22. Emmett

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

emmett

We can’t stop laughingas we throw snow at each other. It’s not like real snow. It’s hard as fuck and hurts like hell, but I love every second of it.

It’s not long before the place starts filling with school-aged kids and teenagers. Guess school has let out for the day.

“Okay, okay.” Jonah holds up his hands. “We should probably stop before we knock out a kid.”

“Sure. That’s why you want to stop. It has nothing to do with me kicking your ass.”

“Not at all. You really think I went into this intending to win? I’ve never been to the real snow, and my major in college was statistics and data analysis. I’m under no delusion that I know how to throw a snowball.”

“So you like being pummeled?”

He doesn’t miss the innuendo in my tone. “Actually, I prefer to do the pummeling, but in this instance, I knew it would be the other way around.”

I smile up at him. “Good. I usually like to be the one being pummeled.”

“I can’t tell if we’re talking about snowball fights anymore.”

I close the gap between us, pressing my body against his but keeping my hands to myself very PG-like because we’re now surrounded by children. “We’re not.”

“Is this place suddenly feeling too crowded?” Jonah rasps.

“Yup.”

“Ready to get out of here, or do you need to burn some more energy by sledding down that hill over there?”

“I can think of a better way to burn some energy.”

Jonah groans. “Let’s go.”

It’s like we can’t keep our hands off each other. We rush outside to return our rented jackets, and if there weren’t so many families and children about, I’d be tempted to push Jonah up against the wall of the building and have my way with him.

I take out my phone to order a ride, but the nearest car is about fifteen minutes away. “Stupid industrial area with no drivers. Don’t they know I’m desperate for di—” I glance around, but the parking lot is empty. “—ck?”

“Maybe put that in the notes section. Someone might take pity and get here faster.”

“Ooh, good idea.” I pretend to type on my phone.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually⁠—”

“Of course not. I don’t go around telling everyone how much I like dick, unlike certain professors who like to email their entire class about it.”

This time when Jonah groans, it’s not in desperation. “I am never going to live that down.”

“How were classes today? Did anyone say anything about it?”

“When I walked into the room, there were a few snickers, but I told them all to get it out of the way now until it didn’t become funny.”

“Oh no. Did you get through any coursework?” My sympathy might be dry, but I do feel sorry for him.

“They were still laughing as they left when the lecture ended.”

“I never would’ve guessed you’d be the type of professor to have so many scandals.”

“Maybe I’m not cut out to be a professor.” Jonah says it so seriously that I have to do a double take.

“You’re joking, right? You’re a great professor. You let your students go at their own pace and explain things when you need to. You’re informative and charismatic, and—” Fuck.

“Have you been spying on me?” He smiles, but my heart rate increases to the point it’s hard to breathe. Because this is exactly why I shouldn’t be dating him. And now, I’m going to have to lie to him. Again. Just to cover that I know firsthand what a great professor he is.

“H-Harrison raves about you.”

“But not Ben?”

“Hell no. He hates statistics. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“It’s all good. I know the majority of my students don’t like statistics and are only doing it because it’s a prerequisite to get their degree. And maybe that’s why I’m not so sure about this being a professor thing. Because I want to help people who want to be helped. Who want to be there. The bullshit excuses I get from some of them is insane.”

It’s views like that why it took so long for Benny and me to admit something wasn’t right with us. “I get where you’re coming from, but you know, some people aren’t wired that way. I was not made for college, so it made my experience challenging, especially when I could barely understand what I had to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never been tested or anything, but we’re pretty sure I have a form of dyslexia.” I shrug. I wish I could talk more about it, but it’s a dangerous subject because if I even breathe a word about Ben having dyscalculia, we’re all fucked.

“You didn’t want to get it checked?”

“Nah. I got through high school fine, and I mean, Benny helped me do that, but college is a whole other ball game, and it was way too much for me to handle. Numbers I understand. Words? Not so much.”

“You could get diagnosed now and get extra learning materials to suit your particular needs. I could talk to the dean at Franklin⁠—”

“The thing is, it’s not only because I found writing the engineering reports difficult; it’s that I didn’t enjoy it. At all. Just because I understand numbers doesn’t mean I want to make it my career. I studied that because I thought I had to do something math-based.”

Jonah nods, and I hope he’s getting it. I don’t want him to be the type of guy who hears one thing but thinks his idea is better because I do not want to go back to school. At all.

“So you’re set on this hockey thing?”

“Honestly, I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Hockey, yes, but in what capacity? No clue.”

He smiles. “If it helps at all, I have no idea what I want to do with my life either. I kind of fell into teaching because I was the right student at the right time when Professor Aves was retiring. It was an opportunity that literally fell into my lap, and while I appreciated it at the time, I’m wondering if I took it because I was too scared to find something else. Or too scared to acknowledge that I didn’t have the passion for data that I thought, and therefore, I spent all my time and money earning a useless degree. At least I’m getting to put all my student knowledge to use.”

