Chapter 40 James
It’s already move-in day—five a.m. Sunday, to be exact, which means our time is almost up. Once Cory and his family move in, it’s bye-bye secret apartment hook-ups, hello back seat of the car. Still fun. Just squishier.
Since we’ve only eaten and fucked all weekend, the fridge is barren, so I’ve ordered-in some breakfast from a deli around the corner.
It’s run by two Melbournites, and they do a mean Aussie Cafe brekkie.
I’ve gone with an egg and bacon sandwich, and a couple of sneaky slices of avocado toast, that I’ll be eating while standing because it feels like my ass is on fire.
While Cory, who’s drifted back to sleep, chose the traditional USA takeout—donuts and coffee.
Pausing my doom scroll on my phone, I send a check-in message to Faith.
She’s finally finished her grading, and was kind enough to give me a break this weekend.
Once that’s done I get all creepy and watch Cory sleep, in particular, the steady rise and fall of his chest.
I should probably wake him. Coach and the rest of the boys will be here at seven, and we have to shower, change the bedding and open up some damn widows, ‘cause this place smells more like a medieval whorehouse than a million dollar apartment.
Thing is, he looks so cute all wrapped up in the duvet.
I know our future is complicated, but he really is the most beautiful creature. How did I get so lucky?
A touch of melancholy hits as the door bell rings, signaling our last meal. “Cory. Mate, wake up. The food is here.” After placing maybe twenty kisses to his perfect upturned nose, I slip from bed, toss on my sweats and head to the door.
Gaze on the carpet, I swing the door open and bend to pick up the bags … that aren’t there. What is, though, are pristine white Nikes that look eerily similar to the ones Coach Harris practically lives in.
“Morning, James. Worked up a sweat already, have we?”
“Coach!” Giving myself a head spin, I bolt upright, almost knocking him over in the process. He’s early. Forty-five minutes early. Thank God I’m not naked.
Though, you’d think I was , if Coach’s expression is anything by.
Slightly puzzled, I scratch my chest.
My shirtless chest.
The one with Cory’s bofrend carved into it.
Oh dear.
In the blink of an eye, my boss has gone from his usual complexion to one redder than Mars, and it only intensifies as booming laughter from a dozen or so hockey boys fill the hall.
While I tried hard to ignore how his fists have clenched, Coach shoots a glance in that direction then turns back to me.
“I’m trying very hard to not jump to conclusions right now, James.
” His voice, disturbingly calm and eerily similar to Hannibal Lecter, sends a chill to my very soul.
“I think I deserve an explanation, but it’ll have to wait.
I’ll hold these fools off for ten minutes and I suggest you, and anyone else who may be here, make yourselves decent.
” With that, he shakes his head and turns to walk away.
“Thanks, Coach.”
“Don’t ever call me that again.”
Swallowing the rising sea of bile I feel like I’m drowning in, I close the door and fall against it, my forehead landing squarely on the peep hole, that had I used, may have averted this crisis. “Oww.”
Rumination wastes valuable seconds and only ends when a ping on my phone coincides with a violent knocking on the door.
Again. “Oww.” This time it’s the food for sure, the smell wafting under the door has my empty stomach rumbling.
Pity there’s no time to enjoy it. After surveying the hall for stray hockey players, I snatch the bag from the floor, let the door close once more, and make my way to the bedroom.
Cory, who’s rather spectacularly naked and star-fished in the dead center of the bed, is still asleep.
Nothing would make me happier than to slide in beside him and pretend our world wasn’t about to implode, but I just don’t have that luxury.
It hits me then, as I rest my palm on the small of his back, that this may be the last time I get to see him like this, and a small part of my heart breaks away, becoming lost in that sea of nausea.
“Cub. Cub,” I whisper, lightly shaking him despite the urgency of the situation. “I’m sorry mate, but you have to wake up.”
“No,” he grumbles, voice heavy from sleep. “You have to un-wake up.”
“Can’t I’m afraid. Coach is already here, Cub. He saw what’s left of my chest hair. He knows. We’ve only got a few minutes before he brings the team up.”
Cory is one of the fastest skaters I’ve seen, but nothing he’s done on ice could compare to the way he moves out of that bed.
“You’re fucking with me,” he scoffs disbelievingly while also whipping his briefs off the floor, and hopping into them.
