5. Tyler

The fucking nerve of that guy ! It was like he found the scab that needed scratching and kept picking until it started to bleed. I glanced at the time, noting it was nearing nine in the morning at home. Good, I needed some familiar voices. I shoved past Hunter and returned to my stall to get dressed.

"Ignore Hunter." I looked over to see Colton leaning against Hunter's locker. "He's all about the college experience. He just doesn't understand that it's different for us. Look, the party tonight is at the hockey house; it's not just sex and booze. We have video games, pool, and shit. It's just mates hanging out, and the guys get the deal; they won't try to force girls your way. We like you, Aus, and it would be good to celebrate our first win with you." I smiled, even though there was no way I was going, especially if Hunter was involved. Still, it was nice to have the invitation.

"Thanks. I'll think about it."

Colton clapped me on the shoulder, a broad smile on his face. "That's all we ask."

I packed up my gear and left, waving goodbye to the team as I dodged more attempts to get me to the party. I was already dialing home before the doors banged shut behind me.

"Hey, it's my college hockey star!" That was all it took for me to relax. I wasn't embarrassed to admit I was homesick.

"Hey, Ma, how's it goin'?"

Her chuckle sounded on the line. "I feel like I should be asking you that. You're the one exploring the world."

I rolled my eyes; grateful she couldn't see it. "Yeah, it's fine; we won our first game. I got to play in the starting lineup with the captain, got a couple of goals in. It was just a preseason game, so no biggie." I remembered the feeling on the ice and God, it made me… forget. Forget that I was thousands of miles away from home, forget all the new—forget Hunter.

"Tyler, it's hard to be happy for you when you don't sound it yourself."

"I'm just a little tired, getting used to the classes, the training schedule, ya' know."

"Mmhmm… I call bullshit," Mum hummed, knowing me all too well. I couldn't help but laugh, drawing a couple curious stares as I walked back to the dorm. The cold air stung my cheeks and nose, but at least I now had a jacket that could handle it

"I'm just missing home, you know? The team is great, save for one guy—the dude's got a mouth on him. On the ice, though, we're a killer combo. It's like we can read each other's minds. Though as soon as we step into the locker room… he just knows how to make my blood boil." I could feel my blood pumping at the mere thought of his glare, the way he studied me like he was trying to read me for weaknesses. It was as if he got off on making me squirm. That alone sent shivers down my spine, giving me that extra edge for the next match.

"I see…" I knew that tone; it was the one that meant, "I know something you don't." I swear that woman was a witch in a past life.

"See what?" The bite in my voice even made me flinch. I never spoke to her like that.

"Don't take that tone with me, Tyler Riley," Mumma Bear mode was activated, and my shoulders slumped.

"Sorry, Ma. He just gets me so riled up. What do you see that I can't?" There was a beat of silence on the other line, long enough for me to enter my dorm room. As usual, it was empty. Cal was the ghost that graced the halls, occasionally making his presence known by a lone sock in the living room or the stickiness of a poorly cleaned countertop. "Ma?" I began as I pushed through the door to my room, sitting on the bed that groaned like an Australian in the snow.

"Is he hot?"

Panicked, I looked around my empty bedroom like an idiot, as if someone else could possibly hear.

"Excuse me? Did my mum just ask if I found the dickhead teammate hot?"

She simply laughed. "Well?"

I blinked some more at the dingy-looking ceiling. Where was she going with this? "I am not telling you that! God…"

"So, I take that as a yes?"

I groaned, attempting to divert my thoughts from the guy who got my blood boiling. "Mum, he's a teammate." I could practically hear her eyes roll.

"I know something happened on that hockey trip years ago. Your dad might have mentioned the girl, but that doesn't mean you can't be attracted to guys. And, well…"

I stiffened, speaking through gritted teeth.

"But what, Mum."

"I do remember a boy who came to me before he slept with a girl, asking how does one know if he likes girls or guys."

