Chapter 30 Wolfe
THIRTY
WOLFE
Ifucking want him. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being inside Archangel since we talked about it, but we haven’t had time. We left for back-to-back games as soon as we got home. We aren’t in the same room anymore traveling, so we don’t get any alone time.
We have three days home before we leave for more games, and I’m determined not to waste them, but I can’t figure out how to approach it.
He retreats back into his shell as soon as we leave Georgia, and I can’t bear it happening again.
I know a lot of this is for show in front of his family and to stick it to his sister, but the more we do this, the more I want him to see me.
It’s our only day without practice, and we’ve spent it in each other’s company, but mostly in silence. Most of the day is already gone, and we’ve barely spoken. No progress or even just a simple conversation. I need a new plan.
After a snack, I climb back into bed, driven by the fading daylight to make something happen. Anything.
He’s laying on his stomach, feet in the air, scrolling on his phone. I lay on my side watching.
I’m so fucked.
I still can’t figure out in my brain how this happened. It was just a thing, and now I’m up to my neck and can’t figure out how to tell him.
“Let’s go do something.” I’ve been thinking about it since we got home, and the only conclusion I can come up with is a date. Or lots of dates. Show him we can do it.
He drops his phone and rolls to his side to face me. “It’s our only day off and colder than a witch’s tit, and you want to go outside?”
“Yes.” I stroke a finger over his hip.
“Why? What could possibly be enticing you?” He’s leery but doesn’t pull away from my touch.
“It’s our only day off. Tomorrow will be full, and then we leave the next day. I don’t want to waste the day.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Why?”
“Because I want to spend time together, just you and me.” I hold my breath.
His brows lift. “Just the two of us?”
“Yes.” If he asks, I’ll have to tell him the truth. I just hope he doesn’t.
“What are we doing?” He shoves out of bed, going to his closet, which is a good sign.
“I’m not telling you.”
“You look good,” Archangel side-eyes me as we wait for the train.
I’m in the new forest green herringbone coat he bought me for the holidays, and a scarf from his mother.
He lets his gaze linger, and I’m not looking away.
He’s in wide-leg jeans with big rips in the knees, and fishnets under.
One of my favorite things he wears. It’s such a tease to get a flicker of it when he moves.
I turn, adjusting discreetly, but he sees and gives me a questioning look.
I lift my shoulders and nod at him. He points at himself as the train approaches.
I walk toward him, my chest bumping into his as the doors open.
He steps back onto the train, not looking away.
I join him, but he’s only given me enough space to barely get on board, pressing our chests together.
I don’t move to the side, I stay there, squeezed between him and the door.
“Yes, you.”
“Why?” He tilts his face up.
“Are you kidding?” I ask.
How can he not see it? Does he even realize how hot he is?
“Why?” he asks again, clearly not getting any of it.
“I can’t believe you have to ask. Do you remember our conversation last week?”
It dawns on him, and maybe he gets how hot he is. “Are you still thinking about that?” he asks carefully.
“How could I not when you’re here?”
He smiles, but only slightly, lifting up on his toes, rubbing his body against me in the process. “Anyone could see us.”
I suck in a breath, my cock getting harder. “And?”
“And what if they take a picture or someone recognizes you?”
I slip my hand into his. “I knew that risk when we started this.”
“We thought it wouldn’t get out.” He glances at our hands.
“With Mark knowing that was foolish.”
“But it’s better kept contained.” Does he not want to be seen with me?
What is he worried about? Surely he’d rather be out than us hiding? He said he likes bigger guys who can toss him around. I have that going for me. So why isn’t he into it?
I need to show him I could be an amazing boyfriend, so he sees me as more than a friend.
We get off the train near the edge of Central Park, taking the stairs up.
He looks around. “What do you want to do in the park?”
I smirk, leading him by the hand into the park and taking the winding path until we come upon the roller disco. “It’s Pride Night.”
He glances around before turning back to me. “You want to skate on our one day off skating?” But he doesn’t say it meanly. He’s smiling.
“It’s not the same.” I offer my hand. “This is for fun.”
“If you break an ankle…”
I press my lips together, giving him a flat look. “I’m not going to break an ankle.”
He puts his hand in mine. “You really want to be out here in the open, on Pride Night.”
I drag him to the skate rental booth. “Will you stop fucking asking me that? You’re acting like the one in the closet.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then why are you so worried?”
He starts to answer, but we’re next in line and asked for our sizes.
“Fourteen,” I say, praying they’ll have the ridiculous size or at least close.
The guy behind the counter grits his teeth. “Maybe. Let me check.” He hesitates. “Wait, aren’t you, Wolfe?”
I wink. “Different kind of skating today.”
His expression morphs from shock to excitement. “Love it. We love having you at Pride Night. Not many hockey guys come to stuff like this.”
“I’m happy to be here.”
“Inline or skates?” He takes Archangel’s size, recognizing him as well, then ducks further into the tent to get the skates.
“Inline. I’m not learning something new!” I laugh, and Archangel agrees.
“If I let you kill yourself, Coach Hawke and my family will never forgive me.”
The guy comes back with skates in my size, and I’m impressed. “We got you.”
“Those don’t look like the rest of the skates,” Archangel says.
I elbow him. “Thank you.”
The guy laughs. “Can’t let our goalie have pinched toes.”
Archangel rolls his eyes so hard. “He went and took those from someone.”
“Or borrowed!”
“Let’s hope he borrowed.” We take the skates over to the bench and switch them out for our shoes.
“What does a Pride Night involve?” I shove my shoes in the cubby under me but don’t get up right away. Getting up from a low bench as a person my size is difficult without attaching wheels to my feet.
“Wait, can you even skate?” Archangel looks at me like it’s the first fucking time he’s seeing me.
“What? I’m on that ice with you every day.”
“You do stay in the goalie box. I’m not sure I have any proof of your ability to skate…” He fights a smile but his dimples are out and I want to kiss them.
I hold up my middle finger. “I cannot believe how little faith you have in me.”
He offers a hand, and I take it, because I really don’t want to be the guy who twisted his ankle a month before the playoffs. He lets go of my hand, but eyes me suspiciously.
I cross my arms. “I’m fine. See? Now are you going to tell me what to expect at Pride Night?”
“It’s like any other night, just gayer.” He laughs, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s holding back or telling me the truth. “Let yourself experience it.”
It’s just getting dark when we go out on the rink.
They have a DJ playing, with a more famous one starting later.
All types of people filter in, a lot of them in rainbows, and all of them are happy and laughing.
Lots of couples and affection. The opposite of how anyone in hockey is. Even on our team.
This is what Archangel’s denying himself.
Or maybe he has it in other ways in his life, but not to this extent.
He spends a lot of his time with me. Is this what he has to give up for our friendship?
And maybe that’s why he doesn’t want to be with me, because how could we have both?
While I could see professional hockey tolerating some gayness, this would be too far.
“Wolfe.”
I look up. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“Are you ready?” I nod, and we skate out onto the rink as neon lights come on, painting us in rainbow colors while Queen blasts over the speakers.
We get into it, dancing and singing along with the rest of the crowd. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time. We get drinks from the bar, and drunk skating opens another entire world of joy. I don’t think we’ve ever laughed so much.
The music slows, and Angel turns, skating backward as I recognize Second Star.
I get closer, offering my hand like so many of the other couples are doing.