Chapter 40

Luca

H ockey was a numbers game. My ten-match suspension passed in the blink of any eye. I was back on the ice on the second line. We had three W’s in a row, and I had four points, two goals and two assists in my first two games. All of this equaled ten out of ten and a team that was riding high as we transferred from the team plane to bus. That, the bus, was the only downside. It felt like we had been on the road for months, not days. I missed my house, my girl, and her little dog, too, But I couldn’t deny how good it felt to be back on the ice. First-line honors still eluded me. But it would come soon.

With each game I played, my confidence grew to its once-cocky heights. The trick shots and the pregame strut were back. Life was fun again, and it was all because of her.

Before my time in Australia, before Polly, I didn’t recognize the burden of my secrets, of how hiding so much of me stopped me from bonding with my hockey brothers. It was no wonder I so easily believed myself in love with Clara. She was one of the few to know all of me. I clung to her for understanding and safety. Not love. My life was a performance. Now it was my reality.

Meeting Polly … Loving Polly allowed me to be me.

“Fuck, I can’t wait for this game to be done. I want to go home.”

“Glad to hear it, Dickweed.” A swift slap was delivered to the back of my head as Coach Brown sauntered by. “Now, would you mind joining the rest of your team on the bus so we all can, or do you want to walk to the hotel in the snow?”

Immature giggles broke out around me as I dropped my head and followed, treading in the hollow left by his footsteps so I didn’t slip and make an even bigger fool of myself. “Sorry, Coach.”

“Sorry, Coach,” singsonged thirty-odd grown men as I stepped onto the bus, shaking the snow from my hair.

“Who did you guys’ rag on when I was gone?”

“Mostly Carter. He’s much less fun, though. He doesn’t bite back like you do.”

I looked over at Will Carter. Rookie. Redhead. Reader. He blushed and buried his face deeper into his book as I slipped into the seat next to him. “Guess we better stick together, little dude.” Cheeks flushed almost purple as he grunted something, then pushed his glasses back up his nose “Ya know, Carter. In all my years playing, you look the least like a hockey player of anyone I’ve met. You sure do play like one though.”

“Thanks … I suppose.”

“What are you reading?” I snatched the book from his hands and gave it the once-over. “Teacher of the Year.” The cover featuring two smartly dressed handsome men grabbed my attention, and after pursuing a few randomly selected pages, I decided I might not return it. “William. Is this a romance book? A male romance book? Are you reading smut?”

“Bro,” he mumbled, digging his elbow into my side and snatching it back. “As if the hair and dorky glasses aren’t enough, you want to out me and give them one more reason to give me shit?”

“Hey, chill, little dude. For starters, no one is outing anyone. But if you were out, no one would give you shit. Look how good everyone’s been with me.”

“Yeah, to your face, because you’re you, and because you married a hot Australian babe. Do you think they’d support me if my boyfriend turned up to training in my jersey?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.” I did not. Not a hundred percent anyway, and it must have shown on my face.

“Thought so.”

The bus rattled to life and slowly pulled from the curb. “Have you been together long? You and your boy?” I asked, dropping my voice.

Carter slid lower into his seat and glanced around before replying. Rory was in the row behind us, already passed out cold, and the one behind him was empty. “Since junior year. He plays hockey, too, but he got drafted to our home team, the B’s. He’s playing in Providence.”

“At least he’s close by.”

“Yeah. It’s not the same, though.”

“Just imagine how hot it will be when he makes it to the B ‘ s list, and you have to play against each other? Skating with a boner is never fun, but getting rid of it after the game always is.”

Finally, I got a laugh.

“Post-game sex was always my favorite,” he said, shifting in his seat, classic instant boner style.

“Cheers to that, little dude.”

Carter glanced up from his book, giving me a once-over, trust slowly emerging. “While you were gone, Brookes told me your queerness was bad for the team’s image, and that if I knew what was good for me and my kid, I’d keep my mouth shut.”

“One, Brookes is an asshole. Two, your kid? You have a kid?”

“Kinda,” Carter shrugged. “He’s my little brother. He’s only three, but we lost our parents when he was a baby, and my sister and I raised him. I told Dallas he wasn’t my son, but I don’t think he was listening.”

“He wasn’t ‘cause he is an asshole.” Another chuckle had my young teammate sitting up a little straighter. “And I’m sorry about your mom and dad. Good on you for stepping up and taking on such a big responsibility. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been to balance school, hockey, and parenting.”

“And coming out,” he added with a huff. He turned to the window and drew a hockey stick in the foggy glass. “Everyone at home knows I’m gay. Just haven’t told anyone on the team except for Brookes. He only knows ‘cause we roomed together in the pre-season. He and his manager, Chris, busted Jasper and me Face Timing. Luckily, we were only talking, but they heard us.”

