30. Logan
THIRTY
LOGAN
A few days later I unlock my door, walking into my room, only to get jump scared by someone in my bed. “Fuck, Evander. Can you give a guy some warning?”
“I’m hiding from Dad.” With my brother back in the country, he takes full advantage of my dorm.
“What?”
“It’s his weekend.”
“Doesn’t he have games?”
“Of course he does, and he wants me to go.” Evander gags, rolling to his back. “So I’m hiding.”
“Are you going to get Mother in trouble for this?”
Evander glances over with a smirk. “No. I was in Dad’s custody when I left.”
“Genius, actually, because if he admits to Mother he doesn’t know where you went, she can use it against him.”
“Precisely, and she’s only letting him communicate through an app the court gets record of.”
I laugh, taking a seat in my armchair. “So how long do I have you for?”
“Like you care. I know your roommate better than you. He says he hasn’t seen you in days.” Evander serves the statement just like our mother would.
“Ouch, but true.” No point in denying it.
“So it’s going well, then?”
“I think so.” I can’t quite put my finger on why Anthony has been a little off since our loss against the Monsters, but it’s not worth bringing up to my brother. I don’t need to have him add to my worry.
I’ve been off too, waiting for my dad to rub in the victory. But he’s been oddly silent, which just makes the fear of the impending doom all the heavier on my shoulders.
“Think?”
I need to pick my words more carefully. I love to forget people with trauma end up hyper-vigilant, and my brother is no exception.
“Well, I’m dating my much older coach. It’s not exactly picture perfect or even possible to be public. I’m not sure how to measure that in ‘going well’ terms.” I’m always too honest with my brother, and maybe I shouldn’t be. But maybe that’s the curse siblings share. We’re the only one to understand the other’s specific brand of childhood trauma, thus making us closer.
“Why do you care?” Evander says after a pause.
“What are you getting at?” This is what I get for opening up to a high schooler.
“Have you ever wanted a traditional relationship? Because I don’t think you have. So having to hide it doesn’t change anything about you two. I don’t think you’d be making out in public or overtly open anyway.”
“Why do you have to be right?”
“So what’s your real hang up?”
“I don’t remember signing up for therapy,” I say flatly.
“Maybe if you’d show up to family therapy, I wouldn’t have to come here to provide it.”
I make a face. “No, thanks. I don’t need to talk about my daddy issues.”
“Because you’re too busy acting them out?”
“If you can’t beat them, join them?”
“I don’t think that’s how mental health care works.”
“Maybe I’m tired of fighting my issues and it’s time to give into them?”
“I know they say admitting is the first step, but I think this is a step backward.”
“At least backward comes with great dick.”
Evander lets out the most exaggerated sigh. “I hate myself for saying this, but don’t you mean cums?”
“You said it, not me.” I pick up my phone, checking the time. “What’s your plan for the night?”
“I don’t know. I have to keep hiding from Dad.”
I scratch my cheek, thinking. “I have dinner plans and can’t text Anthony for obvious reasons, but you’re welcome to come if you want.”
“This isn’t some way to add me to your creepy Dad’s enemy revenge is it? Because I’m not into older guys.”
“You’re a minor, gross, and I’m not sharing.”
“The age of consent in New York is seventeen.”
“Still no.” I shove to my feet, my ass sore as fuck and not in the fun way. “Are you coming?”
“Why hasn’t Anthony gotten a burner?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“A fucking burner phone? Like I left you?”
“Why would he have a burner phone?”
“So you two can text? For someone as smart as you, you’re really dense. Do you still have the one I got you?”
“Somewhere?” I dig through my desk drawer and find it. “Good idea.”
“God, it’s like you’ve never had to hide anything in your life.”
“I didn’t. Dad never cared what I did because I’m not his favorite.”
“It’s a fucking curse,” Evander mutters, shoving himself off my bed. “I guess I’ll go to dinner with you since I have nothing better to do.”
Anthony doesn’t say anything when he opens the door and lays eyes on my brother. He steps back, giving me a questioning look.
“Nice to see you again.” He walks past Anthony and looks around, a little too bold, but Gen Alpha is something else, and we just go with it.