"I was fourteen, Mum."

"Yes, but then you tried it with a girl — which we won't get into — then we lost your dad, and then I got sick, and you made it your role to protect both me and your brother. I worry you have decided not to explore yourself because there's so much responsibility on your shoulders."

I glanced around the room, desperate for something to capture my attention.

"Mum…" I was at a loss for words because, really, I wanted her to do all the work. I hated this topic for so many goddamn reasons.

"Tyler." She drawled out my name, knowing exactly what I was doing.

"Come on, son. This was your dad's game: making me fill in the blanks of his emotions so he doesn't have to. Not you. You come to me and work through your thoughts and emotions, which is why I'm assuming you're on the phone with your mum on a Friday night. Aren"t your teammates out celebrating tonight win? You should be with them. So, talk to me, kiddo."

I sighed. Despite Dad being gone, she spoke about him freely. Two years passed like lightning, but the ache in my chest hadn't gone anywhere. "I don't know, Mum. I don't know what I am, who I am. All I know is I am a good hockey player. The guys here—all they talk about is sex, parties, hockey, and well, American college boy shit. I don't fit in. Sex…it wasn't something I enjoyed. How it all happened… I don't want that."

My mind went to sixteen-year-old me. I had the confidence of a kangaroo in a fistfight. Nothing scared me. I was cocky, loud, and nothing but smiles. Our Perth team beat the undefeated Canberra boys and we were on a high. Despite the loss, the Canberra boys threw a party that we all snuck out of the hotel to go to. Because we were the winners—that was it. But just as soon as I learned what that high felt like, I was also taught that life could slam you down quicker than you could blink.

I heard a soft sigh.

"Sex isn't meant to be like that. Yes, it can be casual, but it can also be earth-shattering. That's all I'll say on it. Just know that it doesn't matter who you like, Tyler."

I huffed a laugh. "I can't really explore that here, Mum. Sports aren't exactly the place for queer people. It's a liability, and the big leagues won't touch me if they find out. I have enough to worry about without trying to figure out if—" I paused, needing to take a breath "If I like girls at all."

There, I said it. And my heart was pounding in my chest, drowning out any other noise that threatened to compete.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the threat of tears. I could almost hear the gears turning as my mum processed what I'd just told her. "Honey, I don't know if that was any sort of coming out for you, but I'll say this: no matter how you identify, you're still you. You're still a young man with a big heart who doesn't shy away from who he is."

I sighed; I loved my mum, but she saw the world through rose-colored glasses. She was a romance writer that everyone fell under her spell, with her idyllic thinking of the world.

"Ma, you do realize I am in a predominantly Irish Catholic state, right? Half this country has banned books with even so much as a queer character. The sport that means the world to me banned rainbow tape."

"Fucking stupid," she muttered under her breath. "The lot of them, love is love."

I couldn't help but chuckle, "I know, Mum. I'm not putting a label on anything yet, but there's no point in denying it. You seem to still know me even from halfway across the world. Do I find guys attractive? Yes. Does that include one particular douchebag I know? Yes—annoyingly so."

Her laugh made me relax—slightly. "Do me a favor?"

"Hm?"

"Promise me that you won't stop yourself from experiencing… life. I don't want you to get your dream career and regret your path getting there. I don't think hiding part of yourself is good for your mindset. Having connections with people is important—whether that be a friendship or a fling. Sex isn't something you should be afraid of. What that girl did to you was unforgivable, but it's different when you're older. You have an opportunity now. You're a young college student. You can get to know another part of yourself. Go and find out who you are without being Tyler Riley the hockey star."

"I'll think about it," I muttered, but I couldn't deny the fact that her little pep talk had me itching. I began to wonder what it would be like—wondering how to do it without the team knowing.

"Atta boy. Go to that party, show face—don't be a hermit."

"Fine, I'll go."

