Chapter Four #2
Breezy cleared his throat. “Okay, um… Tom, I appreciate how seriously you take me. You’ve never looked at me like I’m dumb even when I say, just, the stupidest shit.
Jax, you never take yourself seriously when you’re doing amazing stuff, on the ice or off it.
You keep it fun, and you’re a really good dude. ”
He looked around hesitantly, but everyone stared at him silently.
“Dmitriyev,” he continued. “You put up with so much from the D last year when we were all over the place, and you still bought us vodka shots when we got kicked out of playoffs. Thanks for those, and please don’t do it again.”
There was a smattering of laughter from Dmitriyev and the two Russian prospects.
“We call you Breezy because you are lightweight,” Dmitriyev called out, and the laughter intensified.
“Um, I have more than three, if that’s okay?”
Lindy gestured for him to go on.
Breezy proceeded to compliment Howie on his ability to learn from his mistakes.
He talked about how hard Howie had been working on his backcheck.
But from the way Howie’s chest puffed up as he smiled to himself, Luca understood that Breezy was also referring to how he’d owned up to his other errors.
Next, Breezy told Mooney how glad he was Mooney didn’t take anyone’s shit, and then he told Nieminen he had brought Breezy around on some horrifying Finnish fish delicacy.
The longer he went on, the clearer it became he had something nice to say about each and every member of the team.
He thanked Hayes for the great time at his wedding over the summer—Breezy had been one of the few members of the team who had attended—and Vanderbilt for always being down to hit up the clubs on the road.
Even the prospects and new guys got compliments.
Finally, Breezy looked at Luca. “And, um, Luca, you’re the best roommate a guy could ask for.
Seriously, guys, I lucked out. He cleans up after himself; he brings me fancy cheese from Berkeley…
I know he can seem kind of unapproachable because he’s, like, ridiculously talented, but Luca is the nicest guy I know. ”
Luca stared intensely at the emergency procedures pamphlet in the seatback pocket in front of him, his ears hot.
He was not nice. The last thing he needed was the other guys expecting him to do things for them for no apparent reason—such as going to Berkeley to get cheese.
Or worse, asking why he treated Breezy so differently.
He could only coast on the strange, intimate nature of hockey friendships and the aggressive no-homo attitude of professional sports for so long before it became obvious his feelings for Breezy were nowhere in the realm of the platonic.
“All right, everyone, give Breezy a hand!” Lindy said.
The whole plane clapped, and Breezy, totally unashamed of having stood in front of the whole group and bared his feelings, grinned and took a seat.
“Tough act to follow,” Lindy prompted, “but who’s going to do it?”
It turned out everyone had something good to say about at least three other guys.
In a show of goodwill, Hayes even managed to compliment Mooney on his slapshot.
Luca found the whole experience so embarrassing he sank lower and lower in his seat every time someone said something nice about him, racking up a debt in kindness he could never repay.
He hated having to say nice things. He was terrible at it, and he avoided it whenever possible. Sarcasm came so much easier.
But eventually, he couldn’t put it off any longer when Fedorov, the Russian prospie who barely spoke a word of English, had taken his turn.
With an aggrieved sigh, Luca got to his feet, cursing Breezy out mentally for having the fortitude and decency to make them all stand for this experience.
“Mooney, I appreciate that you find this flight as painful as I do.”
Mooney laughed, but Lindy played the stupid foghorn noise.
Luca sighed. “And congratulations on your new girlfriend. She is far out of your league.”
Again, the foghorn.
“You are very good at Mario Kart.”
Lindy beamed. “I knew you’d get there. One down, two to go.”
Two more. Christ, what could he possibly say about these idiots?
He’d never met anyone as energetic as Jax, but there was no way Luca could pretend he meant that as a compliment.
Howie must have good characteristics buried somewhere under all the teenage angst, but Luca hadn’t discovered them yet.
In his opinion, Hayes and Vanderbilt were unmitigated assholes, and he hadn’t ingratiated himself with the Russians and the Scandinavians enough to be able to make a heartfelt and true statement about any of them.
“Tom, you are a very good captain,” he said, which didn’t get him a foghorn because Lindy hadn’t figured out when he was lying.
