From the East Coast to the West: a Walking on Broken Paths bonus scene
SPOILERS ABOUND!
This scene is best enjoyed after reading Walking on Broken Paths.
Word count: 2699 words
From the East Coast to the West
This scene takes place two months after the final chapter of Walking on Broken Paths, but before the epilogue.
There were no direct flights from Charlottetown to Vancouver. Jesse had looked. A lot. And when he hadn’t found anything, he’d considered chartering a flight to get Parker from the East Coast to the West.
An idea that Parker had laughed his ass off at when they’d been booking his flight in August. “I’m not that special, Jess. I don’t mind a layover.”
Jesse had wanted to argue that Parker was that special, but in the end, they’d found a flight that left Charlottetown at ungodly early o’clock, had an hour layover in Ottawa, and landed in Vancouver at 11:30 in the morning.
So now here Jesse stood, inside the Vancouver International Airport on a sunny Wednesday morning in October, waiting for Parker’s plane to land.
It had been a month since Jesse had started the drive back to Vancouver from Prince Edward Island, thus a month since he’d seen Parker. They talked every day—sometimes more than once—and Parker was organizing having his things shipped from his storage unit in Montreal to Vancouver, so Jesse knew he was coming.
But with each minute they were a whole country apart, the farther Jesse felt from Parker. It was beginning to feel like his summer on the island—and with Parker—had been a hazy blip in time.
His phone vibrated in his jeans’ pocket, and he dug it out, rearranging the ball cap on his head as he did so. As disguises went, it wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing. Biting his lip to hide a grin, he tapped on Parker’s text.
Just landed! See you soon.
A second message came in a few minutes later.
I’m off the plane!
Then, a few minutes after that:
At baggage claim. They just told us several flights came in at once, so it might be a while.
Jesse found a seat and plunked his ass onto it, people-watching as he waited. He perked up whenever the automatic doors slid open to reveal someone exiting baggage claim, then slumped back down again when Parker didn’t appear. There were couples, families, groups of friends, solo travellers, and about two dozen teenagers wearing Vancouver Sharks hoodies.
Since he had time to waste, Jesse looked them up. Cheerleaders. Cool.
He was checking his team’s practice schedule for next week when his phone rang in his hand, Parker’s name lighting up the screen.
“Hey. You still waiting for your bags?”
“No, I’m in Arrivals looking for you,” Parker said in his ear.
Jesse snapped his head up. He’d zeroed in on the doors every time they’d whooshed open. How the hell had he missed Parker exiting?
“It’s a madhouse out here,” Parker continued. “Where are you?”
Jesse rose and stood on his toes to see over everyone’s heads. “I’m standing by the windows next to the exit.”
Parker grunted. “’Kay. I’ve got to hang up—I need both hands for my bags—but I’ll find you.”
Cursing everything about air travel, Jesse went back into wait mode.
But then there was Parker, wearing faded jeans and an even more faded Montreal hockey hoodie, striding toward him with a determined look on his face and wheeling two hard-shell suitcases behind him. Parker was too busy navigating around other people to notice Jesse, but when he did, his face lit up, and the smile tugging his lips upward was one that Jesse wanted to see for the rest of his life.
Parker dropped his bags, speed-walked to him, and launched himself at him.
Jesse caught him with a laugh, lifting him off the ground. Parker’s backpack dug into his arms, but he didn’t care. Parker was here, finally, and—
“Shit.”
He nearly dropped Parker before racing for his suitcases. “Sorry,” he said to the security guard eyeing them as though they contained a bomb. “Those are ours.”
“My bad,” Parker said with a grin, all guileless and nonthreatening. “I was in too much of a hurry to see this guy—” He jerked a thumb at Jesse. “—and these were just getting in the way.”
The security guard—Jones, her name tag read—was not impressed. “You’re not supposed to leave your bags unattended.”
“Right, sorry,” Jesse repeated. He grabbed a handle in each hand and wheeled them aside. “Won’t happen again.”
He headed for the exit, Parker practically skipping next to him as Jesse led him to where he’d parked. He gave one of the suitcases a shove in Parker’s direction for Parker to take, all so he could have an arm free to swing around Parker’s shoulders and pull him close.
“Flight okay?”
“Mm,” was Parker’s only response as he stuck his nose in Jesse’s shoulder and inhaled deeply.
They got the bags into the trunk of Jesse’s SUV, then Jesse closed the trunk, leaned back against it, and nodded at Parker’s hoodie. “I’ll get you a new hoodie.”
Parker pulled on its strings. “I like this one.”
Grabbing the front of it, Jesse drew him closer. “No partner of mine can be seen wearing merch from a different team. It’s just not done.”
“I should get myself a Jesse Melnik jersey then?” Eyes alight with laughter, Parker pressed against him from groin to chest. Against Jesse’s lips, he whispered, “Brand myself with your name?”
