Page 7
Chapter Seven
Josh
Sure , I had said. Hockey One Oh One , I’d agreed. I didn’t think that would mean I’d be up at five thirty in the fucking morning on a Saturday. But there I was, gym bag in hand, approaching a side door to the ice rink that was propped open and all but blocked with Campbell Ryan’s huge chest. He was scrolling through his phone until he heard me approach.
I was greeted with the brightest smile I’d ever seen at five fucking thirty in the morning. I hoisted my gym bag with my good hand and waved to him with my brace, and that beautiful smile immediately turned to a look of concern.
“Hi?” I had the word come out as a question, hoping he’d explain his change in demeanor.
“Hey,” he responded. “I’m such an idiot. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.” I gave him a head tilt in further question. “I mean, your hand. When you fall …”
“Excuse me, when I fall?”
“Well, yeah, it’s your first time on skates and all. The likelihood …”
“What makes you think it’s my first time on skates?” I swung my bag in front of me. “You know I grew up here, right? I’ve skated my whole life.” He looked at me incredulously. “In circles, around the pond at Hampstead State Park. It’s practically an obligation at the Winter Festival. I’ll be fine.”
He opened the door wide, still skeptical and doing that thing where he held it and made me squeeze past him, my wool coat brushing against his fluffy down jacket. The move no longer surprised me, so I looked right at him as I passed and said, “Thank you,” our faces close.
“To the right,” he responded before overtaking me. I followed him down a long, gray hallway until we reached a series of doors, and he stopped. Pointing to one, he asked, “What’s your size? There are skates in here.”
I gave him one more perplexed look, moved my bag to the front again, and held it up. “Got my own.”
“Wow, okay. Let’s see what you can do, then!” We continued down the hall and entered a locker room. Campbell led me toward the back, where a series of lockers and cubbies lined the wall. He stopped in front of the one labeled fifty-nine and took one of the pairs of skates out.
I sat on the bench in front of the lockers and took my brace off as I toed off my shoes, ready to get laced up. Campbell eyed me with concern.
“Put that back on,” he barked, and before I could do anything, he was on his knees in front of me, holding his hand out for me to hand over a skate.
“I can do this,” I said, but I passed one to him all the same. He looked it over.
“They were my older brother’s. Been around for a long time.”
“Good brand,” was all he said as he tapped my foot and guided me into the skate. I felt ridiculous, but I have to say, for the brief moment he was gently holding me, I felt something else as well. Just like Campbell himself, it was this inexplicable combination of spark and calm. I looked at his hand, cupping my ankle, then when I lost his touch, I looked at him, and we locked eyes.
We repeated the move for my other foot without taking our eyes off each other. I worried the pulse of my heartbeat could be felt through my socks as he lifted my foot like it was some precious work of art, guiding it into the clunky boot like he was threading a needle.
Then Campbell patiently laced up each skate. We didn’t speak, but he questioned me with a head tilt, and I nodded to indicate that the laces weren’t too tight. I watched intently as he laced up the second boot. I pushed off the bench as soon as he was done, trying to break the tension in the air, but he sprung up and pushed me back down, hands on my shoulders.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Where do you think?” I pointed to the door.
He shook his head. “Wait for me.”
“Just point me in the right direction. I told you I can skate!”
“And I told you I’m not going to let you fuck up your hand. Wait. For. Me!”
Had he deliberately slowed down to put his skates on, or was I just impatient, standing on my blades and watching him lace up? He was in Hampstead-maroon sweats with a heather-gray hoodie; its lettering matched the pants. His hair was floppy and dancing with red highlights under the fluorescent harshness.
I had to stop staring at him if I was going to make it through the morning.
“Why are we here so early?”
“Workouts begin in an hour. I told Coach about our project. He said we could use the rink beforehand.”
“Wow, you have practice at six thirty in the morning?”
“We do.”
“Last weekend, I don’t think I got to sleep before four a.m. on Saturday morning.”
He stood up quickly and snapped his eyes at me at the same time.
“Were you at a party?” He sounded casual enough, and it only highlighted how quickly he had snapped to attention at my comment.
