Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

HUGO

The last five minutes are always stressful because I’m aware the game is wrapping up and we’re now on a deadline to at least tie it up. We’re down by two with a score of 3-5. Honestly, the New York Lights are just on their fucking game tonight. I’ve spent way more time defending than I have anything else.

Currently, I’m sitting on the bench catching my breath as my gaze scans the crowd. It takes me a minute to find Torin-as-Surry the Seal, but he’s there. About a third of the way up and taking a foam finger from someone in the crowd.

Wait, that’s not a finger. It’s a fishing net. I laugh. Torin waves it in the air before bopping the guy on the head and giving it back. He walks away, further up the stairs.

Still with a smile on my face, I take another pull of water. Glancing up at the clock, we’re at 4:18. The game is moving just barely beyond the neutral zone, back and forth as they chase the puck. One of the Lights players makes a shot, but the puck hits Wiliker’s leg and goes wide. We recover and shoot it down toward the other end while the puck skates along the wall.

Both teams dig in to chase it. Noah and one of the other players slam into the wall as they fight for possession. Noah flings it away but we’re not there to receive it so New York takes possession again.

“Fucker,” Rigbe mutters.

At the other end on the back wall, just beyond the goalie against the wall, four players fight it out for the puck—two from each team. I’m not sure who managed to actually get the puck but it pops out of their huddle.

We regain possession and Noah hits it toward the center where our defensemen are waiting. Except he misses and has to chase it. I roll my eyes. Son of a bitch. Those precious seconds allow enough time for a Lights player to catch up and close in on him.

He manages to keep the puck, makes a reverse spin and shoots it back toward the other end of the ice where Atty catches it. I missed when he got up and tagged back in. Both of our defensemen head for the bench while the puck is at the other end, so I jump back over the half wall.

Just as I get on the ice, the whistle blows. I circle back into the Lights’ zone and get in position to receive the puck. It’s mass congestion as the puck gets thrown back and forth while we all chase it.

In the end, we don’t let any more goals in. But we don’t make any more either. I’m bummed, but we’re still having a decent season, even with this loss. Noah is irritated, though I’m not sure what about. Probably a penalty he didn’t agree with.

I find I rarely agree with many penalties these days. I feel like they’re almost always one-sided. Even when that one side is in our favor. Refs should be neutral, but I don’t really think they are. They want to see a specific outcome. I’m convinced that at least half the time, they rig the games by giving one team a better penalty-game play than the other.

I spare another look for Torin. He’s near the boards now and, while it looks like he’s facing my direction, I’m not sure if he’s looking at me. In case he is, I smile and raise my stick in a wave. It could be construed for anyone, so even if he doesn’t acknowledge me and isn’t looking at me, I don’t feel stupid. We wave to the crowd all the time.

But Torin is paying attention. He jumps up and down, waving and twirling a small sweat towel in the air over his head.

Chuckling, I follow my team into the locker room with a yawn. I’m tired. That was a long game. Then again, I think I’m more tired from the games we lose. It’s probably a mental thing. Like I know we’re fighting twice as hard to catch up, so I’m extra tired.

I pull my jersey and pads over my head before dropping onto the bench to reach my skates. Dressing and undressing are almost as exhausting as playing. At the very least, it’s part of stretching.

“Hey, Hugo.” I look up as Noah pauses on his way by me. “You coming out with us tonight?”

I hesitate because I’d rather go home with Torin, but I also promised I’d be a better friend. Noah can clearly see the indecision on my face, whatever that may look like.

“Lix and Rake are tired of the bar. We were thinking of ice cream on the beach,” he adds. “Owen on the Lights is going to meet us there.”

I’ve met Owen a few times. He’s one of Noah’s gay friends. I don’t think that’s the proper way to say it. Actually, Noah gets irritated when I label someone as a gay friend. They’re just friends. Sexuality has nothing to do with friendship.

