Page 134 of Forbidden Hockey

He’s been moving around here too fast. Like he has to so that he can escape?—

“I don’t want to think about anything, Trav.” He slumps onto the bench seat next to me.

“This have anything to do with what you were talking to Stacey about earlier?”

“You caught that, eh?”

I frown. “That bad?”

“No, I just … this is awkward, I … Look, I hope I’m not ruining something exciting Dash might wanna tell you, but it’s all happening so fast, because everyone’s zero to fucking sixty this summer.”

I’m trying to be patient, but I kinda wanna shake it outta him. All my alarm bells are going off. Doesn’t he know that his happiness is my top priority? If he’s upset, I need to fix it, asap.

“They’re buying a house—Sutter, Casey, Stacey, Dash … maybe Rhett and Logan, and me, I guess. I didn’t say anything before because it was a Sutterchuck brainchild, and I didn’t know how serious they were. As it turns out, very serious. I agreed to it, but…”

Dirk doesn’t need to say more than that. The breath leaves my lungs, and I have a hard time getting it back.

He gives a weak smile. “At least you get it,” he says.

I risk squeezing his hand under the table. “It should be us moving into a house together.”

“A house? You’d move out of your apartment? You love that place.”

“I love you more, Dirk.” He bites his lip, the smile curling into his eyes. “My apartment’s too small for two people long-term.”

“At least it’s a good investment, and I’m sure they’d buy me out down the road if things change for us, so, y’know, whatever.”

He tries to shrug it off, but it’s bothering him. “Let’s tell them, right now.”

“What? No, Trav, are you crazy? Hunter still comes by the house enough that I’d have to watch Dash like a hawk. This is my fault for being a coward, but it’s too soon for us to move in together anyway.”

“We’ve been together for over a year, baby,” I murmur, even though no one’s gonna hear me over the singing.

“Do you count since that fight in your office?” He smirks.

“It was not a fight—but yes.”

“Me too. But I didn’t mean it was too soon for us to live together. Even if I told Hunt tomorrow, we gotta let him get through one shock at a time.”

Yeah, okay, I was jumping the gun on that one, but I like the idea of him moving into a place that isn’t mine—ours—about as much as I would enjoy swimming in a vat of scorpions. It feels like they’re stealing him, which is absurd. If anything, I’mstealing him. But the topic’s only serving to agitate him further, so I leave it alone. He knows where I stand, at least, and that’s something.

Instead of talking, we watch his friends attempt to put on a musical.

“Man, they’re idiots,” he says.

Stacey’s got his arms around Dash from behind, Casey’s climbed onto Sutter’s back with a microphone—which can’t be good for his ears—and Mercy’s got Jack by the shirt, way more into the song than you’d think he’d be. Pretty sure Rhett and Logan think they are Danny Zuko and Sandy with the way Rhett’s on a knee and Logan’s singing to him.

“But you love ‘em.”

“Yeah, I fucking love the chuckleheads.”

I’m not sure what he’s running away from thinking about. There’s a lot on the docket—Hunter, Robin, our big secret—take your fucking pick. But if pretty boy wants to immerse himself in anything other than that clusterfuck, I’m happy to help.

I stand up.

“Where you goin’, Trav?”

I don’t answer, leaving him for the stage as the Grease classic comes to an end.