22. Quinn

CHAPTER 22

Quinn Griffin had spent many of his Saturday nights on Hunter's couch. This was the first Saturday night on the nice couch Hunter had bought when he'd moved in. It was December. He'd wasted a lot of time this year, but he was determined to make it up.

"Let's go skating," Quinn said. He may not have caught the hockey bug like the rest of his family, but he'd always loved to ice-skate. During Hunter's first Christmas with the Griffins, he'd gotten his own pair of ice skates as a welcome-to-the-family gift, and he was required to love skating too.

"That sounds good. Maybe I'll slip and crack my head open on the ice."

"That's not allowed."

"I can't believe that I'm spending my entire weekend dreading work on Monday."

"That's a bad feeling. I know it well. Can you just get laid off? That fixed it for me."

Hunter gave him a smile and shoved his shoulder against Quinn's. "I don't have a side gig like you do to lean on. We've got a mortgage to pay."

"We'll go skating, and get hot cocoa, and for forty minutes you won't think about your little terrors."

"Fine."

"Go see if Jon wants to come," Quinn said, and Hunter slipped into the second bedroom where Jon was playing video games. While he asked, Quinn sent Weston a text. Weston was in a movie with Sienna, but he let him know what he was up to and asked if Weston knew how to skate. If not, he'd have to figure it out before Quinn's parents came in January. Usually they skated a lot around Christmas, but his folks were going to Vancouver for Christmas, since they saw Syd for Thanksgiving. They would celebrate in Minneapolis belatedly in January.

"Jon is going to stay online with his boys. They've been working on…some goal in their game for weeks. Honestly, I have no idea, but I guess tonight is The Night. Please don't ask me questions about it, even though he just told me."

Quinn laughed. Neither of them played the same kinds of games that Jon and his friends played, but it was good to have some separate hobbies.

They bundled up and grabbed their skates, then walked the three blocks to the neighborhood rink. It was blessedly empty. It was nearly nine, and pitch black and nippy. There were lights up around the ice that would shut off at ten, and they would be plenty cold by then. They found a bench to tie their skates, and Quinn wasted no time rocketing out onto the ice. He had always had ice skates, and when he'd quit playing goalie, he'd gone back to standard skates. He knew his parents and Jon always wore their goalie skates, even though they didn't play anymore, but Quinn had never put in the time to gain that preference. Plus, regular skates were easier to find secondhand.

If he could do it all over, and he understood that his sports option wasn't between being a hockey goalie or doing nothing at all, he would have asked to speed skate. He didn't want to play a game; he didn't want to do tricks and skate choreography. But he could skate in circles forever, hypnotized by the cut of his skates into the ice and the smooth, repetitive movement of his legs as he cut corners.

He took a couple laps, and when he slowed down to breathe, Hunter was standing by the door cutout, watching him. "I gotta get the rust off before I have to skate in front of Mike and Nancy again," he joked. Quinn's parents both had that you are my child and I'm going to teach you how to improve in this thing I am very good at because I love you instinct, so while the critique was well meaning, Hunter would still probably hear about his edges or some shit.

"Come on," Quinn said, holding his hand out to take Hunter's and drag him along. He wasn't the best skater, but he did just fine in a casual, recreational setting, and he had no issue keeping up as they lazily skated circles. The ice was pretty chopped up, but no neighborhood rink had perfect ice.

He urged Hunter on, chasing him and trying to get him to chase him back until they were both panting, and Hunter slid down to the ice, flopping onto his back at center ice. Quinn joined him, his thick winter hat providing a cushion for his head.

"How are you feeling other than your kids? Have you made any decisions about your dad?"

"Not a lot of decisions to make. I don't know if my mom knows, which is strange to think about. I'm not going to be the one to tell her. Jonny suggested setting up a session or two with a grief counselor since my feelings are so…weird."

"That's a great idea. I had no idea something like that could come out of my brother."

"Don't underestimate him. He's pretty fucking great."

"Is he the one?" The only way Quinn could talk about this was to joke about it. But he wanted to talk about it. He wanted to hear about the man his best friend loved.

"Is saying it out loud jinxing it?"

"Not at all."

"Then yeah. I can't imagine being with anyone else ever again. It's just right."

"I never had that with Lee. That certainty."

"Then why did you get married? Unless that's an asshole thing to ask."

"Nah. I got married because I thought I was feeling all the right feelings. It's hard to know what is missing if you've never had the missing pieces before. I wanted to make a life with him. I wanted it to become something perfect when it didn't start out that way. And the deeper into that relationship I got and the more I designed my life around him, it started to feel like anything other than getting married would mean I wasted all those years. I know I blame Lee for how it ended, but I wasn't the perfect happy husband to come home to. We were already struggling when he cheated."

"Quinny…"

"And then I met Weston."

"And fell in love?"

"Yeah. He's the most beautiful soul. The smartest, strongest, funniest person I've ever met. He literally left this morning and I'm debating going back up there right now. He makes me feel the things that were missing with Lee."

"Give him space. I'm so fucking happy you found your love, dude, and I'm sure I don't have any high ground on this issue, seeing as Jonny pretty much has already moved in, but don't rush it. I don't want to see you heartbroken again. It might kill me."

"I told him I love him and he didn't say it back."

Hunter reached across the ice to clumsily link their gloved pinkies. "You said you'd been texting him. He's still responding?"

"Yeah. He sent a selfie earlier."

"Send him one back."

Quinn made a goofy face for his camera, the ice behind his head, hat pulled over his ears, and sent it.

Weston sent back a string of heart emojis and confirmed he could skate.

Quinn: Aren't you in a movie?

Weston: It's just me and Sienna. Figured no one cares if I check my phone. It was worth it.

He showed Hunter. "Yeah. You haven't scared him off. Maybe he just needs time."

"I'll give him time," Quinn said, praying for patience. If he had learned anything this year, it was that things took time.