Chapter 12
TYLER
DUCKING. DUCK.
Before having Rowan, Tyler had believed his friend community would always be there. That they were the kind of people who could transcend the phases of life. Even when Falcon was pregnant, their friends had seemed excited to welcome a baby into their midst.
Of course, things didn’t turn out that way.
Now, he found himself in a professional hockey locker room where the kids all helped each other with their gear. One of Sergei and Mila’s boys, Sasha, had offered to unlace Rowan’s skates, and now Stef and Rowan were both dragging around a pair of sticks they’d found in Jamie’s locker.
This was the kind of thing Tyler hadn’t let himself want. But now that he was here, in the room, his heart ached.
The Muskies were a family.
It was amazing, really, seeing Jamie here.
It was his job, sure, but it was obviously so much more than that.
Jamie looked perfectly at home surrounded by the small group of his teammates.
Mitch had brought enough snacks to feed all the kids.
Jamie pulled the tops off of strawberries for Rowan, and Tyler stared at Jamie’s mouth.
Fuck, that man’s mouth.
Jamie’s mouth was going to haunt him. The way his lips drew together in a frown that softened every time Rowan called him Jamie. That thick blonde mustache–would it tickle his skin if they kissed? Would it catch against the shadow of afternoon stubble around Tyler’s mouth?
Tyler felt a part of himself wake up, alert and buzzing and hungry–really fucking hungry.
It was getting harder to remember all of the reasons why he didn’t have time for somethings with green-eyed hockey captains.
Especially when Jamie was gentle with his son. Especially when he pretended to feast on carrots with them at the Children’s Museum. Especially when he used those big, steady hands to teach Rowan to skate.
Or when he’d placed a hand on Tyler’s lower back.
Rowan started rubbing his eyes. Tyler needed to broach the subject of leaving to Jamie, who was laughing loudly with Mitch about something. He didn’t want to bother him, didn’t want to pull him away from this moment with his teammates.
As if reading his mind, Jamie looked over at Tyler, glanced at Rowan, and his mouth tipped up into a soft, understanding smile. “We should probably get going,” Jamie said, reaching over and hugging Mitch. “Gotta get these guys home.”
Tyler was speechless as he packed their things. He said goodbye to Mitch, Sergei, and Mila, and then Jamie was ushering them down the hall toward the entrance.
Rowan grabbed his hand, like he always did, but then he reached out for Jamie’s hand too. Tyler’s chest tightened, and he watched Jamie smile down at Rowan like he really, truly cared about him.
The drive home passed quickly, Rowan talking a million miles a minute about skating and the kids and how cool it was when Mila did the splits. As Jamie pulled to a stop in front of their place, Rowan let out a loud yawn.
“Papa?”
Tyler unbuckled his seatbelt and looked back. “Yeah, kiddo?”
“Can Jamie come inside and read me a story after supper?”
Tyler turned to Jamie, who was already nodding. Careful to keep his voice a whisper, he asked: “You sure?”
Jamie’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. He nodded again.
“Okay, Row.”
“You don’t have to do the dishes,” Tyler said for what felt like the hundredth time.
Jamie just shrugged, his hands covered in soap. “I know.”
Tyler sighed. He’d made them a quick supper of black bean tacos and leftover roasted veggies. It was simple, but Jamie had raved about the meal.
Jamie had also refilled Rowan’s water bottle, gotten a napkin wet to wipe the smeared beans from Rowan’s cheek, and insisted on doing the dishes.
Tyler had protested, but Jamie hadn’t been deterred. Fucking stubborn hockey captain.
At that point, Rowan was exhausted, and, with Jamie trailing behind them, they’d started their typical bedtime routine.
Getting a toddler ready for bed with an audience, especially one as exciting as Jamie, proved to be challenging.
At least Jamie tried to be helpful, telling Rowan that Muskies had to be good teammates and listen to their papas.
There had been a brief meltdown over brushing teeth, but they’d gotten it done.
Jamie looked huge in their home. His shoulders almost filled the hallway, and the old wood floor creaked every time he moved.
Now, Rowan climbed up to the pile of pillows on Tyler’s queen bed, flopping back in his yellow and green striped pajamas. He patted the bed beside him. “Jamie sits here. Papa, you sit in your spot.” He patted the other side.
“You sure about this?” Jamie asked quietly.
Tyler shot him a smile. There was no point in protesting now. Jamie had proved himself, and who was he to argue if Rowan wanted him there? “You heard the man. Get up there.”
