in the real world, or where he came from. It was just him against the other guys—hockey player against hockey player—and rarely did he come out on bottom.

  However that did not mean he wanted his face nearly pressed cheek-to-ice to it, which is where his sorry ass currently was. True, his goalie mask made it so there wasn’t direct contact with the cold stuff, but it was still close enough to be a tad bit uncomfortable.

  “Let me the fuck up,” he snarled with as much vengeance as a goalie pinned down by twin idiots could muster.

  His older brother, Chad, who had planted himself on Trey’s upper back, gave his helmet a brain-jostling pat. “Nah, I’m pretty comfortable here so I’ll think I’ll stay for a while.”

  Trey shook away the birdies and gave another snarl, although, thanks to his current position, the noise was mostly swallowed by the ice. “I said I was sorry for the cup check. What more do you want?”

  “Somehow an oops, my bad doesn’t cover jamming a goalie stick between somebody’s legs,” drawled Devon, who was camped out on Trey’s legs.

  “I only did it once.”

  That earned him another helmet slap.

  “Okay, maybe twice.”

  Slap!

  “Three times?”

  Slap! Slap!

  “Okay, I did it to most of the team,” Trey conceded. “Does that mean you have to give me brain damage?”

  “Too late. That incident already occurred when we found you eating those paint chips.” Chad gave a sad sigh

  “Cut him some slack. A lot of kids do that,” Devon interjected.

  “Who said anything about him being a kid? I saw him doing it last week.”

  “Ha, ha, ha,” Trey deadpanned. “Will you let me up now?”

  “No, those cute blue eyes and blond hair aren’t going to get you out of this. The guys at Peacocks may be a sucker for your I’m-so-innocent boy charm, but not me,” Devon growled.

  “How would you even know how my charm worked on them since the last time we went there, you spent most of your time making out with Saul?” Trey made a mock gagging noise, even though he truly was happy that his brother found somebody to love.

  “Yet, Niki says I’m the sex obsessed one,” Chad interjected, speaking of his wife.

  Out of nowhere, another blow coldcocked him in the helmet. Trey looked up blearily to see the team captain, Kip, standing over him.

  “If it wasn’t for the fact that you have such a great save record, I’d beat you myself. I have the best protection money can buy, yet my nuts are going to be bruised for weeks.”

  “Let’s face it. Even if my stats sucked, you’d still be stuck with me. Rich hasn’t been fully awake since he hit puberty and discovered Internet porn,” Trey snorted.

  As one, they all glanced down at the other end of the ice to the team’s backup goalie. While he stood in the net as half the team fired off slap shots, Rich only managed to stop one out of three. Even then it looked as if the ones he did save were by pure luck.

  “Why hasn’t the team traded that jerk away?” Trey asked, not bothering to hide his disgust.

  Chad snorted. “Ah, let’s refresh your memory of our situation. Our team hasn’t made the playoffs in over a decade. We’re in the minor leagues and our rink is unfit for even livestock to reside in.”

  “Not true, I happen to think a cow would be perfectly happy here,” Trey interjected.

  After giving him another slap, Chad continued. “Let’s not forget the fact that the only way to get our coach’s attention is to be very, very bad boys. So unless Rich starts a fire or releases a sex tape, he’s good to go.”

  Despite still being under over four hundred pounds of twins, Trey grinned. “I tried to make a sex tape once, but it didn’t work out so well.”

  “Really?” Kip asked, one blond brow kicking up in interest.

  Trey’s grin grew wider while his brothers groaned. Sometimes it was almost too easy to get their captain to walk into Trey’s verbal traps. When would he ever learn?

  “Well, you see the night started out innocently enough…well as innocent as two guys decked out in all leather can be,” Trey started, to added groans of dismay from the twins. “I found this perfect daddy type at Peacocks.” He paused long enough to glance up at Kip. “Have you ever been there?”

  A tick developed in the captain’s jaw as what may have been fear briefly flashed in his blue eyes. “The gay bar scene is more your thing than mine.”

  Going by the covert glances Kip kept shooting, Sergei, one of their younger teammates, Trey was tempted to call the man out on that one. In the end, he let it be. It’d never been Trey’s style to out others so he wasn’t going to start now. Especially somebody he respected so much.

 
“You should really go sometime. If for nothing else than to see the picture of the bar owner’s father.”