I could hear the smile in my mum's voice. "Good! Now, wear something nice. You never know who you'll meet." Before I could protest, she signed off with a quick, "Love you! Buy your own condoms!"

My face was on fire, but for some reason she had me on my feet. She didn't need to know about the condoms I already had—I wasn't that clueless. I changed into dark, distressed jeans and a white top that was a little loose, so I tucked it in the back to show off my ass—ets. I threw on my new thick leather jacket and grabbed a beanie as I left, heading to the hockey house.

The party was hard to miss.

People poured out the front door of the brownstone, beers and red plastic cups in hand. I felt like I had walked onto the set of some reality show. I always thought the movies were exaggerated but as I moved through the house, I quickly figured out I was very wrong. I took in the guys who were obviously jocks, wrapped around girls who wore a lot less fabric than the weather called for. Then there were the edgy rocker types and the shy ones in the corners. The furniture had been pushed aside, leaving space for the drunken dancers in the living room. Girls stood on the coffee tables, men standing off to the sidelines watching. I wanted to laugh, but I was too busy absorbing the experience.

Back home, a party consisted of a small bonfire in a cut-in-half feed drum, people on deck chairs, drinking beers or whiskey and coke,girls sitting on laps, or singing along to the tunes that played on a tradies Bluetooth radio. You knew the night was ending when the last lot of dancing and singing hit, then people would crash in whatever they brought with them: cars, swags, or simply a sleeping bag.

This… this was next level. I walked through the house, not missing the heads that turned my way: fresh meat. There was a second TV and lounge set up where some guys played video games. The air hockey and pool tables drew a crowd that called out a barrage of insults to get their opponent off their game. A poker table was hidden past the kitchen on the dining table, and outside under some heat lamps was the beer pong table with a game going that drowned out the music.

"Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi!" I spun to the noise, seeing half the team huddled in the kitchen, wide smiles greeting me. I couldn't help but return one of my own

"I feel at home already," I made the Australian lilt roll off my tongue thicker than usual. But it had the desired effect. They pulled me into the group, reaching out to pat any part of me they could reach—including my ass.

Colton wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Good to see you changed your mind, Aus."

"Well, between you and the family calling me a hermit, I decided to brave the world of an American college party."

Jarman was the next to chime in. He was a typical hockey player, built like Colton but somehow even beefier. He was one defenseman I didn't want tackling me to the boards. His beard was something my dad would have envied. Thick and perfectly shaped to his jawline. His hair was buzzed short, and those muddy brown eyes always seemed to be smiling "What's so different?"

"Well, the turnout for one.We don't have huge house parties like this—they'd be shut down way too quickly. We have something called bush-doofs. We find someone with a bigger backyard or a large property. We have a fire, deck chairs, beers, and music. There's beer pong, but otherwise, it's just hard yakka and that, ya know?"

Pairs of wide eyes gaze back at me like I'm speaking a different language—maybe I am.

"Hard yakka?" Jarman echoes, testing out the unfamiliar word on his tongue.

"You know, banter, good chat, takin' the piss." I shrug, unable to find a better description than that, but the team seemed to accept it.

"You guys are a different breed. So, you just do bonfire parties and that's it?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But the legal age is eighteen, so most go out to clubs. Things like this—" I gesture around the house. "—are usually saved for special occasions." From what I can tell, the house is two stories and has people packing every inch.

The conversation seems to surround me for a bit, the guys eager to find out the differences between the two continents. It wasn't bad, it got my mind off the talk with my mum. Eventually, I messed around at beer pong until I started to feel buzzed, then I slinked off to a corner to people-watch.

My eyes caught a familiar face—Cal. He didn't notice me at first, which afforded me the opportunity to truly take him in. He was slimmer than me, but I could see the toned muscles pushing against his tight sweater. Though what made me approach him was the tenseness of his jaw, clenched so tight I was worried he'd break a tooth. I followed his gaze to find two guys making out under the staircase.

