Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ZOMA
I t was the day before Thanksgiving, and we’d driven almost nonstop to my home in Colorado Springs for the holiday. It had been a long drive, lasting over twelve hours, but we’d stopped in Albuquerque for a later dinner and had seen some sights along the way. I squeezed Ace’s hand resting on the center console of his truck as we made our way down the dark and snow-dusted road I’d ridden my bike on as a child. I gazed through the windshield at the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies surrounding the city, glowing in the moonlight. Things had become so easy between us and I loved every second of sitting in his truck with him on the drive.
My parents’ little bungalow came into focus around a corner. “Hey, it’s right there.” I pointed to their one-story home, built in the middle of the eighties. Mom had painted it a nice green color with cream trim. She’d wanted it to blend in with the surroundings—the grass and the two large Aspens in the front yard.
“Oh, nice.” Ace drove into the driveway and stopped the truck. “This okay?” He turned to me, biting his lower lip.
“Yes, we can move it in the morning if we have to.” I kissed his cheek. It was more likely we’d be the ones hitting the grocery store for whatever Mom had forgotten to pick up for our meal. “Let’s grab the bags and go inside.”
“Yep.” He climbed out and plucked his duffel from behind his seat while I snatched my suitcase.
As we strolled across the walk to the portico covering the front door, it opened, and light spilled onto the entry. “Honey, the boys are here,” Mom called behind her, then stepped out in her slippers with an oversized hoodie covering her thin frame and her long brown hair wrapped in a loose braid falling to one side. “Oh, Zoma.” She bound to me, wrapped me in a warm hug, and kissed both my cheeks. “I’m so happy you two finally made it.”
As warmth bloomed in my chest, I glanced at Ace. “It’s good to be home.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him to us. “Ace, this is my mother, Rose.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Ace held out his hand to her and smiled.
With a glance at his hand, she said, “Can I hug you?”
“Uh, sure.” Ace shrugged, his cheeks reddening. Holding his arms out, he stepped toward her.
She fell into him, her small body pressing to his and her arms winding around his waist. “My, you’re a big one.” With a giggle, she freed him. “Come on in and get out of this cold.” She waved us inside.
With a peek at me, Ace followed her in, set his duffel in the foyer, and looked around him, taking off his knit hat.
Oh, holy hell he was cute right now. He looked nervous as hell. I shut the door behind us and set my suitcase on the wooden floor. “Where’s Dad?”
“I’m coming.” Dad strode through the hallway from the kitchen, his glasses resting on the tip of his nose and a cable-knit sweater hugging his chest. His hair was a little shorter and the gray at his temples had grown since the last time I’d seen him. “Hey, Dad, this is Ace. My boyfriend.”
Ace straightened his shoulders. “Nice to meet you, sir.” He stretched his hand out.
Dad grabbed Ace’s hand in both of his and shook it, beaming at him. “It’s a pleasure, and you can call me Alfred.” He released Ace and planted his hands on his hips. “Well, now that you’re both here, I think this calls for a little celebration.”
Clapping her hands over her chest, Mom said, “Yes. Do you drink wine, or would you prefer whiskey or bourbon, Ace?” Mom nudged Ace in the chest.
“You know what I want, Mom.” I picked up my suitcase. “Let us throw our bags in my room first, though, okay?”
“Of course.” She lifted her brows at Ace.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Ace said, “I’ll take a whiskey. Neat.” He snuck a glance at me as if looking for approval.
“Oh good. Just what I was having.” Dad patted Ace on the arm and sauntered off with Mom behind him.
“Uh, what’s going on?” Ace studied me.
“They want to get to know you, so they think having a drink together in the kitchen will help. It’s just what they do.” Grabbing his arm, I pulled him down the hallway in the opposite direction, toward the bedrooms. As I ducked into mine, I said, “My parents are going to ask a lot of questions. Just a word of warning.” I chuckled. He was in for it. I threw my suitcase on the bed.
“Okay.” He set his duffel on the floor by the closet. “Was this your room when you were little?” He walked around the room, picking up a framed photo on the dresser with my high school graduation photo in it.
