Page 40

Fuck, crutches. Those were the worst. I planted my hands on my hips. “Can he put any weight on his bad leg?”

The man squinted into the screen. “The instructions advise against doing it during the first week, if possible. ”

Myles dipped his head. “Great.”

After checking out of the hospital and another silent and awkward ride home, I helped Myles out of the passenger side of my truck. His father had taken an Uber and was waiting for us in the driveway.

“Need any help?” Mr. Cummings stepped toward us, frowning.

“No, I’ve got it.” If nothing else, I’d show his father how much I loved and cared about his son.

Myles balanced on his good leg, and I handed him the crutches.

I looked him over and then grabbed his backpack from behind the seat. Seeing Myles like this was sad, but with athletes, injuries and crutches were a part of life. “Come on, babe.” I slung his pack over my shoulder and strolled with him and his dad to the front door.

Opening the door, I let them go inside first. Would Zoma or Ace be home yet? Shit, we had some phone calls to make.

With a rough exhale, Myles dropped into a corner of the sectional and spread his braced knee across the cushions. His gaze tracked his father, who sat on my couch.

“Can I get anyone a drink? Gatorade, water…beer?” Lifting my brows, I watched them eye each other. “I think there’s a bottle of whiskey.” I mean, why the fuck not at this point?

“I’d love a glass of whiskey. Neat, please.” Mr. Cummings stretched an arm across the back of the couch.

I poured three shots of whiskey into low-ball glasses and handed them out. As I sunk into the end of the sectional, I said, “I love your son, sir.” Might as well start there.

Sipping his drink, Mr. Cummings grimaced. “Allen, my name is Allen.” He focused on me. “You knew Myles in high school, right? You were friends? ”

“Yes, we were.” I pinched my lips. I wasn’t sure what he was leading to.

“Have you been in a relationship this whole time?” Allen’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his glass.

“No, Dad. We were just friends in high school, eh. He was at Northwestern and came here for his senior year. ASU’s football team won the championship last year, so he wanted…” Myles scowled. “Does it really matter? I’m gay. I’ve always been gay. Go ahead. Give me hell for it.”

“Jesus, Myles.” With a scoff, Allen rose and paced the room, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

“Did you call Mom already?” Myles took a long sip of his drink and hissed, his gaze sweeping to me. “We might need another bottle.”

“You can’t drink your way out of this, Myles.” His father stepped toward him. “Yes, I called your mother. She was shocked. Both of us are, are shocked .” He rubbed his forehead. “Why did you hide this from us?”

With a wince, Myles hefted backward on the couch. “Ow, fuck.”

“Can I get you something, babe?” I placed my hand on his ankle. “Let’s put a pillow under your knee and I’ll grab an ice pack.” I hopped from the couch, scrambled to the freezer, and pulled out one of our ice packs.

“Answer me.” Allen stepped closer, hovering over Myles.

“Because I thought you’d think less of me. Because I thought it might cause problems for Ethan to have a gay hockey-playing brother. Because I already wasn’t good enough.” He glared at his father.

Holy fuck. I stopped at the kitchen island, staring at them.

Clicking his tongue, Allen twisted and paced toward the sliding glass doors leading to our patio. Looking outside, he sipped his drink. “Your mother suspected you might be queer because you always hung around with Tyler Hodge. ”

I crept to Myles, stuffed a pillow under his leg while he lifted it and set the ice pack over his knee. “That good?”

“Yes, thank you.” He wrinkled his forehead. “And thank you for not running away from this.” He brushed his hand down my arm.

“Always.” With my heart aching, I sat beside him and squeezed his hand. “You know I’m not going anywhere.” But I should probably let them hash it out and keep my mouth shut. For now.

As his attention shifted to his father, Myles said, “Dad, do you have a problem with my sexuality or not?” His gaze grew hard. The hockey player was coming out inside him. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

I studied his father, who was still looking out the window.

The muscle in Allen’s jaw bulged. “I do have a problem with it.” Tipping his head back, he sucked in a deep inhale.

“I have a problem with you not having the balls to tell your family.” He strode toward us.

“We deserved to know. You shut us out of a big part of your life. Even if it’s difficult for me to understand, what the hell did you think I’d do?

Do you think I’m the type of man who would throw my son on the street because he’s gay? ” He glared at Myles.

Myles opened and closed his mouth. “I uh…um…”

Should I speak for him? My gaze flicked from Myles to his father, my pulse drumming in my ears. If this was hard for me to watch, how hard was it for Myles?

“N-no?” Myles’s hand shook as he brought his glass to his lips and drank some whiskey.

Allen set his glass on the coffee table and knelt on the floor in front of Myles, planting his hands on the edge of the sectional.

“Son, I’m angry and I’m feeling a little betrayed right now.

But I still love you.” His gaze searched Myles’s face.

“Will you come out publicly if you make it to the NHL?”

“I was going to.” As he swallowed, Myles’s throat bobbed. “I don’t want to hide what I have with Cooper.” His gaze softened as it landed on me. “I love him. We want to make a life together.”

Allen peered at me. “And you’re expecting to be drafted to the NFL this year?”

“I am. My dad played for The Bears. He has connections. If Myles signs with Seattle, we’ll tell the Seahawks I prefer to play for them.” As my eyes stung, I said, “I’ll follow him anywhere.”

With his eyes widening, Allen rose and blinked a few times.

“All a parent wants is for their child to be happy, to live to their true potential and find love.” He squeezed Myles’s shoulder.

“Your friends are changing the NHL for queer players. I suppose you’ll be doing the same.

” A soft grin worked over his mouth. “You have my support. I’ll do whatever I can to help you both. ”

“Thanks, Dad.” Myles patted his father’s hand, his eyes glistening. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Yes, well, the game tickets will go to waste with your leg injury.” Allen picked up his glass and downed the whiskey.

“How many tickets do you have?” Myles studied his father.

“Two.” He strode to the kitchen and set his glass down in the sink. “I need to fly home tonight, but I thought you’d want to take a friend with you.” He sighed.

“Maybe Zoma will want to go with Nova?” Zoma’s boyfriend was the goalie. I adjusted the ice pack on Myles’s leg. “How’s the knee?”

“Fine.” He twisted his lips. “Maybe Leo would go with Zoma.”

“These are friends of yours?” Dad strolled to the couch and sat down.

“Yeah, Zoma is Ace McAdam’s boyfriend, and Leo is Archer Carlson’s boyfriend.” Myles twisted his glass in his hand. “All my friends are queer, Dad, not just Tyler.”

Allen rocked once. “I knew about Mason Hopkins, with what went down with him and Jett Jarvis.” He huffed.

“It’s funny. The signs were all there. Your friends were queer, and you never brought girls around.

I guess parents don’t always see what’s right in front of us.

” He fished his phone out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

“Let’s FaceTime your mother. She’s worried sick about you, and I promised you’d talk to her.

” He tapped on the screen, handed the phone to me, and I passed it to Myles.