“If whatever happened to you was so bad that you can’t say it out loud, then you shouldn’t be here.”
August knew that. Niko liked to remind him every time he was near him. “Me being here is winning us a game. I finally feel like I’m part of this damn team again.”
“Was it Quinn?”
When August looked down at Callahan, a wave of dizziness made him wobble on his skates. “Not in the way you’re worried about, but he’s a part of it.”
Callahan’s boyish charm hardened into the tempered steel that nearly won them a cup last season. “Gusty, you know damn-well that I wouldn’t care if you’re bi, right? I’m making assumptions like a jackass here, but if you and Quinn have history, I understand.”
August’s shoulders slumped, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I used…to be bi. I don’t know what I am anymore.”
Callahan’s lips were pressed tightly together, and August could tell he wanted to ask questions, but he was kind enough to drop it.
“Okay.” Callahan swept a hand through his damp hair, and his expression softened. “About Esme—it’s fine. Apology accepted, so don’t let that bother you anymore. And as for Quinn—”
August flinched and dropped his gaze to the floor.
“Quinn is the most important person in my life right now. He’s all I have left, Gusty. Whatever the history is between you guys—whatever it is—please don’t fucking hurt him. Esme made me promise to keep an eye on him, and even without that promise hanging over me, Quinn is like my brother. I love him.”
August had no intentions of going anywhere near—
“He’s here tonight,” said Callahan. “And now that we’ve had this conversation, I don’t think he’s here to watchme.”
August dragged his gaze upward to meet his captain’s eyes. Callahan was frowning, but one corner of his mouth kept twitching like he was fighting back a smile.
He didn’t know how he felt about Callahan’s observation, so August said nothing.
“And this is the part where I turn on caveman mode and threaten to break your legs.”
August huffed, and the last of the tension that had been eating away inside of him went quiet. “I thought you said you’re close with Quinn? He’s not someone who needs protection. He can take care of himself.”
Callahan’s blond brows shot into his hairline. “Damn. You really did know him.”
He didn’t feel like smiling, but August tried his best. “I think so. It’s…spotty.”
“Christ.” Callahan knocked his fist into August’s chest, slightly rocking him on his skates. “I bet Neeks is getting after you, but if you need to take a leave and sort your shit, you’ll have my support.”
Even after August had been a terrible teammate and a worse friend, Callahan seemed determined to help him. And from what he couldtell, his captain had made a few big promises to a person who was no longer with them, and they were weighing heavily on him.
August didn’t want to add to the weight, so he flashed a convincing smile. “All I need his hockey right now, and maybe for this Advil to kick in,” said August. “You let me handle the rest, and I’ll make sure I get us to a cup.”
Callahan’s posturefinallyrelaxed, and he nodded. “Fine, I’ll take it. I’m happy we had this conversation, because you were seriously scaring me for a second there. You’re one hundred percent an annoying prick for the most part, but I like your surly attitude.”
He got that a lot. August could be a likable person when he wanted; he just didn’t want to be one lately. And after his mental breakdown, he was beginning to understand why he had problems when it came to building healthy relationships.
“Killinger is going to be a pain in the ass next period,” said Callahan.
Smirking, August pushed off the wall and started toward the locker room to gear back up. “Just call him Fraser. It makes him so mad he forgets how to play hockey.”
That earned him a laugh from his captain and a slap on his back. “You really are a dickhead.”
August forced out a chuckle, hoping Callahan didn’t notice the way his hands began to shake after he had touched him. The impact on the scars carved into his flesh had sent him reeling. The corridor vanished for a heartbeat, replaced by the copper scent of blood and his mother’s broken sobs.
Cries of grief for a monster who lay dead, when she had never once cried forhim.
The sound of the team around him when they entered the locker room blurred into static. August clenched his jaw, his entire body going rigid, and he willed himself not to splinter. He’d hold himself together by pure spite if that’s what it took. Superglue the cracks. Tape over the edges. Pretend it didn’t hurt.
He’d done it before. He could do it again.
