18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Luke

‘ Luke? ’ The surprised edge of his voice still rings through my head. Out of all the days that Cody could’ve gone to the community center, he chooses today. Obviously. Well, it does make sense since we don’t have a game tonight. We don’t get much time to ourselves; our practice and game regimes are brutal, so you need to grab every chance you get for extracurriculars. And after what happened last night… I bet he’s just as confused and frustrated as I am. I know he wants me, too. I saw it painted across his face last night. Reflected in the granite gray of his eyes. Want intermingled with agony and fear, perhaps. I know he’s afraid that I want him in a different way from how he wants me. And I can’t blame him because the more time I spend with Cody, the more I realize I know very little about myself.

The coffee shop is buzzing when we enter, heat blasting in our faces along with Taylor singing ‘ Your back beneath the sun, wishin’ I could write my name on it. ’ No, I’m not a Swiftie. But I grew up with two power Swifties so every lyric is imprinted into my very soul whether I like it or not. Soon Taylor’s soft promise is swallowed by the familiar sounds of the coffee shop. The small, cozy interior is crammed with college students splayed around in couches and comfy chairs around small tables. Randomly placed tea lights add softness to the lighting, and I immediately feel myself relaxing, the cold leaving my bones. The earthy color scheme is calming, and an entire wall is dedicated to shelves upon shelves of what look like thrift store books, the spines old and worn.

“I’ll get the drinks if you find us a spot,” I say while scanning the cramped coffee shop. It looks like there are more seats in the back, so I nod in that direction. “What do you want?” The words linger between us, Cody looking baffled at first, then sad once the meaning of my words settles in him.

“Uhm, just a latte.” He shrugs, scratching his neck. He dodges my gaze—in fact, since we ran into each other at the community center, he’s avoided looking at me. I can’t tell if he’s mad. I mean, I don’t think so, but he sure does look upset. What if he feels that I’m invading his personal space by visiting the LGBTQ+ center?

“Okay,” I nod, turning for the counter. He moves toward the back, vanishing in a cloud of twenty-something girls coming in the opposite direction. They chatter among themselves, but it doesn’t escape me how they check out Cody, who remains oblivious. I don’t blame them. He’s fucking hot. He stands out everywhere he goes with that wavy blond hair and those eyes that you can just drown in.

I quickly place our order, a latte for Cody and a large cappuccino for me. I love that fluffy foam on top. The coffee is just coffee; it does what it’s supposed to do. But that foam. The best. I head for the back of the café, balancing our drinks, keeping an eye out for Cody. I find him at the very back, tucked away in a somewhat quiet corner. He’s sitting in an old armchair close to the window, staring out at the steadily falling snow, covering everything in a fresh layer. He looks lost, the slump in his shoulders evident as he wrings his hands in his lap. The contrast between the confident version of Cody that we see on the ice and this insecure guy is striking. They couldn’t be any more different. I hate that he feels like this. There’s no reason to. Not because I’m minimizing how he feels—I bet he’s hurting. But because he doesn’t need to feel alone, be alone. I’m right here with him. Can’t he tell? No matter what happens between us—whether we end up as boyfriends, which I really hope, or just teammates—I’ll always be his friend.

As confused and discouraged as I was last night when I went to bed, I woke up with clarity. I knew what I had to do. It was clear as day. I need to find out more about what it means to be ace. Not only because I want to understand what Cody’s going through so that I can be there for him and be a better friend. No, I also need to do it for myself. Because the more time I spend with Cody, the more I just know that we could be fucking good together. For each other. We already are as friends and as teammates, but what if we could be so much more?

When he told me about being asexual, it just resonated with me. A lot of things suddenly made sense. Why I’ve never dated. Why I’ve never felt an attraction toward anyone before or enjoyed the physical encounters I’ve had with other guys. Why I’ve always felt that something was off or missing, but in my usual happy-go-lucky Lukeway, I’ve just pushed it out of the way, plastered a big fat smile on my face, and focused on hockey. As much as it has worked for me in the past, though, I can’t put a lid on it now. Being around Cody… It’s like something has finally clicked into place.

