Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ETHAN
One Saturday in late January, we’re lucky enough to get a true day off. Although we usually get at least one a week, it’s hardly ever on a weekend, when games and travel tend to dominate. We leave early on Sunday for a Florida roadie, so Coach was kind enough to give us the day.
Jamie came home with me last night after the game, a close loss to Las Vegas.
Even though we were too beat to do anything but shower and cuddle up in bed, it was nicer than doing it alone.
Especially when, this morning, I woke up to the feeling of kissing traveling down along my abdomen, then the feeling of wet warmth engulfing my dick.
The morning was spent almost entirely in bed, working my body and Jamie's almost as hard as we did at the game. The afternoon has been spent resting, laying on my couch with Jamie’s head in my lap, my fingers running through his curls.
On the TV, the Toronto/Vancouver game is on, though the volume is low.
To be honest, I'd be hard pressed to tell you who's winning.
As my mind wanders, I realize I have no idea where my phone has gotten to. Honestly, that's fine by me. I'll need to find it sooner or later – I promised Alexei we'd have him over for dinner – but for now, I can just rest here in a cocoon of sweats and Jamie.
Alexei took walking in on us better than I could ever have hoped for. It's one thing to think your best friend is gay, another thing to know it, and yet a third to be confronted with the evidence firsthand, shirtless and standing in my kitchen.
If anything, I think he was most upset about ruining the mood.
He had been so encouraging when I told him at the steakhouse that I'd been seeing someone; I doubt he'd have interrupted if he'd known.
But I'd be lying if I said the fact that it's Jamie doesn't...complicate things.
Alexei knows that as well as I do. If things go bad, they'll go really bad.
I know that. And I know it should be enough for me to step away.
But I look down at his curls wrapped around my fingers and I just...can't. As if he senses my eyes on him, Jamie stretches his arms above his head, extending his body like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I should hit the bathroom.”
We've been here for hours at this point. The thought is totally reasonable.
“But then I'll be cold.” The fact that it's reasonable doesn't stop me from giving him shit.
“Thank God Alexei will be here soon. I'm getting hungry.”
He gives me a kiss on the temple, the gentle show of affection sending heat to my face.
As he heads to the bathroom in the master suite, I roll off the couch.
My muscles complain as I stand, strongly reconsidering the move.
Still, I should at least figure out where my phone is so I can tell Alexei to leave me in peace in a cuddle pile with Jamie.
I find it on the kitchen counter, near where we had made pancakes after finally leaving the bedroom.
As I unlock it to text Alexei, I'm blown away by the number of notifications – missed calls, emails, and more missed texts than I've ever had before.
It's been, like, three hours – what could have possibly happened?
Soon enough, the panic rises inside me. Did someone die? Or worse, get traded?
Before I can dive into the messages to figure out what's happening, the phone starts buzzing in my hand.
Jack Kinkaid.
Well, that doesn't exactly reassure me. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I answer the call as I walk back into the living room.
“Hey Jack, what's up?”
“Ethan! Glad to finally get a hold of you.” Relief is evident in his tone, but so is something else. Stress, maybe?
“Yeah, sorry. Saturdays off are a rare beast, just taking advantage of it.”
He hums distractedly. That's certainly not a good sign.
“So you, uh, haven't seen anything?”
“Not until about five minutes ago when I opened my phone and it was full of notifications. What's up? Did I, uh, get traded?”
Please say no.
“Oh, hell no. You know I've got you locked up tight in Minneapolis.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. I know it had been a big point of negotiation during my last extension, and that we'd ended up sacrificing a little money for one of the most secure no-move clauses in the league.
Still, shit happens, and teams are willing to do what's necessary to move the pieces they need.
“Ok, what's up?”
Jamie is walking out of the bedroom now, his phone in his hand. He looks...pale? I gesture to him, beckoning him over to the couch again, wanting to feel his warmth again.
“Are you in a private place?”
“Yeah, like I said, I'm just hanging out at home today.”
“Are you, uh, alone?”
I swallow thickly, not really sure how to answer that.
“You can speak freely.”
He pauses, as though trying to interpret my failure to answer his question.
“There was an article on The Neutral Zone this morning.”
My heart plummets to my stomach, and I think of all the times I thought for sure I'd hear those words. Then here, today, while I'm feeling safe and warm, they snuck up on me.
“What does it say?”
At this, Jamie is the first to answer, sliding his phone into my lap.
There, on the screen, is a picture of us in the park. I swipe left, and find more pictures – us at the playground, Jamie laughing at something I'd said, me staring at Jamie in soft adoration.
The article itself is far less damaging.
I have access to lawyers just like every other professional athlete, and The Neutral Zone knows it.
They aren't going to come out publicly and just say it.
They'll hint and insinuate and, yes, publish pictures, but hey, do you think these guys are fucking? is a step too far even for them.
I realize Jack's started talking again, walking me through the article.
“...the article itself could be worse. But I think the pictures are gonna gain some traction, Ethan.”
I take a deep breath, trying not to let the panic ramp up in my mind.
“Thanks, Jack. I'm looking at it now.”
“So, uh, I need some direction from you on this.”
I'm confused, my brain working at a fraction of its normal power.
“Direction?”
“Yeah, kid. I, uh, don't know which way you want to go with this.”
