Chapter 40 - Hunter

S o, last night really happened.

It wasn't a dream.

Because here I am, my body wrapped around Ollie, my face buried in the crook of his neck. Our legs are somehow tangled as I cuddle him from behind, and he's breathing deeply, not yet awake. But of course, he wouldn't be; it's five in the morning. My alarm continues to blare from my bedroom, and I try to untangle myself from Ollie's grasp to no avail. He stirs, waking up, and groans.

"Five more minutes." He whispers, grabbing onto my arm and pulling me back into him.

I kiss his neck softly and inhale his vanilla cupcake scent. "I can't, baby. I have to go to practice. If I'm late, I'm fucked."

"Nooooo."

"I'll see you soon, okay?" I smile, and he turns around and kisses me softly. "Just two hours."

"Two hours too long," he grumbles, and I roll my eyes even though I love that he's clingy right now. It reminds me of our nights together, and now that we're a couple—officially—we can have so many more. Without limitations. Without being afraid of getting caught.

"Love you." I kiss his cheek, and I feel him smile under my lips. "Be right back, pretty boy."

"I love you!" he yells after me as I exit his room.

Ollie was right. For the longest time, it would've pained me to say that. I would've hated to admit it, but now I can logically think about where he was coming from. I really did have a hard time accepting myself and my sexuality, and I also didn't hate him because of my mom. That much was clear when I couldn't stay away from him.

I hated myself. I hated myself for not being able to save her. For not taking her place in that car. What I felt was guilt. It's only logical that I'd have those feelings under the circumstances. Only now can I see it for what it is and move on from it. My mom wouldn't have wanted me to live like this, drowning in the pain of her death. I have to learn to forgive myself and move on. However, even if it will always hurt, no matter what I do, I can't keep blaming him. Not if I want this to work out between us. We were equally guilty, and I can't change it now.

Never in a million years would I have imagined the conversation that transpired between Ollie and me last night. The fight, the heart-to-heart. I told him I loved him, and that's been a long time coming. I'm in love with him, no matter what I've tried to tell myself.

I smile as I lace my skates in the locker room. The guys are all sitting around doing the same, and I take a deep breath as my hands begin to shake. Connor and I make eye contact, and I can feel the blood draining from my face. He furrows his brows as he watches me, and right before he can ask me what's wrong, I blurt out?—

"I'm dating Ollie." His eyebrows rise as I take another deep breath. "I'm demi."

And it's true, seeing as it has nothing to do with it being a guy or a girl. I'm not into anyone else. Just into Ollie. And while that used to piss me off, now it just makes sense. I've been obsessed with him for years. What the hell made me think I could just move on from him?

Connor grins and shakes his head. "Can't say I didn't see that one coming." I scowl, and he continues, "Oh, come on, Hunter. You're not that slick. You were so fucking jealous?—"

"I get it, I get it." I roll my eyes. "You were right. You happy?"

He grins. "I'm happy for you ." He finishes lacing up his skates and straightens up on the bench. "So what now? You coming out?"

I nod.

"Hey everyone!" I yell, trying to get their attention, as Connor and I both stand side by side. The entire team turns to look at us, and I beam. "I have a boyfriend. Yeah, I like guys. Anyone have a problem with that?"

"Nah," Connor says from my side, and I look at him with raised brows. "Nobody has a problem with it. Am I right?"

The guys are wide-eyed but shake their heads. No one is ready to fuck around with us. I should've known better. We're a team, and I bet they wouldn't dare come after me. Why did I always doubt myself? Why did I wait so damn long to do this for myself? Fuck, I'm such an idiot.

"It's all good, man," Grayson says. "We kinda figured it out after your fight with Dylan."

"That obvious, huh?" I chuckle.

"Boyfriend?" Dylan coughs. "What the fuck, since when?"

"None of your business, Dylan." I grin. "Jealous?"

"You're gay, and you didn't tell me?" Alex asks, his blue eyes narrowing, his blond eyebrows furrowing. We're not even that close, so I'm not sure why he needs an explanation.

"I'm not gay." I shrug, trying my best to appear nonchalant even though my heart is pounding. There's a different word for this. "I'm demi." I did it . I finally gave myself a label, and I didn't die.

Dylan comes up to me, and my hands ball into fists. I prepare myself to punch him in the face since I just know he's going to be a smartass. "It's all good, man," he says with a smirk. "For what it's worth, I didn't know he was yours. Sorry about that."

I frown, unsure if he's being genuine with his apology. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah." He nods. "Plus, I kinda have the hots for James."

"Murdock?" I sputter.

Dylan chuckles, and I grin because I did not see that one coming. "Murdock," he affirms. "I'm gonna go after him."

"Oh, shit." I laugh. "He's got no chance."

"None." He shrugs. "I want him, I'll have him."

I nod, even if I don't want to admit it; Dylan is really attractive with his dark hair and blue eyes. He's rugged. Nothing delicate about him. I bet James would be into that.

