Chapter 15
Kai
The drive to the rink is quieter than usual.
Rain from yesterday has given way to a cool, overcast morning.
The roads are still damp, reflecting the gray sky in uneven patches as cars drift through downtown traffic.
I rest my forehead against the passenger-side window and watch the city slide past in blurred streaks of concrete and brake lights.
Today is the day. I'm going to see Noah Grove again. Not in a photograph. Not as a name sitting in my inbox. In person.
The thought settles like a stone in my stomach.
I keep trying to tell myself it'll be fine. He's another hockey player. Another teammate. I'll have to learn to read on the ice. My brain doesn't believe any of it.
It keeps seeing William instead.
Ash reaches over the center console and takes my hand without looking away from the road. His fingers lace through mine like they've done it a hundred times before. The gesture is so effortless that I don't even realize how tightly my hands had been clenched until they begin relaxing around his.
I squeeze back.
He answers with the same quiet pressure.
No words. He doesn't ask whether I'm okay. He already knows the answer.
My thoughts drift back to this morning.
I'd barely been awake when I'd felt Ash's arms wrap around me. One moment, I'd been buried beneath warm blankets, convinced it was still the middle of the night. The next I'd opened my eyes to find him looking at me with an intensity I hadn't seen before.
His mouth found mine before I could blink the sleep away. Ash's hands held my face as his tongue explored me. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I need you,” Ash groaned into my throat.
“Have me, then.”
I rolled on top of him, grinding his cock between my ass cheeks.
“I'm so glad you fell asleep naked,” Ash joked.
I laughed into his mouth.
I spit in my hand, positioned his dick to my entrance, and eased back slowly. Ash threw his head back against the pillows.
“Not a pillow prince today, huh?” I said.
Ash responded by grabbing my neck and pulling me down to kiss him.
“Don't leave me,” Ash said as his hips pumped up into me.
Kissing him lazily is my new favorite hobby. I rode him until he got frustrated with my teasing and flipped me onto my back.
“Stay with me forever,” Ash bit my pec hard enough to leave a mark.
I cried out, lacing my fingers in his long hair until we came together.
It had felt amazing, being so relaxed while his voice whispered in my ear.
But now that I think back to it, there had been something almost desperate about him. Like he'd needed to reassure himself that I was still there.
Even afterward he'd held me tighter than usual. He'd barely let me out of his arms. I'd wanted to ask what was wrong. The question sat on the tip of my tongue for nearly an hour. I never found the courage. Because I still don't know what we are.
Friends don't usually wake each other up by asking for a quickie before sunrise. People who are only having sex don't usually spend entire days dragging each other to fun activities and saying stay with me forever.
Boyfriends…
I glance sideways at Ash. His eyes remain on the road. One hand rests easily on the steering wheel while the other continues holding mine.
Boyfriends probably tell each other they're boyfriends.
Whatever this is, neither of us has given it a name. The uncertainty doesn't bother me as much as it probably should. Mostly because every day Ash seems to do something else that makes caring about him a little more dangerous.
He bought me books.
He washed my hair.
He cleaned my apartment without making me feel ashamed.
He skipped practice for me.
He held me while I cried.
I stare out the windshield. What exactly am I giving him? The question sneaks into my thoughts before I can stop it. Relationships—whatever ours is—are supposed to go both ways.
Ash keeps taking care of me. What do I do for him?
He has never asked me for anything besides honesty. Even then, I don't think I'm giving him enough. The thought follows me until the familiar outline of the arena comes into view.
My stomach immediately knots.
Ash turns into the players' parking lot and backs smoothly into his usual space. The truck falls silent. I stare through the windshield. Every heartbeat pounds hard enough that I can feel it beneath my ribs.
For a second, I wonder if I'll actually be sick.
Ash turns toward me. “We don't have to do this.”
I look over. “What?”
“We can leave.”
I blink.
“If you get inside and it's too much…” He shrugs. “We leave.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
The certainty in his voice catches me off guard.
“I mean it,” he says. “The second you want out, we're gone.”
Nobody has ever given me permission to leave before.
The realization sits quietly between us. Ash doesn't rush me or fill the silence. He simply waits.
I look toward the entrance then back at him. “I want to try.”
Something warm flashes across his face. Pride. It's gone almost as quickly as it appears.
I pretend I didn't see it. Mostly because I don't know what to do with the way it makes my chest feel.
“Okay,” he says softly.
