21. Hayden
Chapter 21
Hayden
“Make it stop.”
“Hmm?” I roll over, wrapping my arm around the warm body beside mine and pulling it close. “Shh, baby.”
There’s a noise though, a noise not coming from the body— Pope, it’s Pope in my arms —but, that noise…
What is that fucking noise?
“Gaaah!” Pope jerks out of my arms, his hand slapping against the bed a few times, hard enough for me to feel the vibrations through the mattress. Then the noise stops and he sighs in relief. “M’kay, sleep. Night.”
I smirk, pulling him back to me and kissing his hair. I’m pretty sure it’s morning, but I still say, “Night.”
And then the noise is back.
“Fuuuck.” His hand snaps out again, finding his phone right away. His elbow nearly takes out my nose as he maneuvers the device to his ear. “This better be fucking important, Jules.”
Jules’s voice is distant, but loud enough for me to hear, “Well, I just met your parents.”
Pope jolts upright, nearly dropping the phone. “You what? ”
I sit up as well, leaning closer to openly eavesdrop. “Your parents just showed up about ten minutes ago, looking to surprise you. Apparently they’ve got tickets to the game?”
“Fuck. I— fuck .” After untangling himself from the blankets, Pope launches off the bed and begins looking around frantically. “What’d you tell them?”
The fear in his voice guts me. I force myself to remember that this is new for him. We’re new. It’d be kind of miraculous if he was ready to come out to his family so soon. It’s not surprising that he’s freaking out. It still hurts, though. Just a little in the chest.
“That’s fine. Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.” Pope tugs his sweatpants on one handed, eyes searching for his shirt. Except he didn’t wear a shirt, just his sweatshirt that’s still out in the living room. “Don’t let them see my room. It’s a mess. My mom will have my ass.”
Despite the chaos of the moment, that makes me smile. Pope hangs up and shoves the phone into his pocket, still looking distressed.
“Your sweatshirt is still in the living room,” I explain. His eyes snap to me, his chest heaving as he tries to breathe. I give him what I hope is a comforting smile. “Just let me get some clothes on and I can drop you off.”
He tilts his head at me, eyebrows pulling in. “Drop me off?”
“I drove you here, remember?” I turn away, opening the top drawer of my dresser. This isn’t a conversation I want to have naked. “It’s okay. They won’t know anything. I won’t even come up to the apartment. You can say the girl you hooked up with dropped—”
“I’m not lying to them,” he says, cutting me off.
My hand squeezes the shirt I just pulled out. “What?”
“Hayden.” He grabs my shoulder, gently pulling until I turn to face him. His breathing is calm again. He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? Wasn’t he just panicking? “They’re my parents. I want them to meet you.”
“As—as the team’s AT?”
“As my boyfriend .”
My knees go wobbly. It’s pathetic, really. I’m a grown-ass man. But those words, especially in this context, just… yeah. I’m officially a goner. “Really?”
“Jules told them I was at the rink, but I don’t want to lie. I’ll tell them I was with you. But you have to come with me to meet them because if I say I was with you and don’t have you there with me, my mom will drag me by the ear all the way here to meet you herself.”
My heart does a stupid flip. I have medical training, I know that’s not possible, but I swear it fucking flips. “Yeah?”
His smile widens. “Yeah.”
“You’ll be coming out to them,” I find the need to add, just in case that hasn’t sunk in. It’s early, after all. He might not be thinking clearly.
“I know.” He wraps a hand around the side of my neck, using the hold to pull me to him. I go easily, suddenly not so concerned about dominance. I’m just desperate to be kissed by him. It’s like a soothing balm as our lips touch. It’s a reassurance. A promise. “Come meet my parents, Hay. Please?”
I nearly laugh. How could I possibly say no? “Okay.”
I haven’t been this nervous to meet someone’s parents since—well, possibly ever. Most guys I hooked up with in high school were closeted, so it didn’t matter. Anyone in college lived far enough away from their family where they didn’t bother unless it was serious enough to bring me home, which it never was. The only long-term relationship I had after that was Eddison, and though I did meet his parents, I didn’t feel anything like this. Mostly because by the time I met them, he’d made me feel like such shit I didn’t have it in me to care.
“You look very handsome,” Pope teases me as we walk down the hall of his apartment building.
I try not to blush, but the heat I can feel from my cheeks means I’m failing. Damn him. “It’s just an outfit.”
