Page 58

Cross stuck out his foot, eyeing the bulky plastic boot he wore, while waiting for his ride home. How sad that this was progress, being right back where he’d started two months ago. And yet, the doc was right that the pain had eased faster this time around. He tried to be hopeful.

Rusty pulled Cross’s Highlander up at the curb in front of the hospital and jumped out. “Happened to be in the neighborhood. Need a ride, dude?”

That made Cross laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“They cancelled camp for the rest of the day. The storm this morning brought down the powerline to the center, and until they fix it, we’re taking a break. So I told Arthur I’d come get you.”

“He should’ve cleared that with me.” Cross wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or pissed that his driver listened to Rusty. Sure, he’d told everyone Rusty was staying with him and to be treated like family, but there were protocols.

“He cleared it with your scary security lady.” Rusty lost some of his good cheer. “Unless you’d rather ride with Arthur.”

“No. God, no.” Cross almost reached for Rusty, remembering at the last moment that this was a busy hospital parking area and he could see at least one person with a cellphone out.

I’m going to come out to the team and the fans.

As soon as this thing is off my foot, I’m done hiding.

He tried a joke. “A drive with hockey conversation or talking about golf? No contest.” When Rusty didn’t smile, he added, “That’s a joke. ”

“Let’s get you in the back with your foot raised.”

“Let’s get me in the front like a normal person for a change. I only have to elevate half the time now.”

That did make Rusty look happier. “That’ll make life easier.”

“No kidding.” They’d made out in bed yesterday, and ended with him giving Rusty a blow job lying on his side, his head pillowed on Rusty’s thick thigh, his bad foot up on a pillow. It wasn’t his favorite position, although lying flat for the massage he got in return hadn’t been a hardship.

Rusty had come in Cross’s mouth, although it’d taken a while.

Cross wasn’t sure how much was the awkward angle, and how much was lingering uncertainty.

He’d insisted he didn’t need the massage, didn’t need payback, sucking Rusty off was fun for both of them, not some kind of transaction.

Rusty pouted and asked why he was taking the massage class if Cross wouldn’t let him practice and Cross said of course, he could practice.

Rusty’s strong, if still inexpert, hands had melted Cross’s muscles down into relaxed mush, and they’d spent then next hour dozing and lazily making out.

A good ending, but he figured they still had work to do to get comfortable with their newly established dynamic.

Whatever it takes. That hour of being with Rusty, hands and mouths, no pressure, no goals, just the man he loved and skin on skin, was the best he could ever remember feeling.

“What should we do with your day off?” he asked as Rusty boosted him into the SUV passenger seat and stowed his crutches behind him.

“I don’t know.”

“I have some interesting ideas.” Cross put a little heat in his tone and Rusty gave him a sideways look that became a faint grin.

“Yeah?”

Before he could take it further, Rusty’s phone pinged with an email chime. Rusty pulled out of the exit lane into an empty row of stalls and put the SUV in park. “I should check. Maybe the community center got power back faster than expected.”

“Sure.” Although Cross hoped not.

Rusty dug out his phone, checked his email, and froze, staring.

Cross couldn’t figure out the look on his face. “What? Bad news?”

Rusty shook his head and passed over the phone. The email on the screen came from the Tacoma Tornados organization. “Your invitation to attend development camp with the Tornados July 1 – 5.”

The body of the email told Rusty he would participate in skills testing and assessment for strength, range of movement, and aerobic capacity. Attendees would receive personally tailored nutritional advice, leadership training, and a media workshop…

“That’s excellent!” Cross grinned. “I knew your season with Eugene would’ve impressed them.”

Rusty took back the phone with unsteady fingers. “They’re going to give nutrition advice to guys living off ECHL salaries.”

“Quit bitching and send back your acceptance.” Cross bopped Rusty’s thigh with the heel of his hand. “Go on.”

“Right.” Rusty typed out a brief acceptance, passed it to Cross for proofreading, and sent it winging off. “So.” A grin slowly crept over his face. “I’m going to the AHL. Well, for development, and just a week, but, fuck, Cross, it’s the AHL!”

“We have to celebrate.”

“Shit, yeah. Pizza?”

Cross had to laugh. “That’s what you came up with?”

“I’m hungry and I like pizza.”

“How about steak?”

“I like steak too.”

“Now that I can sit with my leg under a table for an hour, I want to take you out to eat—” He was interrupted by a different ping from Rusty’s phone.

“Huh.” Rusty swiped, peered down.

“What?”

