Chapter 16 #2
“Mason here likes a good fight. I’d say he fights a little more than most players.” Jett patted Mason’s forearm. “But usually, the guys deserve what they get.”
“I haven’t seen Lucas fight in a game yet.” Maybe his position was different? My gaze flicked to the rink. The Giants winger skated by Lucas and slapped his stick out of his hand. “Oh, shit.” Maybe I’d spoken too soon.
Lucas sped after him, grabbed the Giants’ winger by the neck and threw him onto the ice.
“Way to go, bro. Hell yeah.” Mason whistled and clapped. “Show him who’s boss.”
The Giants winger rose and threw off his gloves.
“What’s going on?” I shifted to the edge of my chair, my eyes wide. Wasn’t anyone going to stop this?
“What’s going on? Lucas is giving him the what-for.” Cackling, Mason fisted his hands and punched the air.
I darted my gaze from Mason to Lucas, now spinning around the forward with his fists held high. Considering their rough play, maybe I should have let Lucas take a swing at Tate. Hell, it would have been satisfying as fuck to watch him lay Tate out.
“Mason, you’re scaring Ezra.” Barking out a laugh, Jett pushed Mason’s hands down.
A ref skated between them, breaking up the fight. Lucas pointed at the Giants’ winger and then picked up his stick and skated to his bench.
Ticking his head, Mason said, “You’ll get an ear full tonight about that dude. I guarantee it.”
“Yeah? And how should I handle it?” I sipped my beer. For now, the drama was over.
“Just listen and agree.” Mason peeked at Jett. “Right, babe?”
“Right.” With a soft snort, Jett drank some beer.
During the second intermission, we’d gotten some kettle corn to share and more beer. I felt comfortable around them. After taking our seats, I grabbed a handful of kettle corn and passed the bag to Mason.
Mason sipped his beer. “Has Lucas said anything to you about coming out to our parents?” Scooping corn into his hand, he threw it into his mouth.
“No, he hasn’t mentioned it.” I studied Mason. “How do you think they’ll react? I mean, you’re out to them.” And when would be a good time?
“Mom will be cool with it. Dad will accept it, but I think Dad will be…fuck, disappointed maybe?” Mason glanced at Jett. “What do you think?”
“Babe, he’ll be okay with it. Why do you think he wouldn’t?” Jett held his hand out and Mason gave him the Kettle corn bag.
“He wasn’t cool with it when I first came out. Mom had to take him to PFLAG meetings.” Mason scoffed. “Some other dad talked sense into him and then he came around.”
Jett shifted to face Mason. “What do you mean? What did your dad do?”
Had they never talked about this? I focused on them. This was important.
“He told me he didn’t want to hear it and wouldn’t talk about it. At all. It was like if we didn’t discuss it, I’d magically become straight.” He twisted his lips, glancing at the rink. “Dad better not do that to Lucas.”
“Or what, you’ll punch him?” Jett choked on a laugh. “You can’t solve everything with your fists, babe.”
“I want to be there when it happens.” Mason’s hardened gaze cut to mine.
“If he mentions anything about coming out to my parents or tries to set something up, you tell me.” Jabbing his finger into the arm of the chair, he said, “I want to be there.” As his lips curled into a grin, he peeked at Jett.
“I’m going to make sure the old man behaves himself. ”
My chest swelled with warmth. Mason was serious about this. He stood up for his brother the same way Lucas stood up for me. Protecting those they loved was a common theme for them. “I’ll make sure you know about it.”
“Thanks, Ezra. You’re a good guy.” He smirked at me. “Not just a pretty face.” He settled into his chair, his shoulders relaxing. “Wouldn’t mind having you as a brother-in-law someday.” He drank his beer.
I gaped at him. Had I heard that right? “Thanks. Me too.” I could dream.
After the Firebirds won their game, we said our goodbyes, then Mason and Jett headed home.
The next day’s away game meant an early rise for them.
I learned more about hockey than any other sport by game’s end.
Mason’s rants became humorous rather than intimidating.
He was intense, but Jett evened him out.
It was clear to see how he’d become one of hockey’s best.
I took an Uber to Lucas’s apartment and strolled to the elevator. As a shadow caught my eye at the edge of the building, my heart leapt to my throat. “Fuck.” Was it Tate or someone else?
I jabbed the call button a few times. The hair rose on the back of my neck. Fuck it, I’d take the stairs. I wasn’t waiting. I jogged to the stairs, taking two steps at once until I reached the third floor, out of breath.
I scanned the balcony in front of the doors. It was empty. It must have been a false alarm. Taking a deep breath, I strode to the door and slipped my keycard out of my wallet.
Someone had wedged a folded paper in the door frame.
