Twenty-Four
OWEN
Zak’s been quiet the last few days. Somber almost. No, maybe that’s not the right word. Detached? Is that it? He hovers between the bed and the couch. I can almost see that he doesn’t feel comfortable in the space yet. He doesn’t see it as his. It’s still mine.
I’m not sure how to change that. Especially since spending money causes him anxiety when I do it for his benefit.
I can’t make this feel like home that way.
I’ve already had his cum cover every single surface before he even moved in, so it’s not like christening every room will make him feel differently.
Standing in the kitchen, I watch him curled up on the couch, just staring out the big windows.
The idea that this is what he does all day when I’m not here bothers me.
That means he’s left with these thoughts, and I can only imagine how exhausting that can be.
Fighting the urge to leave because I want him to stay.
“Zak?” His head swivels to look at me, offering me a small smile. “Breakfast is ready.”
He hasn’t cooked with me since before his breakdown a few days ago. While he’s been physically just as close, if not closer, since then, he’s mentally not quite present most of the time.
Getting to his feet, he folds the blanket and sets it neatly to the side before joining me in the kitchen. He’s wearing one of my hoodies again. I love it so damn much. It occurred to me two days ago that I’ll really have to start worrying if he stops wearing them.
When he takes his usual stool, I push a plate to him. His eyes widen and then he breaks out into a grin. Maybe I got a little corny this morning and made him pancakes in the shape of hearts. Then made little hearts with mini chocolate chips and whipped cream.
His laughter warms me and I grin.
“You’re corny and sweet. I love it.”
I bring another stack over—all hearts—and then join him with my own plate. “They’re made with protein mix since I didn’t make any meat to go along with it.”
Zak pauses as he’s bringing his first bite to his mouth. “Is that a warning that they might not taste good? I’ve heard about protein mixes.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “Eat them and tell me what you think.”
He looks at the bite suspiciously, but then puts it in his mouth. His eyes close and he ‘mmm’s. “Okay, it’s so good!”
“When I get back, I’ll make you a protein shake. A good one. But I can admit that some taste like chalk.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. Also, cardboard and artificial flavor is another common description.”
“All true.”
He smirks and continues to eat. I study him as he does.
Right now, he looks more content than he has in days.
Yet, I know that’s going to change within the hour.
I’m on my way out for another streak of away games.
This time, only three games over five days.
Still too long, but not as bad as it could be.
What really has me concerned is that we’re in line for the playoffs.
Which I’m fucking ecstatic about. Our chances are good and we’re kicking some ass.
Silently, I think we have a chance for the Stanley Cup.
Not that I’ve allowed myself to even think of that possibility since I don’t want to jinx it.
But if we make it to the playoffs, that’s more than just days away. That’s weeks. Possibly more than a month. I can only imagine how Zak’s going to handle that time. I’ll have to think of something.
He received his ID in the mail yesterday, something that truly made him happy. He even texted Gravity and his other friends to tell them the news. We sat down on my laptop after and I pointed him to the site with the instructions on how to get his GED next.
I saw the dark, haunted look in his eyes when he saw there was a fee associated with it. Smaller than that for his ID, but a fee nonetheless.
Instead of saying anything, he got up and left the room. I was about to follow him when he returned with a $100 bill. His cheeks flush. “I have some money left from the escort job for which you severely overpaid.”
There’s a stubborn jut to his chin when he offers me the cash.
There’s no way in hell I’m actually taking it.
Except that I take it and make a show of sticking it in my wallet.
It won’t stay there. I’ll hide it somewhere else.
Or maybe make him a bank account. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.
But right now, it’s more important for him to feel like he’s paying for this than it is for me to refuse the money.
He seems to relax after that as we finish signing him up for his GED. Together, we place an order for supplies he’ll need, for which he brings me more cash. Without comment, I pocket it.
At least I know he’ll have something to occupy himself while I’m gone this time.
We clean up breakfast together. When I’m done loading the dishwasher, I turn to find him leaning against the counter with a sad expression.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“I hate when you go,” he says.
My heart feels like it tears in half at his words.
I tug him to me, making him laugh when he stumbles from the force of it, and hug him fiercely.
“Believe me when I tell you, I hate it with every fiber of my being. Which is pretty incredible because until I met you, hockey was the only thing in my life that mattered at all.”
“I don’t want to get between you and hockey,” he says. “I would never ask?—”
“I know,” I interrupt. “It’s not like I’m giving up hockey. I know this is hard right now for various reasons, but I have confidence it’ll get better. We just have to get to that point. Keep fighting together. Can you do that?”
He huffs. “Yeah.” I know he feels like he’s the reason. All of them. He’s not. Zak is not an obstacle at all. He’s the light at the end of the tunnel. I have every confidence that we’re going to make it.
I tip his face up to mine and stare into his dark eyes. “You know you can have your friends over, right?”
Zak nods, but I’m not sure he’s convinced of that.
“I mean it. I want you to feel at home. Whatever you need, I’ll make that happen. But that also means I want you to feel comfortable having your friends over. At any time, but especially when I’m not here.” I rub his cheek with my thumb. His skin is always so soft.
He takes a deep inhale and nods. “Okay.”
“For you,” I amend. “Not because I say you should.”
The corner of his lip quirks up. “Noted.”
