Chapter 19

nineteen

JUST ONE MORE

T ate is acting weird.

It’s not just my paranoia either, though for most of the morning that is exactly what I thought it was. But he’s not only being weird with me or even me and Emery. He’s avoiding all of us.

At first, I thought he slept in and maybe had a hangover. He wasn’t plastered last night, but he definitely doesn’t drink often. It was an easy excuse to grab onto when everyone else was awake and mingling in the living room and kitchen while Emery and her dad cooked breakfast.

But morning slipped into afternoon, and still no sign of my best friend.

When he eventually did emerge from his hovel, he was quick to wave to us all, spot everyone playing cards, and made an excuse before taking off down the beach.

Okay, give the guy some time.

We’re a lot any day of the week. On vacation? Even more so.

I’d wonder if Mr. Moore regretted inviting the others, but he’s front and center in all the ridiculous games they’ve been making up all day. Apparently, the five of us aren’t nearly entertaining enough for him.

Emery and I have spent the entire day going back and forth from exchanging amused glances at her dad’s antics and heated glances when no one is looking.

It’s not an exaggeration to say last night was the single best night of my life. All day it has felt like clouds are under my feet, keeping me floating in a haze of bliss that sends my heart into overdrive every time I catch her eye.

I’ve had to spend a lot of time talking myself out of pulling her into a secluded dark corner and picking up where we left off last night. Each minute she’s not in my arms is a minute wasted in my opinion.

But now that we’ve wrapped up lunch, and Tate has yet to reappear, even Emery isn’t enough to distract me from my concern over what his deal might be.

If he knew about what happened last night there’s no way he would stay quiet. I’d probably already be buried six feet under, never to be seen again. I’ll never admit it aloud, but I was relieved when Emery wanted to keep this thing a secret.

I know it’s the wrong call. I know I’m fucking this all up. But the thought of Tate not accepting my feelings for her, of him saying what I already know and she’s too good for me. Too sweet, too kind, too lively for a guy like me, is enough to ruin me forever. It’s a hurt I don’t know I would ever get over.

I can’t lose either one. So even while knowing it’s wrong, I want to pretend for a little while longer.

The relief kept me from searching out Tate sooner, but enough is enough. I nod to Emery to let her know I’ll be back and she gives me a small smile of understanding. The others barely notice me leaving as Emery’s dad teaches them a new card game.

It doesn’t take me long to find Tate. In fact, I find him in the hammock right outside the front door as soon as I walk outside. He groans as soon as he sees me, covering his face with a pillow to avoid my stare.

Two can play that game.

I jump into the hammock with him, making the whole thing sway and Tate curse as I wiggle my way into a comfortable position at his side. Well, as comfortable as two hockey players can manage in a piece of fabric hung between two wooden beams without any real support.

“You’re squishing me,” Tate complains and I wiggle closer.

“Should have thought about that before ignoring me,” I taunt.

He throws the pillow, adjusting his own body to try and get comfortable but I’m pretty sure it’s an impossible task. “I haven’t been ignoring you,” he lies and I roll my eyes in response.

“You haven’t spoken a single word to a single one of us all day. I’m pretty sure you haven’t even eaten.”

Tate sighs, looking around us as if to make sure we’re the only two around. “Everyone else is still inside,” I assure him, worry starting to gnaw in my gut that this may be about something more than him being in a bad mood.

He chews on his lip the same way Emery does when she’s trying to work something out in her head. I give him a moment, the silence growing between us. “Want to go for a walk?” he finally asks, breaking the suddenly tense atmosphere.

“Sure,” I answer easily, trying to sit up, only to send the hammock swaying once more. “If we can get out of this thing,” I correct trying to haul myself out and failing. It only gets worse when Tate starts moving behind me, trying to climb out on his side.

The struggle ends with us both simultaneously falling out and rolling onto the ground as we accidentally flip the stupid contraption over. Our eyes meet and we both burst out laughing as we help each other up and brush ourselves off.

We’re going to be okay. No matter what is on his mind, we will be okay. Regardless of what happens between me and Em, I know Tate and I will be able to work through anything. It doesn’t ease the guilt, but it does lessen the anxiety. The guilt is the price I have to pay for needing a little more time.

We head towards the beach, walking along the sand and I wait for him to take the lead and spill whatever is on his mind. It takes several minutes, but the intensity surrounding him has lessened. Whatever is on his mind is something he needs to work through before he can put it into words.

“I always knew that if I ever said this, you’d be the first person I would tell,” he admits, breaking the silence after we’re far enough down the beach we wouldn’t be able to see the house if we turned around.

“That’s what best friends are,” I say. Tate was the only person I called when I was in the hospital after the fight with my teammates. He’s always been my person who helps me make decisions, hypes me up, and pulls me back from the ledge when I need it.