“It’s a text from my old landlady, Mrs. Murinko.” Rusty eyed the screen. “She says she was deep cleaning the apartment for the drywaller and found a sealed letter of mine, a set of ear buds, my black sneakers, and a discount card from Fedora’s.”

“Fedora’s?”

“Local Eugene pizza. I’m probably close to a free large pizza on that card.”

“Never heard of them.”

“You should try them.” Rusty typed back. “She wants me to come get the stuff. And she says to bring ‘the young man I am seeing.’ She wants to meet you. Wow, I thought she was more of a conservative type. That’s cool.”

Cross was a bit unsettled that she’d somehow figured out Rusty had a boyfriend, maybe even who. “I wonder how she knows.”

Rusty shrugged. “The walls are thin in that house. She probably overheard something. It’s cool, though.

She’s clearly more gay friendly than I thought, but she’s also not a sports fan.

She’d have no clue who you are. She still thinks football means soccer, and she told me to go have fun playing ball. ”

“Okay. You could probably replace all that stuff for less than the gas to drive down there.”

“Maybe. But there’s that letter, whatever it is, plus I want my sneakers. And I want to stay on her good side. She was taking in short term renters for the summer, but I really want to be back in there next season. I am not sharing a place.”

“You might be in the A—”

Rusty slapped his palm over Cross’s mouth. “Don’t jinx me.”

“Sorry.”

He typed back. “I’m telling her I’ll come down on the weekend… Oh, she’s heading out of town for a week.” He looked at Cross. “She mentioned you again, but it’ll take me four hours or so to run down and back up here today. That’s a long-ass drive. I can drop you off at the house.”

“Let’s go together.” Cross was hit with a sudden desire to get out of his rut.

He’d spent most of the last two months inside walls and while they were luxury walls, he really needed to get out and go somewhere.

“Now I have the cast off, I can sit like a normal person. I’d love to meet Mrs. Murinko.

” He had a feeling the landlady had filled a minor family role for Rusty, in a world where his real family had declared him dead. Cross wanted to thank her for that.

“Are you sure?”

“Hell, yeah. You can even show me, what was it? Fedora’s pizza? They do know a fedora’s a hat, right?”

“They know. The place is super cool, real 1920s vibes.”

“Okay, sounds great.”

Rusty still eyed him. “You have to put your foot up when we get there, for, like, a few hours before we drive back. I’m not screwing with your recovery.”

“If I’m sore, I can ride home in the back seat with my leg up.” Cross laughed. “Come on, boyfriend, let’s have an adventure.”

Rusty typed a reply, put the SUV in gear, and pulled out slowly. “You do know this is Eugene, right? Very low adventure potential.”

“After a month in rehab? Everything’s an adventure.”

“Fair enough. Okay.” Rusty picked up speed and changed lanes, heading for the highway. “I’m really curious what Mrs. Murinko will say when she meets you. And I want you to like her.”

The I-5 from Portland down to Eugene was boring although there were some scenic moments. Cross spent the drive looking up who else might be invited to the Tornados development camp and mulling over the competition with Rusty.

“I wonder how the Tornados feel about me being gay,” Rusty mused.

“They wouldn’t have invited you if it was a deal breaker. They had a solid Pride night last season.”

“Yeah, good sign.” Some teams had cut back.

Cross thought for a while, as the green hills rolled by. “Do you think I should wait to come out till after your development camp? Or even the start of the season? So as not to draw attention to you?”

“Whoa, wait, what are you talking about?”

“Me coming out as bi. And maybe as ace, although I’m not sure about that yet. Coming out as your boyfriend.” When Rusty took his eyes off the road to stare, Cross blinked in confusion. “What? You knew I’ve been talking about doing that.”

“Yeah, but… not in any real way. Like, not ‘Should I do it in June or July?’ way. Just, someday.”

“Shit.” Cross ached. Apparently Rusty hadn’t believed him enough to trust he’d follow through. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I wanted to hide you forever.”

Rusty had to give his attention to the heavy freeway traffic but he shrugged. “Forever’s a long time. Being out in hockey can be shit. I understood.”

“No, Rusty, mon chou, that’s not what I meant at all.”

“No?” Rusty threw him a glance. “And why are you calling me a shoe?”

“Mon chou. It just popped out. It means, my cabbage.”

“Cabbage? Seriously?”

“It’s an endearment in French. Chou is cabbage although we also use it for a creampuff.”

Rusty snorted. “I’m not sure that’s any better.”

“I don’t know. Full of rich, delicious cream?”

“Delicious? I may be wasting Fedora’s pizza on someone with your tastebuds.”