Chapter 24
LIAM
Oh God. Mistakes were made.
I drank as much as the next hockey player—okay, maybe not that much, but I did drink. Christmas Eve with my folks, though, always tested what my liver could handle. They weren’t even heavy drinkers and neither were my brother or his wife, but tonight and New Year’s, we all made exceptions.
Which meant Christmas morning was always a subdued affair in the St. Clair house.
Sitting on my couch with a thumping head and an enormous cup of extra strength coffee, I watched my nieces and nephews opening their gifts from Santa Claus. Though I wasn’t fond of being hungover, I honestly couldn’t complain.
My brother, Brock, was here with his wife, Heather, and their four kids.
The older two were happily diving into some new electronics from my parents and me while the younger kids played with the toys they’d received.
Dad was helping my older nephew, Caden, set up his new iPhone.
Mom and Heather watched while the little ones scattered Lego bricks and markers all over my living room.
Brock and Ella were focused on the TV as they tried to outmaneuver each other on Mario Kart.
Despite all the adults being hungover, it was fun and festive. Pounding head or not, I loved this rare moment of being surrounded by my family with no cameras, no hockey, and no dress code. Sitting around in my faded sweats with a gallon of coffee, my family, and nowhere to go—fuck yeah.
After breakfast, we FaceTimed with my sister, Kim, who was spending Christmas with her in-laws on the West Coast. There were calls and texts to other relatives, and we all settled back into the living room so the kids could keep playing.
I helped with some of the Lego builds, and I tried a round of Mario Kart, but my hangover said “Absolutely the fuck not,” so I left it to my brother.
He was barely alive himself, but they were his kids, so he could suffer through it.
While everyone enjoyed themselves beside the Christmas tree, I enjoyed my very comfortable spot on the couch with my coffee.
And my phone, which was hardly still and dormant this morning.
Garrett
How’s your head?
OMG I swear it didn’t mess me up this much when I was younger.
LOL I know that feeling. Where’s the liver that used to tolerate all-night raves and Jungle Juice?
LMAO probably pickled and malfunctioning BECAUSE of those all-night raves and Jungle Juice.
Hmm. Maybe. Not that I drink much now, but it would be nice to not have a headache the morning after I had more than a glass of wine.
How much more than a glass?
Don’t judge me.
I’m not judging you! I’m just asking for clarification.
Rude.
LOL
I chuckled to myself. I loved these silly little exchanges with him, even if they did make me miss bantering face to face. We’d get back to that soon enough.
In the meantime, my coffee was empty, so I got up and went into the kitchen. As I was refilling the cup, my phone pinged again.
Garrett
I feel like killing a bottle of wine together would be fun. But the next morning… (skull emoji)
LOL Yeah maybe not worth it.
On the other hand… it COULD be fun.
I was just typing back a response when my mom’s voice startled me so bad I almost dropped my phone.
“You didn’t tell us you had someone special.”
I shoved my phone into my pocket as my face heated. Of course I knew in an instant I’d given myself away, but it didn’t really matter—if Mom was on to me, Mom was on to me. “I… someone special?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Thirty-seven years old and you still think playing stupid will work on me.”
The heat in my face intensified, and I exhaled. “Okay. Okay. I…” I chewed my lip and fidgeted. “What gave me away?”
“The fact that your phone is always in your hand.” Her expression warmed. “And I don’t usually see that little smile on your face, but I sure do whenever you’re texting.”
Wow. Damn. And here I’d thought I was being subtle.
Mom turned more serious. “It must be a new thing, then? Or is he not out?”
I could read between those lines—less “why haven’t we met him?” and more “why haven’t you even mentioned him to us?”
“We’re, uh…” I scratched the back of my head. “We’re not really ready to be out, you know? As a couple? Maybe if my life was halfway normal …”
Mom sighed. “I understand that. Just being Liam St. Clair’s parents has meant some… adjustments over the last twenty years. Being Liam St. Clair’s boyfriend?” She grimaced. “I don’t imagine many people are ready for that reality.”
“Exactly,” I whispered. “It was hard on Tristan, I think. And like, once we let that cat out of the bag…”
She nodded. “I’m sure. Though if you try to keep a lid on it for too long, there’s always the chance it’ll come out without your consent.”
I shuddered, rolling my shoulders beneath my hoodie.
I had a sudden flash of Jack Arlen sniffing around for gossip, and my blood turned cold.
Fuck, what if he caught this scent? To my mom, I said, “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of, too.
