I want to rip them apart for making him feel like this.
“I’d never do that to you,” I say sternly so he knows I’m serious. “I wanted to see you, and it’s on me to make that effort.”
The lights change to green, and it takes immense effort to turn my attention back to the road as his smile lights up his entire face.
There are a few cars parked outside when we pull up outside the twenty-four-hour diner. My hand itches to take his as we cross the lot and head inside. It’s one of Walt’s favorite places. It has a classic ’50s vibe to it. Black-and-white checkered tiles line the floors with pastel blue walls and a mix of red vinyl booths and smaller round tables.
I quickly assess the people already seated once inside. An older man sits on a stool at the countertop, chatting to one of the waitstaff with a cup in his hand. On the far side, in one of the booths, sit a few college-aged kids, laughing and joking. I slide into one of the booths, sitting on the side that faces the door, and angle my body so my back is to the wall. I hand one of the laminated menus to Elliot before taking my own, but my eyes stay fixed on him, watching the different expressions on his face as he reads through the options.
“Wow, there’s so much choice,” he laughs nervously. I can see the sense of overwhelm in his eyes when he lifts his head. “What are you getting?”
“I usually get the Reese’s sundae. But I’ve had the cookies-and-cream one too. They’re both good.”
He nods a few times, fingers tapping on the table in the same rhythm as the day I rescued him.
“Want me to pick for you?” I offer. It’s something I had to do for Duncan sometimes. The volume of choice became too much, and his mind would go blank.
Elliot glances up from the table, and his shoulders sag as he nods again. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. I like the sound of all of them except the bubble-gum one.”
I smile. “You got it.”
When the waitress comes over to take our order, I order both the Reese’s and cookies-and-cream sundaes, along with two diet sodas.
“We can share,” I say once the waitress leaves, and Elliot smiles, dipping his chin to his chest.
“So, what made you get into hockey?” I ask.
“Blaine, mostly. He was into it first, and I used to play goalie for him in the backyard. I always wanted to be a firefighter, but then I got locked in a cupboard when I was in the first grade and ended up with claustrophobia, so that was never gonna happen. But as I got older, hockey became the one thing I found that would silence the noise in my brain. It’s like whenever I’m out on the ice, everything becomes quiet. And I became pretty good at it. So, my parents encouraged me to go down the hockey route with Blaine. But in college, I studied marine biology ’cause it’s always tougher for goalies to get a shot at going pro, and I love animals, so I wanted to have a backup.”
I listen intently as he talks. My chest warming at the sense he’s becoming more comfortable with me again, like the day at the arcade.
“Do you think you’ll work with animals once you retire from hockey?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. I’d like to, but I don’t know what I would need to do, and I don’t think I could go back to school. I struggled a lot in school.”
Before I can ask him what he struggled with, the waitress brings over our sodas and sundaes. I slide mine across the table.
“You take the first bite, see which one you’d prefer more of.”
He takes a spoonful of each and settles on the cookies-and-cream one.
“How long have you been a firefighter for?” he asks between mouthfuls.
“Nearly six years. I, uh, I was a Navy SEAL for ten years before that. I got out shortly after I turned thirty.”
His eyes widen. “Wow. Isn’t that like the fancy one?”
I chuckle under my breath. “Something like that, yeah.”
“That’s cool. One of the main bases wasn’t far from where I grew up.”
“Where was that?”
“Coronado.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you kidding?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. When we were in high school, me and Blaine used to go down to the beach sometimes and watch them work out. He figured out his sexuality a lot quicker than I did.”
