CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JONAH
Feelingalong the edge of the cardboard, I used my elbow to press the flaps down and secured the tape over the top. “This one is the final box of office stuff.”
Amedeo took it, and I tried not to wince at the sound of the Sharpie scratching out what was probably the word “office,” but fuck, it was an obnoxious sound. “Done. I also just got a text from Hugo. He and Bodie are here with the truck.”
Most of my dad’s stuff was going into storage. It had been three weeks since the court appointment. Three weeks since getting the call from Shaded Meadows Memory Care telling me they had a spot for my dad.
Three weeks since getting him settled into his new room with a new medication to start and round-the-clock staffing care to make sure that if and when he wandered, it wouldn’t be off the grounds and into another kebab shop.
Not that I regretted when he’d done that the first time, considering it had gotten me a boyfriend and two very good friends out of the deal.
I shivered at the thought of the word “boyfriend.” At the memory of Alexio’s warm hands and thick cock and the kisses he couldn’t stop giving me now that it was allowed.
“You’re smiling,” Amedeo pointed out.
I pressed my fingers over my lips and sighed.
“Young love is disgusting.”
My brows shot up. “Are you serious? My friend. My buddy. My dude…”
“I know, I know.” I could hear the grin in his voice.
“You two are still disgusting, and I fucking love that for you.” I settled back on my hands and tipped my head up toward the ceiling. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was coming in through the blinds, warm on my cheeks, which was nice.
This wasn’t exactly the way I wanted to spend my day. I would have rather been at the arena for Alexio’s final game of the season before playoffs started, but needs must…I don’t know, keep me from hiding in the locker room and blowing my hot boyfriend after his game once everyone was gone.
Or whatever that saying was.
“We get to meet him tonight, right?” Amedeo asked softly.
Tucker, Ford, and Killian knew Alexio well, and Boden had met him the one night he’d helped out at my dad’s, but that was long before Alexio and I had become a thing. I hadn’t wanted to do a big coming-out moment because the idea of it during the season was way too fucking stressful, so I let Ford unleash the secret he’d been holding for a few weeks now, and all I did was deal with the barrage of text messages saying I either won or cost them money on their bets.
The only people I told myself were Micah and Caleb.
Micah seemed annoyed that it was Alexio Zeki. Caleb wasn’t a sports guy. He still called hockey the flat-ball, knife-shoe sport, so Alexio’s name meant nothing to him. But they both seemed happy for me.
Or something like it.
They weren’t angry or judgmental, so that was enough.
Then life continued to happen. I had doctor appointments with my dad, a shitload of paperwork to fill out, and now it was officially moving day. We’d be stopping by the storage unit, then Shady Meadows, and then I was going to meet Alexio at the arena and ride home with him because fucking hell, I needed to be in his arms.
“We’re doing dinner at my place, and then all of you have to immediately get the fuck out so we can have sex on all the furniture.”
“Gross.”
I snorted and rolled up to my knees, then stood and cracked my back. “Like you and Tuck don’t do the same thing when you haven’t seen each other for a while.”
Tucker had given up playing sled hockey, but he was now my coach, which meant the roadies were longer, and his stress levels were higher. We had already secured our wildcard spot in the playoffs, and Amedeo said he was finally starting to adjust to the schedule.
And to Tucker’s bad moods.
Amedeo squeezed my arm gently, and then I heard him lift the box and shuffle out of the room. I wasn’t very careful when I followed him. The apartment had come furnished, but the only thing I needed to worry about now was the bed and a few end tables on my journey from the bedroom to the living room.
The place felt weird now. Sort of empty and hollow. I wasn’t going to miss this place. Not really. It was sad and terrible, and while the bitter part of me might have thought it was a little bit of karma biting my dad in the ass, I didn’t really believe that.
