Thank God Trembley’s out because I’m not sure I want to explain to my hotel roommate why I just went to town on myself.
My fingers curl around the wet strands of my hair and tug. Possibly being gay, or bi, or whatever is the least of my worries. It’s how turned on I got when fighting with Jackson.
From being chased by him.
It’s too fucked up.
And to make matters worse, the bite on my forearm is already bruising. The motherfucker marked me.
He’s such an asshole. Always has been. An entitled prick who probably got a nose job to fix his perfect fucking features becauseI know I broke it when we fought at camp back when we were ten.
There’s also the time at the New England Sports Center when I made his nose gush blood during finals at the Haunted Shootout Tournament.
No way he’s got some kind of miracle healing powers that it still looks perfect without surgical intervention.
Why does the fact he might have gotten a nose job bother me so much? Okay, that’s probably the easiest to answer . . . because there’s no evidence of all the times I kicked his ass over the years.
Someone knocks at my door and I get up to answer it, acutely aware of the towel still slung low around my waist, the damp fabric clinging to my skin.
Raiyne stands on the other side, his bottom lip split open and a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You made it back without a scratch. Figured you might be hungry.”
I chuckle when he hands me a takeout bag from Antonio’s. “Didyoubuymedinner?”
“Should be the other way around since I had to take on four dickwads while only one went after you.” He pushes past me into the room, flopping down on a chair near the window. “Petrov got me good.”
I close the door and turn to face him. “How the hell did you get away?”
Raiyne throws his head back and lets out a full-bellied laugh, the sound echoing off the walls. “His fucking boyfriend!”
I tilt my head, blinking in shock as I wait for him to calm down enough to continue.
“The kid and his female friend literally pulled up in a car and got out yelling at Petrov. His boyfriend threatened to drive back to Long Island—wait for it—unless Alexei got ‘in the car right fucking now’.” Raiyne's face turns a dark shade of red ashe laughs so hard he starts coughing, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Petrov actually gave in. Can you believe it?”
Petrov’s boyfriend was at our last game against the Titans. He’s tiny compared to the hulking Russian defenseman. I remember seeing the way they look at each other.
My parents used to look at one another like that before my dad passed away and left my mom to fight her battle with muscular dystrophy alone. Well, not exactly alone since she has me and my sisters.
So, while my friend finds the whole situation hilarious, and I have to admit it's pretty funny, I can't help but see it a bit differently.
I put my sandwich down on the dresser, my appetite suddenly gone. “Lucky for you then. I'm surprised the others let you go so easily.”
He shrugs. “Walsh didn't want to. He threw in some hits, but a few coaches from some of the other teams were around. Knight just appeared bored by the whole thing.”
“What about Novotny?”
“Got in the car with Petrov, who seemed annoyed at that too.” Raiyne juts his chin at me. “What happened with Reed?”
“Same old shit.”
Lies.
But I don't want to get into it with him, don't want to admit to the confusing mix of emotions swirling inside me. While I'm close with a few of the guys on the team, I've never really opened up to them, never let them see beyond the carefully constructed walls I've built around myself.
Sure, they know about my mom, but only because she sometimes comes to games when we play in Boston in a wheelchair, while other times she doesn’t. So, they had questions. But I never share how it affects me.
I don't want their sympathy, and I don't want my friends to look at me differently. Taking care of my mom and sisters is my duty, my privilege, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
It's why I turned down the contract with the Rangers, why I chose to go to college instead. I need a degree to fall back on, something to ensure I can still provide for them even if my hockey career is cut short by injury.
