Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

LEMON

Four months later

I tell myself this isn’t going to be awkward at all. Why would it be? These are men that I’ve spent almost no time with since I’ve known them. I’ve never really been kind to them. I’ve tried harder since getting together with Hansley, but I still get jealous kind of easily.

At least I can admit that. I feel like admitting it is the first step to working through it.

Yes, I’ve grown and shit.

Still, this is going to be awkward. It’s one thing hanging out with them when Hansley’s around. Which doesn’t happen often, either, but it has on occasion. I think he wants me to make friends. He’s not pushing his friends on me, but he’s giving me the opportunity.

He offered to take me with him to the Frozen Four game, but I wanted him to have his entire focus on his team. Win or lose, they deserve all of Hansley right now. And when I’m there, I have a lot of his attention—which I love more than anything—but they need his undivided attention right now.

When I said I was just going to watch from home, he suggested Alka and Declan come over and they can help me understand the game. Honestly, I’ve tried to figure out what the hell is going on. I’ve even lowered myself to online research. I have a ‘hockey for dummies’ book stuffed under my couch so I can quickly reference it when I need to, but no one sees it.

I’m like, 60% there, I think. Hansley isn’t wrong when he suggested I should watch the game with someone who knows hockey because they can explain something I don’t understand in real time without me trying to explain it when asking him later.

Somehow, I agreed to have Declan and Alka over in Hansley’s absence to watch his game with me. I’m not even sure how that happened, but the next thing I know, I’m in a group chat with them and they’re making plans.

More times than I’ll admit, I’ve toyed with the idea of canceling. I can go watch the game with Sugar. Not that she knows a damn thing about hockey, but it won’t be awkward hanging out with my sister. This is going to be like three hours of fucking weird.

The knock on my door makes me flinch. Damn. My window of time to cancel has passed. Sighing in resignation, I drag my feet to the door and open it.

They’re smiling, both holding big bags. A waft of amazing food smells hit me like a wall.

“Hey, Lemon,” Alka says.

I smile. Pretty sure I manage one that isn’t also a scowl. Taking a few steps back, I let them in and shut the door behind them. When they’re done kicking off their shoes, I lead them inside and to the living room.

“Want to set up the food here?” Alka asks.

I look at their bags and nod. The living room is on one side of my kitchen, so the peninsula separating the two spaces is filled with drinks. That was my job when I told them I don’t cook. I refused to say I can’t cook because that can often lead to someone feeling the need to offer to teach me and no. I’m good, thanks.

Hansley bought me an all-in-one gadget that is the size of a microwave and has that technology but it also air fries, broils, rotisseries, toasts, and all sorts of shit. He bought me a book to go with it and it’s freaking awesome; I’ve been using that a lot. But I’m not sure that’s really considered cooking.

But anyway, I was in charge of drinks. I have beer, tea, wine, a few things for cocktails, soda, and one of those fancy coffee machines that makes all the things. We’re set on drinks. Oh, and water.

Standing over them, I watch as they unpack food container after food container. I don’t know what half this shit is, but fuck, does it smell good.

“I don’t take credit for most of this,” Alka admits. “Oscar loves to cook his family recipes. It’s best not to ask me what it is either. I have tried it all and it’s amazing. That’s as much information as I have.”

“And I can’t take credit for any of this,” Declan says. “It’s all Daddy Quin.”

It’s weird that he calls Quin Daddy. Hansley says it’s not in a kinky way, but because Quin takes care of them all. I still think it’s weird that he does so in front of other people. Though I suspect he only does it in front of people he’s comfortable with. Which kind of makes me feel good.

“Uh…” I glance at my drink station. Maybe I should have added some edible flowers or something. They went all out. “Want something to drink?”

“Yes,” Alka says and the two of them head to the counter to look at my spread.

“Damn, Frosty,” Declan says. “You know that there’s only three of us, right?”

I make a pointed look at the amount of food they brought, though neither of them are looking at me as I do. “You brought enough for my football team,” I counter.

Both men snort.