He laughs, nodding his head in agreement and turning towards the ocean before dropping his ass in the sand. “You’re right. I just don't know where to start.”

I shrug, sitting at his side. “At the beginning is probably our best bet, but you could start at the end or even the middle. Might be hard to follow along, but I’m sure I can figure it out.”

The corners of his lips turn up as he flips me off. “Always such a smart ass.”

“It’s part of my charm,” I counter.

He scoffs, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, his gaze drops to the sand and he begins to twirl his fingers through it as he starts talking. “I don’t really know where the beginning is. I guess I always recognized that I was different from other kids, even when we were young. I just didn’t comprehend in what ways.”

Alright, alright. We’re getting somewhere. Could go in a few directions still, but I am prepared to support my best friend through anything.

“A part of me knew a while ago, but I wasn’t ready to confront it. To accept what it could mean for my life and future. How things could change,” he continues and then stops, taking deep breaths.

I have a feeling I know in which direction this is going. “And now you are?” I ask when the silence stretches between us.

“I don’t know,” he admits and the anguish in his voice nearly breaks me.

I don’t hesitate to wrap my arm around his shoulders and he leans against me, burying his face as tears break free.

“Tate, you have to know I’m here for you no matter what. Nothing you can say would ever change our friendship.”

“I know,” he says, his whole body shuddering as he tries to get his emotions under control. “It’s just… I guess it’s harder to say the words aloud than I thought it would be.”

Something tells me to give him a few moments, to be silent and be here, and let him process with my support. It feels vital he be the one to speak the words, for him to choose to tell me, even though I’m pretty sure I already know what he’s going to say.

Tate takes a deep breath, lifting his shoulders back and sitting up straighter to meet my eyes. That’s my best friend. He holds my gaze for a moment and I hold my breath, imploring him to speak it into existence. To not only accept it, but take the first step to embracing this part of his identity.

“Xander, I’m gay.”

Yupp, I figured that out, buddy.

I grin, clapping my hand on his shoulder and his slight frown turns into his own smile and he laughs, beaming at me. “I’m gay,” he repeats.

“Fuck yeah, you are,” I cheer.

He snorts and shakes his head, color draining from his face as his anxiety rears its ugly head. “Holy fuck, I’m gay.”

I chuckle, squeezing his shoulder. “You know I’ve got your back. Take everything one step at a time.”

He looks out at the ocean, breathing as the waves crash. “One step at a time,” he repeats. “I kept trying to deny it,” he admits, turning his attention back to me. “There’s only ever been a handful of openly gay athletes in pro sports, and the least of all in hockey.”

The way I wish I could deny that glaring truth, but unfortunately he’s right. The world may be headed in the right direction, but it’s far from perfect.

“But last night,” he continues before trailing off and it hits me like a ten pound bag of bricks.

“The kiss,” I recall and he smirks.

“The kiss,” he echoes, a wry grin on his face. “I’ve never felt that from a kiss.”

I tilt my head in acknowledgement. “It did look like a pretty hot kiss.”

He bursts out laughing, his face turning red as he fans his cheeks in an attempt to cool down and I waggle my brows at him. Tate smacks my chest and I gasp. “But if you brought me out here to confess you’re actually in love with me, things are gonna get pretty awkward pretty fast,” I joke. It’s a different blonde-haired, blue-eyed Moore that’s stolen my heart and sanity.

“Oh fuck off, you’re not my type. ”

Interesting. “Does that mean you have a type?” I ask.

He shrugs my arm off him, standing back to his feet and stretching his arms over his head. “I’m just figuring this out,” he points out. “I don’t think I’m ready for that conversation yet.”

I climb to my feet and we start heading back towards the house. “Fair enough.”

I look over my shoulder while standing over Colby and Emery. “Why am I being dragged into this?” I hiss into Emery’s ear as soon as she stands up, a bucket full of sand and sand crabs in her hands.

She winks at me and grins. “Because you have to always be on my side now,” she whispers and fuck if that doesn’t seal the deal that I’m a part of this now. “And we needed someone to watch our backs,” she adds.

Colby stands and brushes sand off her legs. “Are we sure this is a good idea, Em?” She seems hesitant, but her face lights up in amusement.

Emery laughs. “It’s a great idea, Cece,” she assures Colby. “I already have so many jokes planned.”

Colby laughs, shaking her head, but doesn’t actually argue. She follows Emery back to the house, her own bucket in hand.

“How are you getting those buckets through the house and into their rooms without them noticing?” I ask what seems like an obvious flaw in their plans. Everyone was in the living room when we first walked out to the beach.

The two trade conspiratorial looks and I remind myself to never mess with this pair. They’re absolute menaces.