I know that, and it’s not really how I mean it. ‘Gays Can Play’ is a mouthful when you’re feeling tired and lazy, so I usually just say gay friend because I know that’s how they became friends—the NHL Gays Can Play initiative. But I know that’s wrong, so I try to keep it inside and don’t say the words out loud.

“Oh. Um…”

“Wanna see if Torin wants to join us?” Atty asks as he starts shoving off his leg pads. “I’m surprised he showed up at the bar. He looked incredibly uncomfortable there.”

He was. I nod in agreement. “Yeah, okay.”

“Ice cream is a good commiseration balm, anyway,” Winny says as he leans back on the bench, already halfway through stripping.

Losing sucks; anyone will tell you that. We’re doing okay. We’re slightly ahead in our win-loss ratio at 11-9, including tonight’s loss. Our season isn’t bad.

But as one does, we hate to lose. Especially when losing three games in a row. The New York Lights are a damn good team. Toby’s predicting good things for them this year. Even so far as to see them in the Stanley Cup against Edmonton, though he has been adding a disclaimer recently that Edmonton needs to get their asses in gear. He thinks they have the talent, but their drive lacks at times .

Personally, I don’t think the Lights are going to make it. I think it’s going to be Vegas and Edmonton. Vegas’ goalie is on his game this year. Not that he isn’t every other year, but there’s an extra chill in the air when Azure Dayne is on the ice. He wants a Cup.

“So you coming?” Noah asks.

I nod. “Sure, probably.”

I’m going to check in with Torin first to see what he wants to do. I love my friends. And I love to hang out with them. But I really want to spend the night cuddling and kissing Torin. I’ve never felt so conflicted before. It’s never been a difficult choice as to whether or not I choose my friends over a date. My friends were first every time.

This is different, though. Torin isn’t just some random hookup. He’s important to me. I really like him. Like… for real. Everything about this feels different.

Once I’m finally out of my pads, I grab my towel and head for the shower where I stand under the spray for a long time. Just letting the warm water wash over me, taking my sweat and tonight’s failure and running down the drain.

I wash my hands while I stand there, eyes closed. My cleaning procedure is a meditative process for me. I spend most of the time showering with my eyes closed. Shutting out all the light and noise as I bring myself out of my hockey mindset and into Hugo head.

I’m thankful we don’t ever run out of hot water. That would suck.

Once I’m finished, I wrap up in my towel and head back to my cubby to dress. The locker room is quiet, with less than half the team left. There were still showers running when I got out and those in the locker room are in various states of dress.

After giving myself another pat down to make sure I’m dry, I begin methodically dressing. Thankfully, I have sweats in the car and fully intend on changing as soon as we’re at the beach. Do I care that I’m naked under my pants? Nope. You want to look at my dick, have at it. It’s not like you can’t already see it perfectly running along my left leg in these dress slacks, anyway.

Once I’m dressed and have shoved everything into my gear bag, I head down the hall. Torin’s door is cracked so I gently knock and push it open a little more. His big seal head is already off and he’s pushing himself out of the costume suit.

When his eyes meet mine, he smiles. How have I never noticed how beautiful he is until now? The way my breath catches, I’m sure I should have already known that.

“Hi,” I greet, stepping inside and shutting the door. I cross the space until I can wrap my arms around him.

Hugging Torin is the best feeling. I love how he’s almost as tall as I am, so there’s no bending over. But he’s still smaller than me, so I can wrap around him and hide him from the world. Keep him all for myself.

I sigh.

“You played a good game,” Torin says.

“Do you get to watch the games?”

His shoulders rise. “Not uninterrupted, but I take peeks and watch for a minute or two here and there.”

“We lost,” I point out.

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t play a good game,” he counters.

I suppose he’s not wrong.

“My friends want to drown our sorrows in ice cream at the beach. Will you come with?”

“Yeah. That’s much better than a bar.”

I grin, pressing my lips into the side of his head. “Then you’ll come home with me?”

Torin sighs. “I want to, but I really have to go feed my fish.”