They barely fit. Tyler could tell Jamie was trying to not take up too much space until Rowan grabbed a handful of Jamie’s sweater and insisted he “get cozy.”
Jamie read “The Very Hungry Caterpillar," and they all laughed at his dramatic interpretation of the page where the caterpillar ate its way through about seventeen different foods.
When Jamie closed the book, Rowan’s head was resting on his shoulder.
Tyler felt…He didn’t know what he felt. Whatever it was, it was warm and full and it scared the shit out of him. Like he was hovering right at the edge of a dream where all he had to do was jump, and everything he’d ever wanted waited out of sight below.
“Thank you for the skating, Jamie,” Rowan said around another yawn. Tyler scooped him up into his arms, smiling as he felt Rowan’s little body sink into his hold.
“Of course, buddy.” Jamie got up from the bed. “I had a blast hanging out with you.”
“Feel free to head out if you want,” Tyler said softly to Jamie. “Or you could hang out on the couch. It shouldn’t be too long.”
Jamie nodded, running a hand through his blonde hair.
It took a minute for Rowan to settle, as he was predictably wired from an eventful evening. He was humming and talking to himself in his bed, so Tyler settled down on the beanbag chair, pulling a fleece blanket over his legs.
Hopefully, Rowan would go down fast.
Hopefully, Jamie would still be there.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled the blanket over his head before he pulled it out.
Jamie
I’m hanging on the couch. No rush.
Tyler
Thank you for today.
Jamie
Of course. It was my pleasure.
Tyler
Why are you doing this?
He probably could have been more tactful in his delivery, but he needed to know.
Everything about Jamie was throwing him off balance.
He was showing up in their lives like he wanted to be there, participating in activities with Rowan and giving Tyler his old sweatshirt.
The sweatshirt was soft, and he already knew he’d never want to take it off.
People didn’t just do things like that, right?
Jamie
I can go if you want.
Tyler
That’s not what I said.
I’m here because I want to be.
But why?
This is hard to text.
Try?
Okay.
We met because I was a ducking idiot.
Ducking.
Duck.
FUCK
Tyler buried his face into the crook of his elbow, stifling his laughter so he wouldn’t wake Rowan up. There was a giddiness in his chest, a nervous anticipation that was both terrifying and exciting.
You okay over there?
Shut up.
Lol.
I’m trying to say that I’m interested in you.
I don’t know.
Maybe it’s just me.
Tyler’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. This was on him now. He’d been the one to draw the boundaries. He’d been the one, over and over again, saying there wasn’t enough time.
All of that was still true. Nothing had changed, but…
It’s not.
***
It’s not just you.
Tyler stared at his screen, waiting, waiting, waiting.
Nothing.
No response.
Had he misunderstood what Jamie meant? Oh god, what if he’d just proclaimed interest in someone who was just trying to be nice to a struggling single dad?
Rowan had fallen asleep a few minutes ago. Tyler locked his phone, pulled off the blanket, and carefully tip-toed to the door. He opened and closed it carefully, and then ducked into his room, grabbing the baby monitor from the milk crate he used as a bedside table.
Jamie was sitting there on the couch, his expression unreadable as Tyler came to a stop in front of him.
Before he could second guess himself, Tyler grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at Jamie’s face.
The pillow fell onto Jamie’s lap. He looked up at Tyler, panic and confusion on his face. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t respond!” Tyler huffed out a breath, tucking some of his hair behind his ears. “I said It’s not just you and then you didn’t respond!”
Jamie’s shoulders dropped. “Sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to look you in the eye while we had this conversation.”
Tyler sighed, flopping down on the other end of the couch. He kicked his legs up, wishing he’d changed out of his jeans, but grateful for the comfort of Jamie’s soft sweatshirt. “Okay, then. I’m here now.”
Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, watching Tyler with a careful attention that made his stomach flip. “I didn’t know if you were…You know.” Tyler’s expression must have conveyed his confusion. “If you were queer,” Jamie clarified.
“Bi,” Tyler offered, quietly.
“That’s good,” Jamie said, running his tongue over his lower lip. Tyler stared at the movement, and wished…He wished a lot of fucking things. “So, what should we do about this?” Jamie asked.
“I don’t know,” Tyler answered honestly.
“What do you want to do about this?”
Tyler let out a disbelieving laugh. What a ridiculous question.
