I sank down, and my leg started bouncing again. I gripped my knee, forcing my leg still. “It was a bad one.”
Bell leaned forward, planting his forearms on his thighs. His eyebrows drew together, deep lines forming between them. “You comfortable telling me what about?”
“I said shit I shouldn’t have,” I admitted, pressure building behind my sternum like something was trying to crack through. “He trusted me with something, and I threw it back at him when I got jealous. And then he threw some shit back at me and left.”
My nose burned, and I swallowed hard, fighting the stupid, traitorous sting in my eyes.
“We’ve only talked once since then, and now he’s told me not to contact him again. That he needs space.”
“So what—you think you lost him?” Bell dragged a hand over his mouth, thumb pressing briefly into his lower lip.
“Pretty much,” I said, my voice breaking.
He leaned back, humming and linking his fingers over his stomach, the very picture of calm, cool, and collected. Bell was younger than me by a couple of years, but you’d never know it from looking at us now.
He'd been a cocky little fuck when he first entered the league, but he’d grown into the type of man other players turned to when they needed guidance or a steadying presence.
“Did I ever tell you about the first time I thought I lost Ethan?” he asked, his voice low and thoughtful.
“The first time?”
He waved his hand in front of his face, his lips quirking to the side in a wry smile. “That man and I drive each other crazy. The first year or so we were together was touch-and-go. We love each other, but … well. Neither of us is easy to live with. We had to learn to compromise—a lot.”
“I … didn’t know that.”
Not only had I not known any of this, but I had trouble envisioning it. The Ethan Harrison I’d come to know since Bell and I had joined the Marauders was ride-or-die for his man. And Bell? He was head over heels in love with his quiet, gruff husband.
Bell scratched at the stubble lining his jaw. “Not exactly the kind of thing you advertise, right?”
“Guess not,” I muttered.
Not that I'd know anything about that. I couldn’t advertise a goddamn thing about my relationship— assuming I still had one.
“Mind you," Bell continued, "this was back when we were still hiding our relationship. Or rather, what Ithoughtwas a relationship, though any time I tried to get Ethan to admit that’s what it was, he’d freak the fuck out and we’d be back to square one.”
His jaw tightened for half a second, a flicker of old hurt crossing his face before he smoothed it away.
“Anyway,” he went on. “The social media team thought it would be cute to do a series of videos featuring us. You know, play up that whole rookie vs vet thing since we’d gone to the same college and played the same position. Things started out well, but by the third one, some of the comments hit a little too close to home for him, and he ran. I don’t need to tell you how homophobic some hockey fans can be.”
I rubbed my hands back and forth over my thighs. “I can’t imagine being in Texas helped.”
He shook his head and blew out a breath. “No, it did not.”
“So what happened?”
Bell reached up and tugged the elastic from his hair, letting it fall loose around his shoulders. He raked his fingers through it a couple of times, pulling out the tangles, then gathered it back up and twisted it into a tighter knot.
“I stayed up all night waiting for him to come home. When he finally did, he smelled like some cheap, nasty ass cologne. I accused him of fucking someone else. Called him a bunch of names. Told him he had no friends and was going to die alone and miserable.”
“Fuck. Straight for the jugular, huh?”
“In my defense, I was twenty-three, and in love with a man who had zero intention of ever coming out.”
“Sounds familiar.” I snorted softly and shook my head. “How’d you get past it?”
Bell rose and crossed to sit beside me on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. He bumped his shoulder against mine lightly. “Honestly? I didn’t. Not for a long while, anyway. But eventually, I had to decide what mattered more—my hurt or Ethan. I chose him. Ichoosehim. Every single day.”
“And it’s been worth it?” I asked, turning to look him directly in the eye.