Everything inside me feels like it’s sagging.

“You can come home with me,” he offers.

Just like that, my insides fill with life again and I grin. “Yeah?”

“It’s a long ride ,though.”

“That’s okay. We can drop my car off then head to your place. Or maybe I should drive my car, too. I have conditioning tomorrow.”

“I can still drive you. I’m not going to do anything in here tonight, so I need to come back before the next home game anyway.”

Which is in five days. Our next game is against San Jose the day after Thanksgiving at their arena. I’m likely staying here for Thanksgiving. Two days off for me to get to and from the opposite coast is a little much. I would’ve spent most of the time traveling, so I’m opting to miss the holiday with my family. It’s a bummer.

I’m not excessively close with my family, but we get along very well. Everyone is very nice and loving and supportive of each other. I’m more bummed about not seeing my nieces and nephews, but a video call will have to do.

It’s not like I’m great about communication outside of holidays. I use the excuse that hockey keeps me busy, but I think it’s just life in general. I say I’m going to call my parents and before I know it, a month has gone by and I have yet to make that call.

I give Torin another squeeze and step back so he can finish taking off his seal costume. I’m leaning against the table watching him when there’s a knock at the door. We both look up in time to see Atty poke his head in.

“You two coming?”

Torin and I nod.

“As soon as he’s stripped his seal skin,” I tease.

Torin bows his head, hiding his blush and smile.

“Cool. We’re thinking Martha’s. Has a little bit of everything. Know where that is?”

I nod. “Yep.”

“Kay. See you there.”

“We’re right behind you.”

Atty smiles and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

“They don’t mind that I’m tagging along?” Torin asks.

“You’re not tagging along. I invited you. And it was Atty who suggested I invite you before I even said something about it.”

He watches me as he slips into his sneakers. “He did?”

“Yes. They like you.”

“We’ve never really talked,” Torin says as he stands straight and stretches his back.

“I think that’s more because you don’t like attention to be on you than it is that they don’t want to,” I point out. “They’re very considerate.”

His smile is shy. “That’s nice of them.”

My stomach flutters like a thousand ballet dancers are twirling inside me when Torin crosses the space to be back in my arms. I could do this all night. Hell with the ice cream .

“Owen is joining us too. He’s Noah’s friend.” I didn’t even stumble over not saying ‘gay friend.’ “And all their partners, probably.”

Torin nods.

We remain right where we are for a long time. Long enough that I’m starting to get sleepy and decide that’s my cue to go. “Let’s drop my car off first. I find it’s less awkward for everyone else when I change in my own driveway than in whatever parking lot we’re parked in.”

Torin laughs. “That happens a lot, huh?”

“I hate dress pants. They fit awkwardly and make me feel like my dick is on display.”

Torin takes a step back, watching with hooded eyes. “Please tell me you don’t think it’s well hidden in your sweats.”

I grin. “Nope! But it’s not in the same way. Look.” Obediently, Torin’s eyes drop to my cock. “I look absolutely ridiculous. Dress pants are supposed to be tight and fitted. Because I’m not shaped for dress pants, I buy them bigger so my dick has somewhere to go. Now I not only have a growth on the side of my leg, but I look frumpy.”

His cheeks are red when his eyes meet mine again. “There are ways to… adjust yourself in pants.”

“Not without underwear, and they don’t make underwear that are comfortable for my size. I’ve looked, though admittedly, not in the last decade.”

He hums. “We’ll revisit this someday, but I think we can fix this issue so you’re comfortable in a suit.”

“You think so?”

Torin nods. “Yes. Don’t mistake me for a fashion phenom or anything. But I have a couple ideas.”

I offer him my hand. Torin’s is smaller than mine, though not like a woman’s. He’s not dainty or soft looking. His hand looks like a man’s and still fits perfectly in mine. Like his hand was always meant to be there.

“You can dress me any time. But first, let’s go have ice cream and cry our loss away. And also listen to Owen gloat about his win.”

Torin smiles.