“I know exactly what I would have done if this was happening three years ago. But now? I don’t know how to do something like this–” he gestured between them “–while doing that.” He pointed down the hall, the helplessness of the situation catching up with him.
“I just don’t have the time or space for someone else. ”
A part of him had expected Jamie to argue, but the man just nodded, his expression kind, understanding. “I have hockey,” he murmured. “You have Rowan.”
“Exactly.”
Jamie sighed. “Okay, then.”
No. Wait. Don’t give up on me so easily, Jamie. I know I can be an asshole, but please, fucking please fight for this.
“Want to pretend?”
Jamie’s thick blonde brows knit together. “Pretend what?”
Tyler’s fingers fiddled with the curled seam of the sweatshirt, anything to avoid looking right at Jamie. “That things are different,” he said softly. “Just for tonight?”
“No.”
Tyler felt his body stiffen, and his head snapped up to stare at Jamie.
Jamie held up a hand, leaning toward him and looking right into Tyler’s eyes.
“I don’t need to pretend anything is different, Tyler.
The way things are is just fine by me. Your life, my life.
They’re both full and busy and a bit out of our control.
If I was going to kiss you, it would be because, in spite of everything else, I want you.
As you are.” He shook his head. “When I kiss you, I want it to be for the two of us. For you, and for me.”
Yes. Please, I want that.
But Tyler had to be realistic. “I don’t have time for–”
“We’ve already covered that, Tyler,” Jamie challenged, voice dropping. Like he was daring Tyler to go after what he really wanted.
“So, what do we do?”
Jamie studied him. “Maybe the time you don’t have could be a match for the time I don’t have. Maybe we could not have time, together, and it would be okay. Maybe it would work for us.”
Tyler opened his mouth to protest, but then closed it. It wouldn’t ever work, right? Couples had to make time for each other. They had to make each other a priority. There was a formula for what worked.
Except, in reality, there were a million exceptions to that.
He thought about Layla and Mila, the wives of professional athletes whose work took them away from home for over half the year.
He didn’t know Mila well, but Layla? She was someone who clearly loved her husband and, even more than that, had her own life, and interests that she’d cultivated on her own.
“I just don’t know, Jamie,” Tyler finally whispered, and he didn’t try to hide the way his voice wavered, vulnerable and uncertain.
Jamie nodded, a sad but understanding smile on his face. “Okay. Take as much time as you need to think about it. I’ll be doing rehab on this stupid hand and thinking about how much I’m blowing my first season as the captain.”
Tyler scoffed, reaching out his foot to nudge the side of Jamie’s thigh.
Hard. “None of that bullshit. Your team loves you. Even now, when you haven’t been playing, it’s obvious those guys look to you as a leader.
They need you, Jamie. Get your head out of your ass and show up for yourself the way you show up for them. ”
Jamie’s mustache twitched, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he shot Tyler a playful grin. “Did you seriously just captain me?”
Tyler laughed. “You’re damn right I did.” And then he added, “Are you sure? You really want me as your neglectful boyfriend?”
Jamie’s smile softened, and fuck, Tyler wanted to know what those lips felt like. He watched as Jamie shifted, leaning toward him and tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. “I think you’re exactly what I want,” Jamie said, his voice gentle. “I’m going to head out and let you get some sleep.”
Jamie stood, shaking out his legs before moving to the door. Tyler followed him, not entirely sure what was going to happen next as Jamie slipped back into his tennis shoes.
When Jamie straightened and turned to face him, Tyler took a step forward, hands reaching out. “I want a hug,” Tyler said, flushing as he realized it hadn’t come out as a question.
Jamie obliged, moving like he’d been waiting and ready to gather Tyler up against his strong chest and hold him tightly. Jamie smelled like deodorant and a faint hint of clean sweat that reminded Tyler of naked skin.
“Take your time,” Jamie repeated, the words a low murmur against Tyler’s hair. “And whenever you want to talk, you tell me, okay? You tell me you’re ready, and I’ll be there.”
Tyler nodded, pressing his cheek against his firm chest, and the world was so quiet, then, quiet enough to hear the echoing thump-thump, thump-thump of Jamie’s heart.
“Today was amazing,” Tyler whispered into the soft fabric. “Thank you for teaching Rowan to skate.”
Jamie hummed above him. “I had fun, too.”
Tell him you’re in.
Tell him he’s already proven himself, proven that there was enough time for them. Tell him all the excuses are falling through your fingers, weak and without merit.
Tell him you’re ready and you want to fall.
No. Not yet.