“Yes, but the furniture is new. Mom replaced the bed with this queen-size one for guests, or we’d be sleeping in a twin-size bed tonight.” I stepped behind him and swayed to the side of his shoulder to peer into the photo. God, I looked young there. I had so much hope and would lose so much. Who knew? But now I had something to look forward to again. “Plus, there’s no way I would have had a flowered quilt on my bed like this one.” I chuckled.
“You were cute back then.” Turning, he glanced at me. “Not as cute as you are now, but still, if we had met in high school…”
“You’d have hooked up with me?” I gave him a sly grin. I’d sure as hell have hooked up with him.
“I’d have wanted more than a hookup.” Setting the photo down, he faced me and cupped my cheeks in his big palms. “Zoma, coming here to where you grew up, having such easy conversation in the truck the whole drive, well, it solidifies in my mind that we were meant to meet that night in the bar. That you and I were meant to be together. It feels so right.”
As my heart melted, I gazed deeply into his dark eyes. God, the things he said to me. “It does feel right, Ace.” Lifting onto my tiptoes, I pressed a long kiss on his warm lips. “I love you, Ace.”
“I love you, Zoma.” With a wry grin, he freed me. “Now, let’s get down there and have a drink with the people who made you who you are.”
“Let’s.” I snatched his hand and guided him into the kitchen, updated with white-painted cupboards and black handles and appliances. Mom had done the painting herself because, of course, she had.
Mom sat next to Dad at their round kitchen table, Mom with a white wine and Dad with his whiskey. Two drinks were set at the open seats, Ace’s next to Dad and my wine next to Mom.
We took the chairs by our drinks and Ace picked his up, sipped it, and then smacked his lips. “Wow, this is good. What is it?”
With a soft grin, Dad said, “Jameson Black Barrel. I’m glad you like it.” He drank some of his own whiskey.
“And I have the butter chardonnay you like so much, Zoma.” Mom slid my glass toward me.
“Oh great.” I drank some, the buttery flavor mixing with oak on my tongue. “So, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”
“All we had planned was cooking the meal, watching some football, and relaxing.” Mom threw a glance at Dad. “Your father was hoping Ace would be interested in the games.”
“Oh, I am. I’m a Niners fan.” Ace arched a brow.
“Yeah? Good thing they’re not playing the Broncos tomorrow.” Dad chuckled, running his index finger along the lip of his glass. “But the Broncos are playing tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll be a Broncos fan tomorrow.” Ace sat back in his chair and laid his forearms on the table.
“I like this kid, Zoma.” Dad held up his glass to Ace, who tapped it with his own. In tandem, they said, “To the Broncos.”
“Oh my God.” With a smirk creeping over my lips, I shook my head. “I guess I’ll help you cook, Mom.”
“Thank you, honey.” She faced Ace. “Do you like to cook, Ace?”
“I do. I cook some of the meals for the hockey house I live in. I met the guys playing hockey over the years and we’ve been living with each other through college. Some of them have moved on, but we still like to get together.”
“They’re a great group of guys, Mom, and all queer. They’re making waves in the NCAA and the NHL.” I puffed my chest out. It was time to talk Ace up like the wonderful person he was.
“Are they? That’s great. It’s good to see so many athletes coming out now. It seems your generation is doing away with all the prejudice, and it’s about time.” She gave Ace a pointed look.
“They are. Each person who comes out makes it easier for the next one.” Ace smiled warmly at Mom.
I took a sip of my wine. Things were going well, and he was fitting right in.
The next day, after sitting up with my parents until two a.m. chatting the night before, we’d gotten out of bed and showered, and now Ace was perched on the couch with Dad while I helped Mom with the pumpkin pies. The house was filled with the aroma of Thanksgiving turkey and sage dressing. I stood at the kitchen island, setting the pie crust into a glass baking dish. “How are you doing on your beer? Do you need another?” I looked Ace over, all handsome in his flannel shirt and jeans. It was probably what he’d be wearing if he were at home in Montana.
Ace glanced my way. “I’m okay for now. You sure you don’t need help in there?” He pursed his lips.
“We agreed to let you mash the potatoes, remember?” Mom opened the oven for the thousandth time and checked the temperature of the bird. “Almost ready.”