“I’ve seen your guys eat. I could probably feed three of them at most,” Alka argues.

My team is having a big viewing party today with tons of food and drink. Peyton invited me, but I’d already committed to this. Though it felt like a reasonable enough excuse to cancel. When I mentioned it to Hansley, he gave me an expectant look. He expected me to cancel, too.

It means a lot to him though. He wants me to get along with his friends, it’s important to him. When I realized that, I decided I would put in the effort. It’ll be fine.

While they’re both occupied at the drinks, I pull out my phone and take a quick picture of the food to send to Hansley. Then I type?—

Lemon Frost

Good luck.

And add a heart. He probably won’t get it until after but that’s okay. I just want him to know I’m thinking of him.

I’m always thinking of him.

We end up on the couch and somehow, I’m stuck between them. Not a huge deal, I have a large couch. It’s still a little weird. Maybe I can excuse myself to the restroom and come back to sit on the chair.

Declan hands me a plate. “These are sweet Thai chili wings. They’re not ridiculously hot because of the honey. It’s a slow burn. But in case you don’t like heat, Quin also made some parmesan ranch and they’re fantastic. Simon is obsessed with them, which is saying something since he loves heat.”

It took me a while to realize that Simon was a best friend. At first, I thought he was a kid, though the context sometimes made that an awkward assumption. Then there was Sage thrown out there sometimes and Declan’s twin Damon, who I’ve met once. That was a damn trip. With all the names Declan threw out there, I ended up breaking down and asking Hansley about it.

Big family is the impression I get. They live together. Other than that, Hansley shrugged. He didn’t have a lot more information than that since he’s never asked. That’s just what Declan offered.

Sitting between them, I have to wonder if he’d be willing to explain his living situation a little more fully. I mean, I kind of knew about it because of Quin always being around Zarek and Declan and people saying that they live together. The first time I heard ‘Daddy Quin,’ I had some fucking questions.

“Eat,” Declan tells me. “It’s best hot.”

“Or cold,” Alka adds, referring to the chilled dishes.

Leaning forward, I add a little bit of a bunch of shit onto my plate and then sit back. Pointing to the remote, Alka turns the television up loud enough so we can hear it, but not so loud that we can’t talk over it.

I glance out the window. My living room looks right at Hansley’s house, which is much more appealing these days. Next to mine, it’s the second-best yard in the neighborhood. It has a fresh paint job, new windows, and a new roof. Oh, and a new porch out front. The front may be beautiful, but it has nothing on the back. It’s a fucking oasis out there.

A smile touches my lips because one always does when I think about Hansley. There hasn’t been a night since he moved in that I’ve spent alone. Either he’s here or I’m there. We have keys to the other’s house and all the codes.

Part of me wants to just move in together. Then I never have to be away from him. But we’re already half living in each other’s homes. I have just as much of my wardrobe over there as I do here, and I know he has the same situation. I have duplicates of all my bathroom stuff there and he does here. We’re practically living together, but it’s between two houses.

I love every second of it.

“You have to eat the food you put on your plate,” Alka teases, and I blink out of my thoughts to look at him. He’s giving me a knowing look. Yes, I was caught staring at Hansley’s house and daydreaming. Whatever.

As the players come onto the ice, I make a concerted effort to watch the screen and eat the food. Honestly, it’s freaking good food. I’m pleasantly surprised, though not surprised at all that it’s good. Just that I like it. I’m a bit of a food snob without really meaning to be.

Right out of the gate, there’s a fight and when one of our players tries to skate off, the other team’s guy keeps trying to drag him back into the fight. A penalty is called. And I see the words power play a minute later.

Every time I think I have a handle on what some of these terms mean, something else happens that the commentators talk about in conjunction with what’s happening on the ice, and I end up confused.

“Explain what a power play is,” I request as I lick my fingers of parmesan ranch mixed with the sweet Thai chili sauce. I tried one of each.

“One team has more players than the other. Whichever team has the upper hand, it’s their advantage and it’s considered a power play. RDU has the power play right now because they’re at full strength and Denver is down by one,” Alka explains.