” With a hollow, humorless laugh, I added, “And people wonder why I haven’t had a boyfriend in years.
It’s hard enough to manage a relationship without the media breathing down my neck, you know? ”
“I believe that.” She studied me. “Well, I hope you two get to a point where you want to come out. You deserve to be happy out in the open.”
I smiled despite the knot of guilt in my stomach.
I couldn’t explain to her that there were more contributing factors to our secrecy than fame or sexuality.
Or maybe the fact that I was too ashamed or scared or God knew what to tell my mom that I was dating my teammate’s dad should be a sign.
A sign that we should come clean? One that we should quit before we hurt someone? Fuck if I knew.
“I hope we can come out eventually,” I said quietly. “We’re just… We’re not ready for that. Hopefully we will be before someone outs us.”
“Well, you’ve always been pretty good at laying low when you need to. Just staying off social media probably helps a lot.”
“I don’t know if it helps me stay off people’s radars, but I’m pretty sure it’s good for my mental health.”
“Probably, yes.” She tilted her head, still studying me. “Is there something bothering you? About this relationship? Or is it just the public side?”
Damn. She was good. Always had been.
I shifted my weight. “Not… not the relationship itself. Not…” I chewed the inside of my cheek, not sure how far to tip my hand. Especially since, now that she had me thinking about it, there was something bothering me that I hadn’t let myself dwell on.
Mom watched me, concern written all over her face. “What is it, honey?”
“I…” Hell, if I couldn’t tell my mom, who could I tell? Pulling in a deep breath, I met her gaze. “Being with him is totally worth the stress and the secrecy. It really is.” I swallowed hard. “I just wonder sometimes if being with me is worth all that.”
Mom’s lips parted. Then she stepped closer and touched my arm.
“Of course it is. I know I’m biased because you’re my son, but you’ve grown into a wonderful man who anyone would be lucky to have as his boyfriend.
Yes, your career adds some complications, but everyone has complications in their life. ”
“Not everyone has cameras and gossip columnists frothing at the mouth for dirt on them.”
“No, but people have financial struggles. They have kids from previous relationships. They have family difficulties.” She huffed a quiet laugh. “Do you think your brother and sister-in-law had an easy time?”
That was valid. Heather had two kids from a previous marriage, an ex-husband from hell, and the most obnoxious family I’d ever met.
Her father had even cornered me at the wedding and tried to convince me to get Heather’s brother into the League.
Then he’d posted a bunch of crap on social media about how I wouldn’t even help family get into my sport, that I was an elitist asshole, and how I was happy to watch them struggle financially instead of helping one of them score a lucrative contract.
Brock adored Heather, and he treated Caden and Ella like his own.
I knew for a fact, though, that her ex and her family had put a massive strain on their marriage a few times.
It was hard to imagine someone thinking I was worth the price of admission—the public bullshit and scrutiny, the demands of a hockey career, the constant physical limitations—but maybe Garrett thought I was. He had stuck around so far, after all, even after we barely got to see each other.
Sighing, I nodded. “Point taken.”
She squeezed my arm, then let go. “Right. So don’t start doubting that you’re someone who’s worth the price of admission.” She paused, and a little smile came to life. “The way your eyes light up every time you get a text, I’m thinking he puts in more than enough effort to show you’re worth it.”
My heart fluttered, and I couldn’t help smiling myself. “He, uh… He does put in a lot of effort.” I paused before softly adding, “Maybe I am worth it to him. I don’t know.”
“Of course you are.” She waved a hand. “He’s texting you on Christmas and making you blush.”
I laughed as some renewed heat rose in my face. Couldn’t really argue with her, could I?
“Come on,” she said. “Your coffee is getting cold.”
It had cooled a little, and I picked it up off the counter and followed her back into the living room. As I settled on the couch, I pulled out my phone. I reread the messages Garrett and I had been exchanging about killing a bottle of wine together.
LOL Yeah maybe not worth it.
On the other hand… it COULD be fun.
Laughing softly, I started typing out a response.
Shortly after I’d sent it, Garrett replied, and we kept going like that throughout the day.
Sometimes one of us would go quiet for a while because we were spending time with our families.
But still, there was a steady trickle of messages—a steady undercurrent of constant contact—with him even while we couldn’t be together.
It was much too soon to think about anything long term for Garrett and me. Still, as we kept bantering in between visiting with our families, I couldn’t help but wonder…
Maybe Garrett did think I was worth the price of admission.