“Yeah, but it feels weird not to be cooking.” Ace turned his attention to the game, playing on the television across the room next to the gas fireplace.
My gaze roamed out the front window and into the yard, the yellow leaves on the Aspen trees fluttering in the breeze. The snow from last night had almost melted and sat in patches in the grass. It was a perfect autumn day.
“How’s the game going?” I hadn’t paid any attention to it. Mixing canned pumpkin with sweetened condensed milk, I added spices to the bowl.
“The Broncos aren’t doing so well.” Ace drank some beer and peered at Dad.
“You watch. They’ll, uh, they’ll pull out a hat trick in the second half.” With a sharp laugh, he peeked at Ace.
“You know a hat trick is when one player scores three goals in one game, right?” Ace cocked a brow, smirking at Dad. “At least that’s what it means in hockey.”
“Oh, is it?” Dad grumbled and said, “Well, they’ll take the lead in the second half then.” He threw a look at me. “Hockey players. Think they know everything.” With a snigger, he patted Ace’s leg.
“Watch out, Dad, he’s pretty smart.” I set the pie next to the oven so it’d be ready when the turkey came out. “What do you think, Mom?”
“Let’s see.” She opened the oven door and peeked inside. “Oh, it’s ready.” She grabbed a set of hot pads from the counter.
Ace rounded the kitchen island and stopped at her side. “Oh no, you don’t. That thing is heavy. Let me get it.” With a grin, he held out his hands.
“Oh, thank you.” Mom sent me a knowing smile. “He’s such a gentleman, isn’t he, Zoma?” She handed Ace the hot pads.
“Yes, he is.” Stepping to him, I kissed his cheek. “Couldn’t stay out of the kitchen, could you?” I would have taken out the turkey, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Nope. You’re in here. I can’t stay away for long.” He wagged his brows at me.
“Oh, you boys are the cutest.” Mom fanned herself, then started setting the table we’d sat at last night between the kitchen and the sliding glass doors leading into the backyard.
Ace opened the oven door, grabbed the browned turkey resting in a roasting pan, and slid it out. “This looks so good.” He set it on the glass stove top next to the boiling potatoes.
“Goal!” Dad jumped from the couch and pumped his fist in the air. “Told you they’d get a hat trick.”
Rolling his eyes, Ace said, “I’m not going to say a word.” Planting his hands on his hips and facing Dad, he said, “That’s great, Alfred.”
“I hope the game is over before we eat.” Mom set plates and silverware on the table.
Dad scratched his head. “I’ll record it so we can come back to it when we’re done. How’s that?”
Ace tipped his head back and sighed. “I’ll be sure not to look at my phone. Then I won’t see the score in my notifications.”
I hadn’t seen this side of my boyfriend, the sports-loving side. Sure, I knew he loved hockey, but he’d never said a word about football. “You’ll survive watching it after it happens.” I patted him on his lower back and set the pie inside the oven. “I think the potatoes are ready to be mashed too. I’ll set you up on the island so you can keep watching the game.” I gave him a squeeze from behind, my heart filling with warmth.
We sat down for the Thanksgiving meal and passed food around the table, Ace taking huge portions of everything.
Mom leaned in toward me and covered her mouth with her hand. “Look at how much that boy can eat.”
I shrugged. “He needs a lot of calories to do what he does.” I set turkey on my plate and passed the platter to Mom. “After this, we should watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation . What do you think?”
“Oh, heck yes.” Ace cut into a mound of turkey with gravy spilling over the sides. “If I were at home with the squad, we’d be watching that too.” He stuffed food into his mouth.
“These young men you live with, are they from Montana also?” Mom ate some dressing with her turkey.
“No, they’re from all over. One of them grew up in Vancouver, Canada, and the other grew up in Chicago. Then I have a friend in the NHL from Northern Minnesota and another from Connecticut.” Ace scooped potatoes and gravy into his mouth and then tapped his fork on his plate. “This is really good, Rose. You did an excellent job on everything.”
“Thank you, Ace. It’s a family recipe handed down from my father. He didn’t cook very much, but when he did, he made a mean turkey and dressing.” She glanced at Dad. “I can’t get Alfred to make it.”
