The sheer, booming volume of the sound Logan makes hits the locker room walls.
“Fuck, Logan, I’m sitting right next to you!” I hiss. Every single eye in the locker room snaps directly to us. “Fucking perfect,” I mutter.
“So tell us about him! Come on, where did you meet? What’s he look like?” Logan demands, staring at me like I actually have those answers. I love that Logan automatically said ‘him’ with full acceptance.
“Erm, I haven’t actually met him,” I say nervously.
“Whoa, man. Do we need to have a serious chat with you?” Logan’s expression shifts to genuine concern.
“You could totally be getting catfished right now!” Jake shouts from across the room.
“You know what internet people are like,” Dean chimes in.
“Look, we’ve been writing letters for a while now, and I feel like I’m getting to know him, without knowing exactly what he looks like or sounds like,” I explain to the room.
“Hold on… You haven’t even heard his voice?” Logan asks.
“He’s serving at the moment,” I reply.
Instantly, the entire locker room goes dead silent. You could hear a pin drop.
Finally, one of the guys clears his throat. “Hey man, you know you can always talk to us. You don’t have to talk to some sort of convict.”
I blink, completely confused, until Donovan suddenly bursts out laughing.
“Fuck, I wish I could have recorded that! Absolutely priceless!” Donovan roars, wiping a tear from his eye. “He’s not talking to a convict, dickheads, he’s talking to a soldier! Fucking priceless. Alright, if we’re done gossiping like schoolgirls, get your asses out on the ice!”
I turn back to face Logan, glaring playfully. “Thanks for that! I’m going to tell Willow all about how her daddy wasn’t nice to me.”
“Hey, sorry,” Logan laughs, his expression softening. “Look, come out for ice cream with us later and tell me about him. Willow’s been begging for ages to try this new parlor, so I gottatake her. Come with?” He gives me a look, and all I can picture are Willow’s unstoppable puppy dog eyes. “Fuck, don’t look at me like that. You know I can’t say no to that little girl.” Turning to my locker to start changing.
14
Letter
Splash,
I get that people’s opinions of you may not be accurate. Hell, I think if you asked anyone who knows me, they would say I’m the joker of the group, the guy who never takes anything seriously. But for once, I would love to be taken seriously. Especially by the man who keeps giving me whiplash with how much I look forward to his letters.
You have to tell me the story behind your name someday. Has it got anything to do with those adorable little ducks you draw at the bottom of your pages? Because if so, I need to know everything about the man who draws them.
Fuck, Splash… I couldn’t imagine disowning my child just because they wanted to enlist. I get the whole sense of family—that’s my team. We are one unit, and we will always have each other’s backs. To be honest, I’m not sure if I actually told youwhat I do for a living, but I play hockey. Professionally. So my twenty-six-year-old body is completely battered and bruised as I write this on the bus to our next hotel. If you look up the Tidal Teals, you’ll see my face plastered all over their roster. You should probably check the photos, just in case you want to see who you’re flirting with. I’d love to see the man behind these letters, to put a face to a name.
I didn’t tell you at first because people in my world expect me to be this tough, hyper-masculine jock. So I wear a mask, and god do I wear the fuck out of the mask! I play the team clown so the cameras don’t look too close. When you asked what’s stopping me from finding the right person? Honestly, fear. I’ve been screwed over so many times that I don’t think people actually want to know me for me. I think they just want a particular lifestyle. I just want to be seen, Splash. Truly seen. And with you, even in an envelope, I feel like I am. You feel like the first thing I can be honest about without the risk of breaking. Do you think you’d be interested in sharing more than just letters someday? Maybe a cookie?
Keep your head down over there, Soldier. I’m holding the line on this side.
Jackson
PS — I’m still on a mission to find the absolute best cookies for you. These are still double chocolate, but they’re from a little bakery in Houston this time. Let me know which ones are better, and maybe one day I can deliver them in person.
15
Ryan
Does Jackson have a child?
The question circles my mind repeatedly. Maybe I should just ask him, but how do I even bring it up? Oh god, I don’t want to be the guy breaking up a family. Ok, we need to have an actual conversation about this, but I really, really don’t want to. Fuck.