I almost choked on air. “Chris. His manager’s name was Chris? It wasn’t Chris Night, was it?”

Carter’s finger stilled just as he was adding the puck. “Am I in trouble if I say yes?”

“Of course not. I’m just curious.”

“Oh, in that case, yes. It was Chris Night, and he gave me his card. Do you know him? He seemed like kind of a d—–”

“Dick? Yes, he is, and not the kind you and I like.” I ran my hand over my two-week growth. “When did Chris start representing Brookes.”

“That I don’t know. But he did agree with Brookes about me staying closeted.”

“Yeah. I’m sure he did.” I twisted in my seat, grabbed Carter’s shoulders, and looked him straight in the eye. “I’m not going to tell you or anyone when, or if, or how they should come out. But I will say this. You should never have to hide who you are, and anyone who tells you that you must is a coward. If you want to bring your man to a game and have him in your jersey, bring him to a game. You have every right, and I will be standing behind you cheering you on all the way … Just not for the post-game sex.”

The blush was back. And mutual. “That’s probably for the best.”

“Good. Lecture time is over. Now, scoot over and share that book. I want to read more about Olan.”

As asked, he held the book between us, and we read in a comfortable silence for most of the twenty-minute drive. Just as the bus began to pull off the freeway, Carter began shifting in his seat.

“He’s actually coming to the game tonight.”

“Who, Marvin?”

“No, you dick, not fictional character blowing his boyfriend. Jasper. My Boyfriend. He and my brother Donny flew down to stay with his aunt. They’re all coming to see the game.” With a sigh, his head dropped. “I told him not to wear my jersey.”

A fire ignited in my belly. “Is this the first Islanders game he’s seen you play?” He nodded, still looking down at his giant shoes hidden beneath his team-issued backpack. “Do you want him to wear it?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Well, my friend, the choice is yours. You can always send him a message but don’t feel any pressure. You’re good, kid. You have a lot of years left to see him wear it. And vice versa. Do it when you’re both ready.”

Our Minnesota game ended with another W and with me racking up the most minutes I’d spent on the ice since my return.

Every single part of me was in P.A.I.N.

My feet, especially my still-healing Achilles, my arms, my ass, my hair, my teeth—all of it—hurt like hell. Lactic acid burned through my muscles as I glided around for one last lap of the ice, waving goodbye and thanks to local fans and those who traveled to see us play.

Their jubilation over another win took the edge off, but only the very edge of the edge.

“D’Cruz. Hey, Luca.” I turned to see Will Carter, our rookie skating towards me with his little brother holding his hand and skating along beside him. “Coach Brown let me bring Donny out onto the ice, but he’s not interested in his boring brother. He only wants you.”

“Little dude,” I laughed. “You have impeccable taste, my man.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he knows what that means.” Unlike me, Carter had minimal ice time and was fresh as a daisy. “He wanted to know if he could get a photo?”

“Sure thing.” Bending down and hoisting Donny up and onto my shoulders with his legs dangling either side of my neck really, really hurt. This was made obvious by all the grunting.

“Don’t pull anything, old man,” quipped Carter as he pulled out his phone and began to snap away.

“I think I liked you better when you didn’t speak.”

“Me too,” Donny chuckled. It would have been cute had it not made him jiggle, which in turn made the blades of his little skates jab into my pecs.

“I knew I liked you when I saw you, kid.”

With Donny riding high, I took another lap on the ice. He waved and cheered to his adoring fans and then skated back over to the bench so his brother could remove him from my weary body. “Thank you, Mr. Luca.” He smiled as he wrapped himself around Carter.

“Anytime, little man.” Desperate for a rub down and shower, I began to move but stopped when Carter grabbed the hem of my shirt.

“Luca, before you go, I want you to meet another fan.” He swallowed heavily, took a deep breath, and pulled a young guy who had been hovering behind him before me. This is Jasper. My …” Say it, kid . “My boyfriend.” Jasper, who looked more surprised than anyone, put out his hand and gave a tentative smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jasper. Carter tells me you’re a B’s man. You got a good team this year. Not as good as us, of course.” I pointed to the number 24 on his sleeve. “Do they know you’re wearing this jersey?”

“No, they don’t and hopefully they never will.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I said, leaning in and slapping the side of his impressive bicep before turning back to my teammate. “You did good, kid. Your man’s a tank. Now, let’s get the hell out of here so you two can enjoy that post-game ... Ahhh … special time we talked about.”

Blushing in unison, Carter and I waved to Donny and Jasper then headed down the corridor to the showers. My mind instantly started to count down the hours till I could enjoy my own special time with Polly.