Chapter 15
ASHER REYNOLDS
“Goddamnit,” I blow out under my breath. We’re a fucking mess this year. There’s no other way to phrase it more delicately. Not that we’d deserve some kind of platitude, anyway.
I drag my hands down my beard and avert my eyes when Carter gets checked hard into the boards, losing the puck in the process.
I don’t blame the kid, though. Our team looks more like five players who are all playing something that is definitely not a team sport.
I can see what the play was supposed to be, but the left wing–my position–doesn’t skate to the opening that should be created.
It meant that Carter had to hold the puck too long, a mistake he likely won’t make again with that hit.
It’s only our second home game of the season, but the stadium is embarrassingly quiet. We’re down two goals as we kick off the second period, and the Renegades have had a whopping zero shots on goal. The fans haven’t exactly had much to cheer about tonight.
I thought that it would be harder for me to focus on the game instead of Chase tonight, what with my… acknowledgment of my attraction to him. And hell, discovering that I’m not nearly as straight as I’d always believed.
Not straight at all, maybe.
But it’s settled something inside of me. Finally, things make sense.
I’m attracted to Wyatt Chase. I’m attracted to men.
I’ve felt like I’ve been on a tilt-a-whirl for the last three months since the accident, and it’s insane to think that blowing up my understanding of my own sexuality is finally the thing that makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground.
I don’t have classes on Fridays, but I came to campus earlier today and sat in the quad, watching people walk or run to their classes, depending on how late they were.
I watched the men, specifically. Tall guys and short guys and skinny guys and muscular guys. I wanted to understand the feeling that settled low in my stomach whenever a clean-cut, fit guy walked by me.
Desire.
I glanced at them with an appreciation that I’ve never understood before. And it felt fucking incredible. Terrifying and exhilarating, the way that both emotions warred inside of me and made my limbs buzzy.
By the time I got to the stadium for the game a few hours ago, I was more clear-headed than I’ve been in weeks.
Olivia would have found this whole situation hilarious. And if she was still alive, she’d have been the first person that I’d have told. I rub my hand against my chest, almost used to the dull ache that spreads through me like a poison.
Lost in my own world, the crowd at the stadium groans in disappointment at a missed shot from the Renegades.
“At least we proved that we know where the goal is,” a voice says from next to me.
“Kellan?” I stand up and give him a hug, excited that he’s here. But– “What the hell are you doing here? The Nauticals are playing this weekend, right?”
I glance around. The small team box is usually pretty empty since it’s reserved for injured players and staff, so we have the place to ourselves. But still, a pro hockey player showing up, especially a former alumni, would cause a scene if people realized that he’s here.
He sits down in one of the padded chairs next to me, pulling his cap down low. “Wells mentioned that he ran into you yesterday, and I realized that I was over you avoiding me. We had a game last night and another one tomorrow, so I figured that I’d come see your ass for myself.”
I don’t even have time to feel like shit that I’ve been avoiding him because I’m just so fucking happy that he’s here.
I clasp my hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate it. How’d you sneak in without being noticed?
” Kellan literally had his face on banners around the campus last year, so he really is the closest thing to an on-campus celebrity that Radford had.
“I’ve gotten better at flying under the radar,” he says, looking at me. “Living in Radford helps with any extra NHL media attention, though.”
“Except if you decide to come back to campus,” I tease.
“Bobby let me in the back entrance,” he says, referring to an old security guard who’s been with the Renegades for decades at this point. Then he adds, “Heard you hung out with Wells yesterday.”
“Did he tell you what we talked about?” I’m still keeping an eye on the game, but this just became far more interesting.
Kellan shakes his head. “Nope. Just that he ran into you and you guys grabbed a coffee.”
“More like I cornered him and forced him to let me buy him a coffee so that he’d talk to me.”
He lifts a brow. “Oh really?”
“Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been so MIA the past few months.” I’m overcome with needing to make him understand that my shit has been my own and that I appreciate how often he’s checked in with me. A lot of people wouldn’t.
Kellan puts his hand on my shoulder. It doesn’t cause the same spark that I feel whenever Chase touches me, but I lean into the comfort of an old friend. “Dude, you’ve gone through something horrible. You’re still going through it. I’m here whenever you need me for whatever you need.”
