17. Connor
CONNOR
I have to leave early the next morning to get to the rink.
I’ve tried to keep this casual in my head, but I don’t know how Elliot can’t see that things between us can never be casual.
I wore fucking tights for him last night.
I’ve never done anything like that for anyone before.
I’m the least kinky person I’ve ever met, but if Elliot wanted to tie me up and spank me, I’d let him.
Anything to make him happy. I am so fucking screwed.
Eli stirs when I start to get up.
“Sorry, baby, go back to sleep. Check out isn’t until twelve.”
He sits up and rubs his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“To the rink.”
“Do we both have time to take a shower? I’ll get a ride into town with you and go to the library.”
“Sure, hop in with me.”
His cheeks tint. How the fuck can be blush after last night?
“I’ll have to behave myself, though. I don’t have time for what I’d really like to do to you in there. ”
He smiles, making it so fucking hard not to just back under the sheets with him.
The water temperature is perfect when I step under the spray. My cock doesn’t understand that we're under a time restraint here, because even the sound of Eli taking his clothes off has it springing to attention.
I scrub my face and pits before Eli steps in, then step aside to let him get under the water.
He closes his eyes and scrubs his hair out of his face. I can’t help but put my hand on his stomach and lean down for a kiss.
“Don’t,” he says, smiling. “You’ll be late.”
Our eyes meet and there’s this sadness that takes over. I’m not sure if he feels it, too, but it’s all I can hear, roaring in my ears, telling me this is going to be over soon. That it should be over soon.
It forces us to snap to attention. We wash up quickly and get out.
I drop Elliot at the library, the stereo playing more summer-themed oldies, the AC blowing blessedly cool air at us while we sit in the silence of the car.
“Hey, I’ll pick you up after practice, if you want?”
“Scout will probably get me. But I’ll see you at your house later?”
I nod. I hope he doesn’t see every emotion flashing across my face at the prospect of him being so close and not being able to touch him.
As I’m pulling up outside the rink, I get a call—an unknown number. I think about ignoring it, but then I realize that it could be someone from Harvard and pick up .
“Connor Ryan?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“Hi, it’s Damien Rogers, from the Worcester Railers.”
Initially, my heart sinks when I realize it’s not school, but it doesn’t stay there long. It starts to pound a little harder, until I can hear it in my ears.
“Oh, hi. How’s it going?” That was dumb.
“Good. Listen, I don’t want to beat around the bush. I’d like to know if you’ve made a decision about coming to join us at the start of the season. We’d like to introduce you to the team and coaching staff as soon as possible and arrange training camp at the end of the summer break.”
I choke. I have no idea what to tell him.
Yes, I want to play hockey, that much I’ve decided.
But seeing Elliot’s dedication to his studies and being around him and Scout again and home with my parents, surrounded by my old dreams, it makes me want to stop running away from failure. Stop chasing success.
“You still there?”
“Yes, sorry. I …” I scrub a hand over my face, trying to formulate a response. “I think I might be going back to school in the fall, or at least I’m trying to.”
“I see.”
Disappointing people always feels like a gut punch. I have to bite my tongue to stop from apologizing or telling him I’ll do what he asks.
“Well, I’m sure we could have this chat again in seven or eight months’ time. You will be playing hockey at Harvard I assume?”
I’m so surprised by his response that it’s hard to find my words. “Yeah, um … I mean, I hope so. Nothing’s been arranged yet.”
“Do you have any idea when you’ll know? If you don’t go back to school, we’d like you now. If you do, we’ll review after next season. How does that sound?”
“It sounds … amazing.” As soon as I say it, I’m filled with this lightness. Like it’s the first truly honest thing I’ve said in years.
“Great. We’re not talking a three-month contract here, Connor. We like the way you play, and your style and your specialties are exactly what we need here on the team.”
When was the last time someone made me feel truly wanted like this? Outside of this casual hook up situation with Eli?
“We’re right at the start of a re-build, so this is a long-term thing and we’re willing to be patient. We have a few young players starting next season, you’ll be right at home.”
He keeps on giving me the sales pitch, but it doesn’t sound like bullshit, like most of the sales pitches I gave to my customers.
He’s still talking when I notice the cars in the parking lot driving away without their kids.
“I’m just about to go into the rink—” I start.