“We’ve got a plan for that,” Emery shares .

“Of course you do.”

Guess I’ll follow their lead then. I’m just here to be bossed around.

Emery leads us back into the house and everyone turns their heads to look at us, immediately their eyes dropping to the buckets in the girls’ hands.

“What’s that?” Emery’s dad asks them and Emery nudges Colby.

She bites her lips but picks out a couple seashells from her bucket to show the room. “We found seashells to make necklaces.”

Zac and Wilder, who were staring Emery down with suspicion, relax when Colby gives the answer. Oh my god. That’s why she made her be the one to say something. Her mind is starting to scare me.

“Cute,” Isla exclaims, hopping up to go look at the shells and the sand buckets. When neither of the girls react to her coming to look, I start to look at all three of them suspiciously. “Oh, I like this one,” she continues, picking up one of the few shells Emery has in her bucket of destruction.

“We can make you a necklace with it, if you’d like?” Emery offers, and something about it feels way too scripted, though no one else seems to catch on.

Torryn lifts her head from Baylor’s shoulder, looking back at us. “I want one too.”

Emery beams at her and Torryn winks where none of the guys can see her. “We can all have matching ones.”

Her dad grins at them, looking between all the girls and I get the impression this is exactly what he was hoping for by inviting Torryn and Isla on the trip. “That’ll be really sweet.”

It takes everything in me not to snort because I know these women are being anything but sweet right now. They’re being diabolical .

“The guys were just telling us about a restaurant in town. Do you guys want to go grab lunch and do some shopping?” Isla asks and Emery struggles to keep a straight face as she trades looks with Colby.

“We need to shower,” she answers, looking down where sand is still stuck to her legs.

“But we can meet you there,” Colby adds, picking up for Emery seamlessly.

I internally sigh, seeing where I come into this. “You guys go ahead and grab a table, and I’ll drive the girls once we’re ready.” At least I know I can take Zac and Wilder in a fight because they will absolutely be trying to come for me when they realize I was a part of this.

“You sure?” Tate asks, getting up from the couch. At least after our talk, he rejoined the group and went back to his normal fretting about everyone else. I can’t say he’s relaxed since I’m pretty sure he’s never known a day of peace in his life. He may not even know the definition.

I nod, not feeling the need to say anything more.

Wilder stands. “I’ll stay with Colby.”

Oh, curve ball. I arch a brow at Emery. Were they prepared for this? She still seems nonplussed by the entire thing.

Colby’s face begins to heat and her body tenses as she sighs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Wilder. I’ll be fine without a bodyguard.” Colby can’t quite look Wilder in the eye when she says it.

Emery definitely told her to say that. Diabolical.

There’s a little more protests, but with a little mocking from Torryn and gentle nudging from Isla, everyone heads into town, leaving Emery’s dad studying Colby, Emery, and I. “What are you up to?” he asks, his tone laced with equal amounts of amusement and suspicion .

Emery’s grin is evil and even Colby looks a little mischievous.

He puts his hands in the air. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” His eyes drop to the buckets before he shakes his head and turns to leave the living room. “I’ve got some work I need to catch up on.”

As soon as he leaves the room, Colby exhales dramatically as if she had been holding her breath. “Oh my god, Em. Why was that so nerve wracking?”

Emery and I both chuckle as we walk towards the guys’ rooms. “You did great,” she encourages. “Isla and Tor really helped sell it.”

Knew it. There was no way they were working together so flawlessly without having had a plan beforehand. I guess that’s female friendship for you. Having your back even when you want to do something ridiculous like put sand crabs in your brothers’ beds.

They do deserve it though. That seaweed was rank.

All three of us walk into Zac’s room first and Colby takes her bucket directly to his bed and throws the blanket back. She whispers to the sand crabs as she puts a couple in his bed, apologizing to them and promising she’ll put them back on the beach later today.

I follow Emery as she moves to his dresser and starts opening random drawers until she finds his boxers. What the fuck, Em?

She sprinkles sand inside each pair before folding them back up and closing the drawer.

“That’s just cruel,” I say as I observe her methodically going through each pair. Instinctually, I pull at my own shorts, knowing how uncomfortable it is when sand gets all up in your business.

Emery scoffs. “I don’t get even. ”

Why does that turn me on?

Colby has her back to us as she pulls the blanket back up over the piles of sand and sand crabs now in the center of Zac’s bed. I catch Emery’s hand and yank her to me, pressing my lips softly against hers while we have a quick moment.

She looks stunned as I step back and wink at her. It’s been harder than I thought it would be to have her so close and not be able to have her in my arms after spending hours last night wrapped up together. I remember the imprint of her body against mine far too well to not steal a kiss here and there.

