And I also know I haven’t spoken about this with him. With everything he’s had going on in his life —moving across the country, getting Owen settled in school, starting a new job and dealing with family drama of his own— he didn’t need to hear about my fear of losing my edge on the ice. Especially when I’m only worried about making it to graduation and not really about making it as a professional athlete.
But maybe I do need to talk to him about it. I should definitely at least share my thoughts about what I’m going to do after I graduate. I mean, his kid is calling me Daddy Gabe now and that’s…kind of huge.
Alright, there’s nothing ‘kind of’ about it. It is huge. It’s probably even more huge than me realizing that I am ass over skates in love with Justin. Because Justin is an adult who would understand it if things didn’t work out…but Owen isn’t.
Even if I didn’t love that kid as much as I have come to, it wouldn’t be fair on him if things went to shit because I’ve been too cowardly to broach the big, scary, life-changing concepts with Justin.
I knew that dating a single dad would mean having a kid in my life. I just didn’t think it would lead to anyone other than a grown man calling me Daddy. I guess that is as much of a surprise as everything else about this relationship has been. And, while I need to make sure that Justin is okay with his son thinking of me as a parental figure, there’s no going back from here. I love Justin, I love Owen, and I guess I’ve decided that being a dad (not a kink Daddy, but an actualdad) at twenty-two when I haven’t even graduated college yet is something I really can embrace.
But, before I can open my mouth to tell Justin that we need to talk, Owen starts to babble excitedly about skating, and I get swept up in that conversation instead.
***
“You’re not coming out on the ice?” I ask Justin as I help Owen tie up his adorably small skates.
The whole team is anxious to help introduce our small team mascot to skating for the first time, and I would have thought that Justin would want to hover nearby as well. But he sits back on the bench and shakes his head.
“It’s not for me. I can kind of skate in an emergency, but I’d rather leave teaching this one” —he gestures at Owen with a wave of his hand— “to the professionals.”
“You’re trusting a bunch of college athletes with your son’s life,” I can’t help teasing. “You’re either brave or really negligent.”
“Shut up,” he scoffs, but his eyes glint with laughter. “Besides, you’reDaddy Gabe, remember?”
I’m the only one who understands the subtext behind the gentle ribbing. I’mhisDaddy, and he trusts me implicitly.
Nevertheless, it makes Mason go “Ooooh,told.”
“You know,” Zach muses as he slips a sweater on instead of his jersey, “it’s not cool of you to go get yourself a kid and deprive us the opportunity to throw you a baby shower.”
“A…baby shower?” I ask, bewildered. “He’s not a baby.”
“A small human shower, then,” he says blithely. “We never get to celebrate stuff like that.”
“That’s because most of us know how to wrap it up before…uh…” Mason trails off as he remembers the little ears avidly taking in the locker room talk. My teammate’s cheeks turn pink. “I mean, it’s just a novel experience for one of us to have a kid, isn’t it?”
Zach nods. “And, as your Captain, I think we can consider it a team bonding activity.”
A baby shower. Team bonding. Who are these people?
I catch Justin’s gaze and sigh dramatically. “I’m sorry for all of this.”
My Boy just smiles and shakes his head. “It’s fine. And, really, it’s kind of my bad. I’m the one who brought the Daddy thing up again.” He bites his lip. “If you’re not okay with it—”
“But he’s my Daddy Gabe,” Owen interrupts, pouting up at his dad. “We talked about this, Daddy.”
“I think we had two very different conversations,” Justin grumbles lightly, making the guys around us chuckle.
“I should be asking you if you’re okay with it,” I tell him seriously. “I completely understand if you’re not.”
There’s so much more I should acknowledge. Ultimately, especially with the drama he’s faced with Owen’s grandparents, Justin deserves to have final say on the kinds of relationships people can form with his son. If he doesn’t want to co-parent, especially when we haven’t been dating for that long, I wouldn’t blame him.
As if reading my thoughts, Justin’s expression softens. “I’m okay with it,” he tells me, then smiles down at Owen. “You’re amazing with him,” his smile turns coy and shy as he lowers his voice, “and with me, too.”
My heart squeezes and I grin. “Then I guess I’m Daddy Gabe, huh?”
***
“Whoa!” Owen wobbles on his skates.
