Thirty
OWEN
I drop my ass onto the bench, accepting the water bottle. It’s a talent most hockey players have, squirting water into our mouths without missing a drop and not bothering to take our eyes from the ice. We just know where our mouths are at all times.
The corner of my lips quirk up at the thought as I follow the puck with my eyes to the opposite end. Toward our goal. Daryn has had a hell of a game. The very first game we played against Philly this round was a fucking shutout. I’ve never had so much fun gloating toward a friend as I did then.
Max looks so much better these days. He didn’t even care that he lost. He was all smiles as he met me on the ice after, for a hug.
I’m guessing his change in attitude is due to the big goalie who was waiting for him a few feet away.
He didn’t play that game, but as soon as it was over, he was there to scoop Max into his arms.
Somehow. I’m still a little perplexed by how he managed to with all those damn pads.
Schneider is in the goal tonight for Philly and he’s had a really good game.
We’re tied right now, 2-2. It’s only the start of the third period, so hopefully we can get one more between the pipes and win this one.
It won’t secure us our win in this bracket quite yet, but it would be fucking close. We’re sitting at 2-1 wins.
Daryn catches the puck shot toward him in his glove and I sigh.
“Dexter. Vincent. Bauer. Go,” Coach says.
I get up with my line and we climb over the wall as the third line skates toward us. As soon as my blades hit the ice, I’m digging in and shooting off after the puck. It whips behind the blue line, and I catch it, shuffling it along toward the goal.
Schneider is dead-eyed, focused on the puck, his attention not wavering in the least. He barely moves, just wiggling here and there to readjust himself in response to me coming at him. Less than six feet away, I make to shoot it but pass it to Bauer.
To my disappointment but not surprise, Schneider doesn’t break concentration in the least. Even though Bauer shoots the puck straight away, Schneider stops it with his stick as if he knew it was coming. Like he predicted our moves as if he’d been privy to our thoughts.
It’s fine. This is just how hockey goes.
The puck is recovered, but Bauer is slammed against the boards by the Philly d-man, Adin Likely, number 14. The boards rattle and the crowd cheers as they wrestle for the puck. I skate a tight circle and then a wider one as I wait for Bauer to get it out.
Adin catches the puck and it goes wide. While his teammates scramble to pick it up, our own defensive beast Linden is there and catches it. He doesn’t hold it long. As soon as it hit his stick, his eyes met Menlo’s and the puck’s gone.
I smirk as I fall back around. It’s a game of steal and steal back as we give the puck a workout. But then it happens like magic. Menlo dodges around Philly 80, glances at Bauer and passes the puck to me.
The puck hits my stick as I intend, but I’m blocked right away.
Falling back, I feign a shot and somehow succeed in a trick that shouldn’t work.
It’s dumb luck and 80 is going to be pissed as I shoot a clear path to the goal.
Schneider falls in a split, but the puck just barely goes through his legs.
We score. Breaking the tie. I grin as Menlo, Bauer, and Linden plow into me, hugging me tightly and tapping my helmet. The stadium is filled with cheers and probably jeers, but it doesn’t matter. We still have six minutes of the game left. Anything can happen. For right this second, we’re winning.
My name is called over the loudspeaker, letting the entire world know that I made the goal. Menlo’s follows with the assist, then we’re back to playing.
* * *
The game ends with my score being the tie breaker. We win 3-2, bringing our second-round playoff standings to 3-1. We’re nearly to conference finals. Not that we want to get too arrogant. That could definitely lead to us fucking up.
I shower quickly and dress back in my suit. As I’m pulling it on, I look at the boring maroon material and have a sudden urge to wear something more unique. Something that screams ZAK MADE THIS. The thought makes me grin.
Because I’m in a hurry to get back to the hotel where my boyfriend is waiting, I hustle when I’m called into the press room where I’m asked the same set of questions that we’re all asked.
Every. Single. Time. I answer with the same answers I give.
Every. Single. Time. Yes, it was an amazing score.
Philly is a great team and I truly admire their hard work on the ice.