“The fourth one you tried on,” he points out, his green eyes bright and happy. “But sure, just an outfit.”
“You’re not allowed to be a shithead when I’m freaking out,” I mumble, not sure how close we are to his door. I’ve never been to his apartment before.
He chuckles. “Okay, okay. Sorry. You really do look nice, though. Promise.”
“Thank you.” I nervously tug at my coat, hoping it’s not too much. My only options were my dressy wool peacoat or the obnoxious puffer jacket Ian bought me as a joke. I at least went with a nice pair of dark jeans and a cashmere sweater underneath, wanting to seem casual.
Before I can worry further, Pope is stopping at a door and unlocking it. I have enough time to think oh god before it swings open to reveal a small apartment, a kitchen to the left with an island covered in jars of protein powder and vitamins, and a living room to the right with— oh god .
Breathe, Hayden. Breathe.
The man and woman seated on the leather couch spring to their feet, hurrying toward us with huge grins and open arms. I step back as they bombard Pope, unable to help my smile at the scene. I like seeing him so loved. I plan on drowning him in it for as long as he’ll let me, but the extra help is nice.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming!” Pope says in exasperation as his dad rubs his back and his mom kisses his cheek. “I hate surprises.”
“I know, I know. It was a last-minute decision.” His mom tsks, taking his hat from him and running a hand through his messy hair. I’m thankful we showered before passing out last night. At least I know I didn’t bring them their son smelling like sex. “You need a cut. And this hat needs to be washed.”
“Mom,” Pope whines, his hand lightly smacking hers away from his head. He doesn’t try to get the hat back. The man must know his limits. “I’m an adult , you know.”
“Are you? Your room looks like a teenager’s.”
“Jules!” Pope says with a dropped jaw and a glare.
Jules puts up his hands, though he’s smirking. “I wasn’t gonna tell your mom no, man.”
“Do you not have a laundry machine or do you just make it a game to go through all of your clean clothes before washing any?”
“Some of those clothes are clean, they’re just not put away.”
She tosses her hands up in exasperation. “And let me guess, you smell them to see which is which?”
Pope’s dad snorts a laugh and defends him with a, “Well, yeah.”
“Don’t you start—” she stops halfway into scolding her husband, a finger pointed at him. She stops because she just noticed me. Her eyebrows raise. “Oh. Hello. Who are you?”
I swallow, my eyes darting to Pope. I’m not sure if the look is more of a help me please or a this is your last chance to change your mind. He treats it like the first, stepping away from his mom and placing a warm, comforting hand on the small of my back. I can’t help but notice that his dad’s eyes zero in on the touch.
“Mom, Dad, this is Hayden.” Pope gives me a smile that’s nervous, but not panicked. I force a smile back in an attempt to make him feel better. His cheeks pink a little. God, he’s beautiful. “He’s my boyfriend.”
I can’t describe the moment as you could hear a pin drop because Jules’s gasp is way too loud. Both Pope and I turn to him with matching confusion. “You already knew, dude.”
Jules puts a hand to his chest like he’s going to swoon. “No one told me it was official . The b word and everything!”
“Oh, honey…” his mom whispers, drawing our attention back to her. I can’t read her expression entirely, but there’s sadness in it.
Fuck.
When I brave a look over at his dad, I find something similar, alongside concern.
Double fuck.
“That’s great, son,” the man says.
Wait, what?
“So great,” his mom agrees. “Oh, honey. I’m so happy for you!” She throws her arms around Pope again, squeezing him surprisingly hard for such a small woman.
His dad steps into the hug like last time, hand on Pope’s back. He looks over at me. I feel frozen. At least, until his face softens with a smile. He pulls away from his wife and son to offer me a hand. I’m thankful I’ve got my shit together enough not to be shaking as I accept it.
“Nice to meet you, sir,” I say in a miraculously firm and even voice.
“Call me Cal. It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Wait, me!” Pope’s mom squeaks before practically shoving both her son and husband out of the way so she can wrap her arms around me. “Hi! I’m Grace!”
I chuckle, relief making me dizzy. “Hi, Grace. It’s nice to meet you.”