I smile. That’s just Kellan. He makes everything seem so simple sometimes. I don’t think he’s ever had a bad word to say about anyone except his former step-father, who I wholly agree is a piece of shit.
I scratch at my beard and smile. “I’m finally coming back to life, I think.” I’m taking everything day-by-day, but more days than not, I feel like I can breathe when I wake up in the morning.
His smile turns brighter. “Good. Just dealing with your grief or working through your recovery plan or… something else?”
My heart starts beating faster. I clear my throat, trying to get my pulse under control. “I’ve been realizing some things about myself recently.”
He looks at me curiously and smirks. “Is this what it used to feel like trying to talk to me? All evasive and shit?”
I laugh. “You were difficult to pin down when you and Wells were getting together.”
“So, it’s about someone? A dude maybe?” Kellan asks. He’s a lot more perceptive than people give him credit for, but still, my mouth opens and then closes. It feels strange to be asked so pointedly.
“Why would you think it’s a guy?” I bat back.
He gives me a knowing stare. “I didn’t until just now.
” He slaps my shoulder, then. “I’m just kidding, man.
I mean, it does make a lot of sense considering how little you’ve ever cared about sleeping with women, but I can’t imagine any reason that you’d want to talk to Wells unless it’s for boxing tips. ”
“It could be about you. And I like Wells,” I feel the need to defend. Granted, I don’t know him all that well, but he loves Kellan, and that’s the most important thing to me.
His eyes are flicking between the game and my face. He settles on me again and says, “Why don’t you bring your new guy to a Nauticals game one night? Maybe it’ll score you some brownie points with him.”
“I’m glad the fame hasn’t gone to your head,” I joke.
“Plus, you’re assuming that he likes hockey.
” And really, I’m sure that Chase–if he wanted–could get tickets to almost any pro game.
I shake my head, trying to figure out how to explain what’s going on without outing him.
“It’s not really like that between us. We aren’t…
anything. He doesn’t even know that I’ve been feeling this way about him. ”
Talking to Wells was one thing, but Kellan is a part of this world. He knows who Wyatt Chase is, and even if he wasn’t a student here while Chase was the physical therapist, I still don’t want to inadvertently say something that could put him in a difficult position.
Kellan shrugs. “So, you’re just going to think about this forever without actually making a move? Sounds like you really are getting back to your old self.”
I hold my hand up to my chest. “Damn, Kellan. Don’t sugarcoat it for my benefit.”
But he’s absolutely right. I think and think and think about things for so long that I never come to a decision about anything. There’s always another variable to consider or data point for me to pull into my understanding. Analysis paralysis.
His face softens. “I’m not trying to be hard on you, especially with everything that you have going on…”
“But?” I ask, knowing that there’s more that he wants to say.
“If you want something, then I think that you should go after it.”
“You don’t even know who I’m talking about. He could be, like, the worst human in the entire world.”
He laughs and shakes his head. “You would never want someone who isn’t also a great person. I’m 100% certain of that.”
I glower at him. “I could be into bad boys.” It feels good–freeing–to joke like this. I’ve always felt uncomfortable talking about women in the locker room, especially since I never really understood what all the fuss was about.
But now, I get it.
I want to talk about Chase all the time. I care what he thinks about me, even though I know I’ve been acting like a crazy person since he’s met me.
Kellan scoffs and says, “Sure thing, bud,” at the same time the stadium erupts in cheers.
Carter scored a goal, Radford’s first of the game.
Kellan gives me an intense high-five, and it makes me miss when we used to play together–how effortless our connection on the ice felt.
Maybe a part of me, outside of all the stuff going on in my life, was worried that things wouldn’t be the same anymore now that we aren’t teammates.
He’s a pro hockey player in the NHL–who also happens to be in a serious relationship–and I’m a dude who doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after college. But we spent three years glued at the hip, and I don’t want to push him away just because I’m uncertain about my place in his life.
I look over at him as play gets underway. His brow is furrowed before he realizes that I’m looking at him. He turns to me and smiles, clearly excited to just be hanging out with me again.