Chapter Twenty
SELWIN
What the hell is wrong with you?
I push harder than I should during my workout, but I can’t help it.
Grabbing a couple of towels, I clean off my treadmill with one and wipe down my face and neck with the other, then head to the locker room.
I’m sweaty and gross but I want to take a shower at home, not here.
Not after that exchange with Finn. I don’t trust my dick at all.
Fuck, I’m already feeling possessive of his time, which shocks me, because I’ve never been like that with another person.
Jesus, I sounded like a jealous ass. Who am I kidding?
When Finn mentioned Cody’s offer, I was a jealous ass.
And holy shit, what Finn said after? My dick is half hard and I hold the towel in front of me as I jog into the locker room.
I grab my clothes, head to the changing room, and leave as fast as I can.
Unfortunately, on my way to the elevator, I move too quick and trip.
It’s lucky I grab for the nearest wall to steady myself and narrowly avoid kissing the carpet.
The whole ride down, I can’t stop my left foot tapping like I’m on a sugar rush.
But it’s when I finally reach the garage that I know I’m fucked; I can’t remember where I parked my car.
It takes me ten minutes to find it. Jesus, I’m so wound up thinking about Finn, I shouldn’t be driving at all.
As soon as I’m strapped in, I take a couple of deep breaths and hit the accelerator. My plan is to go home, text Finn, run errands, and hopefully meet up with him later. If he still wants to meet up. Unless my behaving like a dick on the ice pissed him off?
Somehow, I manage not to have a car accident on the way home.
As soon as I step foot inside my place, I head for the shower—a cold one—slide on my sweats, and stagger to the couch.
Oops, I almost forgot to eat, and when does that happen?
Shaking off my unease, I pad into the kitchen and make a beeline for the fridge, grabbing containers of leftover Chinese takeaway and a frozen meal.
Once I’m settled on the sofa again with protein and carbs, I shovel my food in while obsessively checking my phone every ten seconds.
I text Finn, but unfortunately, I don’t get a reply.
Not within ten minutes, not within an hour.
Not within two.
I’m not panicking or anything, even though my stomach’s clenched tighter than a freaking knot. I’m acting ridiculous again.
Finn’s got stuff to do like everyone else. It doesn’t mean he’s ignoring you.
I can’t sit still, so I decide to take a stroll and clear my head. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I grab my boots, beanie, and a leather jacket. It’s starting to get cold in the city, and I’m not a fan, but the walk will do me good.
The streets are busy as always, and as I pass various shops, I recall the name of the bakery where Finn bought us pastries: You Knead It. Seems appropriate given my circumstances…
I google the address on my phone and start walking in the right direction.
It’s late afternoon, though, and by the time I arrive, there’s only a couple of blueberry Danishes and a plain croissant left.
I’m so jumpy that I sure as fuck don’t need coffee, but I buy the pastries and a bag of their most popular beans.
Not for me. I want to make Finn a latte for breakfast the next time he’s over.
Please let there be another sleepover.
That sounds needy but I don’t care.
Purchases in hand, I continue to walk around the neighborhood, taking note of several restaurants, stores, and galleries that look interesting. I imagine taking Finn out on a date and shake my head at my inane train of thought.
After an hour of exploring, I’m back at my building and most of my restlessness is in check.
Until I tap my phone.
No text from Finn. Damn. I’ve got a few from Damien and other friends, so I reply to those and turn my notifications off. At this point, last night with Finn feels like a month ago.
When I step inside the lobby and finally defrost, I spot Makela waiting by the elevators.
“Hey!” I call out as I get closer.
He turns around and offers me a mischievous smile.
“Kirkland number one! The only one I can stand.”
I chuckle, and when the elevator doors open, Makela looks at my bag.
“I smell something delicious. Bakery? Care to share?”
I shake my head. “They only had enough pastries for one.”
It’s not a total lie.
“For one person or one hockey player?”
“What do you think?” I quip.
We enter the elevator, and I swipe my card, pressing the button for the tenth floor. Makela presses nineteen.
“Do you live here?” I ask.
“No, I’ve got a house in Chelsea.”
“So, you’re visiting someone?”
“Sorensen and Finn, for a video game battle.”
I tense but try to keep my face expressionless.
“Sorensen texted me that food has arrived, so my timing is perfect. I guess I don’t need pastries.” He offers a smirk. “At least, not today.”
“Your stomach is an endless pit,” I remark.
“Is no problem. I work out,” He flexes his biceps. “Look at this body. So strong. I am the Roman god, Mercury.”
I laugh out loud at Makela’s ego.