Yet. He wouldn’t put it past her to learn his tells.
Tom was an all right captain with Jax there to help, but when Luca thought of who on the team had made him feel at home—who had made him feel welcome and wanted—he did not think of Tom.
“Breezy,” he said. “Um…”
As Breezy gazed at him with big, excited eyes, Luca knew he needed to deliver, but the thought of everyone else witnessing him confessing what Breezy meant to him made him break out in a cold sweat.
Admitting here and now that Breezy was his favorite person, including anyone in his own family?
How talking to Breezy and being around him filled Luca with constant, consistent delight?
That Breezy’s way of viewing the world was so good and kind it healed a part of Luca he thought had lost belief in goodness and kindness?
How Luca wanted to hold him, and kiss him, and, in a shameful part of his psyche, longed to be held and kissed by him?
He couldn’t say a single word of his true feelings.
But what else could he do?
Aware of the entire plane waiting for him to finish the sentence, he said the first thing he could think of. “Your underwear always makes me laugh.”
The whole plane exploded into laughter.
Breezy flushed brilliant red.
Luca escaped to his seat and let out a shaky breath.
“Brutal, dude,” Mooney muttered. “Can’t believe she didn’t give you another foghorn.”
“She’s seen it.” Luca pulled his phone out of the seat pocket in front of him. Lindy had made clear from day one that as their coach she would be in their locker room, regardless of whether or not they had their dicks out.
They didn’t have the kind of locker room where guys sat around in the nude all the time. In fact, over the past year or so, Luca hadn’t seen anyone’s cock for more than a second before a towel or clothing covered it. Nonetheless, it would have been hard not to notice Breezy’s boxer briefs.
“Which ones are you wearing today?” Hayes called out.
Breezy, overcoming his mortification in a matter of seconds, made a show of pulling the waistband up out of his pants. “Flamingos,” he called back.
“Where do you even get those, bro?” Jax asked.
“There’s a special store online I order from. They do new patterns every couple of months.”
“Okay, let me revise the question. Why do you even get those, bro?”
“They’re the only brand I could find that fits.”
“How can underwear not fit you? They make different sizes.” Howie’s incredulous voice carried over the two rows between them with ease.
Luca wanted to sink into his seat. He was the worst. He hadn’t merely embarrassed himself; he’d embarrassed Breezy as well, and now they both had to live with the consequences.
“I don’t know, man. I tried every store I could think of, but either they were so big the waist kept slipping or, uh, stuff kept, like, popping out.”
Briefly, blessed silence fell throughout the cabin. Luca wondered if now would be a good time to start a loud conversation about luxury car models or golf or something else hockey players cared about so the present subject was forgotten.
Then, in a voice so loud even the flight attendants around the corner from the main area must have heard him, Howie asked, “Dude, are you saying your dick is too big for regular underwear?”
“I mean, the colors are also fun,” Breezy offered.
“Oh God,” Luca muttered to himself. He wanted to eject himself from the plane.
This was why his nonna told him to take a rosary to the States every time he left.
She must have had some sort of prophetic vision about him being trapped on a plane full of teammates while the object of his affection admitted to having such a large penis he couldn’t wear regular clothing.
She knew he would need divine intervention to survive.
The Catholic Church probably didn’t give out sainthoods for cock-related visions.
Next to him, Mooney collapsed into giggles.
“You gotta admit this tracks,” he said when he was able to breathe again. “He is big all over.”
An unhelpful image of Breezy splayed out on the couch, his big thighs spread under Luca’s touch, paraded across Luca’s mind’s eye.
“Yes,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Now we know why you can’t keep a girl around!” Vanderbilt hollered from behind him somewhere. “They’re all running in fear of your massive schlong!”
Luca saw Breezy’s shoulders tighten.
He twisted in his seat to stare down Vanderbilt. “Better than a married man fucking anything on two legs.”
Dmitriyev, sitting in the row behind Vanderbilt, flinched so hard his water bottle fell off his tray table and into the aisle.
Lindy rose from her seat, presumably to interject, but the flight attendants bustled through with napkins and fresh water, and then the captain asked everyone to take their seats for landing, thus ending any further attempt at team bonding.