“He’s hiding from my dad, avoiding his custody time, and can’t go home or my mom gets in trouble,” I say with a shrug. “I didn’t want to leave him in my dorm room.”
“He’s not, like, tracking him, is he? I don’t really want him showing up here.” Anthony makes a face, and I can tell he’s only half joking.
“I’m smarter than that. He tried to put a tracker on me the last time I did this, and I left it on a city bus. He learned his lesson.”
“That’s good!” Anthony laughs, and I turn towards him, shocked by the outburst.
“Look at you, all smiles.” I hold out the burner phone. “It’s a burner paid for in cash, so you can text me.”
“Oh, wow, that’s a good idea.”
“It was mine. You’re welcome.” Evander flips through Anthony’s books.
“Thank you,” Anthony adds after a minute. “Is your number already in here?”
“I added it on the way over here.”
He puts it in his pocket then hesitates. “What do you want to order?”
I get up close and personal so our chests touch. “It’s okay to touch me while he’s here.”
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
“Positive. He’ll only complain a little.” I brush our lips together. “Where do you want to order from?”
“What made you bring your brother over here?” Anthony asks when Evander leaves.
“I thought it was better than ditching you. Was that okay?”
“I—I liked it. I like that you’re comfortable enough to bring him here.”
I drape my arms over his shoulders. “I am comfortable enough. I’m glad you don’t mind. It doesn’t make you worry about my dad more, does it?”
He shakes his head. “No, it just felt like—I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Forget it.”
I slide my hand into his. “Try.”
He’s silent for a long time. “Like we’re more.”
“More what?”
“I don’t know.” He looks out the window but finally says, “Are you going to resent me because you’re missing out on all the college fun?”
“What am I missing out on? Because last I checked, I get to have my lips around your cock nightly.”
“I don’t know. Being wild, dates, being in public.”
“I had quite a bit of fun until I met you. That’s how I met you. I’m sure you’re not ignorant of that. I don’t feel like I’m missing anything, and I’m not the type of person who would be super public with a relationship. My brother reminded me of that today.”
“So what are we doing?”
“Dating?” I offer, because I’m still not sure what he wants to hear.
“Is this temporary, Logan?”
“Do you want it to be?” I ask. “It’s been six months. What is temporary?”
“It feels like we have a shelf life, like I said before, and I don’t know where this is going.”
“We’re both not seeing anyone else, right?”
“Yes.” He stares into my eyes, as if he doesn’t know where I’m going.
I shrug. “Doesn’t that make us boyfriends?”
“If we are boyfriends, what is the future?”
“I’d like to find out together.” I’m steady because I know he needs it.
He searches my face, and in that moment, I’m not sure what he’s going to say. Is this too much for him? “Why are you better at this than I am?”
“Because I’m not jaded by old age.”
He narrows his eyes but laughs. “I’m not that old.”
“Whatever you say.” I kiss him, but this isn’t like when I’m trying to get laid. This is just because I want to taste him. “We need to sleep, or I’m not going to get through two practices tomorrow.”
“If I let you off tomorrow, does that mean I can keep you up later?” he asks slyly.
I raise my brows. “Does that mean I’m going to lose my spot?”
“You’re not losing that spot. You’ve earned it more than a few times over.” He slides a hand under the back of my shirt, brushing his fingers over my skin.
“Then why am I still doing double practice?!” I act annoyed, but I’m not really. I like the extra time with him.
“I want you to be better. I’m always going to want you to be better, but more than that, I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“With hockey or with me?” he asks.
“Both. For the first time in a long time, I’m enjoying hockey again.” It crept up slowly, and I hadn’t realized it until I said it out loud. “I’ve been enjoying it for a while.”
He smiles, and he doesn’t fight it anymore. It stretches across his face, reaching even his dark eyes. “I feel like I’m a part of that, and it makes me happy.”
“You are, and our winning streak doesn’t hurt either. The only game we’ve lost recently was to the Monsters.”
“We play them again next week, so we have a chance to change that.”
“We’re going to slaughter them.”