  “What’s so special about him?”

  “Other than the fact that he’s in full drag, nothing.” Trey beamed as he blinked innocently.

  “You’re off track again,” Chad informed him.

  Not surprising since Trey often zigzagged off topic whenever telling a story. So he took a deep breath and continued, “So, any-hoo, me and Sir Assless Chaps decided to go to a nearby hotel. He even agreed to let me record the whole thing. Not so I could upload it the net or anything, just so I could have jack off material. I do have my standards after all.”

  “You do?” Devon asked incredulously.

  If he hadn’t been wearing his blocker and catcher, Trey would have flipped his brother off for that comment. It never fails. You indulge in a glory hole or four and they want to slap the slut label on you. In the end, Trey just ignored the comment and went on with his story. “So, we go back to the room, start getting into it and then I try to set up the camera. The only thing is I don’t know how to work the damn thing.”

  “You couldn’t operate a simple video recorder?”

  “In my defense, it was a new one and I may have forgotten to read the instructions,” Trey defended.

  Chad finally slid down enough so Trey could have more movement. He went up on his elbows so he could look at his audience while he continued with his outlandish but true, tale.

  “How did your, er….” Kip seemed to struggle with the correct term for a moment. “Uh…leather daddy take that?”

  Trey gave a sad shake of his head, or at least he hoped it looked sad. With his big, bulky goalie mask, he couldn’t be sure the sentiment carried through. “He wasn’t too pleased with me. As I was leaning over to look at it more closely, he spanked my ass.”

  “He what?” Chad demanded, outraged.

  “I know! Not that I have a problem with others getting into that kind of stuff, but paddling has never been my thing,” Trey said, deliberately misreading the reason behind Chad’s shock.

  “No, not when you have the glory holes at the dive bar back in Detroit to fill in your kinky needs,” Devon snipped.

  Trey nodded his agreement while he shot a sly look at Kip. Going by the blush coloring the forward’s cheeks, Trey would be willing to bet his goalie pads that he wasn’t the only one who liked glory holes. He idly wondered if Devon had the same suspicions about their captain. Just as quickly, Trey dismissed that question. For a gay guy, Devon had piss poor gaydar. So much so that he’d been the only American citizen who’d been shocked when Ricky came out.

  If only Kip were more Trey’s type, he may have been tempted to push a few buttons to see how much it would take to get into Kip’s closet. Trey sighed, too bad he liked his guys taller, older and with dark hair because that would have made for some interesting road trips.

  He pushed those thoughts aside and got back to his story. “So, I finally managed to get the camera rolling only to discover that I forgot the lube.”

  A snarky thrill went through Trey when he heard Chad mutter a curse, while the flush on Kip’s cheeks deepened. Knowing he’d made at least two members of his audience squirm, Trey went in for the kill. “While I do like things rough, not even I’m willing to do a dry fuck and spit just doesn’t do it for me.”

  Ha! That would show Chad for going on and on about his and Niki’s sex life. Just that morning on the ride over, Trey had to listen to a whole, drawn out explanation on his sister-in-law’s ovulation cycle.

  “Mr. Leather didn’t have any on him?” Devon asked, a hint of laughter in his tone.

  “No, his pants were assless, hence no back pockets. So he couldn’t carry anything on him. I got dressed and told him I had to run to the store to grab the supplies. I was only away ten minutes tops, but when I got back, he was gone.”

  “Gone?” Chad asked.

  “Gone!” Trey repeated in his best can-you-believe-it tone. “And after all the trouble I went to in setting up the whole scene. Can you believe it?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I can’t. If this story came from anybody other than you, I’d be tempted to call bullshit,” Kip said.

  Trey didn’t know if that were a compliment or a cut down. So he decided to take it on a positive note. “Thanks, Kip. I do lead an interesting life.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “The whole situation did teach me one thing though,” Trey added.

  “I’m almost afraid to ask what that was.”

  “That it’s not as easy as it looks to make a sex tape. So instead of looking down at Kim, Pam and Paris, we should be impressed.”

  Kip lifted his gaze up to Chad. “Paint chips you said?”

  “Yup.”

  Kip nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

  Trey let out an exasperated sound. “Damn it, Chad. Tell me that you did not share that lame joke with the rest of the team?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s so funny I sent it into Readers’ Digest.”

