Frustration has my fingers tightening over the steering wheel. “We’re fine,” I repeat, grinding out each word.
“James.” Her tone is firm.
“Jessica.” My tone is firmer.
“I swear to God, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m siccing Mom on you. And Dad. Actually, no—I’m callingTammy.”
“Aw shit, don’t do that.” The threat is enough to loosen my lips, because as much as I love our older sister, Tammy is even worse than Mom when it comes to me. When I was born, twelve-year-old Tammy had informed everyone in the family that I washerbaby. She would carry me around like I was herdoll and fuss over me like a mother hen. As I got older, she eased up a bit, but she’s still ridiculously overprotective of me, and the first person to come to my rescue whenever I’m in trouble. Or when shethinksI’m in trouble.
“I’m waiting…”
Jess’s stern voice brings another silent groan. I take a breath, then offer the fewest amount of details possible. “Wes and I are in a weird place right now.”
“Cryptic, much? I mean, define weird. And by place, are we talking literal place? Are you at an S&M club right now? Did you join the circus?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, Jessica, we joined the circus. Wes trains seals and I ride the bears. We bunk with the bearded lady and the guy who swallows swords.”
“Is that a gay euphemism? Swallowing swords?” She laughs at her own stupid joke before going serious again. “Are you guys fighting?”
“Not really.”
I reach an intersection and slowly pump the brakes until the SUV skids to a stop. Up ahead, I notice an ominous line of cars and a whole lot of red taillights. Shit, is there an accident up there? I’ve been driving for ten minutes and I’m barely half a mile away from the arena. At this rate, I’ll never get home.
“Damn it, Jamie. Will you please stop with this vague bullshit and talk to me like an adult?”
I press my lips together, but it doesn’t stop the confession from flying out. “It’s fucking hard, okay? He’s not fucking home half the time, and when heishome, all we do is hide. We hide in our condo, we hide from the press, we just fuckinghide. And I’m sick of it, all right?”
Her breath hitches. “Oh. Okay, wow. Those were a lot of F-bombs. Um.” Jess softens her tone. “How long have you been unhappy?”
The question catches me off guard. “I’m...not unhappy.” No, that’s not true. Iamunhappy. I…I just miss my boyfriend, damn it. “I’m frustrated.”
“But you knew going into this that you were going to keep the relationship on the DL,” Jess points out. “You and Wes agreed you weren’t coming out until the season ends.”
“If we even do.” The most cynical part of me keeps getting stuck on that. What if Wes decides he’s not ready to tell the world he’s gay? What if he sits me down and begs me to keep quiet for another year? Or for the entire duration of his pro career? Or forever?
“Wait, has Wesley changed his mind?” my sister demands. “Or did the team ask him to keep pretending he’s straight?”
“I don’t think so. Wes said the PR department already has a statement prepared for when the news breaks. And I have no idea if he changed his mind. We’re not communicating too well lately,” I admit.
“Then start communicating.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It’s as easy as you make it.” She goes quiet for a beat. “Jamie, you’re the most open, honest person I know. Well, you and Scottie. Joe and Brady?” She names our two other brothers. “They act like talking about their feelings is an admission of weakness or something. But you and Scott are like this huge inspiration for me—proof that not all men are tight-lipped jerks. Actually, Wes is pretty open too. I think that’s why you guys are so good together. You never, ever shy away from difficult conversations. You always find a way to work through shit.”
She’s right. Wes and I have known each other since wewere kids. The only time we’ve ever had trouble talking to one another was when Wes disappeared from my life for three years after we hooked up at hockey camp. I forgave him for that, though. I understood why he shut me out—he’d felt guilty about possibly taking advantage of me, and he’d been confused about his own sexuality. At the time, it was something he’d needed to work through on his own.
But this distance between us…it’s something we need to work throughtogether. And ignoring the issue isn’t going to achieve that. Jess is absolutely right—Wes and I don’t usually avoid difficult conversations. But this time weareavoiding it, and that’s only making things worse.
“I should talk to Wes,” I say with a sigh.
“No shit, Sherlock. Now thank me for my supreme wisdom and ask me howI’mdoing.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Thank you, oh wise one. And how areyoudoing?”
“Good and bad. I think my jewelry design business is a bust.”
I’m tempted to toss out ano shit, Sherlockof my own, but I bite my tongue, because I know Jess is sensitive about her career. Or her lack of career, rather. My sister, God bless her, is the most indecisive person I’ve ever met. She’s twenty-five and has had more jobs than I can count. She’s also enrolled in and dropped out of half a dozen college programs, and created about a dozen Etsy shops that went nowhere.
