Chapter 4
FOUR
Eight Months Ago
Eli
I wake up to the sound of paws scratching at the bedroom door. I try to shift around but I’m trapped by a heavy arm and a body sprawled all over me. I blink down and see Ash’s head on my chest, his right arm around my torso. His legs are tangled up with mine and I try to reign in my feelings. The truth is, I’ve kept my desires and my feelings for Ash locked tight for a while now.
There’s so much about him that I like and I’ve dreamed about moments like this many times before—lazy mornings together and his body on top of mine. I swallow hard and blink back all the emotion that wants to bubble up to the surface.
God, how I’ve wanted this .
Ever since that first day at training camp when he barreled into my life with his friendly attitude and charming personality, I’ve always had a soft spot for him. I tried to keep my distance at first, the last thing I needed was to develop a crush on yet another teammate, but wherever Robbie and I went, Ash followed. Long days traveling on the road and even longer nights talking in my apartment and playing video games made me crave more. More of this, him, us, the simplicity of just being near each other, being openly affectionate. It’s something I’ve never had before in any relationship. And I want it so much I’m willing to take it now when I know I shouldn’t. He was drunk last night, and while he said he liked me and kissed me, that might not mean anything.
What shocked me the most was his breakdown. I’ve never seen him cry before and seeing him so sad and broken made me feel so helpless.
Why doesn’t anyone want me? Is that really what he thinks? That no one wants him?
I just wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. I wanted to tell him how often I think of him. I wanted to kiss him and show him how much I want him. But there’s clearly something more there for him to unpack, and the last thing I want to be is his self-appointed therapist.
When the scratching at the door doesn’t stop, I slowly get out from under Ash, brushing the dark red hair off his forehead in the process. I open the door and see one of Robbie’s cats, Caramel—the orange one—looking up at me with big green eyes. I bend down and pick him up, snuggling him to my chest, knowing he’s about as affectionate as me and doesn’t like to be snuggled often. When I turn around with the cat in my arms, I see Ash is awake and looking at me. He’s turned around so he’s lying on his back now, one arm draped over his torso and I bring Caramel up to my face to hide my smile.
I approach the bed and slowly place Caramel on top of Ash’s stomach before sitting down next to him. I know his eyes are glued to my face, but for once he’s quiet. The cat immediately loaves up on top of Ash and starts purring, so I give him pets and steal a glance at Ash. He’s still looking at me, dark blue eyes unblinking while he takes shallow breaths. I can sense he’s worried about what I will say.
Eventually, he starts petting the cat too, and our fingers brush every now and again with each stroke. When I find the words I want to say, I stop his fingers with a gentle touch of my hand. Caramel senses he’s no longer needed so he jumps down and leaves, while our hands fall together on Ash’s stomach. I caress his thumb back and forth and say, “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah,” he croaks out, still looking at me skittishly.
I nod and stand up, handing him a pile of clothes from the top of the dresser. “Robbie left these for us last night before he went to bed. Get dressed and we’ll go.”
Ash
After a long staring battle with myself in the mirror, I come out of the bathroom dressed and ready to go. I have no idea what is going on with Eli or why he’s not mad at me, but he gives me a small smile and says, “Let’s go get breakfast.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he says, blue eyes sparkling. This is…strange.
We quietly make our way out of the guest bedroom in case Robbie and Olivia are sleeping, but as we’re walking by their door we hear the shower running and a muffled thumping against the wall.
I turn to Eli so quickly that it can’t possibly be good for my hangover. We both look at each other with the same wide-eyed expression and when I hear the thumping sound again, Eli has to slap his hand over my mouth to muffle my loud laugh.
“Shh,” he says, face close to mine as his hand still covers my lips. There’s a smile in his eyes and the next thump has him chuckling so that I end up covering his mouth too. We stand there for a second, giggling against each other’s hands. Our gazes lock and I catalog every tiny brown fleck that surround his irises. The contrast is stark against his light blue gaze and I wonder how I’ve never noticed it before. My gaze drops to his mouth covered by my hand, and I can feel his warm breath on my fingers. Slowly, Eli releases me, and with one last look that borders on lingering, he drags me away to the hallway.