I kiss him. This hasn’t changed between us. The all-consuming sensation of getting lost in him the second our mouths come together. He tastes like heaven. Like everything I love—sweat, ice, cold air, hot bodies… Zak.
Predictably, the incessant knocking on my door makes us sigh and pull away. I promised that I’d introduce him to my friends when I got back from the last games, but that didn’t happen. They’re here early, no doubt with that in mind.
“Want to meet them?” I ask.
Zak’s eyes get wide and flicker to the door.
“You can say no. Linden’s a lot, but he’s a good guy. He means well.”
Zak bites his lips and looks at me. I’m not sure what he’s looking for or what he finds, but I see the resolve in his face right away. He nods. “Yes.”
I kiss him again and pull him to the door. Pulling it open, I’m greeted with Linden. His eyes blown wide, surprised that I answered, apparently. Chuckling, I pull Zak to my side, slightly in front of me, and wrap my arm across his chest, just below his shoulders.
Linden’s eyes drop to him and his face lights up and Menlo comes toward us now that he sees I’m actually ready to share my boyfriend. Well, share his existence. Not him. Not a fucking chance of that.
“This is Linden,” I tell Zak. “And Menlo. This is my boyfriend, Zak.”
Zak gives them both a shy, awkward wave and presses backward into me. I tighten my hold on him, making sure he knows I’m here.
“Hi!” Linden says. “You’re real.”
I roll my eyes. Menlo shoves him with a frown. “Nice to meet you, Zak.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Linden says quickly. “I just mean, well, that you’re here. Look at you. You’re really here and he’s letting us meet you. You’re as cute as a button, Zak!”
Zak twists to look up at me, mystified, not at all sure what to say or do. I chuckle and kiss his temple.
Menlo sighs. “Easy, Lin. You’re going to make him think you’re crazy.”
Linden isn’t at all discouraged. He turns a beaming smile on Zak and doesn’t look away. Zak shifts on his feet.
Menlo sighs and pulls Linden toward the elevator. “We’ll meet you downstairs, Vinny.”
I nod and we watch Linden protest until he’s shut up inside the elevator.
“He seems… nice.”
Laughter bursts out of me. “He is. One of the biggest softies you’ll ever meet, despite him being a damn bear. But he has very little filter and even less sense of social cues. It’s cute, but I remember what it’s like just meeting him.”
Zak turns in my arms and hugs me, his eyes looking right into mine. “Hurry home, okay?”
I nod. “As soon as I can get here, I will.”
* * *
As soon as I get into the hotel room, I pull my phone out and dial.
“Hey, Owen,” Gravity says. “He didn’t take off, did he?”
I frown. If Gravity’s asking, he’s expecting it too.
“No,” I tell him. “He says he’s not going to.
” The way my words trail off, I can hear that a ‘but’ is supposed to continue.
I don’t let the word hitch a ride, though.
I very determinedly end that fucking sentence.
He says he’s staying. I’m going to trust that he will.
“Look, I want to do something for him. Zak needs something to do during the day or he’s going to drive himself crazy stuck in his head. I need some suggestions.”
“Oh!” he says excitedly. “I have an idea, but it’s probably not the cheapest.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t put a price limit on it.”
“Okay, good. Zak’s biggest passion is upcycling clothes.”
Frowning, I look around the room, trying to place the word. What the fuck does that mean? “Explain a little more?”
Gravity laughs. “He loves to redesign and embellish clothes. Like, taking something old and adding other fabric. He made our outfits for the New Year’s Eve party.”
“Ah.”
“He’s always had this passing dream he likes to laugh about, but I know he truly wants to have a shop called Zak’s Closet where he can make upcycled clothes for people.”
“A clothing shop,” I say.
“It’s more than that,” Gravity insists. “Look it up, Owen.”
“Upcycle. Got it.”
“No. Upcycled clothes. He doesn’t give a shit about upcycling furniture or bottles or shit.”
I chuckle. “Sorry. Didn’t realize it was an entire movement.”
“Ah, the rich.” I bristle and narrow my eyes at the phone.
Gravity laughs. “I’m messing with you. It’s niche, but he’s really fucking good at it.
He just needs a lot to do it. Edgar, Clarinda, and I have always pooled resources, so he had some things to do from time to time.
It not only gave him a reason to stay here, because yes, he needed to convince himself that he had to have a reason instead of staying because I invited him to.
But it also made him happy. You want to see that man smile?
Get him some scraps of clothes and a sewing machine. ”
I nod thoughtfully. “Thanks. I appreciate this.”
“No problem.” He hesitates before asking, “Is he doing okay?”
I sigh. “There are moments when he seems really good and others when he’s… not.”
Gravity’s return sigh is heavy. “Please don’t give up on him. The fact that he’s made it almost a month there says that he really fucking wants to be there. But he’s going to continue to struggle. He’s been through far too much for being so young.”
“I’ve gotten hints of that,” I tell him. “And don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. He’s my end game, even if he doesn’t fully believe that yet.”
I can hear Gravity’s smile now. “I’m really, really glad, Owen. He deserves you. He deserves so much.”
“I’ll give him everything.”
We end the call and I fall onto my bed with my phone in hand. First sending my man a text to let him know I’m here and that I miss him, and then to begin my research on upcycling clothes.
This string of away games is only five days but I’m hoping in that time, I’ll have been able to find something for Zak to work on. Something that will make him happy.