Page 42 of Full Body Hit, Part 1 (Alpha Omega Hockey #5)

He managed to put something together for breakfast, hands shaking with the residue of adrenaline. It was a relief when Chase retreated to his room, quiet and subdued.

Auston practically collapsed onto one of the stools. That had been so stupid. There was no way…

He should probably sit with this crazy theory for a while, but he was going to fucking die if he didn’t hear Charlie’s voice.

Charlie and Chase were different people.

He stared at his phone. Picked it up. In a low voice, he sent Charlie a voice memo.

“Hey. You wanna talk today?”

He got a message back.

“Now?”

That got Auston’s blood rushing again. He’d expected Charlie to say no, or to suggest a later time. He wasn’t ready yet.

Although…ready for what? It was just Charlie.

It was just Charlie.

Auston went to his room, closing the door behind him before calling.

“Hey.” Charlie’s voice was the same as always. Maybe a little quieter, but the cadence soothed Auston’s nerves, a Pavlovian response.

“Hey, baby. How are you doing?”

“ Urgh , definitely better than yesterday.”

Auston’s stomach roiled around like a caught snake. “Oh, were you feeling poorly?”

There was a pause. “Okay. Don’t be upset, I just didn’t want to worry you.”

Auston’s mouth was dry. “Okay.”

“My phone didn’t actually break. I had a little fall and hit my head and got, like, the smallest concussion ever, so…”

Charlie was still talking, but Auston had stepped out of himself. There was his body standing beside his unmade bed, phone pressed to his ear, but it was all so far away.

There was an odd ringing sound.

He sat down.

“Aunix? Daddy? I’m sorry, don’t be mad.”

Those words managed to pierce through the fog. “I’m…I’m not mad.”

“Sorry I lied. I just couldn’t talk a lot.”

Auston had to take several seconds to realise what Charlie was even apologising for.

Right, he’d said his phone was broken, but that wasn’t true.

How many people got concussions a day in New Orleans?

“No, it’s…it’s okay.” Auston searched for something normal to say. “But you’re okay? Is someone helping you out?”

“Well…okay, this is gonna sound weird, but I’m actually at my co-worker’s house. The one who doesn’t like me, but he’s been surprisingly nice. So I’m totally fine, promise.”

Auston wasn’t sure he was breathing.

The co-worker who doesn’t like me . The co-worker who had made Charlie cry, who had made him feel worthless, who Auston had argued was an asshole and an idiot.

Fuck. Oh, my God.

This was insane. This wasn’t happening. He was in some weird nightmare.

It wasn’t like Auston had even suspected. There should have been clues. A slow progression of epiphanies that had led to a final one. Auston had glanced at Chase naked in the locker room. He’d seen Chase dressed in casual clothing. He’d played with him for fucking months .

Hadn’t he ever asked Chase about his family? How didn’t he know if his dad was dead? About his mom?

No one could be this stupid. This was all…this was all a coincidence. This wasn’t a movie; this was real life, and life didn’t go like this.

Auston cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re okay. You probably shouldn’t be on the phone if you have a concussion, though. Gotta rest up.”

“I am,” Charlie grumbled.

“We can talk later, okay?”

“Okay.” Charlie sighed. “But you’re not mad?”

“No. I just want you to be okay.”

“I am. Promise.”

“Good. Rest up. Talk later.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

“Bye, baby.”

The call went dead.

Auston tossed the phone aside, running his fingers through his hair. A loud, incredulous laugh left his chest.

He was losing it. Of course Charlie and Chase weren’t the same person. Maybe he’d hit his head too and was making shit up.

He got to his feet, ignoring the pain in his hip. Maybe he should check in on Chase, though.

He went to the guest room, knocking and waiting for a reply before opening the door.

The kid was sitting up in bed, blinking owlishly at him.

“Hey. Uh. You feeling okay?”

“ Uhm …yeah. A lot better than yesterday.”

A bolt went through Auston.

Hadn’t Charlie said the exact same thing?

“Right. Well. I was thinking. Since you can’t use a phone—is there anybody from your family I should call? Or send a message to?”

“Oh, uhm …I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“No? What about your dad? Your mom?” Auston insisted, knowing he was being weird but not knowing what else to do.

“Uh, no…my dad died when I was little, and my mom…she’s…I think she knows I have a concussion. I’ll talk to her after I feel better.”

Auston nodded automatically. There was no blood left inside him. Something oily was coursing through his veins instead, coating the walls of his organs, the capillaries on his skin. “Okay. Well. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay…”

Auston retreated back to his room. He shut the door.

He couldn’t breathe. He literally couldn’t breathe.

He wanted to pace, but his hip hurt too badly, forcing him to sit at the edge of the bed.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered, digging his fingers into his forehead.

He stared at the white wall. A projection of every nasty word and action he’d said and done to Chase flickered there, grainy and distorted, warping as he watched.

Charlie didn’t have a scent. Chase had one, but it wasn’t normal. It never changed.

Almost like it wasn’t real.

“Oh, God.” He was going to be sick. His throat spasmed with his urge to vomit.

There before him, no matter how much he didn’t want to look at them, were two undeniable truths.

Charlie, the man Auston had come to love more than he’d ever loved anyone else, was Chase…and Auston had already ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.

To be continued…

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