Chapter 19
Thayer
We found a balance that worked for us– it only took about a month, but we finally found it.
Ash was playing amazingly, and he was getting better at self-regulating when he was angry…with the assistance of some firm redirection from me when it got bad. I never put my hands on him in public–not anymore–but sometimes just my tone of voice was enough of a hit for him to start stabilizing.
It also helped a ton that it was a temporary solution–he knew he’d get his when we got home.
Ash basically lived at my house, only going back to his dorm now every few days when Carp would say something to him about it. He kept clothes at my house, and his gear now took up residency in my closet, right next to mine; only his didn’t have dust coating it.
We found a calm that worked for us both.
Dating was a bit hard in our situation, but Ash was just as happy with dinner on my balcony as he was the few times we'd ventured out on a real date to see a new movie.
He just wanted the quality time with me, but he seemed to like it more when that quality time could be done in pajamas and snuggled under a blanket on my couch.
In public, we looked like any normal coach and player combination…so long as no one looked too closely.
“He lives,” Reed teased, raising his arm jokingly as I walked out to the sidelines of the rink. “I was starting to think you only existed in my memory–”
“You saw me yesterday, pal,” I chuckled, taking up the spot next to him against the boards to watch the guys warm up. “In fact, you see me almost every day–”
“I see you, but you don’t actually talk,” he chastised, granting me the reprieve of at least not looking at me while he did so. “You get here right as the guys need us and leave right after–you get off calls as fast as humanly possible.”
Okay…that was true.
It was hard having a secret boyfriend, especially one with as much energy as Ash. The kid could survive on a sugar-free Red Bull and a pack of gum for three days if you let him, which meant a lot of work for me.
And Reed had a bad habit of calling while I was taking advantage of that fun little quirk in Ash’s throat.
Besides, Ash was…Ash–he was a shithead.
He knew how bad this would be if anyone found out now, yet he’d laugh and mess with me when I was on the phone with Reed. He once stopped doing homework when he heard me on the phone, just so he could make my life harder with his pretty mouth on any piece of skin he could find.
“Been a busy month,” I mumbled, sucking in a slow, centering breath. “Settling in, family stuff–”
“New boyfriend,” Reed continued for me, smirking over at me when he saw my stumped face. “Come on, even without hearing the guy when I’d call you, you were way more available a month ago. Either you got a new boyfriend, or you adopted a kid I don't know about.”
“Might as well have,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes a little.
When I looked over again, Reed was still watching me, waiting for me to say if he was right or wrong.
“It’s…new.”
“Now we’re talkin',” he laughed, going back to watching the guys.
Ash was already out warming up by his goal with headphones in, probably on song four of his playlist now. I knew his routine well at this point, which meant I also knew better than to bug him until he was done with this part, even if there was no game tonight.
The kid was ritualistic to a fault sometimes.
“Tell me about the guy–he must be good if he's got you all locked away,” Reed teased, gesturing at the bench for me to sit with him–the guys still had most of their warm-ups left.
Something ugly twisted in my gut.
I'd never been dishonest about who I was dating. I'd always been proud of being gay, and all that, and I was proud to be with Ash, but I couldn’t be–not outwardly. I couldn’t be honest about the man I slept next to every night…but vague truths?
“He’s great,” I hummed, smiling over at Reed playfully. “Sweet, funny, playful–I have a really great time with him.”
“Hm,” he huffed, scrunching his face at me with a smirk. “What else?” he asked suspiciously. “You’re withholding something. Otherwise, you’d have just told me you were dating someone, so.”
“He’s uh,” I trailed off, readjusting uncomfortably at the idea of telling him the truth. “He’s just quite a bit…younger than me–that’s all. Still wrapping my head around it.”
“College towns,” Reed sighed, shaking his head almost sympathetically. “I’ve been living in Ann Arbor for ten years now–I can count on one hand how many times I’ve dated a woman born in the same generation as me… Never works out for me.”
Fuck.
I mean, great–he didn’t immediately jump to being grossed out by me or assuming I was fucking one of our players, but fuck. I’d thought a lot about whether Ash and I could work long-term, and I kept coming up with yes…
But was that realistic?
Realistically, Ash had NHL dreams.
At best, he would get drafted who knows where–and sure, I could follow him, but then what? He’d be in the prime of his life and coming home to a guy who thought staying up until eleven was hard now that I was retired.
“How much younger?” Reed asked, half his attention on the boys again.
“A bit,” I sighed, nodding slowly. “Teens.”
“High or low?”
“Middle.”
“I sure hope you mean in age gap and not age,” he laughed, making me bust out in my own fit of laughter that I kind of needed.
“Age gap,” I laughed, clutching my stomach with him. “He’s above drinking age–”
“You’ll be fine,” he sighed, settling his laughter comfortably. “I’m almost fifty, Thay–me dating a twenty-five-year-old versus you are two wildly different things.”
“Yeah,” I huffed, rolling my eyes a little bit. “I guess… I guess I’m just worried about the long term. You know, life after college, career, personal lives–I’ll have to meet his parents at some point, and what if I’m closer in age to them than him, you know?”
“You probably will be,” he chuckled, nudging me gently. “I mean, what, a month? I think you’re stressing yourself out over stuff like that a bit too soon.”
There was no way to tell Reed that it may have only been a month, but that I was so wrapped around that kid's finger that I’d drop to my knees for him right now.
I couldn’t tell him that my whole brain was consumed by Ash and all his little things, like the scrunch in his nose when he didn’t like his food, or the snotty tone he used when he was tired and fighting sleep.
That maybe it was too soon for a normal couple to stress about those things, but that I was already mentally mapping out where all of Ash’s stuff would go in my apartment after this semester.
“But if you really feel that strongly about the guy, you have to have faith he does, too, right?” he asked, paying no mind to my spiral. “That he’ll still want you when life, career, and family do become a factor for him–that he’ll still have you at the center of it.”
It was small, but a part of me did settle with that.
It may have been messy and wrong to most people–myself included, for a minute there–but what I felt for Ash was so right. It was real and right and perfect for us.
And as concerned as I was about what happened next, I was undoubtedly sure of at least one thing–Ash felt like this was right for him, too.
Ash felt cared for and happy–he told me so every day. He told me with his mouth, his body, his actions–he was more at peace in the brief times we were here than I’d ever seen him before. He’d work himself up, but he’d come down from it so much better, and softer, and happier.
It was stupid of me to even be a little concerned that he wouldn’t still choose this when that stuff mattered–he'd chosen me already, over and over.
He’d choose me again when it mattered.
…God, I hoped he would.