9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Shane

Sixteen years old

"Did you know that female flamingos lose their pink color with every baby they have?" Eli babbled, popping a French fry into his mouth.

"Is that so?" I replied, intrigued by his random fact.

"Yeah! They say it's because of how much of a toll being a mother takes on them. They lose their color. It’s kind of sad, but so beautiful," he mused between bites, and I couldn't help but admire the way his mind worked.

"Like, beautiful because it's a real embodiment of the beauty of being a mom, and then really sad that she loses her luster because of how much she gives, you know?"

"You've thought a lot about this," I observed, popping a fry into my own mouth and trying not to smirk at how damn adorable he was.

"Well...yeah," he admitted, his enthusiasm undimmed. "And did you know that pigeons were bred for the sole purpose of being messengers? And that they're the one domesticated animal we have no use for, so we've neglected them and now they have no purpose, no home, and they're just permanently depressed. It's sad."

Uh-oh, here comes the downward spiral. Eli had this thing where he got a little too into fun facts—which weren’t always that fun.

"Okay, so what’s another exciting fact then?" I interjected, hoping to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Oh, did you see the elephant seal in Tasmania that keeps causing problems? I'll find a video; just wait!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with each video he scrolled through of the mischievous creature.

Though I wasn’t watching the seal. I was watching Eli, and couldn’t help but hope that he'd never change.

Present—October

Time seemed to have no mercy. Every night that passed was a war, body fighting exhaustion only to see Eli’s shattered expression each time I closed my eyes. Every morning I found my fingers lifted over the call button, yearning just to hear his voice, to get any sign that he was alright. But trapped in an endless tumble of longing and regret, I never followed through.

Attempting to distract myself, I focused on the task at hand, only to be jolted back to reality by Joe's sharp voice.

“Morrison! How many times do I have to tell you? Don't check so high! You're practically handing penalties a gold-plated invitation!”

I shook off the heavy blanket of thought. My assistant coach, Joe Carter, shot me a glare that spoke a thousand words. I couldn't blame him. I'd been a shadow of myself lately, irritable and distant. And it wasn’t hard to pinpoint why: it had been months since I’d been intimate with anyone. The memory of Eli’s broken heart was as good as an ice bath every morning.

“Are you alright there, Coach?” Joe's voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I bit back the retort that threatened to spill from my lips.

I'd never been one to snap at others, but lately it seemed like I was a hair trigger away from exploding.

“Sorry, Joe,” I muttered, lacking any convincing excuse. Most days I could mask it, but something about that day made me feel like I was going to break.

“What's eating at you?”

I hesitated. It wasn't the most appropriate topic for a workplace conversation, but something about Joe's concerned gaze had my walls crumbling.

With a sigh, I glanced out at the ice, where the kids were engaged in their scrimmage. “It's complicated,” was all I could manage. Joe knew I was gay, and his acceptance meant more to me than he'd ever know. “The person I… care about–he's straight. I pushed him away, and he got hurt.”

The conversation lulled as practice ended and we dismissed the kids. Joe turned to me. “Want my advice?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Date,” he said simply. “Like seriously go out and date men. Don’t just fuck. Find someone who piques your interest. You may find someone who sparks something in you. Once you’ve moved on, then—and only then—extend an olive branch. Because if you send one now, you'll only fall down that hill all over again.”

Joe's words hit me like a punch in the gut. He was right, painfully so. I needed to move on, but the simple thought of dating, made me feel sick.

I lowered my gaze, letting his advice sink in. It was exactly what I hoped for when I made the move to Canada, but Eli’s surprise visit veered me off track.

“Hear me out,” Joe continued, softening his tone. “I have a friend. I don't know if he's your type, but he's genuinely a good guy. And coming from a straight man believe me when I say he’s attractive. One date, that's all I ask.”

My stomach churned, body protesting the mere through of it, but I found myself nodding anyway. “Okay, fine. Just keep in mind, I may not be emotionally available for him.”

Joe offered a reassuring pat on my shoulder. “Just give him a chance. I could see you two really getting along.”

I stood in front of the mirror, fussing with my clothes for what felt like the hundredth time. I'd never been on a real date before, so the nerves were kicking in big time.

“You look great, Shane,” Cal said, lounging on my bed with that trademark grin of his.

“Well, you picked out the outfit, so you better hope so,” I replied, forcing a smirk of my own.

Cal's grin widened into a full smile. “Hey, if figure skating doesn't pan out, I might have a future as a stylist.”

I chuckled, remembering his latest competition. “Dude, figure skating's definitely working out for you. You killed it out there.”

Cal tried to remain stoic, but the slight flicker of sadness in his eyes wasn’t lost on me. “You're the only one who seems to think so.”

I swallowed my sigh. Cal had a big heart, but sometimes it got him into trouble—especially when it came to people who didn't appreciate him.

“It's their loss, man,” I said, trying to reassure him.

“Today’s not about me,” he deflected.

“It's just a date.” I tried to play it cool but inside, my nerves were on fire. Cal arched an eyebrow at me, seeing right through my act.

“Have you talked to Mouse?” he asked, fidgeting with a loose thread on my duvet.

Just the sound of his name made my gut lurch. “Nah, haven't heard from him.”

Cal let out a heavy sigh. “Has anyone else heard from him?”

I shook my head. “Last I heard, he's ghosted Hunter and Tyler too. It's weird, man. I used to know everything going on in his life, and now…nothing.”

