Chapter 19
LUCAS
The next day, after the morning skate and shower, Coach Sullivan stepped into the locker room. “Hopkins? A word?”
“Yeah, sure.” I glanced at Crosby, pushing his legs into his joggers. “Any ideas?” Had I not played well enough? I thought I’d been spot on.
Crosby shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
“Maybe you get ass reamed.” Gagnon barked out a laugh at his stall and slipped his shirt over his head. “But then you like that.” He arched a brow.
“Shut it, Gagnon.” Smiling through a scoff, Evan rolled his eyes.
I pointed at Gagnon. He didn’t have a homophobic bone in his body, as far as I could tell. “Does he? Did you tell—”
“He figured it out.” Evan sat on the bench and slipped into his sneakers. “Dude, you talk about Ezra all the fucking time.”
Gagnon stepped to us, waggling his brows. “The photo guy is not bad to look at.” He patted my shoulder. “Boys-friend?”
Lifting my chin, I said, “Yes, and it’s boyfriend.” Shaking my head with a sharp snicker, I dropped my towel and stepped into my team joggers. “So, you don’t care, right, Gagnon?”
“No, maybe I like ass ream too.” He cackled, pushing on my chest. “But don’t know yet.” He smirked. “Maybe.”
I dropped my jaw. Was Gagnon queer too? I had no idea. The guy hid it well with all the puck bunnies badgering him.
“Hopkins?” Coach planted his hands on his hips. “Enough chirping.”
“Be right there.” I hurried to dress in an athletic shirt and sneakers and then strode toward the coaching offices. What the hell did I do?
“In here.” Coach waved me into his office and shut the door. “Have a seat.” As he dropped into the chair behind his desk, I took a chair across from him.
Swallowing hard, I breathed through the butterflies in my gut. He looked serious. Had they traded me? How would I handle it with Ezra? I wiped my sweaty palms on my joggers.
“Hopkins, last night Arlo Berg was in a car accident. He’s okay, but his leg is pretty busted up and it looks like he might be out for the season.” He tented his hands over the desk and studied me. “There’s an embargo with the press until we know the full extent of his injuries.”
I gaped. How did this concern me? Oh…I shifted to the edge of my seat. I wouldn’t jinx it by thinking about it. “And?”
“And you’ve been playing next level, Hopkins.
They want to try you at the next Cardinals game with the San Francisco Falcons.
It’s in two days and at home. You’ll be playing second line with Nolan Laine.
” A rare grin spread over his lips. “What do you say? You have a few days to practice with them, but your playing style is what they need.”
My heart skipped a beat and soared. “Yes, hell fucking yes.” Holy fuck, I’d play with Mason, Ace and Archer Carlson. If this panned out, my dreams would come true sooner than I’d thought.
“Good. I figured you’d say that.” He opened his laptop, resting closed in front of him. “I’ll let them know. Tomorrow’s skate will be with them.”
“Thank you, Coach. I won’t let them down.” I hopped up from the chair and sauntered from the office. Wait until everyone heard about this.
Crosby and Gagnon met me in the hallway, Crosby saying, “You don’t look like a man who’s had his ass reamed.”
Gagnon planted his hands on his hips. “Well? I wait.”
“Arlo Berg is injured and they’re testing me in his spot.” Fuck, was I supposed to tell anyone? I glanced down the hallway. Empty so far. Clapping a hand on each of their shoulders, I leaned in. “Don’t say a word. Berg was in an accident and it’s not public yet.”
“Shit, is he okay?” Crosby wrinkled his forehead.
“I guess so. He broke his leg and might be out for the season. They don’t know yet.” It was a shitty way to get ahead, but this was hockey. It happened. I released them and stepped back.
“Good for you, man. I’m proud of you.” Crosby beamed at me.
“Me too, proud.” Gagnon pounded his fist on his chest and then on mine. “You get ‘em.”
“I will, thanks, guys.” I couldn’t wait to tell Ezra later. But now, I needed to finish packing my gear. I stepped toward the locker room and peeked back at Crosby, laughing with Gagnon as they left. Shit, I’d miss those guys.
After I came home and packed away my shit, I sat on the couch with a protein drink to review game footage of the San Francisco Falcons. I had to up my game. The NAPH ate up rookies like me.
My phone blared with a rock tune on the coffee table. Shit. I plucked it from the table and set it on speaker. It was Mason. “Hey, bro. Did you hear?”
“Think I didn’t? About fucking time.” He snickered. “You’ll do great, and I’ll make sure of it.”
I’d expect nothing less. “I’m not sure how much time we’ll get together on the ice.” Sinking into the couch, I sipped my smoothie, the cool sweetness of blended strawberries gliding down my throat.