"You okay, mate?" I elbowed him, but softly, worried I'd lose a tooth if I spooked him. His face cut to mine, and I watched as he took me in, and realization hit his eyes.

"Well, you see that guy?" He pointed to the two guys going at it, and I wasn't sure which guy he was referring to. I cleared my throat—they weren't really my type. If I were ever honest with myself, I definitely had a type. One was edgy, with piercings and tattoos. The other was a clean-cut golfer-type guy, similar in height to me. The former was slim, reminding me of a skinny front band member, while the latter looked like he had an appreciation for the gym.

Cal watched me assess the two men, maybe trying to determine if I was uncomfortable. In truth, I'd never seen two guys kissing so… passionately in public. Their tongues danced together, wrestling for dominance. It looked messy, for lack of a better word.

"Which one? They're both guys."

Cal turned to me, and I realized he sort of reminded me of a baby-faced Chris Evans. He was attractive, a little on the smaller side but I appreciated his appearance nonetheless.

His expression changed, the agitation leaving his eyes even if it was just a little. He huffed out a laugh. "I suppose they are." He gestured again. "The one who looks like he plays golf on Sundays."

That had me laughing out loud, and a few heads turned my way. "Sorry, that's exactly how I described him in my head. What about him?"

Cal squirmed. "That's my boyfriend."

My mouth fell open in shock. I looked to him, then to the golfer guy who was sucking face of punker guy. My stomach churned in sympathy, because I thought they were really serious about each other. I had been at college for a few weeks, and I'd barely seen Cal.

"I hope that reaction isn't you wondering why he would go for someone like me," Cal grumbled.

I turned to look at him again, noting the way his teeth bit his lower lip. Then I looked back to his "boyfriend." He was attractive by societal standards, but Cal had much more going for him.

"One, I was thinking he's a dick for making out with that twink in front of you. Two, you're hot. Unless you're into the whole punk rock thing—which I'm not—he's downgraded. By a lot."

Cal's mouth curled into a wide smile. Chris Evans eat your heart out.I smile involuntarily. What can I say? Cal had a certain aura around him that was impossible not to like.

"You, uhm… you're into guys?" he asked sheepishly.

Nerves bubbled up in my stomach. "Uh..." I looked around to see if any of my teammates were nearby.

"Ah, not out then?" I didn't miss the disappointment painting his features.

"My life is complicated. I'm not from around here, and this is my opportunity to get on the NHL radar—"

Cal put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "I know. You've been the talk of the town: hot Aussie superstar hockey player—the girls are eager to get a taste of you."

I look away, disgust roiling my stomach at the idea. I'd had a couple girls come up to me, and thankfully my teammates stuck to their word, steering them in another direction. I don't know what they really thought of me. I didn't miss the whispers, and standing in the corner with an openly gay man was doing nothing to help the rumor mill… but I felt more comfortable beside Cal than I did when girls were squeezing my ass and asking me to speak Australian to them. "It's the same fucking language darling,"was apparently the wrong answer, but the guys seemed to find it funny.

"Don't worry, I'll be the last person to out someone." Cal brought my attention back to him and I fought of a grimace.

"Your boyfriend is currently cheating in front of us, and you're consoling the guy who doesn't want the world to know that he might not be straight."

"I get it. There's this stereotype that you need to be this big manly man. And being a man means you have to be so fueled with testosterone that you only want to fuck pussy, right?"

I couldn't help but laugh out loud again, I turned to face Cal, ignoring some eyes drifting my way.

"Right, I'm kind of still deciding… what term fits. My life is complicated. I haven't had a chance to… experiment. "

Cal nodded, his boyfriend's drama forgotten as he looked into my eyes, his own a warm brown that radiated with sincerity.

"If you weren't the hockey star that you are, would you be dabbling in dudes?"

Instinct made me look around to see if anyone overheard what he'd said. With an eye roll, he took my hand and pulled me outside where the bonfire had been lit on the frosted ground. Outside of the cool frigid air, it was so much like home I couldn't help but smile while I looked at the flames. Cal added some wood to the pit before sitting down beside me on the wooden deck chairs.