"Go for it, man."

My coach taps my arm from behind, and I get on the ice. It's three on three right now, and we are looking to score the overtime goal. Boston is playing great defense, and we just can't fucking score on them anymore. I skate up to my team, and we're laid out in a formation, passing to each other back and forth like we're playing Tic-Tac-Toe. Boston doesn't hesitate; they're not even slightly shaken up by us, and Connor's attempt to score is deflected by one of the defensemen's sticks on the opposite team. Jacob slaps the puck on the rebound, just for it to be blocked by the goaltender. Just as we're diving for the puck again, Boston clears it to our side of the rink.

The most magical thing happens as we're dispersing to go after the puck. Instead of it being iced, Grayson rears back and gives us the most perfect wrist shot I've ever seen in my entire life, making it fly past everyone and toward Boston's net. The goalie isn't ready for him, and Grayson scores.

A fucking goalie goal.

Grayson scored a goalie goal.

Holy fucking shit.

Silence descends over us as people put two and two together, working to figure out what the hell just happened. But when they do, the crowd erupts in cheers. Boston is cheering for our goalie because even though they just lost, they also just witnessed history.

Skating faster, we reach Grayson and all take him into a group hug, shaking him and slapping at his helmet. "Holy fuck!" I yell. "You fucking badass!"

Grayson laughs, shaking his head but letting everyone praise him.

The rest of the team joins us, and I step back, looking for the coach. There's a massive smile on his face for once, and it makes me happy for Grayson. He's definitely getting the hat tonight for being the star of the show.

Skating back to the bench, the coach nods toward the stands, where I assume the scouts are. "Go get changed," he tells me. "Then I'll have someone come talk to you."

"Thanks, Coach."

Nerves dance in my stomach as I go to the locker room and change, trying to envision what my life would be like if I got drafted. It would be a dream come true. Seeing Ollie's face when I give him the news, having him by my side when I sign, and him in the stands at my first rookie game…that's what my dreams are made of.

Can I have it all? Can I have hockey and him, too?

I don't fucking know.

Two hours later, I'm heading back to the hotel room, where Connor is waiting for me to discuss this. Coach sent three scouts to talk to me, and they all waited around patiently. It's funny how they were my top three picks, and I'd be happy if any of them took a chance on me.

The Hurricanes are perfect since I already live here in Raleigh, and I'd have to make no changes. Ollie is here, our dad is here, our lives are here. But Boston and New York are huge for the art scene, and I've considered them just for him.

Tapping the key card to the reader, the door buzzes open. The room is quiet, and when I enter and search for Connor, I realize he's not here yet. He must be downstairs or out with the guys celebrating the big win. The only other one talking to scouts tonight was Grayson—and rightfully so.

I sit on the bed and pull out my phone, my stomach squeezing in on itself when I realize I have no calls or messages from Ollie. I don't know why I'm expecting him to call in the first place—we don't do this. But we're boyfriends now, so it stings a little bit.

Instead of playing it cool as I should, however, I end up dialing his number.

"Hello?" He answers after five rings. Just as I thought it was going to go to voicemail. "Hunt?"

"What are you up to?" I chew on my bottom lip nervously.

"Just home, about to go to bed."

I sigh in relief but don't know why I expected anything different. He's never given me a reason to think he'd be out at this time of night. "I talked to scouts today," I blurt out, seeing as I need to say it.

"Oh, yeah?" He's suddenly excited. "That's amazing! Who was it?"

I go into detail about it, telling him I hope it's Boston or New York so he can dedicate his time to selling his art. He's quiet for a moment.

"You'd do that for me?" he asks with a small voice. It stings that he'd doubt that, but then again, I remind myself I've been an asshole to him, and of course, he'd have doubts.

"I'd do anything for you."

Ollie sucks in a sharp breath. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "That would be incredible, Hunt."

"One year, Ollie." I grin, excitement taking over my body. I'm practically vibrating. "You and me in New York." I don't know why I say New York and not Boston or North Carolina, although something feels right about it.

"One year, baby." He breathes. "You and me. Sober."

"I believe in you," I tell him. "You're strong, Ollie. You can do this. You can beat this."

"Thank you for believing in me."

"Well, I'll let you go to bed. It's getting late." It's Friday night, but he sounds so tired. I also just want to sit here and daydream about our life together. He and I in one year. He'll be sober, and he'll come to all my games. He'll travel with me. He'll sell his art. Then maybe one day we can have the house and the kids. Wait, what ? "I just wanted to hear your voice."

"I miss you," he says, making me grin like a fool.

"I miss you too, Ollie." I'm about to say good night when I remember what I really wanted to tell him. "Wait for me tomorrow. I'll be home at night, and I want you to wait for me to come back to you." I don't know why that's so important to me, but I need it.

"Hunt—"

"Please." I want you. I need you. "For me?"

"I'll wait." I can imagine the smile tipping up his lips and I smile too.

"Good night."

"Good night, Hunter."