CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE #2
Sebastian looked startled when he glanced back. “No! Not … not in that way. You gave me ample opportunity to say no. I was the one who kept egging you on.”
“Yeah, but—”
Sebastian stepped forward, settling his palms against Luke’s chest. The warmth of them through the fabric, the pressure, made some of the tightness in Luke’s lungs go away.
“Hey,” Sebastian said roughly. “I don’t want you to feel bad about that. The sex was hot. It was my responsibility to stop it once I started to feel conflicted about my friendship with Nicky, okay?”
Luke nodded.
“Instead, I ignored it and ignored it and tried to stuff it down and then lashed out at you for coming on the jersey.”
“Probably shouldn’t have done that,” Luke said gruffly.
“I didn’t mean it to be disrespectful—well, maybe I did.
But I didn’t realize how you’d feel about it.
It just seemed hot at the time. You and I, we’ve had this—this rivalry, right?
This New York vs. Boston thing going and we deliberately wind each other up sometimes. ”
“We do,” Sebastian agreed. “And if I’m being honest, that’s why I wore Nicky’s jersey last night. I could have taken it off before you got to my place, but I knew it would provoke a reaction in you and I—I wanted that.”
“We’re both kinda assholes sometimes,” Luke agreed.
Sebastian chuckled, giving him a faint smile. “Yeah, we are.”
“But I …” Luke glanced up at the ceiling.
“This might sound kinda—kinda crazy but I thought you’d pretend to be pissed but find it funny.
I didn’t really understand how close you and Calhoun were or any of that.
I didn’t know he meant anything to you, except for being a player on a team you root for. ”
“Yeah, in hindsight, I can see that.”
“And you—you always wear your vintage jerseys from your dad. I thought, well, I thought that since this one was new it wouldn’t be as sentimental. I know it fucking sounds nuts, but I thought I was being a decent guy by choosing that one and not one of the ones from your dad.”
For a moment, Sebastian blinked, lips parting but no sound coming out. “Ahh fuck,” he finally managed.
Luke took a chance and reached out, gripping Sebastian’s hips to pull him a little closer. “So I’m sorry. I know you think I’m a piece of shit for what I did to your friend in that playoff game and I’ll own that. I play a tough game and sometimes, I cross the line.”
Sebastian sighed, nodding.
“At the moment it happened, I was flying high on adrenaline, Calhoun had just hacked at one my teammates with a stick and sent him down the tunnel with what we knew was probably going to be a broken wrist. I was pissed. I was out for blood and I didn’t hold back.
I hit him hard and it wasn’t the cleanest hit I’ve ever laid. ”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him as if to say that was an understatement.
“It was dirty, okay? I’ll admit it. I shouldn’t have gone for the cheap shot at his head, probably.
But did you know that after that hit, I sent Calhoun a message saying I hoped he was okay?
And after it was clear he was struggling with concussions and wouldn’t be coming back, I sent him another message saying the game wouldn’t be the same without him? ”
Sebastian shook his head. “No. I didn’t know that.”
“I’m not saying that to fucking … I don’t know, make you think I’m some kind of … perfect, upstanding guy. I’ve always played with an edge, you know that. But I’m not a fuckin’ monster either.”
“I’ve never thought you were a monster,” Sebastian said with a small smile, smoothing his hands across Luke’s chest.
Luke shot him a skeptical glance.
Sebastian lifted his hands. “I mean it. I thought you were a piece of shit, an asshole, and probably several dozen other unkind things before I knew you, but I never thought you were a monster.”
Luke cracked a smile, then continued. “And look, I’ve heard the shit that Gabriel Theriault and his father, Alain, have talked about with CTE lately.
I’m not saying I don’t still play a hard game but have you seen me throw elbows that way since the two of them started talking about brain trauma and shit? ”
Sebastian’s brow furrowed for a moment. “I thought you hated Theriault.”
“I don’t fuckin’ like him,” Luke admitted, opening his mouth and using his tongue to toy with the flipper he had that replaced the tooth Gabriel had knocked out in a fistfight they’d had off ice in Toronto a few years back.
“For a lot of reasons. But that doesn’t mean I’m not listening to the shit he and Alain have said.
Doesn’t mean I’m just out there hitting guys recklessly.
Have I made mistakes? Sure. But I’ve learned some stuff over the years too. ”
Sebastian seemed to consider that for a moment before he nodded.
Luke nodded. “As far as Calhoun and me, we might not like each other, but I think there’s respect there.
I think he views the game the same way I do and accepts that shit like that hit could happen to any of us and it’s a risk we’re going to take.
C’mon, you must get that. You were a hockey player. ”
“I do get that.” Sebastian settled his hands on Luke’s chest again.
“If I’d known what I do now about head injuries, I might have made a different choice back then. I don’t know. It’s real fucking hard to say what would have happened in the heat of the moment. I’d like to tell you I’d do better, but I don’t know.”
Sebastian nodded.
“I can tell you this, if I’d known what I do now about you and Calhoun, I wouldn’t have jerked off on the jersey last night. So, I’m sorry.”
“I get that.” Sebastian slid his hands up over Luke’s shoulders and looped his arms around his neck. “And thank you. I appreciate the apology. And I’m sorry too. I really let things get fucked up last night. I regret that.”
They both fell silent for a few moments, just looking at each other.
“Are we okay?” Luke asked quietly.
Sebastian gave him a faint smile. “Yeah, we’re okay. You really didn’t have to come here this afternoon though. You didn’t have to risk your privacy to come apologize.”
“Maybe I felt like I did,” Luke admitted.
“Why?”
Luke sighed, resisting the urge to pull away.
“I don’t fuckin’ know. All I know is that I—I like what we’ve been doing.
I liked you coming over to my place and hanging out.
I liked helping Brie and Harper out. I like—I guess I like spending time with you.
And I don’t say that to many people. Or really … anyone.”
“Why me?”
Luke gave him a half-smile. “I don’t fuckin’ know.
You drive me nuts with your chirps and shit but I guess I fuckin’ respect that you don’t back down.
That you don’t let me or anyone else scare you.
I like that you have a mind of your own and go after what you want and push back at me and all that. I like you, I guess.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Sebastian said with a smile.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re alright, Crawford.” He squeezed the back of Luke’s neck.
“I think maybe it’s about time you called me Luke,” he said gruffly.
Sebastian’s smile widened. “Luke,” he said softly, and it sounded good on his lips.
“I didn’t like the way we left shit last night,” Luke admitted. “Didn’t like knowing I’d left with you still pissed at me. It felt wrong.”
“That’s why you came here today?”
Luke nodded. “I thought about it all last night.”
“Yeah, me too. I was planning to message you later today. I just knew you’d be busy with practice this morning, so I didn’t want to bother you then.”
“That’s another thing,” Luke said. “I like that you get it. That you know how to give me some fucking space for hockey.”
“It’s your career and it’s important to you.”
“What if I said that maybe you’re starting to be important to me too?”
Sebastian stared at him for a moment, his lips parted. “I’d probably say who the fuck are you and what have you done with Luke Crawford?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know,” Luke said with a laugh, pulling Sebastian a little more tightly to him. “I just know that I felt like shit when I left here. And I didn’t like the thought of not seeing you again.”
“Is that what you thought?” Sebastian asked, tilting his head and studying Luke’s face. “That I was done with you for good?”
“Yeah. I wondered.”
Sebastian swallowed noisily. “I wasn’t. I was pissed but I wasn’t done with you.”
“Good. And c’mere,” Luke said, even though Sebastian was close enough that he could feel every rise and fall of his chest. “Kiss me, Flower Boy.”