Chapter 4 #2
“So, when I say I’m from a hockey family, I mean a real hockey family.” He gave me a pointed look. “Not only is my brother a center for the Cardinals, but my dad played for Philly and now he’s an assistant manager for the Newark Eagles.”
“What sort of team is that?” I sipped my beer. Lucas was an East coaster, through and through.
“It’s another PHL team.” He cut into his salmon. “So yeah, my dad knows people.” His gaze snapped to mine. “But I’m here because of my ability.”
“I’m sure.” I raised the corner of my mouth. Was he a little defensive about that? “I’m guessing you have a close relationship with your father?”
“I do.” He nodded and chewed, then gulped his beer down. “I won’t lie. He put a lot of pressure on me and Mason to perform on the ice. But he saw potential in us, and he made sure we had everything we needed to succeed.”
“So, you wanted to play hockey?” I ate more food. I’d seen so many parents who pushed their kids into what they wanted for them. Had his life been that way?
“I did. I love it, everything about it. So does my brother.” He set his fork on his plate.
“There’s a camaraderie with hockey players that I don’t think you find anywhere else.
” He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe it’s like that with other sports, too.
But I don’t think I’ve seen it as much.” He lifted his brows. “We’re family.”
Did this explain why he felt so strongly about helping me? “It sounds really nice.” He was such a stand-up guy. Not like Tate. My heart twinged and my gaze landed on his generous lips. Too bad he wasn’t queer. “What about your mom?”
He chuckled. “Oh, she’s something. She was what we call a puck bunny.” His smile waned. “She’s quite a looker and I tell ya, do you have any idea what it feels like for dudes to be talking about how hot your mom is?”
“Uh, no.” I stuffed more noodles into my mouth. My mother had been pretty, but now I didn’t know what she looked like.
“Well, I hear it all the time and sometimes I want to smack them. It’s my mom, you know?
” He huffed a snort and shook his head, digging into his rice.
“Anyway, she hung out at the rink a lot and met my dad. They hit it off, got married and had us. She loves hockey, so she knows almost as much about it as Dad and got us to all our games while Dad traveled with his team.”
“Yeah?” I eyed him. It was easy to see how proud he was of both his parents. He was the opposite of me in that regard. “Your parents raised you well.”
“I guess so.” He twisted his lips. “Ezra, I had it easy. It sounds like what you went through was terrible. But you rose above it. And we can rise above this thing you have with Tate.” He wrapped his hand around my forearm, his gaze softening.
“You deserve genuine love.” He swallowed.
“I…want to see you happy.” He took a deep breath, his gaze locking on mine. “I like it when you smile.”
My heart flickered like a wild bird, and I gazed deeply into his blue eyes, the lightness a stark contrast from his dark, almost black hair.
He was so stunning. “I, uh…” Did he have any idea what he was doing to me?
“I’d like to smile. It’s just been a long time since I was happy.
” Shit, he dragged the truth right out of me.
“I can see that.” His gaze fell to my lips and lingered. “Ezra, there’s something about you…” He sank his teeth into his lower lip. “Shit, I don’t know.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “Want another beer?” He released my arm and rose from the table.
“I do.” My gaze chased him, focused on the tight muscles of his ass as he pulled out two more beers from the refrigerator. Damn, he was a gay man’s dream with an ass like that.
Setting a beer by my plate, he fell into his chair.
“So, tell me more about you.” He snicked his can open.
“What was it like before your parents found out about your sexuality and what happened, exactly? How did they find out?” He snickered.
“My brother just blurted it out over dinner one day and my dad about lost his shit.”
“Yeah?” I eyed him. “What did you think when he came out?” He seemed close to his brother.
“It solved a lot of questions I had about him.” He sipped his beer. “He always rejected the puck bunnies at the rink and had these guys hanging around.”
I tapped my finger on the edge of my plate. “And this was in Connecticut?” He was raised in a different world from me.
“Yeah, mostly. That’s where we settled after Dad retired from playing hockey.” He leaned in closer, focusing on me. “Tell me what happened. What was it like for you?”
My chest squeezed as the memories flooded my mind.
