Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

TORIN

I’m watching the game when Hugo makes a spectacular block, sending both the puck and the player sliding backwards. The player manages to keep his footing, but only barely.

Hugo’s already following the puck, pushing it down the other end. We’re in the last few minutes of the game and it’s 0-0. Minnesota is a wicked good team. They’re wildly awesome. Like Canada, Minnesota breathes hockey. I was there for a game near the end of the season once with the team. They’re a whole different kind of wild.

I grip the railing at the top of the arena and lean forward. I can’t really see the puck from here. Not having my seal head on probably wouldn’t make much of a difference in that. But I can follow Hugo as he races down the ice. I can see how the other team and ours are racing to catch up.

Noah speeds behind him as Hugo heads around the net. Just as he crosses the midline and Minnesota’s goalie and players twist to follow him, Hugo backward passes the puck to Noah.

The side of the net is wide open and Noah makes an easy goal while only one of Minnesota’s players tries to defend it last minute, having realized they’d misjudged.

The buzzer sounds and the crowd screams.

I raise my hands in the air and jump around. I try to make a big deal about every goal we make so it doesn’t look like I’m only cheering Hugo. Or Hugo related events. I’m not sure anyone would truly catch on to that fact, but either way, I try not to make it overly obvious.

“Surry tail shake,” someone yells.

Even though no one can see me, I flush inside my costume. With my hands fisted, I place them on my hips and stick my ass out, shaking my tail. I jump up, do a quarter turn, and repeat. This happens for a full revolution. When I complete it, those around me cheer as if I just did something special.

That’s okay. I appreciate being part of the experience. It’s nice that they’re excited to see me and watch me make a fool of myself within my costume.

“Surry.” I turn at the voice. It’s one of the exec staff that’s out managing during games. The game is wrapping up, which means my job is almost finished for the night. “Shirt cannon?”

I nod and follow him down the stairs and toward the visitor box. One of the security agents opens the gate behind the box and we step down into the back where the visiting team’s chute leads through. There’s a door to the side and the man picks up a handful of shirts before handing me the air gun especially designed for shirts.

It’s a good thing they don’t ask me to throw. My aim and strength are shit even without the restrictions of a costume and a head that’s five times as big as my own.

We don’t go onto the ice; instead, we walk along the path between the boards and the first row seat. The crowd splits their attention between us and the last few minutes of the game. I glance back, peeking at the time and the score. 4:38 and we’re holding the 1-0 lead.

Turning back, I accept a shirt from the guy and stick it in my gun. The section I’m standing in cheers. Another peek over my shoulder says that they’re not cheering for anything on the ice. So it must be for me.

I tease the crowd, moving my air gun around until I choose a person at random. Whoever gets it truly is random because even though I might aim for a specific person and the shirt makes it there, at least half the time it’s stolen by someone else.

The girl with the neon pink shirt is my target. I point at her and she raises her hands in the air. After a quick pump of the air canister at the bottom, I aim, give her an iffy hand gesture, and then shoot. I’m both surprised and pleased when she shoves a guy who tries to get in front of her for the shirt out of the way and she picks it from the air.

The guy is pissed, but I’m grinning inside my mask. I give her a thumbs up and then point at the angry guy and give him a thumbs down before he gets my tail flipped at him. Doing one better, I slap my tail and point at the guy.

I receive a glare, but the crowd loves it. They’re cheering and jeering, depending on where they’re looking.

We make our way around the arena, stopping in every second or third section to shoot out a shirt. I keep one eye on the game and nearly stop breathing when the puck goes straight for Winslow’s face. Thankfully, he has a mask. And also thankfully, his reflexes are better than a cat’s. He stops that shit like it was nothing.

Thankfully, my job is easy. I get through the shirts and hand off the gun. Then I spend the next hour waving people out. Now that I’m free, I allow myself permission to think about Hugo.

Our season is going pretty well. We’ve officially won more games than we’ve lost now, even if only by one. But even better than the high of the start of the season is the feeling that there’s something growing between me and Hugo.

Yesterday morning was the one and only time we showered together. And jerked off together. I was terrified it was going to be awkward and maybe it would have been with literally anyone else, but as soon as we got out, Hugo hugged me tightly. No words passed between us.

It was as if we hugged all the awkwardness away and he didn’t let me go until we were both convinced that everything was going to be the same as it’s been going. Which is perfect. Amazing. I look forward to moments with him more than anything else. More than I want to breathe.

Hugo walks me to my car tonight. He invited me to go out with his friends and I declined. He offered for me to sleep over, but I really do need a change of clothes. Even though he’s been washing these, I’ve been wearing the same clothes for days now! He even offered to drive home with me so there’s no chance of me getting too tired.

I don’t know why I’m so insistent that I go home. It’s dumb and I’m going to regret it immediately. He hugs me when we reach my car and I try very hard not to sink into him.

“If you get too tired, you can always turn around,” he says. “I promise I won’t be out long.”

“Don’t hurry. You deserve to enjoy time with your friends. You made the one and only goal tonight. That needs to be celebrated.”

Hugo sighs heavily. “Yes, but… Promise me you’ll be okay driving.”

I laugh. “Hugo, I’ve made this trip too many times to count. I swear—I promise—I’ll be fine.”

He nods, but I don’t think he’s happy about it. I don’t know why I’m not just going to his house like I really want to. I think maybe a part of me is trying to protect myself. Maybe how close we’re getting means something very different to me than it does Hugo, and I’m afraid I’m truly going to fall for him.

