Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Mateo
Florian and I make out and touch each other every chance we get, and since the team has put us in a room together, those chances are frequent and last for hours.
We are teenagers. Not that I acted this way in high school. I was the only person in my grade who was out. The gay-straight alliance was filled with girls my age. Some called themselves bisexual. Most had boyfriends.
I would pass them on my way to class. Their boyfriends would press them against their lockers, so the metal would clang.
And then they would be kissing, their bodies pressed together for minutes upon minutes as I knelt in my locker beside them and grabbed my books.
Then they would hastily grab their things and hurry to class, glassy-eyed and happy.
But now Florian is leaning me against every door we enter.
Now we are making out in the room as long as we can until we need to hurry for the bus.
Now we sit side by side on the bus or plane, and though we do not kiss there, he is beside me.
Our knees press together, and sometimes, when the plane is dim, and when I can’t stand how much I desire him, our hands tangle together too.
We are excellent at being in a fake relationship. We are champions at it. The Blizzards might be obtaining points at each game, but we are perfecting our acting skills.
Because the thing is… this is not real. That is the thing I do not want to remind myself of. The thing that I cannot help thinking about all the time, until I can press my lips against Florian’s and touch his body with my hands. Only then is it possible to forget that we are nothing to each other.
Of course, I know Florian is fond of me.
Of course, I know Florian enjoys this. This is his first time in life doing anything with another person.
But we are accidentally together. Accidentally proclaiming love and affection for each other in front of others. Fondness is not the same as reality, even though it feels the same when we kiss. Maybe that’s why I like doing it so much.
Florian’s teammates think everything is real. When they save a seat for Florian at breakfast or lunch or dinner, they also save one for me.
I am part of the team in a way I wasn’t before.
Florian of course is recovering. He visits with the team doctor and has virtual check-ups with Dr. Davis and the experts Dr. Davis has found to assist.
Florian will not be cleared to play on the ice until a full six weeks after his memory returned.
The Blizzards aren’t playing as well as they were at the beginning of the season.
His loss is noted, and it is something Florian is embarrassed by.
He blames himself for his injury, even though injuries are accidents.
He could not have calculated the aggression shown by the player who pushed him into the boards.
Finally, we arrive back in Boston.
Florian glances at me. “You could visit me. If you like.”
“I would like that very much,” I say.
“Good.”
And that’s how we find ourselves at Florian’s apartment once again. This time, there is no awkwardness. This time, we order takeout, and this time we curl up together to watch a game. Florian’s arm is around me the whole time, even though no one is observing us.
I relax into his arms.
When the game is over, we move to his bedroom. We prepare for bed, and Florian does my laundry, unzipping my suitcase and separating light-colored and dark-colored clothes. After each cycle finishes, he folds my sweatpants and t-shirts with a care I’ve never shown them.
We shower together, lathering each other’s limbs with his designer body wash, the kind that is not sold in the stores I shop in. Finally, Florian turns off the water, and we step out of the shower.
Florian opens the cabinet where the towels are kept, then he pauses.
I follow his gaze.
The enema kit is there.
“You know,” I say. “We could…”
“You would want to do that?” he asks.
“Of course I would want to do that. I love kissing you, Florian. I love spending time with you. And I would love—”
“Yes,” he says. “Not today, but perhaps tomorrow?”
“That sounds really nice, Florian.”
Florian
Tonight Mateo will be inside me.
I’ve already researched what to do. Tonight it will happen.
I drive us to the arena. Mateo’s phone pings, and he grins at it.
“Gina wants to have dinner with us tonight,” Mateo says.
“Okay. Something not too... Because… you know.”
Mateo grins. “Okay. I’ll tell her to come to your apartment. We can make something bland.”
His fingers fly over his phone’s keypad, and I smile as I pull into the arena. I am still smiling as we walk inside.
Mateo goes to the massage therapy room, and I go to work out. I go on the treadmill until a buzzing sounds.
I check my phone.
My agent is calling me.
I don’t know him well, and something tightens in my stomach. Maybe he’s just being nice. Americans are very friendly.
“Hi, Florian!” Chase’s voice is filled with American enthusiasm, and my shoulders lower.
Maybe this is fine.
I wasn’t expecting to hear from him in the middle of the season, but maybe…
“I, uh, have news,” Chase says. “You might not like it. Or you might. Depending on how into vitamin D you are. And all of us should be into vitamin D.”
“Chase, please share your bad news.”
He sighs. “You’re being traded to Nashville. Effective immediately.”