“Of course, don’t let me delay you. Just keep me posted, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
Coach’s head snaps up when I rush out onto the ice. The kids are already in their gear and practicing their stick handling.
“What are you smiling about, Coach Ryan?” he asks.
“I’ll tell you later.”
For the rest of practice, my legs feel like they could skate for eternity. The kids don’t feel like they’ll be getting away from me in a couple of years. Hell, I even delude myself that I could chase down McDavid in this mood and win .
I’m still buzzing with energy when Coach Garvin blows his whistle to signal the end of practice.
He waits until the kids are all in the locker rooms getting changed to speak to me. I feel him watching me as I scoop up some cones and throw them into the box.
“I just spoke to the scout from Worcester.”
“Oh yeah?”
“They’re interested in offering me a long-term contract.”
Coach’s face lights up. I go on before he can get too excited.
“But I think I wanna go back to school first, finish my degree, see if I can get back on the team there first.”
Coach is nodding when I look at him. “That’s smart.”
“Is it? I’ll be giving up a well-paid job with free travel in California for winter in Massachusetts as a penniless student.”
Coach laughs, slapping me on the back. “But you’ll be happier, right?”
I shrug. “Yeah, I will.”
Coach pauses with a bag of pucks and rubs his stubble.
“When you first came here, I was a little worried about you. You didn’t seem happy, and when you told me you were giving up hockey for good, I really worried.
That isn’t you. You’re a hockey player. Always have been.
Most hockey players don’t make the NHL, but you still might.
You seem lighter since you’ve been back. ”
“I am.”
Coach nods, a big grin on his face.
The second I see Scout’s car parked on the driveway, my heart rate speeds up. It doesn’t necessarily mean Eli’s with her. He could still be at the library. Still, the buzz in my head gets louder the closer I get to the house.
I hear the laughter floating in from outside when I get to the kitchen. The patio doors are open, Scout’s flip flops are discarded on the floor.
I step outside and see her and Elliot in the water.
Scout looks up, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Hey,” she says.
I’m waiting for the ‘loser.’ It doesn’t come. “Hey.”
“Wanna get your ass kicked on Dance Mania?”
“What?”
She rolls her eyes before wading over to the side of the pool. I take a few steps closer and crouch down until we’re almost eye level.
“I said, do you want to get your ass kicked on Dance Mania?”
“You going to the arcade?”
“Yes, doofus.”
I boop her nose. She flinches way too late, slapping my hand away.
“Just let me grab a quick shower and get changed out of these clothes.”
She swims back to Eli. I catch his eye and he smiles shyly at me.
Has Scout just been nice to me for no good reason? Fucking invited me somewhere?
I’ve let her beat me on Dance Mania since we were kids.
It’s not about dancing—you’re literally stomping on arrows.
It’s a hand-eye co-ordination and reflex test. Scout is pretty good at it, but I’ve been putting my reflexes to the test ever since I could stand in skates.
I just like seeing her happy. Don’t even mind that she’s a bad winner.
This could be an opportunity to bond with her again before we go back to school.
When I step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, Elliot’s coming up the stairs in his shorts, his hair still wet from the pool. We pause. I glance behind him, looking for Scout.
“She’s in the shower in the en-suite,” he explains. Knowing exactly what I was looking for.
I cross the space between us and grab his face, kiss him, feeling relief flood me. All the blood heading south. He kisses me back, hungry, like we’ve been apart for months.
He breaks away first. “Not here.”
His gaze shoots nervously to Scout’s bedroom door where the sound of water can be faintly heard.
I nod, controlling myself. “Do you know why she invited me to the arcade? Does she just wanna humiliate me on Dance Mania?”
He snorts. “Yes and no. I think she feels bad for….” he trails off.
“What?”
“Calling you a loser all the time.”
My heart sinks. “Because I actually am a loser.”
“Connor—”
I squeeze his shoulder, hoping he picks up on the smile. “It’s okay. I was being a loser. Always running away when things didn’t work out. But I’m not gonna do that anymore.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“How would you feel about seeing more of me after this summer?”
He bites his lip. What does that mean? Does he want to see more of me? Is it awkward because he was really betting on me being in California by the end of summer?
Before I can figure it out or ask him, Scout’s bedroom door opens.
“What are you two doing standing around yapping? Hurry up and get in the shower already.”
ELLIOT