With a deep breath, I said, “I hid myself all the way into high school. There’s a lot of homophobia where I lived.
We were working class.” I drank my beer.
I wanted to tell him all of it. He was so sincere, and it seemed like he’d understand and wouldn’t judge.
“My parents both worked in the auto industry. Manufacturing. Dad built engines for Toyota and Mom assembled some of the other parts, I don’t know.
I think they moved her around a lot on the floor. ”
“Wow, so they might have helped build a car I’ve ridden in.” He ate the last bites of his food.
“Maybe.” I’d never considered that. “We didn’t have a lot growing up, but there was always food on the table.” I pushed some noodles around my plate with my fork. I couldn’t eat any more.
He watched me. “Does it make you upset to talk about it?” Propping his elbow on the table, he set his chin in his hand.
“I don’t know, maybe a little.” I rolled my lips and set my fork on my plate.
“Every Sunday we attended church and Mom always cooked a big meal right after.” I freed a sharp laugh.
“Fried chicken, collard greens, and grits. That was the staple.” I shook my head, the memories flooding back.
“She could make the best fried chicken,” I said, as my voice cracked.
My eyes stung and my plate blurred. Fuck, why was I emotional now?
“Ezra.” Lucas dragged his chair closer to mine, held my hand, and wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck. “It sounds nice.”
I flicked my gaze to his, my pulse stammering. He was so close. I swallowed a lump in my throat. “It was nice. Sort of.” Fear always lurked under the surface. “But I couldn’t be myself. I could only be the son I thought they wanted.”
“I get it. I heard a similar thing from my brother.” He huffed. “And he’s a cocky bastard. Doesn’t let anyone get in the way of who he is.”
With a nod, I said, “I was a senior in high school and there was a guy who enjoyed fooling around with me.” I took a deep inhale. “A teacher caught us kissing and sent us to the principal. Our parents were called…” Fuck, I hated talking about it. But Lucas was safe. He understood.
“What happened to the other guy?” His gaze roamed my face.
“He disappeared. I think his parents sent him somewhere.” An ache floated through my chest. “I never saw him again.”
“Damn. I can’t imagine that happening to a queer person where I grew up.” He shook his head and freed me, his gaze roaming over the table. “I’ll, uh, I’ll clean this up.” He stood and picked up our dishes.
“No, you’re the guest.” I held his wrist, stopping him. He’d already done so much for me. Just having someone listen lifted a heavy weight off me.
“Okay, but I don’t want to go home yet.” His cheeks flushed. “I want to talk with you some more.”
“Sure. I don’t have to be at the studio until ten tomorrow.” I rose and cleared the table. I’d been working so much, it would be nice to sleep in and frankly, I wanted to spend more time with him, too.
After cleaning up dinner, I met him on the couch, sitting beside him, and raked my gaze over him.
Bent forward with his elbows resting on his thighs, he twisted his beer can in his hands. “Do you love Tate?” His gaze snapped to mine, his brows creasing.
“I…” When Tate was an ass, I didn’t think so. But then, when things were good between us, I felt something for him. “I don’t know.” I sipped my beer.
He winced and blew out a long breath. “Okay.” He shifted on the couch to face me. “If he wasn’t in your life anymore, how do you think you’d feel?”
“Relieved.” My gut churned. Didn’t even have to think about it. “I guess that means maybe I don’t love him.”
“I think you can still love someone and be relieved when they’re gone.” He rested his arm across the back of the couch behind me. “Maybe you’re in love with what could have been?” He focused on my mouth for a beat and licked his lips.
“Maybe. When things were good between us, I enjoyed being with him.” I edged toward him. Although he wasn’t hugging me, feeling this close to him made me feel safe in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. I gazed deeply into his bright blue eyes, then focused on his lips.
He leaned in, closing his eyes.
Losing myself, I closed the gap. What the hell was I doing? I halted and drew back.
His eyes opened wide, and he cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. I don’t know what…” As his cheeks pinked, he shook his head and chuckled. “You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were a hot chick.” He lifted the edge of his lips.