Colby is the one who takes the lead to Wilder’s room and they repeat the same process, except Emery doesn’t have to fold his boxers as she puts them back in. Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.

“You know this is going to start a prank war, right?” It seems like someone should point it out and neither of them seem eager to face the consequences.

Emery clicks her tongue. “They’ll know their place.”

What gives her the confidence? Maybe it’s the perk of being the youngest daughter with two dickheads for older brothers.

We finish in Wilder’s room and the girls collect their shells–I think they might actually make necklaces with them now–and I help Emery dump the remaining sand back outside. Colby is already in the shower when we get back in, and I pull Emery into my arms.

“Want to come shower with me?”

Her eyes flare wide and her cheeks turn pink. I’ll never get tired of seeing that look on her face. I might be coming on too strong. All we did last night was share kisses, but how could I pass up this golden opportunity? The house practically to ourselves, we both need to take showers. The world is practically begging us to at this point.

Her hands rest against my chest and she rises on her tiptoes. I meet her halfway, picking her up and pressing her against the wall. Her legs wrap around me and I keep my hands on her ass to hold her up. She kisses me damn near senseless and comes up grinning.

“Is that a yes?” I ask, squeezing her ass in my hands.

But she shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “It was to soften the no.”

I groan but all it does is make her giggle. “That’s way too risky,” she argues. Well, as long as that’s the reason. I bury my face in her neck, alternating between kissing her softly, trailing my tongue over her pulse point, and gently nipping at her.

“You’re not gonna change my mind,” she murmurs with no real conviction in her words.

I hum against her skin, trailing more kisses along her neck. “I can still try.”

She lets me hold her for a few moments longer before we hear Colby drop something in the shower and Emery jumps in my arms. I smirk at her. “You good there?” She sighs, pressing on my shoulder and I put her back to her feet, still holding her in my arms. She buries her face in my chest, and when she looks back up at me, it’s with the cutest goddamn smile on her face.

“You look happy,” I whisper.

“I am happy,” she whispers back and never have I ever felt more accomplished in my life.

I kiss her nose. “Me too.” She scrunches her nose at me in response and I chuckle. I’ve never considered myself to be someone who doesn’t laugh a lot, but compared to how often Emery draws it out of me, I realize how little I really did before.

Brushing the hair off her face, I lean down to give her one more kiss while I have her here for myself. “I guess I’ll go shower all by lonesome. Cold and alone. ”

She snorts, shoving my chest to push me away from her. “How awful for you.”

“I know,” I faux whine. “If only I had someone who wanted to be with me.”

Emery pants me on the shoulder. “I’m walking away now,” she warns.

I yank her back to me just as she’s about to be out of arm’s reach. “One more,” I ask and it’s damn near a beg.

I love the dazed look that enters her eyes when I pull away. My thumb brushes over her swollen lips and I’ll never get tired of being able to draw this side of her out. “Enjoy your cold shower,” I tease, turning my back and heading to Tate’s room. It’ll be faster for me to shower there.

It doesn’t take too long before we’re leaving the house, sand and sand crabs in place for our return.

When we get to the bar and restaurant the waitress is standing at the side of the table where Wilder flirts with her and she slips him a piece of paper I have no doubt has her number on it. No one is even paying attention to the pair as she looks Wilder up and down and he gives her a cocky grin.

There’s a seat open next to him with Zac on the other side, but Colby hesitates to sit there and Emery’s hand brushes mine as she grabs Colby and heads towards the opposite end of the table where Isla and Torryn are sitting and I internally sigh as I force myself not to follow her and instead, find the open seat next to Tate.

One look and I wince before sitting at his side. He knows.

He totally knows.

He takes a long sip of his beer and waits for everyone’s attention to be elsewhere. “Sand crabs?” he asks and I have to stifle my snort.

“Among other things,” I admit, keeping my voice low as the waitress walks away and Wilder finally notices what Zac realized the second she made the decision not to sit with them.

“She really is a best friend stealer,” Wilder whines, but Zac doesn’t immediately agree this time, something about his expression almost seems sad. But it’s gone before I can really tell what it was.

Tate sighs, taking another sip as he watches the pair over the rim of his glass where they’re both glaring down at the end of the table. “This is going to be chaos.”

Probably. I tried to warn them, but whatever happens next is not my business. “How’d you know?” I ask.

His look says it all. “I know an organized scheme when I see one. Seashell necklaces?”

“To be fair, I do think they plan on making those.”

He laughs softly. “Of course they do. Thanks for keeping an eye on them and letting yourself be dragged into their shenanigans.”

The now familiar guilt gnaws at my stomach. “Don’t thank me for that,” I mutter. I’m doing a hell of a lot more than keeping my eye on Em, I’m keeping my hands on her too.