“You’re not clutching your chest, or sweating, and I hear no screaming.
He would definitely be screaming if he knew. ”
“See, I thought that too, but it was even worse. He was calm. Scarily so. Maybe that’s why I am, too.”
“Oh, we’re fucked.” Warranted panic ensues.
Dressing as we go, we race around the apartment, tidying and opening windows before meeting back in the bedroom, red-faced and panting and not in a good way.
“Maybe we can tell him it was just a joke? What rhymes with Bofrend. Kofend? Lofend? Weekend! We can say it was supposed to say Cory’s weekend. ‘Cause it’s my birthday. It’s perfect.”
The sneaker I was sliding my foot into drops to the floor. “That is not perfect. It’s quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah, I know. Shit. We’re fucked.” The wall-to-ceiling window that overlooks Chestnut Hill Reserve shakes as he slumps against it.
Beholding such a beautiful man back lit by an equally beautiful backdrop is something I’d normally appreciate as one would art in a gallery, but now’s not the time.
Instead I take a mental picture, and lock it safely away for another day.
Cory seems to realize his position too and turns to peer outside. “Damn. No fire escape. How far up are we, do you think? Jumpable? Looks like it might be. I reckon I could—”
I wander over to the window, wrap my arms around his waist and drop my head against his shoulder. “You’re not jumping, Kid. If you think Coach is going to kill me now, imagine what he’d do if I let his star player break every bone in his body.” His body melts into mine as he sighs.
The chance to reply is stolen by the sound of a dozen or so brutish hockey players, and one frustrated Irish catholic woman pounding on the front door. “Cory it’s the boys and your mom. I can’t find my damn key, Honey. Let us in.”
“Yeah, Honey.” Chorus the idiots. “Let us in.”
Turning in my arms, Cory stands on his tip toes and kisses me. It sweet and soft, and so fucking sad I could cry. “Whatever happens, even if I get kicked off the team, this weekend, and every thing that came before it, has been totally worth it.”
Fuck, I hope he means that.
Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, before what may be the last on his lips. “I love you, Cub.”
“I love you too, Jamie.”
The most awkward moving day ever has come to a close. The team is finishing the last of the pizzas we had delivered. Everything has been carried in, set up and packed away with quite remarkable efficiency and a surprising lack of breakage.
What’s not in tact though, is the relationship, perhaps friendship I built up with David Harris.
The man has barely looked at me all day, and when he did I was met with a cold stare reminiscent of a great white shark.
Cory has fared a little better. Harris has actually referred to him by name instead of grunting in his general vicinity.
He’s also made damn sure Cory and I were never left alone for more than a few seconds.
I miss him so much already it hurts. I’m not sure if that’s romantic or sad.
Maybe it’s both.
Either way it is what it is and now that the food is gone, and everything is in place, it’s done. Billie’s sleeping soundly in her cot. Deirdre is tucked up beneath a blanket on the sofa, and Cherry, well Cherry is making eyes at Sam as she has been all day.
“That’s it boys,” Coach declares as he crushes the last of the moving boxes. “Time to let the Malkovich’s enjoy their new home.”
“I don’t know how to thank you, David. You too, boys,” Deirdre says around a yawn as she attempts to unfold her self from her cocoon.
“Please, don’t get up,” he says, flashing her a smile I can’t imagine receiving any time soon. “You’ve had to pack up your life in a week. You must be exhausted. I’m just glad we could help.”
“Help you have. You’re a wonderful man. Cory has been blessed to have you watch over, protect and mentor him.”
On our way to the door, David pulls me and Cubby aside. “I want both of you in my office at nine tomorrow.”
“We can do earlier if you like,” Cory says with more enthusiasm than I can muster right now. “I’ll be there at seven for training.”
“No you won’t,” Harris mutters over his shoulder while marching to the door. “Consider yourself suspended.”
“Suspended! How long for?”
“Let’s give it a conservative, as long as it takes for me to look at you and not strangle you. How’s that sound?”
Cory and I exchange side-eyed consolations. “Sounds perfect, Coach.”
He walks out, and I linger, hoping to squeeze one more moment with Cory out of this lemon of a day. There’s no hope though, not with David watching me like a hawk.
“See you tomorrow,” Cubby says
“Tomorrow.”