18. CONNOR
EIGHTEEN
CONNOR
From the second I sit next to Easton on the bus to when we get on the plane, my brother eyes me. Not in his usual glare or with the air of annoyance our rift has brought between us but with … suspicion.
It could be paranoia, but it could also be that he knows . Somehow.
I’m not ashamed of what happened with Parker. I don’t have that voice in my head telling me if it got out, it would be the worst thing in the world. Yet, when Easton and Lachie would hook up with men, that was all I could think. I realize this makes me a major hypocrite, but it was because I didn’t know then what I know now.
Nothing about what I did with Parker in bed this morning should be shameful. Because it’s not. It’s natural and no different than being with a woman. Sure, the logistics of it were different, but the outcome was the same.
Actually, if I’m being completely honest with myself, it was more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced before. I can’t say why because I don’t know. Just like I don’t know how I got here. It’s as if the shackles of responsibility were taken off, and now, I’m the one who’s wild and free, and … it makes me take Easton’s side in our fight.
If I tell him or anyone else what happened and they responded with warnings of being careful, I’d feel unsupported too. I’m getting better at shutting off those instincts toward him and Lachie, though I’ll acknowledge East gets the brunt of it because our lives are more intertwined than with Lachie’s. But even though I’ve seen the light or whatever—a come to Jesus but not so much Jesus, more like dick, moment—there’s a part of me that will always worry and want to protect them. Because they’re my little brothers. Despite that, I’m hoping my newfound experience of what they’ve actually been through will give me pause the next time I go to butt in.
“So,” Easton says once we’re up in the air. “What happened to you last night? You said you were coming out with the team, but you never made an appearance.”
I don’t want to lie to my brother, but at the same time, it’s not like I can tell him I hooked up with the team’s owner, who’s a man and technically someone who could ruin me if he wanted to. Especially can’t say any of that in front of the rest of the team.
“Wait until I couldn’t escape to bring it up?” I sit up and look around exaggeratedly. “Think they have parachutes on this thing?”
“Just saying, you didn’t show up for team celebrations, arrived late to the bus, and you smell like cum. Either you hooked up early last night or didn’t shower after jerking off for the first time in like a year. At least, that’s the only reason I can think of why the stench would be that strong. Keeping it inside that long isn’t healthy, bro.” East is so casual in his delivery, and he’s not even looking at me while he says it. His head is in his phone.
My lips part, and I go to say something—anything—but all that comes out is a noise that is in no way, shape, or form a word .
Easton breaks his gaze from his phone finally and pierces me with his gray eyes, which are a lighter shade than my own.
I still don’t have the right words, so I settle for any words. “It was a hookup, and she didn’t mean anything.”
“Sounds like a lie, but okay.” He goes back to his phone.
I’m starting more and more to understand my brothers. Because I want to tell East what happened. Hell, I wouldn’t mind getting his or Knox’s opinion or thoughts on it. On why I’m so confused when the answer is obviously simple: I repressed every single aspect about myself for the sake of everyone else, and now, I’m discovering things that I never questioned before.
And now I’m in this place where I realize I’m not straight, that I’m probably bi like Knox, but that makes me question why I was never attracted to Knox or why, when my brothers came out to me, it didn’t even cross my mind?
Why was it this one nerdy boy from my past that seemed to flip that switch?
I think back to that day in high school when I saw Parker and Easton talking. Possibly even flirting. I’ve always maintained that I stepped in because I didn’t like the way Parker was interacting with East. East had a future, one he shouldn’t screw up. But looking back now, is it possible that something, somewhere buried deep down, when my subconscious said “mine,” it was not, in fact, talking about East?
Could something inside me have put a claim on a person without even interacting?
The way Parker smiled that day flashes across my memory and tugs something deep in my gut.
I have to tell myself to stop trying to figure it out because it’s not going to be as easy as saying, “Oh, I rubbed up against another dick this morning until I came, so obviously, I’m queer. Where are my rainbow pom-poms?”
Or maybe it is that easy? I don’t fucking know.
What I do know is if I was going through this as an adolescent and I had someone older than me telling me to squash it down, don’t draw attention, and think about the type of future and career I want? Yeah, I would be in prison for murder. So how East only snapped this year is beyond me.
Who knew Easton had the patience of a saint?
And like every other life lesson being shoved in my face of late, they all lead to one conclusion.
I turn to my brother. “I know that things are still patchy between us and that I’ve probably been mopier about it than I should be, but I need you to know that I am deeply sorry for everything I’ve put you through since you came out. I thought I was being supportive, but I wasn’t.”
He hits the Off button on his phone to put the screen to sleep and turns to me. “Okay, what happened last night?”