“You did?” I let my mouth tug in a grin. “It’s not the first time.” Fuck it. He felt too good. I shimmied in next to him and leaned against his large frame, my heart pattering. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, this is nice, actually.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “It’s not weird for guy friends to comfort each other, right?” He sighed.
“No, and it shouldn’t be. I think most straight men are too scared of being labeled as gay if they show emotion or hug their friends too long, you know?” But Lucas wasn’t. Was it because he grew up with a gay brother? He didn’t have issues with who he was. His body heat warmed me.
“Who else mistook you for a hot chick?” With a soft grin, he sipped his beer.
I shrugged. “Oh, various people. I guess it’s because I wear my hair on the longer side.
” As my cheeks heated, I dipped my head with a smile.
“I was in a gay bar one time and asked this guy to dance with me. He declined at first, telling me he was gay and not interested.” I chuckled.
“I grabbed his hand and put it on my dick. Boy, was he surprised.” And drunk.
It probably hadn’t been a great idea to dance with a super drunk guy, anyway.
“Seriously?” His gaze dipped to my groin, and he scraped his teeth over his lower lip.
“I think it’s more than your hair.” He tucked his can between his thighs and brushed my bangs from my face.
“You’re, uh, pretty.” His breath deepened and his eyes grew dark.
“Ezra, you are…fucking with my head a little.”
“I am?” Shit, maybe he was bi and just now realizing it? Could I be so lucky? But Tate. As heat built low in my belly, I focused on his lips, so close to mine. I shouldn’t kiss him. I had a boyfriend, even if he was a complete ass.
“Yeah. I’ve never met a guy I found so attractive before.” His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “But then I’ve always hung around jocks.” He trailed his gaze over my body. “Not guys built like you are.”
“Lucas, what are you saying?” Warmth flooded my insides, and my dick plumped. Would he be able to admit it to himself if he was bisexual? He had a gay brother, for fuck’s sake.
“I don’t know. Shit.” Sucking in a breath, he drew away from me, unwrapping his arm from my shoulders. “I should go.” He stood.
“Sure.” I rose beside him. “It’s getting late and I’m sure you have practice in the morning?” Whatever was happening to him, he wasn’t ready to face it. And I have a boyfriend. Would he still want to be there for me, or would he disappear?
He strode into the kitchen, downed his beer and threw the can into the trash bin, resting next to the island.
I followed and set my beer on the kitchen counter. “So, guess I’ll see you around?” Tucking my hands into my jeans, I studied him. Was he freaking out?
“Yes, give me your number.” He tugged his phone out of his jean’s pocket. “I play games next week, but I’ll be around this weekend.”
I gave him my number, and he texted me his.
“Okay. I’m usually with Tate on the weekends.” My heart dropped. I didn’t want to spend another minute with Tate.
Flinching, he tucked his phone into his pocket. “Ezra, you’re going to break up with him, right?”
“Yes, I think I should.” But how was the question? I huffed an exhale.
“I should be there when you do. If he tries to hurt you, I’ll stop him.” He clenched his jaw. “We need a plan.”
We? So, maybe he wasn’t about to disappear on me?
“Okay, let me think about it. I’ll see what plans Tate made for us this weekend and we’ll talk.
” Because Tate always made plans for us.
Come to think of it, I’d never had a say in those plans.
Heat filtered through my chest. I’d been such a pushover.
He ambled toward the door. “In the meantime, if he touches you in a way you don’t like, call me. I’ll be there.” He gave me a pointed look. “I mean it. Even if I’m in the middle of practice.”
My jaw dropped. He was serious. “Okay, I’ll text you if something happens.” But only if things were worse than usual. I wouldn’t text Lucas for yelling, or a shove, or even a slap. I opened the door for him.
He stepped outside and faced me. “Ezra?” His brows furrowed.
“Yeah?” I focused on his stormy eyes. A million things brewed behind them. Grabbing his hand, I said, “We’ll talk soon.”
“Okay.” He squeezed my hand. “See you.” He turned and walked off.
Exhaling deeply, I closed the door, then leaned against it. This might have been the strangest night of my life. Not only did I have Tate to deal with, but I was pretty sure Lucas, a hockey player no less, was having of a crisis of his own. And here I was, in the middle.