For the first time in my life, I feel attracted to someone. At least someone who’s not an unattainable French soccer player who’s married with kids. I like everything about Cody. Obviously, I find him hot, but it’s more than that. I love the way he thinks. He always surprises me with his opinions. Like yesterday at dinner with my parents. He blew my mind. He’s smart and kind. He’s a thinker. He doesn’t feel the need to talk all the time or be the center of attention. He’s humble. I’m attracted to the person that is Cody. He makes me feel good about myself and he grounds me. Whether we’re on the ice or huddled up on the couch watching Netflix, his mere presence makes me feel more at ease and at peace with myself than anything else ever has. That night on the rooftop, I was so attracted to him. To him . Cody. Not in a sexual way but in a want-to-spend-every-waking-second-with-you-and-just-soak-up-the-sun-that-is-you kind of way.

He looks up when I place his latte in front of him. He blinks a couple of times like he’s just waking up from a slumber. Then he offers me a weak smile. Before I can say anything, he murmurs, “Thank you.” And then, as if he’s read my mind, he continues, “I’m not mad at you, Luke.” He leans back in his chair with a sigh, and I sit down in the chair across from him.

“Good.” I return his smile, taking a sip from my cup.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He tilts his head, that wayward lock of hair spilling into his forehead. I did , I want to say. I have. Although, I wasn’t looking—at least not consciously—all roads have always been leading here, to this moment. To him. I realize that now.

“Yeah. I mean, I found a support group for asexual people.” I pause, looking out at the snow that’s now a thick, milky white wall. “I think I need to find out if I’m that. Asexual.”

“Okay.” He sounds so sad, and I just want to get up and go to him. Hold him in my arms and whisper against his hair that everything is going to be okay. Because I truly believe that. No matter what the outcome is, it will be okay.

“Cody. Look at me,” I say, and he looks up, his eyes glassy, hesitant. “It will be okay. It won’t always be like this. We won’t always feel like this.”

“How?” he whispers, and I don’t miss the duality in his question.

“We will figure this out. Together, if you’ll let me…” He nods frantically, tears breaking from his eyes before I’ve even finished my sentence. “Cody,” I coax. “Please don’t cry. You’re not alone in this.” He winces at the word alone . I think he’s been exactly just that for a long time. Not only in terms of his sexuality, but in terms of his career too and just life in general. Alone.

He wipes at his eyes with his right sleeve, tears flowing in a steady stream down his flushed cheeks, a small pool gathering in the hollow of his Cupid’s bow. His chin trembles, a few tears glistening in his scruff.

“Will you… will you come with me next time? On Thursday? To the support group meeting?” he rasps, his eyes not leaving mine.

“Of course,” I blurt. “Of course, I will.” It’s like Christmas and my birthday all at once and I release a breath that’s been locked in my chest since he started crying. I reach across the table, and he meets my hand with his, grabbing and squeezing it tightly in his. “I’ll do anything I can to figure this out if you’ll let me.” He squeezes my hand to the point of pain, but I bear it because in that pain lies a world of gratitude. Not just Cody’s gratitude that I’m here with him right now, but also mine for him letting me be a part of this and not pushing me away.

“You don’t know if you’re ace, Luke,” he croaks, another set of tears falling from his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter,” I murmur. “I’ll still be here for you.”

“But… But I can’t promise you anything. Other than friendship.” He looks bewildered, his armor threatening to come back up. I smile at him, squeezing his fingers back in quiet reassurance.

“I won’t lie. I’m freaking out too. But no matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend, Cody.”

“Yeah?” he says, a world of yearning in his voice, like that small word ‘ friend ,’ is a precious gemstone or the very air he breathes.

“Of course,” I wink. “You ain’t getting rid of me this easily, man.” A smile breaks free from the corner of Cody’s mouth, and it feels like the sun has just appeared from behind a dark cloud. A feeling of hope blooms inside my chest, and I’m confident that we’ll be okay. In whichever shape or form, Cody and I will be okay. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

“Together,” he repeats, sniffing audibly.

“Exactly,” I grin. “Now drink your latte before it gets cold.”