Chapter 17 Archangel
SEVENTEEN
ARCHANGEL
“What the fuck is he going to do?”
Wolfe shrugs.
“What did he say? How did he seem?” My brain is going a million miles a minute, but with the haze from the alcohol, I can’t fully process or think through what we should be doing.
“You know how Ridgeway is. He’s a loose cannon. No one can predict how he’s going to act about anything.” Wolfe has a point, but it doesn’t make me like it anymore.
“Does anyone else know?”
Wolfe shrugs again.
“Fuck.” I press my thumbs to my eyes, trying to keep it together in front of the rest of the guys.
Big hands press into both my biceps, but his physical presence gives me more relief than he knows. “It’s going to be okay. I have you.”
“It could affect everything.” I barely manage to get the words out. I don’t know why this is hitting me so hard, but I just keep seeing his future crumbling and it being all my fault.
“Breathe. Please don’t worry about it.”
But I can’t stop.
He rubs my arms. “Want to leave?”
I swallow back everything I’m feeling and shake my head. “I’m fine.”
I go home for three days for Thanksgiving, and Wolfe and I seem weird, but it’s worse when I come back.
He spent it with his father and stepmother, like usual, but I can’t figure out why he’s acting the way he is.
With finals and practice leading into the semester break, we don’t have time to talk until we’re on our way to our next game.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask, taking a seat next to him on the plane.
He pulls one ear of his headphones aside. “What?”
I sigh and turn in the seat to face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Who said anything is wrong?” Bitchy Wolfe is out in full force, which means something is wrong.
“Do I have to even answer that? We both know I can tell.”
He shrugs and puts his headphones back on. I drop it because, as much as I want an answer, I don’t want us both to play like shit, and maybe it has nothing to do with me. It’s probably his dad or something.
But Wolfe sits with Lovelace on the flight home, which tells me he doesn’t want to talk to me, so I take a seat toward the front of the plane, planning on sleeping.
Seaborn flops down next to me. “I need to talk to you.”
I look him over, seeing the sexuality crisis written all over him. He must still be fucking Ktytor. “I figured after being out both nights. You didn’t even try to fake it the second one.”
“Since you already know…” He glances around like he’s worried anyone is eavesdropping. “I don’t know how to feel about it. I’m struggling.”
“With what?” I ask because I’m going to make him spell it out. Poor little bisexual needs to put his feelings into words.
“Feeling this way.” He looks over his shoulder again.
I roll my eyes. “You didn’t seem too bothered when your dick—”
He cuts me off. “Quiet! No shit. But when it isn’t involved, I…feel crazy.” Seaborn shifts in his seat, clearly more uncomfortable than I first thought. “I obviously don’t have an issue with gay people.” He snaps his mouth shut when I give him a look.
“Good. I’m glad you know when to shut the fuck up.
I don’t think you’re not cool with us. We’ve been friends forever, and you live with me, but…
” I drop my voice because, as much as I want him to act normal about this, I’m not going to out him to the team.
“This is internalized homophobia. It’s fine when it’s anyone but you. ”
He leans in and whispers, “If that is true, then why is he the only one I’ve been attracted to?”
How do I even explain this?
“You’re a victim of compulsory heterosexuality.” I wish they would make everyone take a sexuality class. Christ, it would solve so much gay panic.
“You need to explain that to me when we get home,” he says, cagey as fuck.
I pat him on the head. “Believe me. I will.”
We get back to our place, and Wolfe goes right to his room and closes the door, claiming he has a headache. Now I know that bitch is avoiding me, but I can’t force him to talk to me because I told Seaborn I’d explain.
We go to his room and shut the door. He flips on a movie and picks up our cat.
I sprawl out on his bed, tired from the travel and worrying about Wolfe.
If I’m going to do this, I’m going to be comfy.
“Okay. Compulsory heterosexuality. It’s what you and most everyone else is brainwashed to believe by society.