“Um, we went to The Valley. I met this guy.” I shrugged like it was no big deal, but all of a sudden, it felt like a very big deal.
“Oh,” he said quietly, looking away and heading to the door. “Come on. Let’s skate,” he muttered.
I watched his back as we followed another gray hallway toward the ice rink. His shoulders slumped, and he appeared hunched over. I couldn’t picture him walking down this hall on the way to a game with that posture. Awkward in my skates, I hurried to reach him, tapping him on the back as I waddled ahead of him.
“I didn’t … we didn’t hook up, but his buddy and my roommate did. I was stuck in the dorm common room chatting with the guy until his buddy … returned.”
“Oh,” Cam said again. It had been a throwaway line about being up late the weekend before, but as I took in Cam’s reaction, it seemed so much more significant. The guy and I probably could have fooled around, snuck into the bathroom to kill some time while Devon and his friend were busy, but as I thought about it while looking at Campbell, I realized I’d deflected the guy’s every move. I wasn’t sure I understood why, and I didn’t want to try to figure it out while I was staring at Cam’s expressive eyes.
I tried to lighten the mood. “Come on, Finn. Let me show you how it’s done.”
“I’m supposed to be showing you.” He laughed as he easily took the lead and entered the rink. There was a peaceful quiet to the empty arena, which wasn’t huge like I expected it to be. About twenty rows of benches circled the ice all around. I let my gaze travel around, taking in the advertising and accolades hanging on the walls and from the rafters. Two shirts were suspended from the ceiling, and I could see the names and numbers emblazoned on them from my vantage point.
I was staring at them but could sense when Campbell sat on a bench and began to take the safeties off his blades. I looked back to watch him watching me. He lifted a chin in the direction of the two jerseys that hung from the ceiling. “Only two HU players have gone pro. I’m hoping my jersey makes it up there.” He shrugged and tapped his knuckles on the bench.
I sat down next to him. “You really have it all figured out, don’t you? Plan A—hockey. Plan B—run a hockey program.”
“Hey, the rec center is more than just hockey! There’s a gym and indoor basketball court, a track, and tennis courts. We do summer camp and after-school programs! They’re even installing pickleball courts next year!”
I smiled at his enthusiasm and noted the pride in his voice when he talked about the center. I watched his eyes light up.
“The center sounds really special. Like you’d really love working there.”
He looked down when he responded.
“Oh, well, I try not to get too excited about hockey. I wouldn’t want to jinx it.” He formed a fist and knocked his knuckles on the bench again. “And the center really is special. I would be proud to be able to run the place one day.”
I shouldered him and jutted my chin toward the jerseys. “That’s the dream, though, right?”
“Absolutely,” he said softly, his knuckles brushing the bench once more. He shouldered me back and let it linger, his broad muscled arm touching mine, his head leaning close but due to our height difference, hovering above me. His face was soft, his eyes bright. It was a few beats before those expressive eyes went wide, and he got up quickly. He turned and was on his knees before me. I was confused for a second, but luckily, I was just able to suppress a moan when I realized that Campbell was just taking off my safeties.
He stood and held out a hand, offering for me to lead the way onto the ice. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Shelley.”
I took to the ice and started gliding around the rink, thinking about the Winter Festival that happens every January, and how I would go with my family when I was younger and friends as I got older, traveling in loops around the pond with them. I put my hands behind my back and circled around to find Campbell standing at the entrance to the ice, watching.
Skating backward, I commented, “Told you I could skate.”
He simply nodded and took me in. All of me. And I let him, skating backward for a few more beats, looking at him in understanding, without flinching or demurring or turning away. The intensity of his stare increased, and I loved having his eyes on me. It was clear I was wanted. He couldn’t hide it; maybe he wasn’t even trying. I turned as I got to the far side of the rink, but as I rounded the curve and was opposite him, I turned his way again. He hadn’t moved.
“Fuck it,” I mumbled to myself as I cut across the center of the ice until I was standing in front of him, inches apart. I looked right up into those dark-brown eyes, trying to interpret the conflicting emotions in his stare. Want for sure but also stress, maybe even anger.
