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It’s hard to be upset with Justin when he thanks me so sweetly, but I still feel a stab of irritation at the situation itself.

The plate of food in front of me seems almost excessive in comparison to the meal I’d gotten myself.

The carbs and calories here are going to mean extra gym time…

however I did just promise to take Owen out on the ice.

Maybe I can skate some of the extra intake off.

I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate my Boy looking out for me. I’d do the same thing for him if I didn’t think he had enough food on his plate…which, seeing as he has taken mine, now he doesn’t have enough for my liking.

Yes, I know how hypocritical that sounds, but he’s not trying to stay in top shape to be fast on the ice and keep his scholarship. As soon as I’ve graduated, I’ll go back to eating more of what I want, too. It’s not like I love having to watch what I eat so vigilantly.

And I also know I haven’t spoken about this with him.

With everything he’s had going on in his life —moving across the country, getting Owen settled in school, starting a new job and dealing with family drama of his own— he didn’t need to hear about my fear of losing my edge on the ice.

Especially when I’m only worried about making it to graduation and not really about making it as a professional athlete .

But maybe I do need to talk to him about it. I should definitely at least share my thoughts about what I’m going to do after I graduate. I mean, his kid is calling me Daddy Gabe now and that’s…kind of huge.

Alright, there’s nothing ‘kind of’ about it. It is huge. It’s probably even more huge than me realizing that I am ass over skates in love with Justin. Because Justin is an adult who would understand it if things didn’t work out…but Owen isn’t.

Even if I didn’t love that kid as much as I have come to, it wouldn’t be fair on him if things went to shit because I’ve been too cowardly to broach the big, scary, life-changing concepts with Justin.

I knew that dating a single dad would mean having a kid in my life.

I just didn’t think it would lead to anyone other than a grown man calling me Daddy.

I guess that is as much of a surprise as everything else about this relationship has been.

And, while I need to make sure that Justin is okay with his son thinking of me as a parental figure, there’s no going back from here.

I love Justin, I love Owen, and I guess I’ve decided that being a dad (not a kink Daddy, but an actual dad ) at twenty-two when I haven’t even graduated college yet is something I really can embrace.

But, before I can open my mouth to tell Justin that we need to talk, Owen starts to babble excitedly about skating, and I get swept up in that conversation instead.

***

“You’re not coming out on the ice?” I ask Justin as I help Owen tie up his adorably small skates .

The whole team is anxious to help introduce our small team mascot to skating for the first time, and I would have thought that Justin would want to hover nearby as well. But he sits back on the bench and shakes his head.

“It’s not for me. I can kind of skate in an emergency, but I’d rather leave teaching this one” —he gestures at Owen with a wave of his hand— “to the professionals.”

“You’re trusting a bunch of college athletes with your son’s life,” I can’t help teasing. “You’re either brave or really negligent.”

“Shut up,” he scoffs, but his eyes glint with laughter. “Besides, you’re Daddy Gabe , remember?”

I’m the only one who understands the subtext behind the gentle ribbing. I’m his Daddy, and he trusts me implicitly.

Nevertheless, it makes Mason go “Ooooh, told .”

“You know,” Zach muses as he slips a sweater on instead of his jersey, “it’s not cool of you to go get yourself a kid and deprive us the opportunity to throw you a baby shower.”

“A…baby shower?” I ask, bewildered. “He’s not a baby.”

“A small human shower, then,” he says blithely. “We never get to celebrate stuff like that.”

“That’s because most of us know how to wrap it up before…uh…” Mason trails off as he remembers the little ears avidly taking in the locker room talk. My teammate’s cheeks turn pink. “I mean, it’s just a novel experience for one of us to have a kid, isn’t it?”

Zach nods. “And, as your Captain, I think we can consider it a team bonding activity.”

A baby shower. Team bonding. Who are these people?

I catch Justin’s gaze and sigh dramatically. “I’m sorry for all of this. ”

My Boy just smiles and shakes his head. “It’s fine. And, really, it’s kind of my bad. I’m the one who brought the Daddy thing up again.” He bites his lip. “If you’re not okay with it—”

“But he’s my Daddy Gabe,” Owen interrupts, pouting up at his dad. “We talked about this, Daddy.”

“I think we had two very different conversations,” Justin grumbles lightly, making the guys around us chuckle.

“I should be asking you if you’re okay with it,” I tell him seriously. “I completely understand if you’re not.”