She pulls back to cup my face, making a soft sound, then turns to Pope again. That sadness returns to her expression as she places a hand on his cheek. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry we made you feel like you couldn’t tell us. All those years…”
Pope blinks at her before his eyes widen in understanding. “ Oh . No, no, that’s not—I wasn’t hiding it. I wasn’t—I didn’t know . I still like girls. I’ve always liked girls. Guys too, I guess? I never thought about it.”
“Until him?” she asks in a tone that can only be described as awww.
Pope’s face goes red, but he nods. “Yeah. Until him.”
“Okay, but… your mother brought us to Pride parades,” his dad points out. “How did you not…?”
“Cal!” Grace scolds.
“No. That’s fair. I—well, I guess I thought…” Pope groans and puts a hand over his face. My heart melts a little more for the awkward boy. “I thought good for them, those guys are wicked hot . I never thought, wait, I want those wicked hot guys myself. ”
Cal grins. “Until you met this wicked hot guy.”
“Oh my god, Dad! ”
“What? We’re just trying to understand the facts, son.”
His mom nods with a feigned solemn look on her face. “Facts are important, honey.”
“You too are insufferable.”
“Are we?” His mom tilts her head, now smiling sweetly. If she actually wants an answer, it’s clear she doesn’t care what it is. Then her face lights up. “Oh, Hayden, you must come out to eat with us!”
“Oh, I’d—” I pause, glancing over at Pope. I don’t want to just hijack his time with his parents. He’s too busy trying not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment though, leaving me on my own. “I’d love that, ma’am.”
“ Grace ,” she reminds me with a wag of her finger.
“Not to be that guy,” Jules says from his spot a few paces away from the rest of us. “But I’m feeling very unloved over here.”
Grace hurries over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Jules, dear, you can come too. Of course.”
“That’s okay.” Jules laughs, his cheeks a little pink now too. “I was just messing around. You guys have fun.”
“Nonsense. I insist. It’s a family meal and for how much Pope talks about you, you deserve to be included in it.”
Jules puts a hand on his chest again, his eyes fluttering obnoxiously at Pope. “You talk about me?”
“Easy, son,” Cal chides, giving Jules a little pat on the back in consolation. “He’s taken.”
“ Oh my god, Dad! ” Pope says, his exasperation only getting worse.
Cal shrugs with a not-so-innocent innocent smile. “What?”
“You—ugh.” He steals his hat back from his mom with an adorable pout that I want to— well, no, okay, not thinking about that with his parents in the same room, just kidding. He tugs the hat on backward and sighs deeply like this whole experience has been traumatic. “What do you mean we’re going out to eat? Now?”
“Oh, definitely not now,” Jules says with a wince. “We—uh, we have practice?”
“We do,” Pope agrees. Usually morning skates on a game day are optional, but Ian is still pissed about their behavior at Wednesday’s game and made it mandatory. He conveniently doesn’t mention that part to his parents. I wonder if they stream the games. I wonder if his mom will give him a verbal lashing on his behavior. It might be amusing to watch, if she does. “We could do a really fast breakfast? Or a late lunch after practice? We have a good chunk of time before we have to be at the arena tonight.”
“Let’s do that, then. Late lunch.” His mom turns to me with a smile. “Are you busy? Maybe you could come explore the town with us while they practice?”
Pope swoops in for the save on that one. “He has to be at the arena, too. He’s usually really busy on game days getting things ready.”
“Oh darn! I was hoping to steal you away from my boy and have you all to myself for a while,” she teases, waggling her eyebrows to make it clear she’d be up to no good if she managed that. It’s probably for the best that she can’t. I have a strong feeling Pope’s parents aren’t in on his secrets either and I’d hate to be given the third degree. Not that I have much information to divulge, but still.
“Why don’t you guys check out the town and come to the arena at one?” I offer. “Then Ethan can show you around and introduce you to his team while I finish up with any players who need me after practice and we can all squeeze in a meal. My intern can handle things for an hour.”
Grace bounces on her feet, apparently having all of the energy her son often seems to struggle to find. “Perfect!”
“Perfect,” I agree.
“Perfect,” Pope echoes, his eyes darting to the left and right as he adjusts his cap. I’m not sure if he’s avoiding looking at me or his parents. Either way, I’m not a huge fan of the reaction. Did I overstep? Was his comment about me being too busy on game days meant to keep me from being able to go? Is there some reason he doesn’t want me spending time with him and his parents?
What I wouldn’t give to spend a single minute inside this man’s head.
Maybe then I’d finally understand him.