“It’s your family recipe, not mine.” With a smirk, he washed down his food with a sip of water and focused on Ace. “Mind you, I do all the barbecuing for us.”
“Yes, dear, you do that.” Nodding her head, she cut into her turkey. “Who does the cooking in your family, Ace?”
“Actually, it’s about the same. My mom does all the indoor stuff, and my dad cooks all the meat on his smoker or the barbecue.” Ace stopped eating for a moment. “We get some good meat off the ranch, the best grass-fed steak…” He licked his lips. “I’ll have to get Mom to send you some.”
“You eat the cows you raise?” I stared at him. Holy hell, I hadn’t thought of that. I’d only thought about him riding a horse and rounding them up.
He turned to me. “Well, yeah. It’s not a dairy farm. It’s a cattle ranch. The cows go off to slaughter at the?—”
“Okay.” I held my palm up to him. “I know the realities of where meat comes from, but don’t get graphic on me.” Shit, more new things to know about him. What would it be like when we went to his family home over Christmas? “You don’t, uh, send cows to slaughter over Christmas, do you?”
With a sly grin, he came in close and said, “Sure we do. I’ll even let you pick which ones go in the trailer.”
I dropped my mouth open, my gut knotting. Was he serious? I glanced at Mom and then Dad, both holding back obvious smiles. “No way.”
Throwing an arm around my shoulders, he hugged me to his side. “Naw, you slaughter grass-fed cattle in the fall after they’ve had a good long time eating grass all summer. Makes them fat and juicy.” He ticked his brows at me.
I swallowed hard, dipping my gaze to my turkey. “You eat the chickens you raise too?” Good thing he wasn’t a turkey farmer.
“Sometimes. Depends on if Mom wants to make a batch of her delicious fried chicken.” Ace freed a soft snort. “Zoma, it’s a ranch. We don’t look at animals the same way you might.” He glanced around the table.
“Have you ever chopped the head off a chicken, Ace?” With a smirk, Dad snuck a peek at me.
“No, I can’t do that. My dad takes care of things like that.” Ace dug into his dressing. “Actually, none of us kids will agree to handle that side of things. Dad thinks we’re all wusses, but we don’t care. There’s a line we can’t bring ourselves to cross.” Ace patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Zoma. I’ll make sure all the food has been, uh, processed before we get there.” He chuckled.
“Thank you.” It was a damn good thing my mother hadn’t turned vegan on us. I flicked my gaze to hers. No, she was a conundrum of sorts.
“Ace, I’d love it if you could ship us some of the meat from the ranch. What a treat.” She held her wine glass over her plate and beamed at Ace. “What an interesting world it’s got to be up there in Montana.”
“It sure can be different from what I’ve been exposed to in my time at college and playing hockey.” He ate more food.
After a great meal and more football watching with naps on the couch, we’d taken a walk through the neighborhood, and I’d pointed out all my favorite places. Now it was time for bed, and then I’d be dropping Ace off at the airport for his trip to Detroit tomorrow afternoon.
I followed him into my room and shut the door. We’d been too tired after our drive here to do anything, but now? Now I craved him.
Ace dropped his jeans to his ankles and kicked them off, his round ass to me.
With my cock perking up, I stepped to him and skimmed my hand over the globe of muscle. “Hey, my parents are on the other side of the house and will probably be asleep any minute.”
He straightened and unbuttoned his flannel shirt. Turning his profile to me, he said, “Yeah?” He twisted around, his dick plumping under his boxer briefs and his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his rippled abs. He placed his hand on my cheek, gazing deeply into my eyes. “I’m guessing someone is a little horny?”
“Yeah.” I cupped his balls and fondled them. “I guess having such a great day with you does that to me.” With a smirk, I bit his lower lip and scraped my teeth along it as I released it.
He sucked his lower lip into his mouth and freed it. “Good, because it does that to me too.” He pressed a hard kiss on my lips, his tongue darting into my mouth. With a low groan, he walked me backward until my legs hit the edge. “Take off your clothes.”
Nodding, I shucked off my sweater and threw my jeans and underwear to the floor. “What do you have in mind?” It might not be a great idea to have anal, but there were so many other things we could do.
“Let’s get under the covers naked and see what happens?” He shrugged out of his shirt and dropped his underwear to the floor, his dick stretching to reach his navel.