Evan stepped from his bedroom. “Hey, Mason.” He stopped at the refrigerator and opened it.
“Hey, Evan.” Mason lowered his voice. “How is he doing with the news?”
“I’m cool with it.” Evan grabbed a Gatorade and sat on the loveseat. “Lucas deserves this. Far be it from me to be jealous over something like this.” He ticked his brows and drank some Gatorade.
“Cool, man. So, Lucas, Archer Carlson will call you. He’ll tell you how to handle these jokers from a D-man perspective, and also what you need to know about Laine.”
“Sure, I can’t wait to speak with him.” Of course, I’d have my brother’s squad behind me. I grinned at the phone. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, one more thing. When are you coming out to Mom and Dad? I got a call from them yesterday and they still don’t know.”
“Uh, I don’t know. I’ve been busy and I haven’t thought about it.” I glanced at Evan, worrying his lower lip. “They’ll be cool with it, right?” I had to prepare for the next game. I didn’t have time to deal with this shit.
“They will. Like I told you, Dad might pitch a fit, but he’ll get over it. Do you want me on the line?”
“Yeah, sure. Let me think about it. Maybe after we pounce the Falcons.” The edge of my lips quirked. “Then we can have a little celly.”
“Little, Lucas. We have a game the next day, too.” Mason tutted. “Let me know when you’re ready and I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” I drank my protein shake. “I’ll see you at the rink in the morning.” I could still hardly believe it.
“Yep. See you. Bye.” The call ended.
“Dude, you haven’t told your parents about Ezra yet?” Evan pressed his lips together. “You’re practically married.” He smirked.
“Am not.” I freed a snort. I wouldn’t mind living with Ezra, though. Especially if I got a nice contract soon.
“I suppose the organization will be fine with it, seeing as how Mason, Jett, and Archer are all queer.” He tilted his head, examining the label on his Gatorade bottle.
“Yeah, I suppose. They’d know how to handle it.” Fuck, I’d somehow sidestepped all the coming out bullshit everyone else had gone through. I snatched the television remote from the coffee table. “I’ll…deal with it after this game.” I turned on the television and opened the YouTube app.
Later that evening, I strolled to Ezra’s apartment under tall trees with my hands tucked into my jeans.
We’d spent a lot of time at my place, so tonight, we were having dinner here.
Though, with the news I’d gotten today, I couldn’t stay late.
I had to be fresh for my first morning skate in the NAPH.
Stella strolled in front of her walkway. “Oh, hey there, Lucas.” She waved at me.
“Hey, Stella. How are you?” I stepped across landscaping rocks to where she stood. She’d helped Ezra out so much. I owed her some of my time.
“I’m doing well, thanks. I hear Ezra’s mother is coming to see him.” Her eyes twinkled at me.
“She is. I suppose he talked to you about it?” I shuffled my feet on the walkway. He’d been having tea with her at least once a week.
“Yes, and I gave him the name of a good therapist he can call. It’s a woman my son saw for a time.” She offered a warm smile.
“Oh, thank you. That’ll be good for him.” Damn, we had a lot to talk about tonight. I glanced toward Ezra’s apartment.
“It will. He’s changed so much already since meeting you. I’m so glad everything is going well for the two of you.” She wrapped her hand around the doorknob. “Well, I’m off to make dinner.”
“Okay, I’ll see you around.” Ezra was supposed to make something special for me tonight, too. Giving her a quick hug, I said, “Bye and take care.”
“You too.” She opened her door.
With a deep breath, I strolled across the courtyard and knocked on Ezra’s door.
The door swung open, and Ezra stood in the entry, a wide smile on his plentiful lips and a flowered shirt open to midway on his chest. “Lucas.” Leaning in, he kissed my cheek. “Come inside. Dinner is ready.”
“Yeah? What did you make me?” He’d kept it a secret all day. I sniffed the air, heavy with garlic. “Something Italian?”
“Chicken Alfredo with garlic bread and wine.” He stepped to his dinette and spread his hand over the table, set with plates, silverware, an opened bottle of wine and a heaping bowl of pasta. Garlic bread sat in a smaller bowl covered by a napkin.
“Damn, this looks great.” Grabbing both his hands, I held them between us. He needed to hear the good news right away. I’d been holding back, too. “You know, this is perfect because I’m going to need all these carbs for my morning skate with the Cardinals.”
His brows wrinkled, and then his eyes grew big. “The NAPH team? The one Mason plays on?”
“That’s the one.” As a grin played over my lips, I said, “Turns out one of their D-men was in a car accident and will be sidelined for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh no, that’s terrible.” His gaze searched my face. “But you get to play for him?”