“Ah. Oh! Tell me what a hat trick is! Every time I think to ask, the conversation is already onto something else.”

“Really simple,” Alka says. “When a single player scores three goals in a single game.”

“Yeah, that is simple,” I admit. “Probably could have looked that one up.”

Alka laughs. I take another bite and look up at the screen just as Alka and Declan surge forward, and then awwww . Their sudden movement made me jump, but then I’m laughing. Weirdos. Not that I don’t understand that. I’m the same way with football. And secretly with hockey when I’m not distracted with food and alone.

The first period remains 0-0. The second period stays the same right up to the end when Denver scores. I’m pretty sure there should have been a penalty called, but I’m not sure what the penalty is.

I’m feeling fat from all the food, so I’m leaning back on the couch with my legs crossed as I stare at the ads with a frown. They still have an entire third period. It’s fine. They’re down by one, not eight.

The boys take turns refilling drinks and using the bathroom while I sip on my water and glare at the television. They're back far before the twenty-minute break is up.

It hasn’t been bad watching the game with them. We’ve had food and hockey to take away any truly awkward moments, since we can concentrate on that. But with another ten minutes before the intermission ends, I can feel the minutes get a little weirder as they stretch on.

“The way Hansley spoke, I thought you’d need more information about hockey than you do,” Declan says.

I shrug. “I guess I understand it a little more than I thought I did. Following the tiny puck is difficult though. Especially in person.”

Alka snorts. “It is. I’m constantly impressed that they know where it is most of the time.”

“What impresses me the most is when they pick up the puck with the end of the stick using gravity,” Declan says, shaking his head. “The first time I saw a goal like that I was off my feet and pointing like a crazy man. Did you see that? Did you see it?!”

I laugh and then quickly cover it up. Both men grin at me.

“You’re not half bad company when you’re not snapping and snarling at us,” Alka says.

“What a wonderful compliment that I almost believe,” I deadpan.

He laughs and gently shoves me. “I mean it. You’re a cool guy.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re not besties now.” The comment probably has more to do with my own insecurities than it is me not liking their company.

“I wouldn’t dream of thinking that,” Declan says.

“So, uh… About earlier. You know, years ago when I was maybe not respecting your boundaries? I’ve realized that perhaps it has taken me some time to learn what no means and well, you were just too hot and I couldn’t help myself. But it wasn’t right and….” I glance out the window to Hansley’s house, feeling my face heat. Fuck this; I’m not that mature. “Okay, good talk. We’re past that now. What just happened?” I point at the screen so they stop looking at me.

Neither stops looking at me, though I try like hell to ignore the way they’re both grinning. Why did they have to sit on either side of me? What kind of torture is this?

“You’re a cool guy, indeed,” Alka says as he turns back to the television and explains that RDU lost the puck—that’s what happened though he understood why I didn’t know that since the puck is so damn small.

Ugh.

I keep the pleased feeling to myself and hide the smile behind my straw, keeping my eyes trained on the television. So relieved that they like me. I need them to like me because they’re Hansley’s friends. While I’m not sure if I feel secure enough to call them my friends… I don’t hate their company either.

Not that I offer this information.

The third period is rough. Lots of penalties and lots of rough throws into the boards. Denver gets another goal and I’m practically screaming at the television in frustration. I’m not sure what I’m screaming, but I’m screaming.

RDU manages a goal almost right after, which has the three of us on our feet cheering loudly as if we’re there. The minutes tick down. We keep the puck in their zone, but make hardly any attempts at goal. They’re just always in the way. Always there.

My eyes flicker between the plays on the screen and the timer ticking down. I swear, I can feel each second like a pulse in my blood. Counting down. It feels almost threatening.

When the buzzer sounds, I almost want to cry. They can’t have lost! That’s not fair. Hansley deserves to win a lot more than fucking Denver does!

“Bullshit!” I shout, stomping my foot.

At least Alka and Declan are equally upset about it.

My thoughts go straight to Hansley. He’s going to be so sad. He worked so hard this season. His team did too. They should have won!