“What do you mean, which way? We're friends. The Neutral Zone is doing what they can to get clicks, I get that. But there's nothing to it.”
The silence, in the room and on the phone, is long and deafening. Jamie walks over to stare out the window, biting his lower lip.
“Okay. I can take it that direction. You should know there will probably be more attention on you for a while. Twitter's already picked this up. If there were, say, anyone at your house right now, they should be careful leaving.”
I hear what he's not saying, just like he knew what I was leaving out earlier. I clear my throat, not wanting to confirm anything.
“I'm, uh, sure I'll be fine.”
“Okay. Good friends, mentor, yada yada. I'll work something up.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
As I look up after hanging up with Jack, I realize Jamie's not at the window anymore. I follow the sounds of drawers opening and closing, finally finding him in the bedroom.
“I, uh, realized I left some stuff at my house that I need to pack for tomorrow. So I'm just gonna go back there for the night.”
I'm taken aback by the suggestion. He doesn't even have his car here.
“It's not even four. We can still grab your stuff and get back in time for an early bedtime. I'll just cancel on Alexei, okay?”
He takes a deep breath.
“Ethan, you saw that article. You can't take me home and then bring me back here. Someone will notice.”
Shit. He's right.
“Okay, but then you can't just walk out of here with a duffel bag, either. Jack said we'd need to be careful around the apartment.”
“You told him I was here?”
“No. But he, uh, seemed to know.”
He blows out a heavy breath and sits on the couch, head in his hands. I try to think of what to say, how to fix this.
And maybe more importantly, how to get him to stay here tonight. It’s been just over a month since that first night in Calgary, but I’ve grown used to the feel of his body next to mine, his warmth soothing me to sleep. It hasn’t been every night…but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it to be.
Yeah, and that’s why the entire world is talking about why you’re staring at him like that.
A sharp knock on the door interrupts my thoughts; Jamie’s eyes dart to the door.
“It’s probably just Alexei. I’ll get it.”
Sure enough, the Russian is standing in the hallway, his enormous arms full of takeout bags. I’m overwhelmed by the smell of garlic.
“Ethan! Let me in, I need to put these down.”
He walks straight through to the kitchen, laying the bags down on the island and starting to open box after box of Italian food. Pizza, lasagna, pasta…if the nutritionist knew, he’d be taking out a hit on Alexei.
“Is there any mozzarella left in the state of Minnesota?” Jamie asks, walking in from the living room. He’s putting on a brave front for Alexei, but I can still see the worry etched on his face.
“It felt like a day for Italian, you know?” Now that I’m looking, the worry seems to sit in Alexei’s eyes, too.
“You saw the article.”
“Yes. You talk to Jack?’
“Yeah. He’s, uh, handling it.”
“Handling it? Handling it how?”
“Just, uh, putting out a statement. You know, Tremblay and Carter have enjoyed a strong mentorship since Carter joined the Huskies, blah blah blah.”
“But is not truth.”
For a moment, I am surprised by his words. Since the day he walked in on us — hell, since the day I came out to him — nothing has changed. It’s almost been like it never happened. I realize, now — he is the only one who knows the truth, the full truth.
He’s the only one who can call me on it.
“Well, no, but since when are we in the habit of telling the truth to the fucking Neutral Zone?”
He looks at me again, and I find my eyes dropping to the ground under his gaze. It looks like he’s about to say something when Jamie speaks up.
“Alexei, this is from that place on Grant, yeah? Did you get those breadsticks?”
I try to catch Jamie’s eyes to thank him for the subject change, but his won’t quite meet mine.
“Da. Just for you.” Alexei hands over a box of garlicky breadsticks that I somehow didn’t even know Jamie liked.
“You guys going on Italian dates without me?”
“Yes, Ethan. We socialize in public, sometimes. Perhaps you should try it.”
Is Alexei…mad at me?
“Alexei, did you drive here?” Jamie asks.
“No, I walked over a mile with all of this. Yes, of course I drive.” Maybe he’s just in a mood.
“You bring the Escalade? With the tinted windows?”
“Yes. Is not weather for the Lotus yet.”
“Can I grab a ride back to my place with you? Jack, uh, pointed out that I shouldn’t be seen leaving.”
Alexei looks at the two of us, a deep furrow forming between his eyebrows.
“You don’t want to stay?”
“No, I, uh, still need to pack. Not worth coming back tonight.”
Somehow, even in the middle of my panic over this article, that hit hard.
Not worth it.
“Jamie, we could use my truck. The windows are tinted in the back.”
“No. It’s, uh, fine. You’ll probably need to deal with…that.” He gestures toward my phone, which hasn’t stopped buzzing with notifications.
“No, it’s no trouble. Oh. Shit. That’s my dad.”
Looking through my texts earlier, I had seen a few from him. I had thought I could avoid it, for at least a little longer.
“Ethan. We have talked about this.” The words are Alexei’s, but they could just as easily have come from Jamie. Yes, we’ve talked about this. About how I don’t have to pick up this call, or reread those texts.
How I could even just block him.
But they didn’t grow up in his house. They don’t know the bone-deep certainty that peace now will mean paying later.
“You’ll take care of Jamie? I gotta take this.”
Alexei’s gray eyes stare unsettling into mine, a question on his face.
“Yes, Ethan. I’ll take care of Jamie.”