39. Tyler

Imoved around the kitchen, the rhythmic clatter of utensils and the sizzling of ingredients filling the air as I did my weekly meal prep. Cal lounged on a bar stool, his eyes fixed on my back like it held the answer to a puzzle he was hellbent on solving.

"Cal…" I warned, sensing the mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"What!" he exclaimed, feigning an innocence that had me biting back a smile. "What kind of best friend doesn't spill the details of a drunken escapade? I think it's in the handbook that you have to. What if you needed an alibi for something?"

"Okay, Baby Cap, this isn't a crime drama. I didn't wake up next to a dead body, and I don't need you to prove my innocence."

Cal huffed dramatically. "You never know! It's crucial information, Ty."

I shot him a look over my shoulder. He sat with his hands outstretched as if he were dead serious. Which, with Cal, was always a possibility.

"I had way too much to drink and word vomited all over him," I explained. "He apologized, put me to bed, and agreed to talk when I was sober—end of story" I stayed focused on the stove, knowing that the heat creeping under my collar would give me away if I looked at him.

"That story being your pages glued together?" I risked a glance to see Cal waggle his eyebrows.

I grimaced at his odd analogy. "One doesn't kiss and tell, Cal."

"Ha! You don't need to tell—the carpet burn on your neck does it for you."

My heart raced and my hand shot up to cover my neck.

Cal erupted in laughter. "Got you! That was too easy."

I returned to the chicken and vegetables on the stove with a scowl. "Fine, we're… something. I don't know what the something is but we're exclusively, secretly something. So, if you could refrain from mentioning how you two…" I shuddered, unable to even say the words.

Cal jumped down from the stool and wrapped, his arms around me from behind. "I'm genuinely happy for you, Ty. Even if I think the whole closeted gay thing sucks."

When the hockey guys crammed into our dorm room, I suddenly became aware of the limited space. With their broad frames and towering builds, our apartment was transformed into something reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland. It felt like everyone had taken a potion that made everything shrink—including Jamie, who was wedged between Jarman and Mouse. I stood in the kitchen, putting a little too much focus into pouring a glass of water to calm my nerves. I struggled to keep my emotions in check when it came to a particular teammate of mine who hadn't shown up yet.

Though it was right on cue, a knock at the door made me flinch. Jamie rushed to answer it and Cal's boyfriend, Eric, shyly greeted everyone as he settled into Cal's side. Cal beamed as he kissed Eric's cheek, but then Eric pulled away, leaving Cal stand there awkwardly.

I shot Cal a questioning look, but he shook his head. I guess best friends didn't tell each other everything after all.

The door thudded again, distracting me from the internal struggle as Hunter walked in. I couldn't help but stare with hearts in my eyes as he chatted with Jamie and exchanged greetings with everyone else. I couldn't ignore the way he inquired about training, hanging onto Jamie's every word. I took the opportunity to take in his appearance.

Distressed jeans hung onto every curve, hugging his hips and thighs. A leather jacket hung open over a white tee, making me squirm. I guess a man in leather just did something to me.

Hunter glanced over and saw me staring, giving me a heart-stopping grin. The look in his eyes said everything his mouth couldn't in that moment, but he still leaned in to whisper, "Glad you like what you see baby."

Between Jamie's bed being folded into the sofa and the beanbags Jarman brought with him, everyone found a seat. Jamie chose to sit beside Cal and Eric while Hunter pulled me down between his legs and casually suggested, "No point sitting on the floor, Aus— we can share." I didn't get a chance to argue—it was less of a suggestion and more of an order.

Mouse did the same with Jarman, hopping onto the same beanbag without a second thought. Though no one missed the way Jarman tensed.

"Oh, come on!" Mouse whined, "we shared a bed all through middle school. You can handle sitting with me for a couple hours."

Jarman nodded, but it was tense with gritted teeth.

Hunter squeezed my shoulders—I wasn't the only one noting the tension between those two. As everyone sipped on fizzy drinks or beer, we settled in to watch the Hanukkah holiday hockey game. The dim light of the room afforded Hunter and I the privacy to exchange heated glances and soft touches. Eventually, I settled into a sense of comfort.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.