We put our jackets on and have a laughing fit as we get in his car, but once Eli starts driving, the lightheartedness seems to dissipate. An awkward silence takes its place and for the first time in a long time, I don’t know what to say. Eli doesn’t turn the radio on and neither do I, and my hangover headache hits me in full force.
The rest of the car ride to downtown is just as quiet and I’m starting to get antsy. Is he buttering me up with food before telling me we can’t be friends anymore?
“Can you at least give me a hint as to what we’re eating?” I ask, stealing a glance at him. His hands are relaxed on the wheel and he has an expression that I can’t quite decipher. He doesn’t look mad, but he’s also not smiling anymore.
“That honey biscuit place you’ve been pestering me about for months,” he says nonchalantly and I immediately perk up. Eli and I got brunch together every Sunday over the summer and I always suggested this place but he always refused because it’s always packed with people and he doesn’t enjoy crowds.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, kultsi, ” he says with a small smile. My head snaps over to the driver seat. What did he just call me? I don’t often hear Eli speaking in his native language, so this takes me by surprise. I take longer than needed to respond to him since I’m stuck on the foreign word. Is it a nickname? No one’s ever called me anything other than Ash or Ashton. I don’t hate the idea of him calling me something else—something meant only for me.
“You must really care about me if you’re taking me there. I’ve only been talking about it for months,” I say with a scoff.
Eli’s smile falls and he takes a glance at me before returning his eyes to the road. He grips the wheel a bit tighter and says, “Of course I care about you. Do you really believe otherwise?”
I fall silent for the rest of the drive and Eli doesn’t say anything else either.
When we get to the restaurant, it’s surprisingly not as busy as usual. Must be because it’s New Year’s Day and people are either sleeping off their hangovers or spending time with their families. The waitress is all smiles as she leads us to a booth in the back where it’s nice and quiet. Thank god, because I’m starting to develop a massive headache after all the drinking last night.
“Can I get you anything to drink to get you started?” she asks, and I don’t miss her flirty attitude or the way her eyes roam over me. Any other day, I would flirt right back, maybe even get her number and invite her over to my place. But my head has been so fucked up recently, even the thought of it makes me queasy.
“Water, please,” I say without paying her any more attention.
“Two waters, two coffees, and two glasses of orange juice,” Eli says and gives the girl a smile. What the hell? Since when does he smile at strangers? I feel like the roles are reversed here and I don’t like it one bit.
“Coming right up!” she says, all chipper.
We quietly look over the menu and the waitress comes back with all of our drinks. I gulp down the water immediately and pour myself some more from the bottle she left on the table.
Food doesn’t even sound good at the moment so I don’t mind when Eli takes charge and orders us both breakfast. I’m too distracted by my headache and the decor of the restaurant to even pay attention.
The place is very sleek and modern looking, but comfortable at the same time. The walls are navy blue, the upholstery on the chairs and booths is steel gray and all the art and decorations are a nice, soft yellow. There are even fresh yellow flowers in vases on all the tables. Must be expensive this time of year.
“ Ilo . Did you hear me?” Eli says, pulling me out of my stupor. I narrow my eyes at him. This is the second time he’s called me a foreign word. They sound different, but I have no idea what they could mean. It’s not kusip??, which is the only Finnish word I know. It means fucker and let’s just say Eli uses that one a lot on the ice.
“What do you keep calling me?” I ask before taking another big swig of water and sip the coffee. My grimace must be quite ferocious because Eli laughs and takes my coffee away. Before I can complain about it, he rips open two packets of sugar and a packet of vanilla creamer and adds them to my cup. My brain short circuits in the face of his kindness and I’m left with nothing else to say or do, except stare at him. Eli’s long fingers are lightly gripping the spoon as he stirs my coffee. He’s so fucking good, and kind, and pretty. Everything about him is pale: his skin, his blond hair, his blue eyes, and yet, he shines so fucking bright.
I take my time and admire his movements. Eli’s hands are big, but not meaty like one would think for a goaltender. His fingers are long and deft and he keeps his fingernails trimmed and proper, just like the rest of him. His hair is soft but not too long, and his eyebrows are thick and pale. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him with scruff, let alone a beard, and his clothes are always clean and crisp. He’s so put together and it bothers the shit out of me. I want to rumple him up. Make a mess of him.
Would he let me?