“Sounds like a good plan to me.” I threw the covers down and climbed inside. All I knew, is I wanted to be close to him tonight. I was going to miss him when he left tomorrow.
Ace crept in beside me, rolled to his back, and uncurled his arm to his side. “Come here. Get on top of me.”
“Sure.” I shifted over him and fell between his legs, our hot cocks slotting together, and rocked my hips. Sensation swirled inside me. Yeah, this worked. Wrapping my forearms around his head, I placed hungry kisses on his mouth, slipping my tongue between his lips and dancing it along his.
With a moan, he clutched my ass and thrust, rubbing his firm dick against mine. “Fuck, Zoma, feels good.” He quickened our pace and spat into his hand, then brought it between us, fisting our cocks and slicking them.
A shiver of pleasure pulsed up my spine, and I moaned against his cheek. I wasn’t going to last long. We hadn’t done anything since before we left, and being here, in my old bedroom, gave the act a taboo feel. Flicking my tongue at the shell of his ear, I bit at the lobe and sucked on it.
“Oh fuck.” Ace pumped both our dicks with his hand while he continued to thrust. His mouth met mine and he buried me in searing kisses.
After a few minutes, he broke the kisses as his rhythm faltered. “Fuck, going to come.” His face tensed and his breath caught. “Shit, coming.”
Hot wetness splashed my chest and stomach, and a surge of sensation overtook my senses. “Oh God.” I fell over the edge as sparks lit behind my eyes and tingled all the way to my toes. I panted and held tightly to his shoulders, digging my fingers into his skin. As it slowed, I buried my face in his neck, the scent of his body wash and musk surrounding me. “You smell good.”
“Yeah?” He turned his head and kissed my hair, skimming his hand over it. “So do you. But you smell a little bit like turkey.”
“Are you serious?” With a smirk, I lifted my head and gazed into his dark eyes. I might, since I’d been in the kitchen cooking all day.
“You smell like Thanksgiving, and I love it.” He pulled my head down and planted a quick kiss on my lips. “And I love you.”
“Love you too.” I kissed the tip of his nose. “I’m going to miss you tomorrow.” An ache crept through my chest. At least he’d be back for the long drive home.
“I know. I’ll miss you too. I wish I would have had more time with your family. It’s really nice here. You grew up with some great parents, Zoma.” He gnawed his lower lip. “They’re so supportive of you.”
“Your parents support you too, don’t they?” I studied him in the glow from the lamp on the nightstand. He had mentioned something about them not being totally okay with his sexuality at first.
“They do. Now they do. We had a few rough years when they found out about me, but it’s all good now.” He glanced away for a beat and came back. “I feel comfortable here.” A wry grin played on his lips. “I’d love to take your dad to a game. I don’t care which, football or hockey.”
“Yeah? I’m sure he’d like that. One of these days, we’ll plan it.” Maybe after Ace was in the NHL, but we’d do it. Holy shit, I was thinking long-term here. Not just next year but rest-of-our-lives long-term. I peeled my chest off his. “Let’s clean up and cuddle some.”
“Hell yes. I’ll cuddle with you until the sun comes up.” He kissed my cheek.
The next few days passed by slowly without Ace around, but I spent some quality time with my parents. Mom helped me make a little vase with hockey sticks on it that I could give Ace for Christmas. I had no idea what he’d do with it, but Mom thought it’d be a cute gesture. Dad took me out on a photo shoot in town and we got some cool photos of the city with the snow-capped mountains rising in the distance.
Now it was Sunday morning, and I waited at the airport arrivals line in Ace’s truck to pick him up. We’d planned on driving home straight from the airport so we could take our time along the route. We hadn’t had much time to talk while he was gone. They’d kept him busy in Detroit. I drove slowly along in traffic, scanning the people outside the glass doors for Ace.
He stood with his duffel strapped around his shoulder, waving at me.
Pulling up to the curb, I stopped the truck, my heartbeat kicking up. The sight of him always warmed me inside.
