Chapter 3
When Jasper finally tries to confront him about it, the conversation quickly devolves into playful banter, which then turns into Dimitri pinning Jasper to their bed, making Jasper forget what he was going to say in the first place.
Dimitri isn't too upset about that.
Now, Jasper is lounging on the bed, tucked against Dimitri's bare side as Dimitri idly plays with his hair in one hand and scrolls through his phone with the other.
Jasper is well-fucked and boneless, clinging to Dimitri, utterly content with nothing more than the warmth of his husband's skin.
"Stingrays on a good win streak right now—but I bet that's not the hottest thing about that team everyone's talking about."
On-screen, three men from some random hockey podcast banter back and forth.
It's a clipped segment from a longer episode, posted to the podcast's main account, with
Hollander Still Making Headlines?
splashed across the screen in bold.
Murray had texted it to Dimitri earlier.
"We're talking about this again?"
one of them groans.
The third guy laughs.
"I swear, you're more obsessed than any teenage girl."
"You didn't even let me finish!"
"Because I don't have to!
You guys don't see it, but every time we mention the Stingrays, Walt brings up Hollander completely unprovoked.
Someone scores?
Donovan Voss.
Power play?
It's scary."
"Okay, but can we just pull up the picture one more time?
Just in case someone in the chat somehow missed it?"
"I'm pretty sure everyone in the world has seen Jasper Langford's abs!"
"Alright, fine—just once more for me.
Come on, man, look at that.
Swear he could've been a model in another life if hockey didn't work out.
Imagine being Jasper Langford: arguably the best player in the league, in a hockey power couple, and built like that.
I mean, I'm straight and happily married, but Hollander's got me feeling a certain type of way—"
"What are you watching?" Jasper finally asks, lifting his head from where it's been tucked against Dimitri's arm.
"Just some hockey clip," Dimitri says dismissively.
He doesn't scroll away, instead reading the comments.
"That doesn't sound like sportscasters."
"It is just a podcast."
Jasper makes a face.
He likes podcasts—liked them, anyway, before he'd stopped listening for the sake of his own mental health.
He'd assumed Dimitri had done the same.
Between the Pipes
Dimitri scrunches his nose.
"No.
Not that awful show."
"I thought you liked that one because they also hate Reed Callahan," Jasper says.
"Didn't you send them submissions just so you could listen to them trash him?"
"Beside the point."
"I heard what they were saying," Jasper continues, sitting up and swinging a leg over Dimitri's hips, straddling him.
He plucks the phone from Dimitri's hand, forcing him to look up.
"You didn't fuck
all
the sense out of me."
Dimitri sighs, letting his head fall back against the pillow.
He lets Jasper look at his phone, his dark eyebrows knitting together once he sees what's on his screen.
"You have ClipLoop?" asks Jasper.
"Murray sent them to me," Dimitri says.
He keeps his eyes on the ceiling.
Even though Murray isn't solely in charge of social media anymore, he insists his doomscrolling is relevant—something about tracking how the public views the Thornwood Stingrays.
"I have a burner account."
Jasper pauses.
"A burner account."
"You?"
Jasper exhales a laugh despite himself.
"Did Murray teach you that word?"
Dimitri hums noncommittally.
His hands stay at Jasper's waist, thumbs digging in just enough to remind himself that Jasper is there.
The possessive urge sits ugly and hot in his chest, unwelcome and embarrassing.
He doesn't like it.
He doesn't like that strangers can look at Jasper and talk about him like that, like he's public property, like they're entitled to want him.
"So what?" Jasper says after a moment, head tilting.
"You jealous?"
Dimitri snorts.
"Of what?"
"Obviously of everyone losing their minds over me."
Dimitri freezes, heat rushing to his cheeks.
His tongue twists, words tripping over each other as they try to get out.
"It is not that—"
But Jasper laughs.
"Oh, I know," Jasper says with a wide grin, pinching his sides playfully.
"You're just not used to
not
being the hot one."
Dimitri almost laughs again.
Almost.
Because Jasper isn't wrong—not about the dynamic, anyway.
Dimitri has always been the one people noticed first.
Loud.
Charming.
Reckless.
Jasper had liked that.
He'd liked being slightly to the side of it all, tucked into Dimitri's orbit, uninterested in the attention.
It would be easier if that were the truth now.
No—he
is
jealous of everyone losing their minds over Jasper.
But only because Jasper is his.
"Tragic," Dimitri says instead, dryly.
"My legacy, overthrown by a pair of underwear."
Jasper smiles, visibly relieved, taking Dimitri's lie easily.
"I thought you supported my modeling career."
"I assumed it continue to stay tasteful.
Like watches.
Or suits.
Now you are doing
actual
model shit."
Jasper laughs, crinkles creasing around his eyes.
"You know I don't care about any of that, right?"
"I know."
That's the problem.