"So? You don't have to tell me, but I am a good listener and secret keeper." Despite the cheeky grin on his face, I somehow believed him.

"You're just as pushy as my ma on the topic, you know that? But yeah, I suppose if my life was different, I would be. Maybe I would have explored something more. Or at least be open to it. I just don't want it to get in the way of my future… you know? There is only one Australian who had ever played national hockey league and he had to practically jump through hoops to get noticed. Add in the fact I may be gay…" I cringed at myself.

"I get it, being out can be hard, especially in sports. Then you have to actually find another guy who is openly gay to have a relationship. And at our age, the pool is a little small unless you want a Daddy. When you do find someone… well apparently, they cheat on you in front of everyone." Cal huffed.

I nudged him with my elbow.

"The guy is a dick stick. You don't seem like the type who golfs on a Sunday anyways. What did you have in common other than being gay?" It was brutally honest, but Cal didn't seem to mind.

He looked at me with that same smile. "I like you, you're honest. Really… nothing. The sex was good I suppose. He always knew the right thing to say, but seems he does that with anyone."

"Apparently good sex can be found anywhere, so you'll find someone who can be there both emotionally and sexually."

I took a sip of the beer I'd been nursing for a while. I really wasn't a huge fan.

"Apparently?" Cal looked at me with an eyebrow quirked, and I couldn't help but laugh again, the alcohol buzzing through my system.

"God…" I wasn't sure if it was because Cal was having a bad night, or if it was simply because I hadn't had alcohol since I was sixteen but I trusted him. "I've, uh, only had sex once. It wasn't great. I was out with the team celebrating, everyone was hooking up and drinking. I'd never really been one to let loose, but I was a confident guy. There was this one girl, real pretty, but she was very forward. I sort of let her kiss me and flirt with me. I tried rolling with it because I saw how everyone else looked jealous that she was giving me attention. She was apparentlya big deal where she came from—had a reputation. But it made me nervous. I thought it was because I wasn't… experienced, but then she took me into some person's bedroom, and I started to feel really uncomfortable. She got more persistent with me and was touching all over me. I wasn'tinterested by this point, but she kept at it." I paused, turning my gaze to the ground. I saw that look on Cal's face—the pity. "I was young and stupid. I didn't want to upset her. I could have done something, could have said no… but I didn't. I let it play out."

Cal rested his hand on my knee, only briefly before he pulled it away. "You know that's not okay right? Did you express you weren't feeling it?"

I shrugged. "Not in so many words. I tried pulling away but she kept coaxing."

Cal took a sip of his own beer, mulling over my words.

"Still not okay," he decided. "If you want, I can always find her on social media and do a little karma. Don't underestimate my internet stalker game."

"Nah, it's fine mate, really."

"So, you haven't tried since—with anyone?"

The swell of the emotions that came with the last two years hit me like a ton of bricks. I blamed the alcohol once more because I hadn't touched it since that night. I also hadn't really let myself process any of it.

"My dad was killed a few months later fighting a bushfire. Then six months after that, Mum was diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. My brother was spiraling and needed me. Despite how strong Mum tried to be, she just wasn't present after Dad's death. She was a bit of a ghost. Sometimes it felt like I lost both my parents. She's better now, the cancer managed with her treatments. But with it all, the last thing on my mind was exploring that part of me."

Cal's eyes shone with unshed tears. "Jesus Ty, that's… horrible."

I shrugged, the knee-jerk reaction to just move on. I wasn't sure if it was Aussie attitude or pure dismissal. Because I couldn't afford break—not now.

"Well, you're here now. I think you should put yourself first. Explore that side of life, if anyone needs some good sexual therapy, it's you."

I barked a laugh. "Sexual therapy?"

It was Cal's turn to shrug now. "When you know, you know."