Chapter 24
TWENTY-FOUR
Ryan
It’s good to be back on the road again. I know a lot of teams still in this race are beginning to crave rest, but not us. We want to keep our momentum going. It’s going to be crucial for getting us through the next round.
Plus, at home, while playing in front of our home crowd is amazing, for a lot of the players, there are distractions.
A lot of them. And yes, I can already hear people complaining about us hockey players leaving our wives and kids at home for long stretches, but let’s be real.
The WAGs knew what they signed up for when they got into relationships with us.
Well, not me, obviously. Honestly, if the rest of the team knew that being gay and falling for your teammate was the cheat code to having a sexually fulfilling road life, more of them might even wish they were.
“What time is it?” Brandon mumbles against my chest.
“Almost ten.”
His stomach rumbles. “What time are we meeting my parents for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” I laugh. “They’re your parents. You figure that out.”
I feel him grumble against my skin but can’t quite make out his response. It’s funny, for someone who grew up having driveway shootout practice first thing in the morning every day as a child, and who up until recently was incapable of taking a nap, suddenly all he wants to do is sleep in.
He reaches over me to where our phones are charging on the bedside table, then rolls onto his back beside me, resting his head on my pillow. He types out a text and is given an instant response.
“They’re ten minutes out.”
“Jesus,” I say and sit up to get out of bed. “What did they do, leave at sunrise?”
“You know that’s exactly what they did,” Brandon says, making no effort to get out of bed.
I toss his Mules hoodie and sweatpants at him. “Get dressed.”
He eyes the clothes. “Are you sure you want me to wear this in enemy territory?”
“Good point.” I reach into his bag to grab something else, only to find his other option is his red tattered UDub sweats. I toss them aside. “Well, those aren’t going to help either. Did you bring anything else to wear besides suits and threadbare sweats?”
He finally sits up and shrugs at me with an innocent smile on his face. “No.”
I shake my head at him and then move to the closet to grab some of my clothes for the both of us.
“I thought you liked me in my sweats?”
“I do,” I say as I try to find something suitable for him to wear. “But we’re about to have breakfast with your parents.”
“Yeah.” He laughs. “My parents already know I’m a slob who can’t dress himself.” He gets out of bed and steps into his Mules sweatpants. “Seriously, this is fine.”
I take a moment to look him over as he pulls the light hooded sweatshirt on and zips it up over the white tank top he fell asleep in. It really is fine. He looks relaxed and comfortable, and the material of the pants stretches enticingly over his muscular thighs and round butt.
And yes, his hair is a mess, but he’s also wearing my favorite crooked smile of his that quietly says, this is when he feels his best.
I step to him and smooth the flyaway strands of his hair down and tuck them behind his ears.
“Thanks, Dad,” he says with a teasing grin.
I laugh and give him a quick kiss. “Baby, don’t you dare start calling me that.”
Brandon
My entire life I’ve always been secretive. But even I have to admit that it’s weird sitting across from my parents in this booth hiding the fact from them that Ryan and I are together. They wouldn’t care. Honestly, they’d be thrilled about it. But how does one even broach that subject?
Hey, Mom and Dad. Did you know that mine and Ryan’s feet are hooked around each other under the cover of this table?
Guess what? We also share a bed on road trips.
Or probably the best one. Do you both remember when I was fourteen and completely destroyed when Ryan moved out?
Well, turns out, I’m still in love with him.
Yeah, we’re going to continue skipping all that. But I also can’t help but be pissed at myself for having never come out to them in the first place. That conversation is long overdue.
“So,” my dad says. “Have you talked to Ander lately?”
I finish chewing, then swallow the bite of my breakfast sandwich I had just taken. “We spoke shortly after the playoffs started.”
“You haven’t spoken to him since?” my mom asks.
“No.” I shrug. “It’s the playoffs. We’re both a little busy right now.”
“Have you seen any of the interviews he’s done about potentially playing against you?” my dad asks.
“Not really,” I sigh. “That’s not something I want to focus on right now. It’s not even all that likely. I don’t know why people are making such a big deal about it.”
My mother tilts her head at me. “Are you upset about it?”
“No.” I shrug. “That’s not it. It’s just—”
“We don’t need the distraction,” Ryan says, leaning forward over his plate and shoveling a bite of his omelet into his mouth. I could kiss him right now if it wasn’t for our present company.
“I think it’s fun,” my mom says. “We’ve even had reporters calling us.”
Ryan wipes his lips with his napkin, then takes a sip of his coffee. “What are they asking you about?”
“The boys, obviously,” she says, then smiles at Ryan. “And you too, actually. It seems a lot of people are taking an interest in the fact that you billeted with us.”
“It’s a good story,” my dad says, taking a bite of his toast. “Human interest type of thing.”
“What do you know about human interest?” I ask him.
“Enough to know that people think it’s pretty special that the two of you are playing together now. And that he and Ander used to play on the same team. People like that sort of thing.”
“Alright, I see your point,” I grumble then go back to eating my breakfast sandwich.
Ryan presses his leg more firmly against mine under the cover of the table. He digs back into his omelet.
“Why is this upsetting you so much?” my mother asks, not letting it rest.
“It’s not,” I deny. “I just don’t like the attention.”
“You picked a strange profession then,” my dad says. “Attention comes with the contract.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Nah,” Ryan says, chewing his food. “I know what he means. We just want to play hockey. It’s a team sport. None of us got into this to be the center of attention.” He looks at my parents and grins at them. “Except for Ander. He loves it.”
“You should love it too,” Mom says, looking at him fondly. “You’re such a heartthrob out there. How have you not found yourself a girlfriend yet?”
Ryan knocks my ankle with his foot, and laughs. “Too busy playing hockey for all that.”
Smiling, my mother says, “I think you two should enjoy the extra attention. You’ve earned it.”
“Maybe.” Ryan spears a potato wedge with his fork then brings it to his mouth.
“But I think after the Olympics, and the way people are salivating for content, a lot of this attention is just that. After the Marshal and Kennedy scandal, people are desperate for the next big story in sports since Tom Brady and his allegedly under-inflated balls.”
“Ryan.” My mother shakes her head, but she’s also snickering. “You’re terrible.”
“It’s just the truth.” Ryan shrugs, as he takes the last bite of his breakfast.