Only you, Desy,Victoria cackles, because a haunting is exactly the sort of thing that will make this better.
“I’m asexual,” I blurt out.
“Pardon?” Nico asks, rightfully confused as to why I just shouted that at him. I channel Jack and blush, cheeks burning. Bloody hell, why did I just say that?
“I just…I’m not hitting on Jack—Micky, or anything. I don’t…I wouldn’t do that. That’s not why I invite him over. Not like I’m inviting him over all the time,” I rush to add, doing an admirable job of taking this from bad to worse. Nico stares at me, eyes squinted nearly shut. “I just mean that I wouldn’t do anything inappropriate, you know, because he’s a member of the team. Also, because I just don’t really care for…that stuff. And even if I did, I wouldn’t.”
“I did not think you were doing anything inappropriate,” Nico tells me, although he surely will now that I’ve put the idea in his head.
“Sorry,” I mumble, mortified.
“Everything okay?” he asks carefully. I laugh. Things are so far from okay, we’re not even in the same universe any longer.
“I’m a little on edge,” I admit. “My parents are suing me for custody of Parker, which on top of costing me a shit-ton of money, is also going to include home visits by a social worker, interviews with court-appointed psychologists, and God only knows what else. My mum already thinks I’m some sort of…sex pervert because I’m gay, which is funny if you think about it, because I can’t care less about having sex.”
“Well, gay-sex perversion notwithstanding, I didn’t think you were engaged in an inappropriate relationship with Micky. Nor do I now,” Nico says dryly. “I am sorry to hear about your trouble with your parents, though. How long has that been going on?”
“Hell, my whole life. Only seems worse now, because Parker is involved and I can no longer hide in another country. The lawyer tells me I shouldn’t stop my parents from seeing Parker—that it ‘sets a bad precedence.’ So, occasionally, he’ll go over and spend the weekend with them. Which is great, because he comes back with a head full of fucking bullshit that my mum stuffed in there.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asks, giving me another reason to feel inexplicably guilty. My stomach is flopping around as though I’m on one of those roller coasters Jack told me about.
“You already helped by giving me a job, Macca.”
He smiles at the nickname, rising and putting a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. “How about dinner again? Anthony has also asked me to gently remind you that he would like to babysit, so consider yourself gently reminded.”
Laughing, I stand as well, shaking out my sweaty hands and putting a palm on my belly, willing my stomach to settle. I haven’t had this much trouble with my eating disorder since I was a teenager.
“Retirement hitting him a little hard?” I ask, following a step behind Nico as he leaves the office, knowing he prefers not to walk two abreast in the hallway.
“Yes,” Nico says on a sigh. “For a time I think he was harboring some hope about being able to go back, but thankfully, that didn’t happen. I think more hockey would have ended with him permanently crippled. Like me, I suppose,” he adds humorously.
“You should have hired him as the assistant coach.”
Holding the door open and letting me pass, Nico once more puts a hand on my shoulder. When I look over at him, his eyes are squinted nearly closed and his face is tilted downward. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to deal with constant headaches in a place as sunny as this.
“I hired the assistant coach I needed,” he replies, and then takes a deep breath as he gazes around.
“Want a ride?” I offer, but already know he’s going to turn me down the way he always does when I ask.
“Anthony is here, I just have to find him. Let me know what works for dinner, okay?”
“Okay,” I agree. “And thank you. Sorry for…well, sorry for all of that. I’ll talk to Jack.”
We go our separate ways, and I turn my keys idly over in my hand, thinking about Jack and how exactly I should go about broaching the subject with him. I know from personal experience just how humiliating it is to be called out on something private. Something you might consider embarrassing. Something Jack willdefinitelyconsider embarrassing,since that seems to be his default reaction to everything. I don’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already is.
9
Jack
Not even Nate’ssteady presence next to me in the locker room is making me feel better. Just sitting here, I’m already sweating enough to feel it trickling down the back of my neck and the buzz of the crowd in the stadium is loud even in here. It feels like the people out there are yelling directly into my ears. I sway, feeling an intense sensation of vertigo. There is a strange blockage in my throat, like I’m choking on tears.
“Micky Mouse,” Nate says, voice low. “You’re looking a little green. Feel okay?”
“I think I need to throw up,” I admit. I wish I could loosen my chest guard. It’s hard to breathe. Nate frowns, putting his face closer to mine and peering at me intently.
“Mick,” he says, sounding serious. Nate is never serious.
“I’m fine, just…nervous,” I whisper, wiping a hand over my clammy forehead.