We climb out of the truck together. He doesn't let go of my hand until we're inside the players' entrance.
The familiar smell of sharpened skates, laundry detergent, and coffee greets us immediately. For once, it feels almost comforting. I carry my bag toward my stall.
Noah isn't here yet. Relief slips through me before I have the chance to stop it. Maybe I'll have another few minutes.
“Damn!” Dante's voice echoes across the room before I can even sit down. He walks over wearing one skate and somehow not falling over.
“You two should've told me you were playing hooky yesterday.”
Ash snorts behind me.
“I would've joined,” Dante continues. “Could've made it a group activity.”
“You would've complained the whole time,” Ash says.
“I absolutely would've.”
I laugh. “Granted, I also complained the whole time.”
Dante grins triumphantly. “See? Hayes gets me.”
Ash gives me a knowing look that says Not the whole time, baby.
Heat crawls up my neck as I start fussing with my equipment.
“Hayes tolerates you,” Ash says.
“I'm his favorite.”
“Now, that's definitely not true.” Ash laughs.
As I start unpacking my gear, another voice joins the conversation.
Tyler nods between Ash and me. “You guys have been glued together lately.”
I glance up. “What?”
“I swear every time I turn around, Grant's attached to your hip.”
Before I can think of a response, Ash answers for me.
“Yeah.” He sounds completely casual. “It's because we're dating.”
The locker room goes silent. I freeze with one glove halfway out of my bag. My head snaps toward him so quickly I nearly pull something in my neck.
Ash looks perfectly calm. Like he hasn't just detonated a grenade in the middle of the room.
“What?” I squeak.
He smiles. “Aren't we?”
Every pair of eyes in the room shifts toward me. Heat floods my face so quickly it almost hurts.
My brain desperately searches for an escape route.
I let out a long sigh. “That's true.”
The silence lasts exactly one second. Then Dante slaps both hands together. “I knew it!”
Tyler points at me. “Look at him. He's blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Another teammate, Peter, laughs from across the room. “Holy shit, Hayes is actually adorable.”
“Watch it,” Ash growls.
Dante pinches Ash's cheeks, “Aw, you're so cute when you're territorial.”
“Fuck off.” But Ash is smiling as he pulls away.
My entire face feels like it's on fire.
Ash looks unbearably pleased with himself.
“You planned that,” I snap.
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Liar.”
Ash kisses my shoulder. “Guilty.”
The easy laughter filling the room settles some of the tension that had been building inside me all morning. For a few precious minutes, I almost forget why today is difficult.
Then the locker room door opens. Noah Grove walks inside carrying his equipment bag over one shoulder. He's younger than William had been. His auburn-brown hair is a little longer, curling against the back of his neck beneath a baseball cap.
The resemblance still steals the air from my lungs. My body goes completely still.
Noah's eyes move across the room and they land on me. For one suspended moment, neither of us moves.
I force myself to nod. A small acknowledgment.
Professional.
Respectful.
Noah's expression doesn't change. His gaze slides away almost immediately, like I'm another piece of furniture. He walks past my stall without saying a word. My heartbeat starts climbing again.
A hand settles firmly on my shoulder.
Dante. I hadn't even realized he'd moved.
“Don't worry about him,” he says quietly.
I keep watching Noah unpack his gear across the room. “Yeah. You're right.”
Across the locker room, Ash meets my eyes. He doesn't smile. He doesn't say anything. He simply holds my gaze for a second longer than anyone else would.
A silent reminder. You're not alone.
For the first time since Noah walked through the door, I believe it.
The rest of practice is…normal. I'd forgotten hockey could still feel like this.
Not easy or carefree. Just familiar.
The first few drills pass without anything remarkable happening.
Coach runs us through breakouts, neutral-zone transitions, and rush entries before splitting us into units to work on special teams. My body slips into routines it's known since I was six years old.
My feet move before I consciously think about them.
The ice still makes sense, even when the rest of my life doesn't.
Every now and then I catch Ash looking at me. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough for me. It's strangely reassuring.
By the second water break, the locker room conversation from earlier has apparently become the most interesting thing that's happened all week.
Tyler skates backward beside Ash while we're waiting for Coach to reset the drill. “So.”
Ash glances over. “So?”
“How long have you two actually been together?”
Ash doesn't even hesitate. “A little over a month.”
I almost drop my stick.
Tyler whistles. “Damn.”