We are taught to want things like a wife, family, the nine-to-five every waking moment since birth, which coerces us to see every form of intimacy between men and women as romantic and sexual. ”
“Can you really be brainwashed into feelings? Like, it didn’t work on you,” he asks, and I just want to say ‘Bless your heart’ and pat him on the head again.
“People are conditioned to interpret all feelings toward the opposite sex as attraction and the same sex as friendship. But feelings are really more complicated than that. Are they hot, or do you just admire them? Men are expected to hide their feelings or not feel anything but pleasure and anger, so we stomp them down. So when you get the intimacy you’re craving, you think you’re attracted to that person, and in this society, we’re called gay if we get any of that from anyone but a woman.
But the deeper subtext is that we can feel a lot of feelings, including love for people we aren’t attracted to.
“We also need more than one person to fill non-sexual intimacy and connection, which is why so many married people and single men are miserable, but that’s a whole other can of worms I’m not going to get into.
” I roll my eyes but go on. “This is an institution imposed on us through media and heterosexual rhetoric our whole lives, and it’s easier to stay in if you’re bisexual or pansexual.
You don’t have to buck this system or ever explore more options because you fit into the mold.
“It takes work to explore your feelings and emotions to figure out what they mean, so a lot of people don’t.
It’s how people don’t figure out they are bi until they’re like forty and divorcing.
Gay people don’t have that luxury because I’ve known women do nothing for me since I was little, but you didn’t have to explore because you do partly fall into the box the patriarchy wants you in. ”
“Okay, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but then why is this the only time I’ve even been attracted to a guy?
” He looks like he’s trying to do complex math in his head, and I almost feel bad for adding to his identity crisis, but he’s got to figure it out since it looks like he’s going to keep sleeping with Ktytor.
“Did you even know you were attracted to him before you were hitting each other and then making out?” I ask, hoping I can lead this bitch to water.
“Well…no.”
“So you might have confused a feeling for someone as something else, like rage? Or anger? Which are the only feelings that men are taught are acceptable.”
He scoffs, glaring in my direction. “No, he definitely makes me want to rage.”
“But the rage turns you on.” I hold up my hands so he knows I’m not judging him. Because same bitch.
He cringes, which means my guess landed. “Ouch. Just call me out why don’t you?”
“Do you think that’s normal?” I ask. He makes a face, but he’s not arguing, so I go on, “Maybe you’ve ignored it other times because it was subtle, and this one you couldn’t.
Or it only happened because he actually got you to hit him.
Or you’re somewhere on the spectrum closer to straight.
Being bisexual doesn’t mean you’re equally attracted to all sexes—it’s a spectrum for a reason.
” I sit up and put my arm around him, figuring we both need it.
“And I’ve known you were at least a little gay since we started having cuddle parties to watch movies. ”
He leans into me. “A guy secure in his sexuality can do that.”
“Sure, but that’s not the box you fit into.”
“What about Wolfe? Don’t fucking tell me he’s straighter than I am. That might actually offend me.” He glares again.
“Please, he’s not straight either.” I throw back my normal joke about Wolfe, but it hits me in the chest. He kissed me and has always been touchy-feely with me and just comfortable in his sexuality, which is why I’ve always said it. It’s a joke, or at least I need to believe it is.
“You two okay?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I don’t really want to talk about it until I figure it out with Wolfe. “You going to keep seeing Ktytor?”
“I don’t know if I can stop.” His eyes tell me he doesn’t want to stop.
“Do you think that’s a good idea? Not only are you both going to piss off your coaches, but you’re going to end up in different places. You’re both going to be in the first round of the draft. How do you think the pros would feel about you two in a relationship and playing against each other?”
He blows out a breath. “I think we’ve proven fucking is not going to come before the game.”
I consider my words carefully before I speak, “And what will that do to your relationship? You can’t keep up what you’ve been doing.”
“We’re just fucking. It’s not a relationship.”
“Okay,” I say sarcastically. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You know he’s kinda a dick.”
“I’m also kinda a dick.”
