15. Oskar
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
OSKAR
The moment I step into the hallway, Kai’s eyes flash with something dangerous. It disappears as quickly as it came, and the emptiness that follows is worse.
“Come on,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. Whatever this is, I can’t let it happen out here.
He lets me take his elbow, which scares me more than the anger. His muscles are stiff as I guide him to one of the small meeting rooms the coaches use.
As soon as I close the door behind us, he jerks his arm away. “You’re a hockey player? A fucking goalie?”
The room is cramped, barely big enough for a table and four chairs. Fluorescent lights buzz to life as I pull out a chair for him. “Sit.”
“I don’t want to fucking sit. I want answers.”
He’s going to combust if I don’t get him feeling safe.
“Please sit down, Kai.”
He glares at me but drops into the chair anyway. Letting out a harsh breath, he starts tapping a rhythm on the table. I claim the seat next to him so I can shield him from the door, then picture my parents’ summer house at Lake Hj?lmaren. The tension in my chest eases.
“I know you were surprised to see me tonight,” I begin, keeping my voice even.
Kai gives a mighty scoff and swivels his chair away, staring at a crack in the wall to avoid my eyes. “Surprised?” he says. “Try blindsided. You lied to me, and I find out like this? In front of thousands of people?”
I want to say that if I lied, he did too. But I hold back. This cannot become a shouting match. “I understand why it feels that way, but I did not lie.”
“Bullshit.”
“You never asked me what my new job was.”
He looks over long enough for me to see a crack of vulnerability. “You sure played fast and loose with the truth,” he grumbles.
“Yes. We both held things back, but that is not why you walked away.”
His fingers tap faster as he turns his chair around to face me. “I was scared, Oskar. I still am.” His jaw tightens as soon as the words are out. “That doesn’t make this okay.”
“I know. I like you, and…” When the words catch in my throat, I pause and try again. “I did not want to risk ruining it before I understood what it was.”
“How would telling me have ruined anything?”
“Because I knew you were afraid, and I did not want to make it worse. Remember that I did not know you were a goalie.”
His expression softens a degree or two, and he drags a hand through his damp hair. “Still doesn’t mean you get to decide what I can handle.”
I let a moment pass. “Why did you not tell me about what you do?”
“Because I…” He looks at the ceiling, moving his mouth without saying anything.
“Because what?” I ask.
He lets out a shaky breath. “It was a hookup. I only do hookups, and I don’t tell people about myself. I don’t want…” He shakes his head and drums on the table faster.
“You do not want to get involved,” I finish for him.
“Or let them think it’s more than it is. I’m not a total jerk.”
“I never thought you were. You were frightened. And when I learned who you are, I understood more about why.”
His fingers stop tapping on the table. For the first time since we entered the room, he meets my eyes. “When did you find out? The way you strutted onto the ice, you obviously knew.”
“I did not mean to strut. I only wanted to see you better.”
“Get fucking serious,” he snaps. “You staged it like we were in a goddamn opera.”
“I did not stage anything.” My voice has gotten sharper. “I saw you, and I reacted.”
He lowers his gaze to the table and stays quiet.
Afraid he might get up and leave, I brace myself, knowing I have to get us past this. “I knew who you were because I found you on the web. After you went away, when you were telling me nothing, and I was trying to understand what happened.”
His head snaps up, his eyes dark and stormy. “Fuck you. Too bad I didn’t think of that.”
I am tempted to grab his shoulders and shake him, but the wet sheen on his lower eyelids stops me.
“Kai, I apologize if I invaded your privacy, but I did not know what was going on. I still don’t, except that you were afraid.”
That brings the fire back. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, his voice bouncing off the close walls. “Why should I justify myself to you? We weren’t boyfriends. We weren’t anything.”
“You are wrong. We were something. Who knows what we could still be?”
“We can’t be anything!” Panic has filled his ever-changing eyes. “We’re on rival teams. We have to play against each other three more times this year, and that’s only in the regular season. If we make the playoffs, it could be more.”
“My parents are both lawyers in Sweden. They argue in court and still get along. Have you never had friends on other teams?”
“This isn’t about friendship, and you know it. Stop pretending you don’t understand.”
“I understand,” I say, trying to ignore my racing heart. “But I do not understand why that matters more than what we had. More than this.”
“This?” He gestures between us. “Don’t make us into something we never were.”
“Then why did you call me out of the locker room after a game?”
His jaw works for a moment. “Because I deserved to hear it from you, not from some announcer. From what you told me, I thought you were a Swedish guy with a new job.”
“When did you decide to leave town?”
His lips part, but it takes him a moment to say, “Do you seriously—”
I raise a hand to stop him. “Look, I am not asking for promises. Only a chance to figure this out. We don’t have to be angry, Kai. We can choose—”
“God!” He presses his fists to his forehead and groans. When he drops his hands, he looks exhausted. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Because you are scared, or because you don’t want to know?”
He starts drumming on the table again. “Does it matter?”
“It matters to me.”
“Well, it shouldn’t.” He stands and motions me out of the way, so I get up and step aside. “We play against each other next month,” he says. “I’ll see you on the ice.”
Before I can answer, someone knocks and pushes the door open. It is one of his teammates.
“Kai, the security guard said you were in here. Bus is leaving in five minutes. You coming with us?”
“Yes. Oskar and I are finished.”
He walks to the door, then stops and looks back at me. His mouth opens like he is about to say something. Then he shakes his head and leaves.
He has left me alone in this claustrophobic room. The air still smells of his cologne, something sharp and clean I remember from those August days.
I lower my eyes and stare at the exact spot on the table where Kai was tapping. After a moment, I trace it with my finger.
J?vlar.
The heavy silence makes my chest ache as the truth sets in—he just walked away again. This time, I know exactly who he is, but that is no help. Kai is slipping back behind his walls, and I don’t know if I will ever have another chance to pull him out.