They were mine again. In their own messy, separate, beautiful ways. Jer with his stormy silences and haunted eyes, Dirks with his steady warmth and that soft heart he pretended wasn’t always breaking for me.
I fought to find my way back to them. Bled for it. Lied for it. Ran halfway across the world and to be back standing right here again—laughing in a parking lot under shitty fluorescent lights,holding keys that didn’t belong to me, heart full of two boys who never really stopped being home.
I wouldn’t trade this for anything.
32
dirks
The jets hummed low beneath the water, steam curling up into the cold night air, and honestly? I needed this. My body was wrecked after tonight’s game. My hips were tight, my shoulders were barking, and legs felt like they’d been dragged behind a Zamboni.
Jer sat across from me, sunk low in the water, his arms stretched wide along the ledge, black hair soaked and slicked back, eyes half shut. He looked relaxed, which was rare.
We were both stripped down to our boxers, lazily soaking while Luna was inside changing and grabbing drinks. Probably also raiding the pantry for snacks she’d insist she didn’t eat and then devour in exactly four bites.
I watched the sliding door for a second, then looked back at Jer.
“I got a question to ask.”
He cracked one eye open. “Yeah?”
“My mom invited Luna up north. After the holidays. During my bye week.”
His brows lifted, just a little. “In Minnesota?”
I smirked. “Ha. Yeah.”
Jer nodded, jaw ticking slightly. “You inviting her as your girlfriend or... what are we calling this?”
“Yeah... I think she’ll be my girl when she comes.”
“Cool. You don’t need my permission, man. We’re?—”
“Friends,” I finished, already knowing where he was headed. “Yeah. I know. It’s not about that.” I glanced over at him, the water lapping gently between us. “I wanted to ask if you’d come with. I don’t know if you’re working or what, but I figured I’d throw it out there.”
Jer rubbed a hand over his face, flicking water off his chin. “I work at the front desk at the rehab center, man. Mostly check-ins and phone calls. It’s nothing I can’t get time off from.”
He could be doing so much more. Jer wasn’t built for desk jobs. He used to be an NHL superstar before the booze, before everything fell apart. He could be doing so much with that knowledge. Working with Ledger. Coaching kids, teaching them to skate, to fall, to get back up again. He had that in him. Whether he saw it yet or not.
But that was a subject for another time.
“I’m not bringing this up just to be polite. I want you to come.”
Jer blinked and shook his head.
“I’m serious. It’s not just me and her anymore. It hasn’t been. It’sus. And if we’re doing this—whatever this crazy, sideways, rule-breaking thing is—we don’t leave pieces of it behind.”
The sliding door creaked open, and out walked chaos herself.
“What are we talking about?” Luna balanced a plate stacked with snacks and a couple of water bottles like she was hosting a PTA meeting instead of walking into a hot tub full of sexual tension and emotional trauma.
A bright pink cheetah-print towel was wrapped tightly around her.
“That towel is a lot.”
“It’s giving 1987 sleepover with claw clips and grape soda,” Jer muttered.
“It’s giving you’re lucky I’m sharing my Doritos,” she shot back, setting the plate down on the little side table.
