Epilogue #2
The diner Riley had chosen had a great menu, large mugs, and a server who appeared personally invested in whether they ordered enough food. Traffic moved steadily along Fort William Road outside the windows.
“It’s a good city,” Riley said. “It was a favourite spot when I lived here.”
“And now you know all the best gas stations,” Maya teased.
“The Petro on Memorial has the best coffee after eight. The Tim’s on Fort William is reliable. The independent place near the arena is better than both, but it closes too early.”
When the food arrived, Connor moved the pickle from his plate to Caleb’s without asking. Riley pushed the onions from her burger onto Maya’s plate, and Maya ate them while continuing to insist that Riley overcharged her for whisky.
“I charge you what the product is worth,” Riley said. “You’re the one undercharging your regulars.”
“They’re loyal.”
“That’s why they’ll pay another fifty cents.”
Maya stole one of Riley’s fries. “You’ve been waiting all evening to restart this argument.”
“I had charts prepared.”
“Of course you do.”
Maya laughed, full and unguarded. Riley rested her hand on the table between them, and Maya placed her fingers over it as she reached for another fry.
The conversation moved through the Northeasterners’ season, the youth centre’s evening program, everyone’s opinion about Caleb’s second-period backcheck, and the creepy ceramic owls in Caleb’s rented house (Riley was particularly wary of anything owl-related).
Under the table, Connor’s knee remained against Caleb’s.
Near the end of the meal, Maya lifted her coffee towards him.
“You looked like you belonged out there,” she said. “I mean it.”
Caleb touched his mug to hers. “Thanks.”
Outside the diner, the late-September air had turned cold. Riley’s delivery truck was parked near the end of the lot, its empty crates stacked behind the cab.
Riley took out her keys but remained a few steps away while Maya hugged Caleb.
“It still feels like I should be taking you home,” Maya said.
“I get it, but this is home. For now, at least.”
“I know. I’m glad about that.” She tightened her arms around him. “But I reserve the right not to like every part of it.”
“That seems fair.”
“You looked like you belonged out there tonight.”
“You said that already.”
“Then believe it so I can go home without worrying.”
Caleb laughed against her shoulder. “You’re going to worry anyway.”
“Obviously. But now I can worry about ordinary things, like whether you’re eating and if your landlord’s owls are watching you sleep.”
“They’re downstairs.”
“That’s what they want you to think.”
Maya drew back but kept her hands on his arms.
“I’m proud of you, Caleb. For all of it. You let yourself want something, and then you did the work to get here. And I’m not just talking about the hockey.”
“I learned some of that from you. I’m proud of you too.”
“For what?”
“You let Riley put fresh basil in your kitchen.”
Maya gave him a flat expression. “I regret telling you that.”
“I mean you’re letting someone take care of you.”
“She doesn’t take care of me.”
Riley joined them. “I do occasionally.”
“We take care of each other,” Maya corrected.
Caleb smiled. “That’s even better.”
Maya turned to Connor. “You two keep doing that too.”
“We will,” Connor said.
“I know.” Maya took Riley’s offered hand. “Call me tomorrow afternoon. I don’t need to hear from either of you any time before lunch.”
“Maya.”
“I know how hotels work.”
Riley opened the passenger door. “Ready?”
Maya looked once more at Caleb, Connor beside him and the arena lights beyond them.
“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go home.”
She climbed into the truck. Riley went around to the driver’s side, and a moment later they pulled onto Fort William Road. Maya raised one hand through the open passenger window before the truck turned towards the highway.
Connor took Caleb’s hand as they crossed the lot. “Do you still want the hotel?”
“I wanted it before dinner.”
Connor drove the three blocks. Connor carried Caleb’s hockey bag through the lobby and onto the elevator, where Caleb leaned against him. Connor kissed his temple.
On the fourth floor, Connor unlocked the room. Caleb followed him inside, and the door closed behind them.
The hotel was three blocks from the arena, the kind of clean, anonymous place built for road-weary bodies and short nights.
The room smelled of nothing in particular, just warm air and faint laundry soap.
Connor set his keys on the dresser. Caleb dropped his bag by the door.
For a moment they stood there in the quiet.
Connor reached for him first, catching the front of Caleb’s hoodie and pulling him in.
The kiss was slow and familiar, the kind that knew exactly how the other person liked to be kissed.
No urgency. No weight behind it. Just wanting and being wanted here, in this moment where nothing else needed their attention.
They undressed each other without rush. Connor’s palms slid under Caleb’s shirt, broad and warm against bare skin, thumbs brushing over the ridges of his ribs.
Caleb tugged Connor’s Lakehead hoodie off, letting his hands linger on the heavy muscle of his shoulders, the scatter of old scars.
Caleb knew the way Connor’s breath caught when he dragged his nails lightly down his spine, the low pleased sound he made when Caleb mouthed at the base of his throat.
No discovery this time. Just Connor’s breath changing under Caleb’s hands, exactly where Caleb expected it.