Guess I was about to find out if he was angry at me.
“How’s my form, coach?” I crossed my arms in front of me like a petulant child but kept my tone light.
He tried for a crooked smile. “You can stay on your feet. I’m impressed. How come you don’t know anything about hockey?”
“Never been interested before.” I shrugged.
“Before?” I knew he had inched closer because you couldn’t do that smoothly standing on a concrete surface in skates.
“Before I met you.”
I didn’t have time to brace myself. He grabbed me by the waist with both hands, I slid and fell into him, but before I could face-plant into his chest, his lips met mine in a searing kiss. My hands were caught between us, and I ignored the dull zing of pain I felt when my braced hand hit his chest. His grip was firm as his mouth explored mine ferociously, almost desperately, as if he was seeking the answer to a question.
For my part, I answered yes, trying to do the calculus in my brain. I hooked up with guys all the time. Even closeted ones. Maybe I could hook up with this closeted guy. Maybe it would even be good for him to have the experience. I gently pushed away to look into his eyes. Had he found the answer he’d been seeking?
He sucked in a huge breath and looked at me in shock, his cheeks a crimson red.
“Cam?”
He cautiously took hold of my bad hand and ignored my questioning tone. “Did I hurt you?”
He gently flipped my hand over and stared at the brace, willfully keeping his eyes from me. Nonetheless, I could see the concern and confusion in his, and both emotions endeared me to him.
I stroked his jaw until his eyes met mine. “Hi.” I smiled.
“Hey,” he said back, but he could not match the contented look on my face.
“My hand is fine, Finn.” He gave me a serious nod and tried to look back down at it, but my functioning hand held him firm. “Have you ever kissed a guy before?”
He tried for a joke. “Was it that bad?”
“Cam.”
We stood, our eyes locked as I waited for him to decide what he wanted to confess. He looked so desperate, so in need of someone whom he could trust with his secret. I didn’t know why he’d chosen me; maybe it had simply been that spark of lust I was pretty sure he’d felt, too, but I was glad he had.
“No,” he finally said. His eyes blazed with a fire that he couldn’t hide, and it ignited one in me that I didn’t temper. I stretched up then to meet him and kissed him back with the same intensity he had shown. My arms now free, I wrapped them around his neck, my right hand encircled by my brace. He tightened his arms to wrap me in his embrace, and maybe it was that move that precipitated the change because all of a sudden, without a conscious choice on my part, I slowed down. The kiss was no longer pent-up, desperate desire, it was exploration and softness. I opened my mouth to him, and he slowly, but not tentatively, understood, sharing his tongue with me as we tangled and stroked, and the world faded until it was just two people, precariously balanced on ice skates, alone in their own universe. I wanted to stay in that world with him forever, and I was so lost in it that I didn’t even realize at the time what a monumental change that was for me.
The skates helped us keep the embrace PG as I didn’t risk moving my legs to get closer to him. It didn’t stop my dick from firming up in my sweatpants. I imagined his doing the same. The moment his tongue stroked mine, a moan emanated from me that echoed in the empty arena.
We kissed and kissed, and I felt oddly warm at the same time I knew I was getting cold, standing still for so long on the ice.
When the real world intruded on our moment, it was the sound of laughter echoing down the hall. Campbell jumped back and eyed my crotch, letting out a little moan of his own. All we had done was make out, and I was visibly hard in front of him. I didn’t dare look down at him, instead watching as his eyes went wide and the freak-out began. He glanced over my shoulder; I did too to find an old-fashioned clock on the wall.
“They’re early.”
“I’m gonna go,” I whispered though we were still alone, the voices far off down the hall. He acknowledged me with a nod as I walked behind him, brushing his arm for a second with my fingertips in acknowledgment. I was rewarded with that adorable, innocent, lopsided smile. “You all right?” I implored. He nodded but didn’t speak.
I sat on the bench and installed the safeties on my skates before waddling down the hall to the locker room to grab my stuff, passing Noah and two other guys on my way.
“Hey, guy from the party.”
“Hi, Noah.”
I kept walking before they could ask any questions.