“Well, Mercury, have fun at Sorensen’s,” I say as the elevator stops at my floor.
“You want to join us? Then we can have your dessert.”
Sorensen didn’t invite me, so no, I’m not going to show up like that.
Then again, he didn’t see me after practice, and I don’t think I exchanged numbers with him.
But Finn didn’t text me either, and I wonder why and…
why it hurts. Jesus, I’m being dramatic again.
It’s Sorensen’s place, and if he’d invited me, maybe I’d have gone.
“Thanks, but another time.”
I step out of the elevator and Makela shouts before the doors close.
“I’m having party before we leave for February break. Remember to bring pastries!”
I head down the hallway but before I unlock my door, I check my phone.
Still no text from Finn… stop it.
Shaking my head, I step inside, drop the bakery bag on the island, and rummage through my freezer for dinner. While my food’s in the microwave, I turn on the TV and settle on a comedy series. What I need now is a good laugh and lots of distraction.
It doesn’t work.
My stomach’s all nerves and it takes me longer than usual to eat. Once I’m done, I mute the TV, turn on my notifications, and text Damian. I should call but I’m not in a talking mood.
Sel: How are things going in Vermont? Still binging on cheese and maple syrup lol?
I wait a few minutes for his reply.
Damien: FU, cheese and maple syrup = awesome. And just for that, I’m sending you some this week and you’ll never want anything else.
Sel: Speaking of wanting…
Awkward segway, Sel.
Damien: Go on.
Sel: I have it bad for someone
Damien: Whoa! Details, now! Is it that football player, Grimaldi?
Sel: Jesus, you sound like me when you first mentioned Silas.
Damien: Déjà vu, right? So, is it him or someone else?
Sel: It’s not Taylor. It’s more complicated than that. Are you sure you want to know?
Damien: Only if you want to tell me.
Sel: Okay, but DON’T tell anyone, including your husband.
Damien: I swear
Sel: It’s a hockey player. In the league. Who happens to be my teammate.
Damien: Fuuuuuck
Sel: Yep, only, he’s just discovering he’s into guys. But he’s not the same as me. What I mean is, he’s not into the casual thing, and shit, I said too much. Ignore that.
Damien: How did this happen?
Sel: It started out innocently at training camp.
We hit it off as friends, then it became more.
I hope it’s more. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
It’s like I’ve been knocked over the head and I have no idea what hit me.
Today, I got pissed when someone offered to show my—I mean, him—around town. I was jealous, Damien. Me!
Damien: Does your guy feel the same?
Sel: I don’t know. Like I said, this is new to him. Could be a crush.
Damien: And you’re sure he’s got no ulterior motive? Like, he’s not doing this to trap you and create a scandal?
Sel: No way, not him. He’d never do that.
Damien: Does anyone else suspect?
Sel: Berg told me about a rumor he overheard, talk that this teammate and I are more than friends. I dealt with it, well, I denied it, and Berg told me that would be the end. I think it’s fine.
Damien: Now I’m really worried. After the shit you dealt with in Chicago.
Sel: No one will find out, and chances are it’ll be over soon. Both of us are under a lot of pressure with a new team, and I’m thinking this guy may change his mind and say it’s too much, that I’m not worth the risk.
Damien: Wait, back up. This player is new to the Rush?
Oh, Jesus.
Sel: Did I say that?
Damien: Motherfucker, there were only two additions to the NY roster this fall; you and Finn. It’s him???? Seriously??
Damn my big fucking mouth.
Sel: No comment.
Damien: It is! Fuck me, I did NOT see that coming! Wait, did this start in the summer at my camp?? Chatterbox Finn was so subdued around you, but I assumed it was because of his mom’s health. Or maybe, he was in shock meeting his idol.
Sel: Nothing happened until we met again in NY. And he was quiet for the reasons you mentioned. That’s all.
Damien: Hold on a sec…
Three dots pop up, then vanish, then pop up again.
Damien: Shit, sorry, Silas’s brother is calling me. Phone me tomorrow night and we’ll continue this talk, okay?
Sel: Thanks, bud
At least some of the pressure of keeping this secret is off my chest. Placing my phone on the table, I sit back and close my eyes.
Sleep calls and I don’t know how long I’m out, but I wake up when I hear another buzz from my cell.
I tap on it and realize I’ve been asleep for two hours and it’s already 9:00 p.m.
I also realize it’s Finn texting me and in a split second, I’m wide awake, my heart rate skyrocketing.
Finn: You at home?
My hands are shaking as I type.
Sel: Yes
Finn: Can I drop by?
Sel: Anytime
Finn: C u in a few