My nerves frayed. “Fucking Tate.” He’d come to Lucas’s apartment?
With shaking hands, I slipped the note from the door, unlocked it, and jumped inside.
What if he was still here? Slamming the door behind me, I threw the curtains closed on the front windows and pulled my phone out.
It didn’t feel safe to switch the light on. Then he’d know for sure I was here.
Hitting the button for my phone’s flashlight, I stomped to the sofa and dropped in. Did I even want to read this? Slowly, I unfolded the paper. Tate’s handwriting was clear as day. I swallowed hard, fighting to steady my trembling hands.
Ezra,
You win. I hope you’re happy with this loser of a hockey player. If he was so great, he’d be in the NAPH by now. But whatever, you’ve made your bed. I wouldn’t take you back now, even if you groveled. You had your chance. Have a nice life.
Tate
I blew out a breath. I’d promised to let Lucas know if Tate came around again. I’d also promised to call the police. Tate had left this before I got here. So would it matter? Plus, the note implied he’d leave me alone. I rose, flicked on the lights, and ambled back to the couch.
I had to tell Lucas about this. But he didn’t need to see the note and the shitty things Tate said about him. Tate was dead wrong. I opened the screen on my phone and a text message popped up.
94119
Click here to see a message from CAN Health.
Holy shit, my test results had come in. I clicked the link, entered personal information into a few fields on the website, and clicked. A message displayed—all test results came back negative. Call us for questions.
“Oh, damn.” So, I had some good news and some bad news for Lucas. Will he be up for our plans after playing so hard in the game? He’d been enjoying the benefits of having a prostate for days now. My phone buzzed in my hand and a text came through.
Lucas
Be home in a few minutes. I’m pumped after that game. Can’t wait to see you.
I had my answer. I wouldn’t spoil his mood and tell him about the letter tonight. Tate’s bullshit could wait. I tucked the note into my wallet.
Fifteen minutes later, Lucas and Evan burst through the front door, laughing.
With a smile on my face, I stood at the refrigerator. Surely, they’d want beers.
“Ezra, I’m home.” Lucas strolled to me in the kitchen, wrapped me in a bear hug and lifted me off the floor, pressing a hard kiss on my mouth. “Did you see the game?”
“Yes, I was there with your brother, remember?” I giggled as he set me down. “Want a beer?”
“Hell yes.” Beaming at me, Evan strode to my side and planted a kiss on my cheek.
“Dude, chill.” With his brows dropping, Lucas pushed Evan away.
“Come on, it was a buddy kiss. Right?” Evan patted my back.
“Right.” Surprising, but not really. I flung the refrigerator door open, pulled out two beers and snicked them open. As I handed them out, I said, “So…the guy who took your stick—”
“What a fucking douche canoe!” With a scowl, Lucas sipped his beer. “His hit was a penalty, but the refs didn’t call it.” His gaze found Evan’s. “And dude, where were you? You should have pounded him for me.”
“I was helping Gagnon defend our goal.” With a tut, he drank some beer. “You’re a big boy and I knew you could take him.”
“Whatever. Let’s sit on the couch and wind down.” Lucas grabbed my hand, led me to the sofa, and pulled me in next to him. “So, how was my brother?” He smirked, holding the beer to his lips. “Did he tell you all my secrets?”
“Some” My mind replayed some of our conversation. Should I bring up what he’d said about coming out to their parents? Maybe not in front of Evan. “He and Jett make a perfect couple. Your brother’s a hothead, and Jett knows how to cool him down.”
“They’re like that on the ice, too. I think it’s why the coaches are still letting them play on the same line, even though they’re married.” He squeezed my hand. “What else?”
“It was a crash course in hockey. Which plays were valid and who was playing like shit.” I chuckled. Mason had some definite opinions.
“Yeah? What are his opinions about the guys on our team?” Lucas sipped his beer and draped an arm across the back of the sofa, behind my shoulders.
Evan held his palm to me. “Don’t tell me if Mason thought I played bad tonight. I don’t want to hear it.”
With a smirk, I drank some beer. “Actually, he didn’t say too much about you. Just that Lucas played well.” In fact, Mason was convinced Lucas was ready for the NAPH.
“He said that?” Lucas’s eyes widened. “What else?”
“He thinks you’re ready to move up.” I fingered the pull tab on my beer can. I better not give him hope if there wasn’t any.
“Seriously?” His mouth dropped open. “That says a lot. I don’t think I’m ready to play with Mason’s buddy, Archer Carlson, but damn.” He twisted his lips. “I wonder if he’s heard anything from the D-line coach.”
“Isn’t that Archer’s dad?” Evan drank some beer.