He flung the door open, popped the seat forward, and threw his duffel behind it. “Hey, baby!” Beaming, he dropped the seat into place and climbed into the cab. “God, I missed the fuck out of you.” He grabbed my cheeks and planted a hard kiss on my lips. “Get us out of here, and let’s go find a restaurant outside of town so we can talk.”
“Oh, okay.” I should have known he’d be hungry after his flight. I changed lanes and drove us out of the airport and onto the main boulevard toward the freeway. “There’s a Denny’s up ahead. You want to try that?” They’d have breakfast food anyway.
“Yeah, sounds great. They have decent pancakes.” He grinned at me from ear to ear.
I drove us onto the freeway, glancing at the buildings of the city in the distance and the sun hiding behind a few fluffy clouds. Ace looked happy. His trip must have gone really well. Would I be moving to Detroit with him this summer? I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make, but I hoped the Coyotes would find a way to give him a deal he could live with.
After pulling into the parking lot at the Denny’s, I parked the truck and stepped into the crisp morning along with Ace. We’d barely said a word since I’d picked him up. “Things went well, I take it?” I followed him into the diner. The place was all dark wood and brown vinyl booths.
“Yep, went well.” He threw me a grin, then stepped inside.
We were seated along the wall with a window overlooking the parking lot and the highway, a border of pine trees lining the far side of it. When was he going to tell me what happened? I picked up my menu. I’d eaten a light breakfast at my parents’ house, but I could eat again.
The server dropped by the table, and we ordered coffee.
I leaned toward him and pressed the menu he held down. “Ace, tell me what happened in Detroit. Did you sign with them?” I lifted my brows. He was killing me here.
“No, not yet.” He set his menu on the table. “I’m getting the grand slam. You can’t come here and not get a grand slam, right?”
Was he nuts? “Ace…” I chuckled through a huff. “For the love of God, tell me what happened.”
“Okay, I met with the coaches and the team, and they assessed my skills. The guys are cool, and the coaching staff really knows their shit. The head coach took me out to a nice meal with one of the captains in an area they called Ferndale. I guess it’s something like the Melrose district at home, where the queer community hangs out.” He looked up as the server stopped at the table and dropped off our coffees.
We ordered, gave her our menus, and she left.
“Okay, and?” Raising my brows, I leaned my chest against the table. I’d have to look up this Ferndale place later.
“And that was about it. I think they’re working up an offer.” He stirred sugar and creamer into his coffee. “I have to say, now that I’ve seen the place and met the people there, I’m not as opposed to it as I was.” His gaze found mine. “How do you feel about it?”
My heart dropped. I wasn’t sure how I felt. A part of me had been hoping he’d hate it and take whatever the Coyotes offered him, but that was selfish of me. “I’m okay with it. I can live anywhere.” I fixed my coffee with creamer and sugar and then drank a sip. “We’ll work it out. We have until this summer, right?”
“Yeah.” He pursed his lips and ran his fingers over the handle of his coffee cup. “Detroit would be playing me in tandem with this other goalie they picked up two years ago.” He nodded slowly. “The guy is pretty fucking good. He’s from Finland. Has an interesting sense of humor.” He chuckled.
I eyed him. He must have made some friends while he was out there. If that were the case, we were probably moving in August. I had to be supportive. “Ace.” I rested my hand on his forearm, lying across the table.
His gaze rose to mine. “Yeah?”
“We’ve got this. Whatever you choose, don’t worry about me. Choose what’s right in your heart.” I patted his arm and freed him. I probably wasn’t going to get much more out of him, and I had the information I needed. Now, I’d wait and see which team would come through.
The server dropped off our food.
“Goddamn, I’m hungry.” He picked up his silverware and cut into a fluffy pancake. “By the way, I’m going to meet with the Coyotes at their training facility this week.”
I choked on my coffee and coughed. “What?” Was he jet-lagged or something, telling me this now like it was no big deal?
A slow smirk spread over his lips. “Yeah, I’m going to see if I can change their tune on using me as a second. If I’m doing tandem in Detroit and the Coyotes would consider the same, then I’ll take an offer with the ’Yotes, even if it’s less money.” He stuffed pancakes dripping with syrup into his mouth. “My agent is going to make sure they understand that.”
With a grin sweeping over my lips, I said, “That would be great, Ace.” Yes, we could stay in Arizona.