It wasn’t just my win today, but our entire team. Yes, I’m still gay. Well, close enough.
Believe it or not, my sexuality always comes up when I’m with the press.
Sometimes, I feel like a sideshow attraction.
Oh my god, it’s the gay athlete. Do I bother correcting them to the fact that I’m not actually gay but pan?
Nope. Not when I’m in a hurry to leave. What do I care if they want to stay fucking ignorant?
Today it’s not my job to educate them. Usually, I’m all about education in this area, but I convinced Zak to let me fly him in for this round of playoffs and he’s currently in my hotel room.
Celebrating with my boyfriend is far more important to me right now than telling people who I’ve already told countless times that I’m pansexual.
However, I fucking grin like a loon when Linden corrects that idiot. “Owen isn’t gay. He’s pan. I know he’s made that clear,” he tells the press. The aggravated and harassed look he gives me melts my heart. This fucking man! I’m touched by the friends I’ve made. Some of them are just… everything.
Finally, we’re on the bus, then back to the hotel. I practically sprint to the elevators and wait very impatiently while it makes a stop at damn near every floor before dropping me at the seventh. Once more, I jog down the hall and use the card to let me in.
Zak is there. Just as I left him. Well, not quite just as I left him. I’m quite positive he was dressed when I left a few hours ago. And his skin was clean. Now he’s sprawled across the bed with my laptop on his stomach, completely naked with black lines over both his arms.
I drop my bag and step into the room, throwing the extra bar lock. On my way, I strip from my suit. Zak watches me with a soft smile on his face, his eyes tracking my hands as I reveal just a bit more skin with each article of clothing I lose.
“Good game, gay boy,” Zak says and fucking hell, I can’t decide if I love him teasing me or the fact that he was actually watching my game and the press interviews after more.
Climbing on the bed, I push the laptop away and replace it with my body along his. “Didn’t you get Linden’s correction? I’m pansexual.”
Zak grins. “He’s a cool guy.”
“He really is.” I cover his mouth with mine, kissing him fucking deeply. I’m pretty sure I’m about to choke him with my tongue.
“Why are you naked?” I ask as I lick along his jaw to take his earlobe between my teeth. Zak squirms under me.
“It was hot in here and I was trying to work something out regarding sleeve length.”
I shift to look at his arms. The marker is close by. “You know what would look really good on your skin?”
Zak gives me an amused smirk. “What?”
“My name. All over you.”
He laughs and reaches for the marker. “Have at it.”
“Don’t think I won’t.”
“I want you to. It’s not a challenge.”
I take the marker and move off him. Uncapping it, I do just as I threatened and begin writing my name across his chest. When I’m finished with my name, I glance up to see that his eyes are closed and he has a soft smile on his lips.
“I love how happy you look right now,” I say.
His eyes squint open a little. “I am.”
There’s no follow up as I turn back to his beautiful skin and continue to write my name. I sign it like I would an autograph and then draw it in big block letters and little rivets like I welded pieces of me to him. I keep going in this fashion for a long time.
“I never thought I’d have someone like you,” he says quietly.
“You mean an alien?”
He huffs and smacks me lightly. “No. I don’t mean… class. I just mean…” he trails off. “Someone who sees me for more than a poor kid off the streets.”
“That doesn’t define you, Zak. That’s not your identity.”
“Yeah, I guess I know that. But for a long time, it was a worse label than gay.”
“Gay isn’t a bad label. Neither is homeless. It means that you fell on hard times.”
Zak nods. When he doesn’t continue, I go back to covering his body with my name.
“I had a happy childhood,” Zak says quietly. “When I was young. It was just me and my mom, but… it was the best. Every memory I have of her is amazing. We were best friends. We did everything together. Then… she died. Hit by a car.”
My chest clenches. “Oh, Zak.”
He nods, his chin wobbling. “Yeah. So… I was shipped off to my father. Up until the day I was brought to his doorstep, I didn’t think I had a father.
But there he was. Completely flabbergasted and mortified to see me standing there with a letter and DNA test in my hand.