Wow. Apparently, Jesse was a caveman because he liked that idea.
He closed the scant millimetre between them, taking Parker’s mouth with his. He tasted . . . well, kind of stale, frankly, given he’d been up for hours, but also like him. Like Parker.
Like everything Jesse had ever wanted, right here in his arms.
And suddenly that hazy blip of a summer was no longer so hazy.
Things would be different, of course. Their sunny summer on PEI had been slow and lazy, at least for the most part. But there’d be nothing slow and lazy about the next few months.
The seasons would change.
Jesse’s schedule was about to be flipped on its head—he had five games in the next ten days alone, including tonight’s home opener against Calgary, plus practices and other team commitments.
And Parker had to settle into a new city, find a new support network.
But in this second, it was just them—
And a car whizzing by with a honk, going too fast for a parking garage.
Untangling his fingers from Parker’s hair, Jesse tucked his face in Parker’s neck and held him. Christ. He never wanted to let him go.
Parker made a vague sound of approval. “Do you think they were honking at us?”
Letting out a short laugh, Jesse straightened and placed a tiny kiss on Parker’s mouth. “Who knows. Let me take you home?”
Parker’s smile was soft. “I’d like that.”
It took thirty-five minutes to get from the airport to Jesse’s place in Yaletown. They chatted on the way, hands entwined on Jesse’s thigh, though Parker began to flag twenty minutes into the drive, the long day no doubt catching up with him.
He perked up when Jesse let him into his condo on the tenth floor of an eighteen-floor building, breathing out a low “Wow” as he stepped out of the foyer and into the open-plan kitchen/living room. “This is nice, Jess.”
“Why do you sound surprised?” Jesse left the suitcases by the bedroom door. “You’ve seen it before.”
“On a video call. It’s different in person.” Parker shrugged out of his backpack and set it aside, his gaze bouncing from one thing to another.
Jesse looked around at the home he’d lived in for years and tried to see it through Parker’s eyes. The floor-to-ceiling windows opened up the space, making it appear larger than it actually was. The balcony overlooked the Cambie Street Bridge and False Creek. The kitchen was minuscule, but the living room was huge, and the glass-enclosed den made a cozy office.
“What do you think?” Jesse asked, coming up behind Parker where he stood at the windows. “Will it do?”
“It’s freaking adorable.”
“The ceilings are too low.”
Chuckling, Parker leaned back against him. “Well, if I had to find one flaw . . .”
Jesse kissed the juncture between his shoulder and neck, smiling against Parker’s skin when Parker shivered. “I got you a ticket to my game tonight.”
“I know,” Parker said, his voice strained.
“And we have a few options to occupy our time before I need to head to the arena.”
“Oh, do we?” Parker rotated in his arms. “And what might those be?”
“We could take a nap.”
Parker nibbled at Jesse’s jaw. “Or?”
“We could have some lunch.”
Parker’s hands swept down Jesse’s back to cup his ass. “Or?”
“I could help you unpack,” Jesse said, walking backward toward the bedroom and taking Parker with him.
Parker’s breath was a whisper against Jesse’s cheek. “Or?”
“I could take you on a tour of the building.”
Laughing, Parker shoved him back a step and pulled the hoodie and the T-shirt underneath off in one fell swoop, leaving him gloriously naked from the waist up. “Jess?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Take me to bed.”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
* * *
“Why do I find it so hot to watch my boyfriend play live?”
Parker didn’t expect a response to his question—mostly he was thinking out loud—but he got one anyway.
“Maybe because you know you’re the one who gets to go home with him?”
Parker held his hand out to Charlie for a fist bump. “True.”
Jesse hadn’t just gotten Parker a ticket to his game; he’d somehow managed to score him a private suite that he and Charlie Shore—the partner of one of Jesse’s teammates—had to themselves.
Jesse had told him all about Charlie. Years ago, when Jesse had still been deep in his grief and anger over Mikey’s suicide, Charlie had gotten the brunt of Jesse’s bullying. He was the baker for Jesse’s team, so, according to Jesse, the fact that he was always at the arena at the same time as Jesse made him easy pickings.
That, and the fact that he was small.
“There’s an air of innocence to Charlie, and every time I looked at him, he’d remind me of Mikey,” Jesse had told Parker. “Which just made me angrier, and of course, Charlie was a perfect target for that anger.”
Short and slim with dark blond hair and brown eyes, Parker could see why he’d reminded Jesse of Mikey, but in a different way than Gavin did. It was something in Charlie’s features and in the way he held himself.
Years after Jesse had apologized to Charlie, Charlie’s new partner, Blair Brawsiski, had been sent up to the NHL from Vancouver’s affiliate AHL team, and he and Jesse had immediately clicked.