He says something and my gaze drops down to his mouth and his pink, kissable lips. His bottom lip is slightly plumper than his top and all I can think about is how good he tasted last night, how I wanted to run my teeth along that lip and tease it.
My gaze snaps up to his and I realize I’ve been caught. Eli stares right back at me with a small smile and pushes the coffee back over to my side of the table.
“Drink, it will help with the hangover.”
“Thanks,” I mumble.
Our food arrives quickly and we eat in companionable silence. Eli ordered me a plate of shakshuka and a side of the famous biscuits and this is seriously the best thing I’ve ever eaten.
“How do you always do this?” I ask, closing my eyes around another bite of biscuit and almost moaning in pleasure.
“Do what?” he says with a laugh.
“Know exactly what I need, when I need it?”
Eli swallows a bite of his fancy egg white omelet and looks at me but doesn’t say anything. He just shrugs.
“It’s like your superpower. You always read people’s moods and know exactly what to do or say.” Eli blushes at my words and I think it’s time we stop ignoring the elephant in the room.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, “about last night.”
Eli sits back in his seat and inhales deeply. “Which part are you sorry about?”
I hold his gaze and try to figure out what he might be thinking but the man might as well be out there on the ice. He’s an immovable block. Unreadable.
I bite my lip and reluctantly respond, “All of it.” I think I see the smallest of shudders in his facade so I decide to take a leap. “All of it, except for the kiss.”
There. It’s out now. I may not recall everything I said last night, but I remember telling him I liked him, and I remember him taking care of me when I got too drunk. Like he always does.
Eli links his fingers together and rests his elbows on the table. His head drops down as he rests his forehead on his hands and I let him process what I just said.
After what feels like forever, I start to talk. Because I hate silence and I can’t fucking help myself. “Look, if this is too weird, or too much, I get it. I’m a lot to handle and you definitely deserve better, and?—”
“Stop,” he says, lifting his head and looking at me with such a fierce expression that I immediately clamp my mouth shut, “Stop putting yourself down like that.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. So I close it and do my best to swallow. I didn’t expect him to say that .
“You are not too much to handle, and you don’t know the first thing about what I deserve, ” he spits the word out with such malice it’s like I personally offended him with it. Damn, maybe I have.
I lift my hands up and say, “Okay. Alright. All I’m trying to say is that I like you. I want you. But if you don’t feel the same way, that’s totally cool.”
What the hell is coming out of my mouth?
Totally not cool.
I might fucking die if he doesn’t feel the same.
“Of course I like you, Ash,” he says, and I nearly leap out of my seat and into his lap, “but?—“
No, no but .
Damn it.
Eli looks around the restaurant for a bit and then back at me. “But I’m not ready to be out. I don’t know if I will be anytime soon.”
I sigh and my shoulders slump. I can understand him not wanting to come out, but it’s not like I’m asking for his hand in marriage. So I try my best to convince him. “Look, I’m not asking for a relationship. Hell, I’m not asking for anything, really. But maybe we can have some fun, you know? We can keep it casual. No labels.”
Eli shakes his head and I feel like an ass for even suggesting all we do is hook up. “Why, then? If you feel the same way, why would you deny us both?”
“Because I’ve been through this before, okay?” he says, exasperated.
“You have?” I ask, confused. Eli never talks about his love life. As curious as I am, I don’t know if I want him to tell me now. Not after our kiss last night. I don’t think I could bear thinking about him with someone else.
Eli rubs a hand across his face before moving to his jaw. His eyes meet mine again, and this time I can see how sad he is about all of this. “When I was playing back home in Finland, I was seeing someone. A teammate. We were together for a while and we kept it a secret, but when I mentioned I wanted to come out, he freaked out. He said it wasn’t a good idea, that it would ruin my career. After all that, even though I changed my mind and listened to his advice, he still dumped me.”
I reach my hand out and hold his, trying to offer some comfort. I want to say: This will be different. We’ll be different.
But I don’t get the chance as he says, “I just don’t think it would be a good idea to go there. I promised myself I wouldn’t make the same mistakes as before. And also, you’re one of my best friends.” Eli squeezes my hand in his before pulling back. “I don’t want to lose your friendship. You mean too much to me.”
Well, shit.
I’ve just been friend-zoned.