There’s so much more I should acknowledge.

Ultimately, especially with the drama he’s faced with Owen’s grandparents, Justin deserves to have final say on the kinds of relationships people can form with his son.

If he doesn’t want to co-parent, especially when we haven’t been dating for that long, I wouldn’t blame him.

As if reading my thoughts, Justin’s expression softens. “I’m okay with it,” he tells me, then smiles down at Owen. “You’re amazing with him,” his smile turns coy and shy as he lowers his voice, “and with me, too.”

My heart squeezes and I grin. “Then I guess I’m Daddy Gabe, huh?”

***

“Whoa!” Owen wobbles on his skates.

I’ve been skating backwards while holding his hands to get him used to the sensation of gliding over the ice. Once I was sure he had some balance, I let his hands go .

The fact that he’s staying upright makes me feel ridiculously proud. My first time on skates, I wound up on my ass within seconds.

“Look at you, buddy!” I praise him. “You’re a natural.”

“Get him a stick already,” Mason adds as he glides past us. He casts a playful smirk over his shoulder. “He’s already outskating Burns.”

Vince spins and slants his skates, sending a spray of ice up at Mason for the chirp.

“Careful,” I warn, “if we don’t respect the rink, Coach will probably bench us.”

Owen gasps. “But you have to play!” He glares at Vince and Mason. “Don’t get Daddy Gabe in trouble.”

Mason skates forward, offering his hand for a high-five. “You’ll make a great captain, little dude.”

Owen wobbles a little more as he tentatively shuffles his skates forward to meet Mason’s outstretched hand, but he makes it without falling. “I’ll be a penguin too,” he declares. “Penguins are my favorite.”

“You’re already on your way,” I tell him, then glance over to where Justin is leaning over the railing at the players’ bench, taking photos with his phone. “He’s doing so well!” I call out, and Justin grins back.

“He has great teachers!”

My stomach flutters and flips with elation and pride.

I knew that Justin trusted me with our kink and with his own vulnerability but trusting me with his son’s safety is still a little mind-blowing.

Even though I still haven’t been brave enough to tell him that I’ve fallen for him, this is the kind of thing that tells me he might feel the same way .

"We should totally run kids skating lessons in the off-season," Mason says. "Or start up our own pee-wee hockey team. The baby penguins!"

I snort. "I think they're called chicks or something."

"We can work on the name," Mason shrugs. "It could count as extra practice for us, and fundraising for the team."

The more I think about it, the more I think it's not actually a bad idea. There would be insurance and stuff to sort out, though, and I think we'd all need Fingerprint Clearance Cards to work with kids, but it would be fun to train up tiny hockey prodigies. Kids like Owen.

“Look, Daddies!” Owen himself interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to watch him mimicking the way Mason skates, confidently pushing off and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

The movements are jerky, and he’s stomping his blades more than he’s gliding, but he is moving under his own power, and I am filled with pride all over again.

“That’s it, kiddo! You’re doing such a good job!” I encourage him.

Earlier, we ran through the rules about falling safely until he could recite them by rote, so I’m not too worried about him stacking it, especially not at such a slow speed.

In fact, I kind of want him to experience his first fall, so he knows it’s not a terrifying thing.

And, sure enough, when he does hit a chunk of uneven ice and loses his balance, he topples onto his butt and, after a moment of stunned silence, giggles.

“My butt is cold!”

He’s wearing thick pants and gloves, and his little cheeks are bright pink from the cold and the exertion of his movements. His joy is contagious, and I can’t help but think that he’s the best step-kid I could have asked for .

Which means I really do need to tell Justin how much I love him.

Mason helps him back to his feet, reminding him to keep his fingers away from the blades of his skates, and then they’re off again, slowly moving together across the ice.

By the end of our short lesson, Owen’s fluidity is already improving, and he’s become a pro at getting himself back to his feet after falling again and again.

“We’re gonna have to teach Daddy how to skate, too,” he tells me as we leave the ice, and Justin shakes his head, already reaching to help Owen out of his skates.

“I think skating can be a you and Daddy Gabe thing.”

And wow.

Wow.

I’m going to have to come up with a pretty epic way to tell Justin I love him, because this? Owen and I having our own thing together? That seems pretty huge.

***

“You really don’t mind— mmph! ” Justin’s question is cut off as I slam my mouth over his.