Crushing on a man you don’t know is one thing. Even if it’s the person you adore from afar—due to his kindness, his happiness, his generosity, his loyalty to his friends—it’s still impersonal because you don’t know that person. You just don’t. You can know everything about him, but if you haven’t spoken to him or spent time with him, you don’t know him.

But now I know Hugo. I’ve spent much of the last couple weeks with him. Spent a whole lot of time—close, intimate, and now sexual moments with him. He’s not just what the world sees. He’s not only what I’ve seen from afar.

He’s more. He’s better. They say your heroes often let you down when you meet them in real life. That’s definitely not the case. Hugo’s even more perfect in person.

“All right,” he says. I can feel his reluctance to walk away. “At least get in your car so I know you’re safe.”

I nod. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Hugo nods in return.

I climb into my car and watch him in my rearview mirror as I drive away. He doesn’t move. My heart races and it’s truly a struggle to keep my determination to go home. At the very least, I need to feed my fish. The auto feeder doesn’t give Fish Hugo everything he needs. It only sustains him for a couple days until I can give him a proper meal.

Like usual, I spend most of the ride thinking about Hugo. How he watched me as I drove away. His goal tonight. That he wanted me to spend the night again.

I’m kicking myself when I finally lock myself in my apartment. This is lame. I’m hating how far away I live now. It’s so inconvenient.

Because I said I was going to, I pull out a bag and start loading it with clothes. Just to store it in my car. Honestly, I can probably look beyond the clothes, but wearing the same underwear more than once is gross. Twenty-four hours is my limit.

Once I’m packed and have tossed the bag by the door, I tend to my fish. Since their tank still looks good, I don’t feel quite so bad for leaving them for so long. From my freezer, I toss a few frozen cubes of sea things into a cup of water from the tank and set a fish head for Fish Hugo on the counter.

While it’s all thawing, I get ready for bed. It doesn’t take long for any of my frozen sea grossness to thaw and I pour it throughout the tank for the sharks before feeding Fish Hugo his fish head. I wash my hands once more before falling into bed with my phone.

I spend fuck knows how long just staring at my text conversation with Hugo and can’t stop myself from sending him a message. Only after it’s sent do I realize I sent it from my phone number and not the app we usually use to communicate. Which means I’m the ‘girl’ he thinks he’s been talking to right now.

Since it was a simple ‘hi’ because I’m still awkward as fuck when I begin a conversation, I’m not overly concerned. Though I want him to really like me as me. Not the me he thinks is a girl.

Hugo’s response is almost immediate.

Hugo

Hi! Why are you up so late?

Me

Just got home. Worked late tonight.

Hugo

Wow, that’s super late. Why aren’t you fast asleep?

Me

Don’t know. I’m too wide awake for sleep, I guess. What’re you up to?

Hugo

I’d gone out with some friends so I’m now just laying in bed. Just got home ten minutes ago.

He really didn’t stay out long. For some reason, that makes me smile. It also makes my chest tight because I wish I were there with him instead of here alone.

Me

Did you have fun?

Hugo

I did but I think I might be to the point in my life where going out just doesn’t hold the appeal it once did. You know? Like I’m ready for something else.

Me

A relationship?

Hugo

Yeah, maybe. It’s a little daunting to think about since I’ve lived my life pretty freely to this point. I don’t know the first thing about settling down.

Me

I think you’ll be a great boyfriend.

Was that too on the nose? It’s the truth at any rate.

Hugo

That’s sweet of you to say. I’m not sure you’re right but I appreciate it all the same. Hey, I told my friend about you.

My eyes get wide until I realize that he’s talking about me. He told me about the girl he’s been talking to. I wonder if he realizes we’ve barely texted this way since the first time I came over.

Me

You did?

Hugo

Yes. I told him I met this really sweet girl and we’ve been texting.

I grin. I want to point out that we haven’t been texting without it sounding like I’m pushing him away. Should I look up how to do that? Maybe just a little subtle… nudge in that direction. I want to give the real me a fighting chance here.

Me

That’s so cute! We haven’t been able to connect much lately.

I debate that one for a few minutes, changing a word here and there before sending it.

Hugo

We haven’t. But the times we do get to talk just feel so… relaxed. Like I can just be myself.

Me

I hope you are always yourself. I enjoy talking to you too.

It occurs to me that maybe I could just be the one to end this. Then he can concentrate on… uh, me. This is already getting too complicated in my head. But the idea that I might hurt him if he does that has me feeling nauseous, so I know that’s not going to happen. I’ll just have to find a way to marry the two lives.

Yep, I just did that. I used the word ‘marry’ in relation to Hugo. Not even sorry.

Hugo

I can let you go to sleep if you want to.

This is my opening. My opportunity to let him go and then not text him back on this number because I’m confident he’ll message me tomorrow.

Instead, I respond with something else.

Me

I’m still not tired. I need to unwind for a bit longer. If you’re not tired, we can talk for a while.

Hugo

I’d like that. I imagine what your voice sounds like sometimes. I bet it’s sweet and soft.

I huff because he’s right about at least half of that. I do generally talk quietly.

We spend a long time texting. Not for the first time, I think about how amazing this man is. He’s effortlessly sweet and thoughtful. So easy to talk to. Maybe I should have pulled away, but it’s still me behind the texts. I’m authentically me. Unscripted.

I keep thinking that hopefully, if he likes ‘girl in text’ Torin as well as shy awkward Torin who spends the night and jerks off with him in the shower like it’s no big deal, then Hugo will realize he likes me. At least, that’s what I’m hoping for. With every single fiber of my being, that’s what I’m hoping for.