Don’t ask how those things came to be. Social services had them in their possession and they landed in my hands when they brought me to him.
I don’t know the details. I don’t even know what the letter said exactly.
All I know I learned in the few years following.
My father had an affair and didn’t know about me.
He and his wife had no kids by choice. They were older—fifties, I think.
And even when I showed up, they still didn’t want kids. ”
I have no words. None to comfort him. I’m not sure exactly what he needs from me, so I don’t speak. I just keep drawing to make sure he knows I’m here.
“Sometimes they tried harder than others. At first, it was clear they had no idea what to do with me. They lived in a brownstone close to Clarinda’s—that’s actually how I met her—we walked to school together.
Then she introduced me to Gravity and Edgar.
But, yeah. The neighbors were really nice.
Sometimes my father and stepmom would lock me out without meaning to—I think unintentionally—and the neighbors would let me come in and feed me a snack while I did my homework and waited for my parents to come home.
“Other times, they actually tried to be parents. They’d take me to the zoo or a museum and we’d have a good day.
But then, like, it was too hard for them to pretend to enjoy that for long.
Those days became less and less frequent.
Then one day, they didn’t come home from work at all.
When they returned the next, they offered no explanation. None. Acted like nothing happened.”
I tangle my fingers with his as I move to draw on his hands. Suddenly, I have an idea where this is going. It makes me sick.
“The first was a year after I got there. I was twelve. It started out as only one night here and there. Like they needed a break from my existence. I wasn’t a bad kid.
I didn’t get into trouble. Most of the time, I remained in my room.
But I don’t know. Then their absences became longer.
Two nights. Four nights. A week. They always came back.
Never with an apology and never promising it wouldn’t happen again.
Then one day when I was fourteen, they left and never came back.
My neighbor noticed and that’s how I met Auntie Faith.
Auntie Faith moved me in with her and it was all well and good; but by that point, I could only imagine that she was going to leave me too.
So when I was sixteen, I left first. To be clear, Auntie never did anything to make me believe this.
She was a lot like my mom. She still is.
But I just… I didn’t want to be abandoned again.
You know? I thought if I left, I was controlling the situation. ”
I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes. It breaks my heart. I don’t even know what to say. Zak doesn’t need me to say anything, though. He just needs me to listen. He’s clearly ready to share with me, so I’m going to do whatever he needs to know that he’s safe with me.
Fuck, no wonder he was always ready to run.
“I had no control,” Zak says, sighing. “But I thought I could handle it, you know? I thought I could make my own way. Before I realized what I’d done, I was a high school dropout and homeless.
Auntie kept trying to convince me to come home, but I just…
I was too afraid of another parent disappearing on me.
Somehow my brain convinced me it was better for her to be there sometimes when I visit than me relying on her and then deciding she didn’t want me anymore.
I know that so much of my past is my own fault.
I know that I should have accepted help.
Help was around me in abundance between Auntie, my friends, and the different programs out there, but there was always just one obstacle after another and after a while, it felt hopeless. So… maybe I gave up a little.”
I kiss the inside of his elbow and wrap an arm around his waist.
“Then you came in like a god, all shiny and sweet and just… heavenly. I’m still scared you’ll leave, but I know that’s a me thing. It’s not a reflection of you. I trust you and believe that you love me and want to be with me. It’s just my insecurities and doubt that won’t allow me to let that go.”
“I’m not leaving, Zak,” I say. “I will never give up on you. If it gets hard or we fight or hockey gets to be too much, we’ll talk about it. We’ll come to a compromise. I will never just walk away from you.”
Zak nods. “I know.”
“Where are your parents? Did you ever find out?” Because I’d kind of like to tie them to the goalposts and shoot pucks at them.
“Dunno. I never looked.”
We’re quiet for a while until Zak says, “You can keep drawing on me. It’s relaxing. And I like that you’re covering me in your name.”
So I do. We spend the next several hours talking on the bed. Naked. Sharing our secrets. And me covering every single inch of this man’s body with my name.