I put my finger to my lip and glance around the plane again. Everyone has their heads in their own business, and the engines are loud, but … “Not here.”
“Then where?” he asks. “Us going into the bathroom together is going to look incredibly incestuous.”
“Is Knox home?”
“Flew out this morning for a game tonight.”
Fuck.
“But by the time we get home, we should be able to video call. We have a date set up before his game, but … I get the feeling this is more important than sex.”
I screw up my face. “I still don’t need to know any of what you two get up to in the bedroom, thanks. So long as he’s answering that video call fully clothed, I’m there.”
“Of course he will. We’re not animals.”
Yet, I don’t miss the way he picks his phone back up and frantically types out a text to Knox.
A few hours later, Easton and I are on my couch, side by side, with my laptop open on my lap. We’re in my giant, empty house—though at least it’s furnished now—and on a video link with Knox, who’s in his hotel room.
I’m proud of my best friend for chasing his dream of reffing in the NHL, but it also sucks that he’s not around as much anymore. That was going to happen either way, but with him and Easton being together, even when he is back in Denver, I don’t have him the same way I used to.
I’m not going to be selfish when it comes to Knox though. If Knox is Easton’s happiness, they deserve to have as much time together as possible to make up for the years of bullshit I put East through.
“Sooooo,” Knox says. “Should I be worried that both my Kikis want to speak to me? At the same time? You haven’t killed each other, so there’s one of my concerns gone, but I have about a billion more. Which one of you is being traded, who hit who, or which one of you was swapped with me at birth and I’ve actually been having sex with my biological brother all this time?”
Both Easton and I screw up our faces.
“What is wrong with you, dude?” I ask.
“I don’t like to agree with Connor, but I do on this one,” East says.
“Stop keeping me in suspense,” Knox whines.
“So … I hooked up last night.”
“That isn’t anything new.” Knox lowers his voice. “I’m missing out on seeing Easton naked for this.”
“It, uh, wasn’t with a woman.” I so desperately want to say who it was with, but that bombshell can come later.
“I knew it!” East shouts.
“You did?” Knox asks him.
“With how much he smelled like cum this morning, I wouldn’t be surprised if he says his first foray into the gay world was with a bukkake celebration. ”
Do I want to know what the fuck that is?
East turns to me. “Wait, this was your first time, wasn’t it? Because if you’ve been hooking up this whole time while ridiculing me for?—”
“Yes. First and only. And surprising. Because I had … I didn’t …” I take a deep breath.
East puts his hand on my shoulder and grips tight. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. It’s messed up, and it has the potential to ruin?—”
His grip tightens to the point of pain. “If you go into all that bullshit again that you spouted at me, just look at what coming out has done for me. I am?—”
“I didn’t mean it like that this time, but that’s one of my issues. I’m realizing that I might not be the most … empathetic? Sympathetic? I dunno, the one where I can’t relate because I’ve never been through it, and now that I have all this confusion and I’m unsure where this attraction came from, I can see how one-track-minded I’ve been. It’s always been about hockey for me, and so I pushed that onto you and Lachie. And now …”
My best friend hasn’t said anything, and when I force my gaze back to the screen, his lips are pursed.
“What?” I ask. “What are you thinking?”
“Why do you think hooking up with a man is messed up?”
I run my hand over my hair. “It’s not the man part that’s messed up. It’s who it was.”
I can see by the image on the screen that next to me, Easton’s face has dropped. “Ohhhhh fuck.”
“What?” Knox asks. “Who was it?”
“You and Parker were both late for the bus today,” Easton says.
“You slept with your team’s owner?” Knox screeches.
“No! Well, yes, but not in a problematic way. I’ve never deep down seen him as an authority figure or someone who can ruin me, even though he wanted to. I’ve always seen him as that guy in high school. The one who didn’t deserve to be treated like dirt?—”
“We never treated him like dirt,” Easton says, waving a finger between him and Knox on the screen.
“It’s messed up because he sees me as the guy who made his life hell in high school, and now … now we’re …” Kissing and snuggling with morning orgasms. Remembering that should feel so … so … right. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You need gay sex tips?” Easton asks.
I hold up my hand. “Nope. Not from you. I mean, in general. With life. Am I really bi, or am I having a quarter-life crisis? Is Parker doing this to mess with me more, or is it real? Do I love playing hockey, or is that all a lie I’ve told myself for years too? Every time I find out something new about myself, it makes me question everything else.”
Both Easton and Knox look sympathetic as they smile. But they’re both smiling.
Easton pats my back. “Welcome to the queer space. I’ll need to make your membership card, but don’t worry, it’ll say, ‘We’re all overthinkers here.’“
That’s … somewhat reassuring, I guess.