“It kind of feels like a waste, doesn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“Well, now that we’ve completely depressed the fuck out of each other, how about we go somewhere for a bite to eat before heading back to your place.”

“Stupid cockblocking ride share taking too long and making us talk about real issues.”

“Yup. All the ride share’s fault.”

I’m in trouble with Jonah. I like him way too much and love waking up next to him. His arm didn’t move from where it was draped over my stomach all night, and while I have no idea what time it is, I know it has to be close to when he needs to get up to go to class.

Confirming my suspicions, his hand finally tries to leave me as he pulls himself away, but I quickly roll over and hold on to him for dear life.

He chuckles quietly. “I was only going to get up and use the bathroom and make coffee. It’s still early. Sleep more.”

Jonah kisses the top of my head and slips out of bed.

See? He’s perfect.

Ugh. Why does he have to be so perfect?

I drift back to sleep and am awoken again by freshly brewed coffee and a half-naked Jonah. The only thing that would be better is if he wasn’t wearing any underwear at all.

“Here.” He hands me a mug.

I sit up and take it while he climbs back into bed next to me.

“I was thinking …” he starts.

“Nothing good ever comes from thinking.”

“Maybe for you, but I want to point out something I picked up on yesterday.”

My heart pounds, and I feel sick. I wait for him to call me out on cheating in his class for my brother, but would he really go to the effort of making me coffee if he suspected that?

I stare down at my coffee. Maybe it’s poisoned.

“You really do belong on the ice,” he says, and even though the weight on my chest doesn’t lift, I can breathe again. “Not just as a coach. You should give your all to try and make it, or I think you’ll regret it.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing recently.”

“Does that mean you’re giving more serious thought to moving home?”

I get the impression he’s fishing for something. “It’s one of many plans I’m considering.”

“Anything in particular holding you back?”

I side-eye him, and his face falls.

“Shit. That sounded like I was asking for me, like will you stay in California for me, and that’s not what I was going for at all.”

Is he sure about that?

“I’m more asking so I can prepare myself for whatever you decide. Like, for instance, if it’s your brother holding you back, you wanting to be here with him, then what happens if he decides to go with you? Do you just … leave?” His shoulders slump. “Shit, that makes it sound like it’s about me again.”

Not going to lie, the flustered look on his face somehow makes me like him more.

“You are allowed to do whatever you want. No, not allowed—it’s not like you need my permission. What I mean is⁠—”

“You want to know if there’s any chance of a future here or if I’m planning to run home without so much as a goodbye.”

Jonah sighs into his cup. “I’d at least hope for a goodbye fuck.”

“Oh, I’d leave you with at least that. I’m very selfless and giving in that way.”

“I don’t want to put pressure on you when it comes to you and me. You were adamant nothing could come from this at all, and I’m not asking you to marry me or anything, but … I guess I want to know where I stand or where I will stand if things keep going the way they’re going?”

If the rate at which I’m catching feelings for Jonah continues, I’m going to be a mess of guilt by the time I have to end it. And I will have to end it eventually.

“I’ve completely freaked you out now, haven’t I?”

I force a smile I don’t feel. “No, you haven’t. I promise. It’s just …”

“How about this? I won’t ask you again so long as you promise that if things change for you, you tell me. I don’t want to play games, so if you’re interested in someone else or⁠—”

“I’m not. It’s not that. I can’t offer you anything when I have no idea where my future will take me, and I also don’t think that we should stop seeing each other now because of that. I’m loving every moment we’re spending together. I’m excited when I get to see you, and I’ve stayed over two nights in a row now. I’m so into you.”

“That’s all I needed.” Jonah leans over and kisses me briefly, tasting like coffee and disappointment.

“Then why do I sense you didn’t like my answer?”

He knows I’m holding something back. I should tell him there’s no future. That there can’t be one. But when he asks why, what am I going to say? Because I have a secret that could affect your career? Like he’ll drop that.

“I’m not disappointed. I can’t expect you to know your plans when you’re twenty-one. I’m almost twenty-six and still don’t know if I’m on the right path. I also wasn’t asking so we could label whatever this is between us, but …” He hesitates.

We’re so good at this communication thing.

“I’m going to be frank.” He turns to me, and I can’t help myself.

“Can I still be Emmett?”

“Ignoring your lame joke, but here’s what’s up. I really like you, but I can’t shake the feeling you’re hiding something from me, or you’re not in this fully. And if that’s what this is, then that’s totally okay. I would just rather you be up-front about it before I catch feelings that will be hard to get over. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

He wants to know the truth. He’s asking me to let him off the hook. And as much as I don’t want to, I can’t keep being selfish.