“I thought he’d want to kick my ass,” Jesse had said to Parker. “But he was super chill.”
“Didn’t you say that Charlie forgave you?” Parker had pointed out. “If that’s the case, there wasn’t anything for Blair to kick your ass over.”
Now, Parker and Charlie enjoyed a chicken taco bar that served eight that had been prepared just for them, at Jesse’s expense, while they watched Vancouver score against Calgary.
Parker had never expected to have a sugar daddy. He couldn’t say he hated it.
The last month had been long. Without Jesse in Charlottetown, Parker had felt like he was floating aimlessly without a direction. Life had gone back to the way it had been before Jesse had shown up in PEI, and it hadn’t just been boring—it’d been soulless. Jesse had shaken up Parker’s routine—shaken Parker up—and going back to living without Jesse had been a bit of a mindfuck. Almost like the summer had never happened.
He’d started counting down the days until his arrival in Vancouver as soon as Jesse had left Charlottetown.
Parker had thought about Jesse’s suggestion about listing Dad’s house as an Airbnb while they weren’t using it, and although it had merit, that was a project for next year. He’d been too eager to get to Vancouver after the end of the tourist season, meaning he hadn’t had the time—or the emotional energy, to be honest—to go through Dad’s things, donate, sell, or store away what he could, and get the house ready for guests. So he’d shut the place up for the winter, gotten Dad’s ship into storage, packed his essentials, and moved west.
Parker had been to Vancouver before, when he’d worked for the Montreal Gazette, and he’d loved the city as a tourist. Now he was looking forward to discovering more about it as a resident.
“What’s your favourite thing about Vancouver?” Parker asked Charlie, who’d been born and raised here.
They chatted about Charlie’s favourite things about the city until the game ended while filling their bellies with chicken tacos, and when the game ended with a win for Vancouver, Charlie led Parker through the arena to the players’ exit. It was guarded, but the security guard on duty recognized Charlie on sight, and he found Parker’s name on a list of approved persons on his tablet.
There were a few other people waiting for their men to exit the locker room. Charlie introduced Parker, and while Parker was generally good with names and faces, he was still on PEI time and he’d been up since before dawn.
His vision was beginning to go hazy at the edges.
Then Jesse was there, wearing a navy-blue suit paired with a navy-blue tie and a white shirt, and fuck. Parker was suddenly awake again.
Charlie’s partner stood next to Jesse. Parker had met Blair before the game, and he was as friendly as Charlie and good-looking in a scruffy-jawed way. Nevertheless, Parker would take his bearded defenceman any day.
No offence to Charlie.
“Hey,” Parker said. “Congrats on the win.”
“Thanks.” Jesse pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then peered at him quizzically. “You okay?”
“Sure. Why?”
“You were swaying a second ago.”
Parker let out a tired laugh. “In an hour, I’ll have been awake for twenty-four hours. I’m feeling a little sleep-drunk.”
Charlie and Blair, deep in their own conversation, drifted toward the exit door, Blair with a wave over his shoulder.
“Hey, wait,” Jesse said. “Charlie, I brought you a snack.” He pulled two wrinkled snack-sized bags out of each pocket of his suit coat. “All Dressed chips or Ringolos?”
Charlie’s sigh was long-suffering. “How many times do I need to tell you that you don’t have to keep giving me things?”
Parker’s gaze swung between them. What on earth was happening?
“Chips or Ringolos?” Jesse repeated.
“I had, like, a thousand tacos,” Charlie said. “I’m not hungry.”
Jesse thrust the bag of chips in his direction. “I’m guessing the chips.”
Charlie rolled his eyes, but he let out a huff of a laugh as he snatched the bag from Jesse’s hand. “Thank you. Good night, guys.”
“What did I miss?” Parker asked as Charlie and Blair headed out.
“After I first apologized to Charlie, I’d buy him snacks when we were here at the same time. A smoothie, a bagel from the place down the street. Little things, you know?” Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets. “He said the apology was enough, but it didn’t feel like it. So the snacks were my lame-ass way of making amends. I still do it because it annoys him.”
Parker snorted a laugh and leaned into him.
“These are for you.” Jesse shook the bag of Ringolos. “I knew Charlie would prefer the chips.”
“I love Ringolos.”
“I know. You used to wear them on your fingers as rings before eating them when we were kids.”
Parker blinked. “You remember that?”
“How is that even a question?” Jesse muttered, which Parker didn’t know what to make of.
He didn’t get a chance to think more about it, because Jesse steered him toward the exit doors and said, “Let me take you home,” in an echo of this morning.
Now, like then, the word home, as it pertained to their home, made Parker’s stomach flip.
And home sounded pretty damn perfect.
* * *
THE END
Copyright 2025 Amy Aislin. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Don’t forget to check out my other books!