He smacked me—which, fair.
None of that helped my dilemma of not being able to settle. It had been bad back in the spring, before that turning point, when I’d been dying, waiting for Alan to make his move. Then he had, only the move seemed to have aborted somewhere between cuddling and fucking and I was, once again, losing my mind.
Eventually, Robbie tossed me out of his room, almost the moment Mikko returned from a meeting and came in to strip out of the suit that looked sinfully good on him, to change into sweats, which looked equally good on him. The man was a menace.
“Remember what I said,” I told Robbie as I headed for the door.
“Maybe take your own advice.” He closed the door in my face when I turned to flip him off.
Out in the main room, Carol was asleep on the couch. I’d noticed that was his default activity any day we weren’t at the rink or otherwise training, and I had to wonder what he got up to at night that he needed so many naps.
Michael sat at the dining table, his puzzle mat spread out and a desk lamp lighting up the area so he didn’t have to turn on an overhead light.
Perry sat in the corner workspace, his computer fired up, with his back to the room and a set of headphones over his ears. After we’d cleaned up the supper mess and I’d suggested we turn in early, he’d said he had to work. He was still there, rendering drawings and listening to his ska music that made my head spin.
“Evan.” Alan beckoned me over to where he was sitting on the couch, although the television was off. He had his tablet in his lap and had just taken out an earbud. “Come sit.”
I did, because why not? We’d all taken to finding quiet activities when Carol was sleeping out here. Michael got positively bear-like if we made too much noise. Neither of them wanted to explain why it was Carol had to nap out here, instead of in his bed, but if that’s what he needed, we’d figure out how to work around it.
“What’s up?” I asked as I plopped onto the couch next to Alan, leaning over to see what he’d been watching. For a guy as bossy and alpha as Alan, he watched an awful lot of anime and cozy mystery stories. Currently, John Nettles’s frozen face stared out of the screen at us. “You’ve gone back to the beginning again?” I asked.Midsomer Murdersseemed to be his go-to series that he watched, over and over. “Don’t you know who done all the murders by now?”
“That’s kind of the point.” He folded the cover over the screen and set the tablet and his earbuds aside. “Having something onin the background helps me think. Having it be something I know means I don’t have to pay attention to it. If it’s something I like, I can pay attention if I want.”
“Sounds specific.”
“It is.” He took my hand and kissed the backs of my fingers. “What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re practically vibrating.”
“Oh. That.”
“Yes.” He turned my face so he could stare at me better. “I know Perry can read you without you having to tell him what’s going on, but I’m not as good at it yet. So you have to use your words.”
“I am irrationally and disproportionately worried about the Trials,” I confessed, leaving out all of the why-haven’t-you-fucked-me-yet issues. “Because I know we’re at the top of our game as we’re ever going to get, so rationally, we have as good as or a better chance to win as any other team. The whole thing is set up to give the best team the best chance to win, which makes sense, because we’re sending those guys to the Olympics, and we want to send the best.” I was babbling, but couldn’t seem to stop, even as my brain was frantically applying brakes to my stupid mouth. “The outcome doesn’t hinge on a single game so worrying about screwing up a game, let alone a play, is ridic?—”
“Don’t do that,” Alan said gently. “It’s not ridiculous if it’s how you feel. All the logic in the world can’t talk you out of how you feel. You just have to let yourself have the feeling, then let it go.”
“I think it’s the letting go part that has me stumped. It’s like I’m swimming in it. All the time.” I took my hand back so I could pick at a split nail. “If I start drowning in all of that, that’s when it will affect my game but I don’t know how to get on top of it.”
I sensed eyes on me, and when I looked up, it was to see Michael watching us, like he’d heard me say my mood was about to affect how I played. Coach ears were like mom eyes. They always knew.
Alan took my hand, ignoring him. “Then maybe it’s time I tossed you a lifeline.” He laced his fingers in mine and stood. “Let’s go.”
I got up with him, following him as he led me to the short hallway with closets on either side that ended in the door to our room.
When I glanced back, Perry had also lifted his head. He smile-frowned at me, nodded, then went back to work.
“Let him do what he needs to do, Evan.”
“Work never used to be more important.”
“I don’t think it is now, either. It’s his control mechanism. If he gets an assignment done, he feels like he’s making headway in something. It takes away that stressor, so he can focus on the game. Like a surrogate for all the things he can’t control.”
“Like me.”
We were in the room by then and Alan let go of my hand. “Neither of us want to control you, and you don’t need us to. Now go shower. Be quick but be thorough.”