Cal shot me a pointed look, reading right through my bullshit. I ignored it and grabbed my jacket, heading out the door.

I sucked in a breath, steeling myself as I approached my blind date. He was attractive, the kind of guy who turned heads without even trying. He stood to greet me, and I couldn’t help but admire the white button-down shirt hugging his toned body. The sleeves were casually rolled up to his elbows. The gray checked pants he wore seemed tailor-made for him, my eyes on their own accord drinking in the tone of his ass. Thick brown hair and sparkling green eyes gave him a boyish appearance.

His smile was warm and inviting, but it only made my hands shake with nerves. Sure, I knew the drill when it came to hookups. But dating? That was uncharted territory for me. Thankfully, the guy seemed to sense that and cautiously approached. A wave of calm washed over me—or maybe that was just the earthy scent of his cologne.

“Hey, I'm Jordan,” he said, his smooth voice reassuring. “Joe's told me so much about you.”

I couldn't help but chuckle nervously. “Good things, I hope.”

A spark of mischief flickered over those green eyes. “Well, he didn't lie: you're quite the looker.”

My smile widened, heat creeping under my collar. “He wasn’t lying about you either.”

Jordan laughed, and the sound warmed me from the inside out. “You’d hopes o—'good genes,’ he’d say.”

He gestured towards the booth, inviting me to sit. Our knees bumped, but neither of us moved. I savored the warmth of his legs against mine, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table and Jordan mirrored me. My gaze flicked to his mouth, admiring the perfect curve to his lips—which curled into a smile when he noticed.

After ordering drinks and some light food, I mustered the courage to steer the conversation forward.

“So, related? He really had that much faith in this?” I teased.

Jordan smirked from behind his glass of red wine, his gaze meeting mine with a glint of amusement.

“He's been trying to set this up ever since you came out to him.”

I shook my head. “Well, he fooled me completely. So, please enlighten me.” I gestured between us, and to my surprise, Jordan reached across the table, taking my hand in his. It was a bold move, but one that I found myself leaning into.

“Honestly, he didn’t give me much to go on: just that you’re great guy and you’re attractive. Oh, and if all else failed, we could talk hockey,” Jordan replied with a chuckle.

“Ah, you play?” I let my eyes roam his body once more, which hinted at an athletic background.

“Unfortunately, not. I used to, but I tore my ACL freshman year—twice. It pretty much crushed any hopes of making a career out of it,” Jordan explained, clear disappointment in his expression.

I instinctively gave his hand a squeeze. It was a simple act but in that moment, it felt like a connection I had been missing. His face softened and his hand tightened around mine in return.

“It's fine, really. It opened up other pathways for me. I was so desperate to stay in the hockey world that I spoke to my college coach, and he helped me find opportunities. I ended up working in equipment management for the team, and now I'm with the NHL. Actually, as of this year, I'm one of the equipment staff for the Voyagers,” Jordan revealed with a hint of pride.

My jaw dropped. “No shit?”

His confident smile washed over me like a warm embrace. “Yeah, I love it. I love being around the world any way I can. ”

I must have had a dumbfounded expression on my face because he squeezed my hand to divert my attention. “What is it?”

“One of my roommates just started his rookie year with the Voyageurs,” I confessed.

His grin widened. “No shit! Tyler, right? You two played together in college, didn't you?”

I nodded, a fond smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah, I've never met another player like him.” I chuckled, fully understanding what he meant. “He's a force, that's for sure. But he’s just as strict at home as he is on the ice.”

Jordan gave me that heartwarming laugh again. “Oh, I can see that. Does he know?” He didn't need to clarify what he meant, and I appreciated his grace.

“Yeah, he does,” I confirmed. “I'm out, if you're asking.”

Jordan’s smile was infectious. It was hard not to mirror his easygoing demeanor.

“Well, another check in your book. Been there, done that with someone in the closet, and it's not fun.”

I nodded, knowing the weight that Tyler and Hunter carried on their shoulders. It wasn't a path I wanted to walk.

“So, what's your story?” he asked, shifting the conversation back to me.

And so, our night unfolded in a blur of conversation, me delving into my large family and him his life with Joe—his brother. The revelation made me realize the faith he had in this date, knowing that my heart still belonged to someone else.

“So, to rip off the band-aid—Joe mentioned you were trying to move on from someone.” Jordan broached the subject gently.

I sighed, Eli's memory pressing down on me like a lead blanket. I went to pull my hand away from his, but he held on firmly.

He apologized softly. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about it.

“No, it's fine. It's pretty cliche, really,” I admitted. “I fell for my straight best friend. We grew up together, and he started a life with his girlfriend. I need to have a life where he isn’t buzzing around me all the time.”

Jordan nodded in understanding. “Are you talking?” he asked, his eyes searching mine for the truth.

I didn't know what answer he wanted but with him, I wanted to try. His presence gave me a sense of comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time.

I shook my head, a bitter smile playing on my lips. “He surprised me. He caught me making out with a guy—I wasn’t out to him. I didn’t feel like I could without feeling like I needed to express my feelings about him.”

“Ah, and I’m assuming he didn’t take it well?”

I shook my head once more, earning another squeeze from Jordan’s hand.

“Does it bother you?” I asked.

“No, Shane. I get it, I do. And call me bold but… would you like to do this again?”

I felt a genuine smile creep up my face. I did want that. This was what I moved here for, and Jordan had an ease that I wanted to lean into. Yes, yes I did want to do this again.