  Kip gave Trey’s helmet a love tap before warning, “You give one more cup check today and I’ll feed you to the Zamboni.”

  He then skated off, leaving Trey alone with the body-crushing twins. Trey shifted around a bit and, when they didn’t get the point, asked, “So are you guys going to get off me any time soon?”

  “After that bullshit story? You’re lucky I don’t start pounding you in the head again,” Chad replied before he did just that, his hand connecting with Trey’s helmet so hard the slap resounded through the empty arena.

  Trey’s head was still ringing even after practice ended, so the last thing he wanted was any more annoyances. Try telling that to Amy though, because damn if that reporter wasn’t waiting for him. She attacked the minute he stepped out of the locker room.

  “It’s about damn time. I was about ready to come in there after you,” she said by way of greeting.

  That, Trey didn’t doubt. From her severely cut, black hair to her pantsuit-only wardrobe, she was the go-for-the-guts, take-no-prisoners type. So he could see her barging into a room full of half-naked men, so long as it got her to her goal.

  “Why? What did you want?” Trey asked wearily.

  She tsked, her bright red lips pursing together in disapproval. “Can’t one friend look up another friend without there being ulterior motives? Or does this go back to you hating all reporters?”

  “I don’t hate Saul and I like you just fine.” In truth, Trey all but idolized Amy since she’d put her neck on the line to keep his family secrets firmly buried where they belonged. That still didn’t mean he didn’t have his suspicions about her current visit.

  “I need you to do something for me,” she admitted.

  Trey shifted his goalie pads to his other shoulder. Not for the first time, he yearned for his all-too brief NHL days, where he didn’t have to lug his own equipment around. Sure, he could have left his junk in the Hawk’s locker room, but since the lock didn’t work on the door, there were no guarantees he’d find it where he left it come next practice.

  He sighed heavily. “How many times do I have to tell you I can’t be your beard? The whole hockey world already knows I’m gay, so I’d blow your cover.”

  She whacked him on the side. “Can you turn off the smartass for one minute?”

  “I thought you loved that side of me?”

  “True, it sure beats the moody, depressed Trey that first moved here, but I need you to try to be serious for a second.”

  “Buzzkill.”

  “You can call me whatever you want, just so long as you agree to help Andy out.”

  “What’s an Andy and why does he need my help?” Trey set down his pads and bag since he had a feeling the conversation would be dragging on for a while.

  “He’s my nephew and he needs somebody to coach him.”

  “He’s a goalie?”

  “Well, duh.” She gave him the are-you-stupid blink. “If he was a
forward, do you think I would come to you?”

  “Sure, coaches come to goalies for tips on how to score all the time.” Trey shrugged.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, you told me I had to be—remember?”

  “Has anyone ever told you that trying to have a conversation with you is like trying to catch a room full of errant bunny rabbits?” she huffed.

  “All the time,” Trey deadpanned.

  “Andy’s a goalie. Or at least that’s what his equipment and aspiration declare him as.”

  “So is that your way of trying to say he’s not that good?”

  “You want me to be honest?”

  “I find that’s the best way to get accurate information,” he drawled, wondering how long it was going to be before she slugged him again.

  “Okay, let’s just say that his team would be better off putting one of those orange traffic cones in net.”

  “Ouch. Not cool, Auntie.”

  “Sorry, but it’s true. He spends half the time flat on his face and the rest of the time flinching whenever the puck comes near him.”

  “Sounds to me like the kid doesn’t want to play that position. Are his parents forcing him to do it?”

  That Trey would have been able to relate to. Since the day they’d been born, their now deceased father had decided that Trey and his brothers would all someday play professional hockey. As a result, he was often brutal and harsh as he pushed his boys to succeed. Trey had only been lucky in the fact that he’d actually liked the sport.

  Of course Dad must have done something right since three out of his four sons actually did manage to go pro. If you could call playing for a bottom feeder team in a rundown arena professional.

  Amy shook her head. “No, my sister would never pressure Andy like that. The kid claims that he actually wants to play. Stranger yet, he has a near obsessive fan worship thing going for you.”

  Now that did shock Trey. “Really?”

  “Yes, he and my older brother, Wade, are both huge Trey fans.”

  Despite himself, Trey got a little thrill from finding out that he had actual followers—something he hadn’t had since he started fucking up so bad the NHL booted him. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”