“… had to really go through some stuff to get to the realization that I am stupid in love with you.”
It took a moment for the words to soak into my medulla or frontal lobe or whatever part of the brain dealt with wild emotional shit.
“You what?” I asked because my head was still back on the ass-kissing for some reason. “I didn’t hear you because I was recalling how well you dicked me.”
He grinned the grin of a man who knew he had fucked his man well and thoroughly. “Yeah, I did dick you pretty damn well.”
“You said you love me,” I said, the sticky underbelly of my tape had left my fingers tacky. “Did I hear you say that?”
“You did. I said it. Are you freaking out? You look like you’re freaking out.” He bit down on his lower lip, big blue eyes filled with horror, fingers gripping the edge of his jersey.
“I’m not… no, not freaking out. Well, sort of, but not because you said you… love me.” He looked dubious. I gently removed his hands from the hem of his sweater. They were cold, so I lifted them to my lips. I placed tiny pecks to his scabby knuckles. Knuckles marked up like a real hockey player. He’d come so far. I loved him so much. If I had been standing my knees would be knocking, I was shaking so hard. “I’m… I was sure you were going to tell me to hit the freeway.” His eyebrows beetled. “I thought you were done with me. Our lessons are about over. I assumed you were going to break up with me.”
“Are we in a place where we can break up?” His question was earnest.
I shrugged before lowering his hands, my fingers sliding between his. “I don’t know. To be honest, Finn, I don’t know jack shit about relationships. All I know is that the thought of never seeing you again makes me queasy and scared. More scared than being hurt. That’s what love is, right?”
“Sure, in a way. Do you want more from us than this?”
“Fuck, yes. I want lots more.”
He smiled in relief. My mouth found his. The kiss was explosive, gentle yes, but so filled with raw emotion. I pulled back after a moment, to rest my nose alongside his, as we battled to catch our breaths.
“Oh good. I do too. I want lots more. I want… I think I want to come out,” he whispered.
Wow. Oh, shit. That was… Massive. I pulled back even more, sitting straight now, my sight combing his face for any signs of anxiety. I saw a little.
“Finn, that’s a huge step. You don’t have to come out. I’m willing to wait for you to find the right time.”
He frowned a bit. “That’s just it. When will it ever be the right time?”
Okay, he had me there. “But your career will take a hit.”
“Probably, but maybe not. I don’t care, honestly, Cam; I’m so tired of living my life in constant fear. I want to be able to touch you in public. I want to not have to hide in my house or yours just so we can kiss. I want to tell the world that you’re mine… if you want to be mine?”
I kissed him with all the whirling emotions inside me. Our tongues tangled as our fingers tightened around each other’s, the world melting away to a chilly blur around us. Nothing else mattered but this moment.
“God, I do love you,” I croaked, my throat tight with feelings I wasn’t sure how to express. “Emoting isn’t my thing, it’s yours, but I am crazy about you. It feels like someone elbowed me in the head every time I look at you.”
He chortled a bit, his lips a mere inch from mine—his breath sweet from the coffee we’d stopped to buy on the way in—so close.
“You romantic fool,” he teased, stealing another kiss, then leaning in close to rest his brow on my shoulder. I dropped a kiss to his hair, my dopey gaze flitting around the rink. A flash of something purple caught my eye by the northern exit.
“Shit,” I snapped, rising to my skates to watch a small figure in one of my damn Storm jerseys booking ass. “We’ve been made.”
Finn’s rosy cheeks went ashen. How had anyone gotten past Jed and Todd? I took off, climbing up and over the railing that ran across the tunnel that leads from the benches to the locker rooms. Finn fell in behind me as I locked eyes on the frame of a kid. Black hair, tan skin, about thirteen or so, maybe, just judging by his gangly build. The kid was faster, but I had longer legs. I also had reach. I caught him and pulled him into me gently. Finn clambered over the plastic benches, reaching us a moment after I had captured our quarry.
“Hand it over,” Finn said, his breathing barely hitched. The man was in phenomenal shape. The kid, who now sounded like he was crying, held up his cellphone. “Unlock it,” Finn said—God, he sounded sad—and the kid did as he was asked. I loosened my hold on him but didn’t let go entirely. This was not the way I liked to interact with fans, but my faith in this kid was hurt badly when Finn showed me the shots of us kissing.
“Little dude, that was so uncool,” I said to the child resting loosely against me. I wasn’t so much holding him, as he was seeking comfort from me.
“I know… I’m… I’m…” The boy began to really cry now. Big, choking sobs that made me feel like a first-class jerk. Finn spent a moment deleting the images of us, then gestured for the boy to sit down. I steered him to the top row of benches, then let go. The kid sat with a sniffle, then pulled his sleeve under his running nose. Gross. But hey, I did that on the ice when it was necessary, so I didn’t chide him.
“What’s your name?” I asked of the little guy.
He glanced up at me with big brown eyes. “Manuel,” he replied shakily. I glanced at Finn, who had taken a seat on Manuel’s left. I dropped down beside the boy.
“Okay, Manuel, want to tell us why you were sneaking around in here?”
He glanced at me, then Finn, sniveled a bit more, and then gave his nose one more wipe.
“I saw your car outside,” Manuel replied, his tears slowing. “I came in the service door, there’s no cameras there, and I’m your biggest fan,” he said, his gaze meeting mine.
“Thanks, but, seriously, my man, what you did there was uncool.” I jerked my chin to his phone as it dangled from his fingers.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just…” He drew in a huge breath, then let it out in one massive snotty exhale. Finn fished a hankie out of his back pocket and passed it over to the lad. After a big blow, Manuel tried to return the hankie, but Finn told him to keep it. I would have made the same call. “I wanted to show it to my dad. I swear that was all! I wouldn’t have sold it to any papers or put it online. I just wanted my dad to see that guys who are gay are tough too.”
Oh. “Are you hiding something from your father, Manuel?” I asked in Spanish.
He replied with a sluggish nod, then began telling me about his life. He lived near the rink, hell, he was even on one of the teams in CC’s Club. He began rambling on about how he felt different from the other kids in school, but how his father was a tough guy, real macho, which was common among Latino men. It had taken my Mexican uncles and male cousins some adjusting to accept me, but they had, mostly. The ones who didn’t could go sit in a fucking ditch. But I got his story and his struggle. As did Finn, who was staring at me in confusion.