“I won’t argue that, but you’re my friend, so I have to be ride or die. And speaking of dicks…” I turn to look at him.
He avoids my eyes, cheeks getting pink. “Don’t ask.”
“Come on.” I pull back further because now I want to know.
“He’s hot, and apparently doesn’t sleep with anyone—I’ve asked around with the puck bunnies.
They thought he was asexual. Their gossip threads are unhinged, and no one knows.
I need the tea because I’m not getting laid, so let me live vicariously through you. ”
“You can’t expect me to know what a good size is—” He’s totally making excuses to not tell me.
I cut him off. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, boy. I know you’ve seen a ton of cock in locker rooms. At least enough to tell me if he’s above average.”
“Not hard.” Also not necessarily true.
“Ronan, give me at least average or…” It’s kind of nice to have another guy into dick on the team to gossip with. This is what I’ve been missing.
He’s getting all worked up just thinking about it. Seaborn is down bad. “It’s above.”
I smirk. I knew it. “How much above?”
“Not as big as me, but thicker…” He shrugs with a smile.
I slap him playfully. “You asshole.”
“What did I do?”
“Got the un-getable, and he’s well endowed. Fuck’s sake. You’re both talented, too? Makes me sick.”
“Shut the fuck up. You can have anyone you want, and you know it.” He pets Venom.
“I’m a picky bitch.” I don’t tell him about Wolfe and my agreement. Maybe I should.
He picks up his phone, and his face drains of color. “Fuck.”
“What?” I lean over, trying to see his phone.
“My aunt just texted me. I’m assuming it’s something with my dad.”
“Fuck. Do you need a ride?” It’s a long ass train ride out of the city, and I’d never let him do that alone.
He turns away like he doesn’t want to ask.
I get up and grab my keys because I’m not going to give him a choice.
Finally, he says, “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not, my love.”
We head to the parking garage. It’s not a long drive, especially at this time of night when the traffic in the city has finally died down.
“Can I do anything else?” I ask when neither of us has spoken.
“Distract me?”
“I can give you more theory about compulsory heterosexuality.” I tease, hoping I can make him laugh.
He groans. “No, I’ve had enough of that. But you can tell me what’s going on with you and Wolfe since you fucking deflected earlier.”
I groan. “There isn’t anything really to talk about.”
“No? Because neither of you is fucking anyone else, and don’t deny it, everyone can hear drunk Wolfe with a chick. There’s been no one sneaking out in the morning. Nothing.”
I guess we are as bad at hiding things as he is. “We decided to pretend to date so he can come to my sister’s wedding with me, but then she made me bring my ‘boyfriend’ to her shower in October, and it’s been a whole thing.” I’m hoping that satisfies him without me going into more detail.
He absorbs the information for a long moment, and I almost think I’ve appeased him, until he speaks. “So what happened there? You two fake-dating. No one is going to believe that, especially him being your sister’s ex without more.”
Fuck.
“We kissed.”
“And?” Seaborn asks, and reality hits me hard.
I really don’t know how my best friend is feeling. I’ve been too in my own head.
“And he’s not into it, but I think he’s mad at me because we are doing this whole thing, and my sister’s fiancé plays for Boston, and now Ridgeway fucking knows.
I promised I wouldn’t embarrass him, but I think it’s making him miserable.
It’s making me miserable. I haven’t got laid in two fucking months.
” I don’t mean for it all to come spilling out, but it does, and I glance over, trying to gauge his reaction.
“I think you need to talk to him. You two avoiding each other isn’t going to help. And frankly, if you play like shit because of it, you’re both fucking yourself.”
He’s right, and I hate him for it.
“Fuck you for being right.”
“I love you too,” Seaborn says.
“If you need anything else or just to talk about your father, call me, okay?” I put my hand on his shoulder before he gets out.
“I will.” Seaborn nods, clearly emotional.
I have way too much time to think on the drive home.
I need to talk to Wolfe, and it can’t wait until morning.