“Damn,” I muse, smiling as I picture the scene. From what I’ve heard from Nico, Troy Nichols could rival Jack in being shy. “I bet that jersey was rank as hell.”
Jack laughs, the sounds full-bodied and loud in the small kitchen.
“It was so wet I could have wrung it out. I didn’t even care. That sweaty jersey was the greatest thing anyone had ever handed me. I still have it, too. Craig got me one of those boxes that you hang them in.”
“You have it in your dorm?”
“Oh, no. I used to, but now it’s at Nate’s. I was nervous someone would steal it, or something would happen to it. That jersey is the only thing I own that matters.”
Feeling pretty badly about the direction this conversation has taken, I start cutting up the peppers, setting aside all the green ones for Parker, who doesn’t like the yellow or orange.
“That sounds like a good memory,” I comment, and he makes a noise of assent. “So was Troy and your foster family the reason you wanted to play hockey in college?”
“Yeah. That was the moment I fell in love with Troy Nichols, and I had this crazy dream of one day playing hockey with him, and?—”
He stops suddenly, and I glance at his face in time to see the words register.That was the moment I fell in love with Troy Nicholsseems to echo through the room as if he shouted it. His eyes flick to me, face pale. He obviously didn’t mean that the same way someone might say they love puppies, or a specific actor. He meant it in the way of someone admitting attraction to someone, and is very obviously regretting speaking up.
“Don’t blame you,” I tell him mildly, keeping my voice even and my expression pleasant. I’ve had enough terrible experiences coming out to people to know how frightening it can be, particularly if you hadn’t even meant to say it. “Nico’s pretty close to Troy, and all I hear about him is that he’s a great person. Handsome, too, of course, but it’s the attitude and kindness that would do me in.”
Jack’s body deflates, shoulders slumping in relief, as though he’d been bracing for impact.
“Yeah,” he agrees, color flooding back into his face. I hand him a slice of pepper, and he crunches into it, chewing and swallowing before continuing in a slow, careful voice. “I’m trying to get better about saying…that.”
“Well, I can tell you, I’ve said the words ‘I’m gay’ hundreds of times, and it hasn’t seemed to get any easier.”
His mouth opens on a small gasp, and a strange expression passes over his face. If I had to guess, I’d say it was relief, but that doesn’t exactly track with what I’d said. His honey eyes are wide, and more intent on mine than they’ve ever been before.
“You… You are? I mean…”
“What’s for eating?” Parker interrupts loudly, walking into the kitchen and peering at the counter. “I’m starving.”
“You ate half an hour ago,” I remind him, scooping up the green peppers and depositing them on a plate before passing them his way.
“Thanks.” He crunches into one, and unlike Jack, doesn’t bother swallowing before speaking. “What time do I have to go to Sue’s?”
“Uhm—” I glance over at the oven.
“I could hang out here if you wanted,” Jack offers, drawing both my and Parker’s attention.
Parker recovers quicker, his mouth stretching into a smile and eyes popping wide as he realizes what Jack’s offering. I raise a hand to keep him silent, trying to hold off the explosion for a second.
“You don’t have to babysit, Jacko. I appreciate you offering, but?—”
“He doesn’t mind!” Parker says at the same moment Jack shrugs and replies, “I don’t mind.”
Brushing a hand down my face, I gently turn Parker around and usher him toward the family room.
“Go eat your snack and watch TV,” I tell him.
“Oh, sonowyou want me to watch TV,” he grumbles, but shuffles out of sight. I hear the groan of the coach as he throws himself back down.
“You really don’t have to babysit, mate,” I tell Jack, who shrugs.
“I wouldn’t mind. It’s not like I’m doing anything since I don’t play for the team anymore.”
“Well…” I look at Jack—at his open, freckly face and wide brown eyes. He looks so eager to help, just like he did earlier when he offered to help clean the apartment. “You’re sure? I feel like you’ve got better things to do than hang out with a kid.”
“Trust me, I don’t.” He laughs, stealing another pepper and popping it in his mouth. “I’d rather be here than anywhere else, anyway. I like it here.”
