Two Man Advantage Read online



  Wells’s heart caught, stalling in his chest. “I mean…maybe? I don’t know. Though, I doubt the next one will be as eventful as the last one.”

  Matty chuckled. “Yeah, no other man will ever keep you from me. They try, I’ll kill them.”

  Wells’s face lit up as he held Matty’s jaw. “You asking?”

  “Nope,” he said, his eyes dancing with love and all things sweet and gooey. Wells hadn’t seen that look in Matty’s eyes before, and it made him feel all sorts of things. Good things. Great, even. “Just wondering.”

  “Ah. Well, the answer is yes, I do want to get married, if you do.”

  Wells shot Matty a grin, but when he went to pull back, Matty caught the back of his head, his lips lingering against his as he whispered, “I love you, Wells.”

  His heart was so full he almost couldn’t handle it.

  “I love you too.”

  Twenty-Three

  Matty felt someone staring at him.

  Since Wells had been the only one in his bed for the last three days, he was sure it was his boyfriend, so he just ignored it, trying to fall back into a deep slumber. He was tired; they had stayed out all night, hanging out and having dinner with Seth since he’d insisted on meeting Wells. It was great, and they got along perfectly. Wells was charming and sweet and everything that Matty loved about him, while Seth was open-minded and kind to Wells. It was great, though it hurt Matty that Laurence wasn’t even speaking to him. There was nothing to do about it, though, and if he started thinking about it now, he’d never fall fully back to sleep.

  But when he tried to do just that, he was jerked awake when he heard, “Matthew Robert Haverbrooke.”

  The voice was low, deep, and full of such fury that it didn’t take Matty long to know who was standing at the side of his bed. Blinking a few times, he widened his eyes as he met a pair of eyes that matched his own.

  His father’s.

  “Dad.”

  Wells moved beside him. “I mean, I’m down for Daddy play, but I’m dead tired. Go back to sleep, we can try that later.”

  Fuck. His dad’s eyes widened, his face turning such a dark red as he puffed up like a balloon that was about to pop. “So, it’s true?”

  Matty scrambled, pulling the blanket up his body as he smacked Wells’s back. “Dude, get up.”

  “I don’t want to,” Wells moaned, rolling over and trying to get ahold of Matty, but Matty was getting out of the bed, searching for clothes. “What the— Oh, fuck.”

  Scrambling alongside Matty, Wells was up, reaching for clothes as Benedict Haverbrooke sputtered with anger. “You have got to be fucking kidding me! Matthew, this is not okay!”

  “Dad, please,” Matty protested, his body shaking with fear as he threw on a shirt. “How did you even get in here?”

  “The door was unlocked,” he yelled as Wells just stared in horror. Had they been that drunk and horny last night?

  Wells looked back to Matty and shrugged. “Probably should have locked the bedroom door.”

  Matty glared as he turned back to his dad. “Dad, get out.”

  “No. You’re going to explain to me what the fuck is wrong with you! This isn’t how I raised you.”

  “Dad, please, Wells needs privacy.”

  “I don’t give two fucks about this faggot’s privacy. Did he force you into this?”

  Wells balked as he glared over at Benedict, but before he could say anything, Matty was yelling back, “Absolutely not. This is mutual.”

  “No! He’s making you.”

  “Dad, stop! He is not.”

  “He’s too old for you! He is forcing you into this!”

  Wells’s brows pulled in as Matty shook his head. “No. Fuck, stop. That’s not what this is at all.”

  “Watch your mouth, boy. I am your father, and you will stop this right now!”

  “Dad, we need to calm down. Let’s go into the kitchen so Wells can get dressed.”

  “No, you explain to me right now. Is this a phase? Is this a cry for help? Do you know what you are doing? You’re not only ruining your own damn name, but mine too! I am the commissioner of the NHL. I can’t have a fucking gay son. We are not made like that. We are men. Haverbrooke men are real men, not gays!”

  “I am a man!” Matty roared, his body shaking, and he could feel Wells watching him. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to tell you, I wanted to introduce you—”

  “Matthew, I don’t want to hear this. Why are you doing this? Are you crying for attention? What?”

  “Dad, I’ve been gay since I was a teenager.”

  But Benedict shook his head. “No, I didn’t raise a gay.”

  “It’s homosexual,” Wells muttered, rolling his eyes. “And you don’t raise them, it’s just who we are.”

  “Shut your fucking mouth,” he demanded, and Wells laughed.

  “Excuse me, sir, but I’m a grown-ass adult, and you don’t get to talk to either me or Matty like that.”

  “Matthew is my son!”

  “I don’t care if you’re God and he’s Jesus, you aren’t going to talk to him like that!”

  “Which is why you’ll burn in hell with the rest of your gay-loving fags, but not my son,” he sneered back. When Benedict looked back to Matty, his eyes were wild as he shook his head. But all Matty could do was stand there, his own eyes filling with tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He wanted to tell them face-to-face, to explain things, but that wasn’t what was happening. He was getting screamed at and ridiculed instead. “We will get you help, I promise. I’ll find the best therapist. I’m sure this is a phase.”

  Holding back his tears, Matty pleaded with his eyes for his father to understand. Surely, he understood. Matty hadn’t dated girls growing up. Yeah, he covered that with the excuse that he was too busy with hockey. But surely this man, his father, knew the truth. Deep down. Matty was banking on it, but his father’s eyes held nothing but disgust and wrath swirling in the turquoise depths. It was no use. Anything Matty said, his dad wouldn’t listen to. He knew that. He felt it in his heart, and the rejection cut bone-deep.

  Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “Dad, no. This is who I am.”

  “No!” he shouted, looking back to Wells. “I should beat the fuck out of you. You know I can ruin you!”

  “You can try,” Wells said, shrugging, standing beautifully naked, his eyes trained on Benedict’s. “But in the end, my family loves me, and Matty loves me.”

  Matty’s father actually gagged. “You do not love this man.”

  “I do,” Matty asserted. “Very much.”

  “Matthew!” he roared, causing Matty’s ears to ring. Benedict was livid, way worse than when Matty was ten and he smashed the headlight of his dad’s BMW with a puck. He’d actually thought he would die that day, but at the moment, that day was nothing compared to the fear that was shaking his core. Because if his father put his hands on Wells, Matty would kill him. And if he put his hands on Matty, he was pretty sure Wells would be the one killing his dad. “This isn’t who you are, son. Please, listen to me,” he pleaded, coming toe-to-toe with Matty. “Think of your career. You’ll never be looked at the same, everyone will make fun of you, they won’t take you seriously. Gays can’t play hockey—”

  “Actually, Commissioner, there is already a program to work with the LGBTQ community. You approved it, I’m sure,” Wells offered, and Matty wished he hadn’t said anything. You didn’t argue with his father. It didn’t work. He was always right, according to him.

  “I did that to make people happy, but in no way, shape, or form did that mean I wanted my son to be one of them,” he shot back, his gaze trained on Matty. “Son, this isn’t who you are. You are strong, you are talented, but being in a relationship, loving a man, that is disgusting and wrong.”

  “It is not,” Matty tried, a sob choking him as his father’s gaze blazed at him. “It’s who I am.”

  “No. No, it’s not, and I don’t suppor