Page 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Cody

“Motherfucking fuck balls!” I’m so over this brace. All I want to do is burn it, run it through the garbage disposal, and then burn it again. Half the counter and some of the floor are smeared in peach yogurt, along with the front of my sweats, and the nauseatingly sweet smell fills the kitchen. As much as I love yogurt, I prefer it in a bowl, and this is not the first time that I’ve had a post-op kitchen incident, as Luke calls them.

“You good, baby?” Luke yells from the bathroom. I can’t help smiling. He’s shaving. For me. Well, I more or less forced him to. As much as I found his post-op lumberjack look cute, I want my smooth, baby-faced boyfriend back. So, since the season’s now over and Luke is all mine, I sent my man shaving. My man.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I shout back, limping towards the cabinets above the counter to find a cloth. Shit, I have a boyfriend. Most days, I still need to pinch myself. I have a boyfriend. And not just any boyfriend. I have Luke. The most amazingly caring and selfless guy ever. And if we take my stupid knee and my rollercoaster mood out of the equation, everything is just so goddamn easy. So effortless between us. He gets me and he’s so unbelievably open and honest with me. Because he knows I need it. That I need to know what he thinks and how he feels—because otherwise, I’ll just make shit up in my mind. Like that it won’t last. That I’m not worth it. That he’ll realize he wants a sexual relationship after all. That he can do better. So much better. Because he’s Luke fucking Carrington and I’m just… me.

‘Time to shut it down,’ he whispers against my forehead every night when we lie next to each other, and the room is dark and quiet. The quiet is my sworn enemy. Always has been. Because when it’s quiet, that voice in my head that I dread so much grows louder. For a while, it seemed to be less insistent. Luke’s love for me made it less insistent. But the injury has made it show its ugly head again, trying to pull me back over to the dark side where I’ll always be a fuckup and alone.

‘Goodnight, brain,’ he chuckled against my neck last night when I’d had a particularly bad day imagining all kinds of apocalyptic scenarios that all amounted to Luke leaving my sorry ass and the team booting me . ‘Time to leave Cody alone and give him some peace.’

‘What are you doing?’ I asked him not so long ago when he started this pre-bed ritual.

‘Just tucking in your brain, telling it to shut up and leave my baby alone,’ he whispered. My baby.

“Let me do that,” his deep voice engulfs me as he reaches out and takes the cloth from my hand. I’m balancing on one leg trying to wipe at the floor, just making it worse, yogurt all over the place. On my T-shirt now, too. Or rather Luke’s T-shirt. We pretty much just have one wardrobe at this point, sharing clothes randomly .

‘You’re so fucking hot in my clothes, baby,’ Luke hummed against my ear a couple of weeks ago when I was wearing his jersey to the game. ‘You look so fiiine with my number on you. You look like mine.’ I always wear his jersey to all our home games now. He went fucking wild the first time I wore it to a game after the surgery. ‘Fuck yes, baby, let the world know that you’re mine!’ I swear he was one step away from pounding at his chest in full-blown caveman style.

‘Do you want to let the world know that I’m yours?’ I murmured, my fists clenching his hoodie so firmly; like I was afraid that he was a mere dream and that any minute I would wake up.

‘Always,’ he whispered back. ‘I’m ready. I’m just waiting for you.’ Waiting for you. I nearly exploded with adoration right there in the hallway as we were getting ready to leave. If it weren’t for my knee, I would’ve dropped to said knees right then and there between empty Gatorade bottles and muddy sneakers and wept at his feet. And then the words slipped from my lips, Luke’s loyalty and bravery making me brave, too.

‘If someone asks me, I won’t lie. I won’t ever lie about what we are to each other. If anyone’s not ready for us, they better catch up fast, because this,’ I waved my hand between us, ‘is for real.’ And then Luke was the one who looked like he was ready to fall to his knees and weep at my feet—or maybe just throw me over his shoulder and carry me back to bed and deal with Coach’s wrath later. Much later. And now, as of last night, we’re… out . Yeah, we’re out. It all happened in the blink of an eye after the game, and my head is still spinning.

“Thanks.” I lean in and brush my lips against his, breathing him in. His cheeks and chin are all smooth now, the faint smell of shaving cream hanging on his skin. “Hmmm,” I hum, licking at his chin, causing Luke to squirm deliciously. I love the effect that I have on him. He positively melts into a pool of goo whenever I touch or kiss him. Hell, sometimes a mere look is enough to get him all swoony and pliant. I never thought I could matter so much to anyone. So much so that their smile grows bigger and their eyes brighter when I enter a room.

“You like it?” he gasps as I add my teeth, nibbling at his chin.

“Oh, I like it,” I purr, taking the cloth from his hands and pushing him against the kitchen island. It’s still hard to maneuver around sometimes, but where there’s a will there’s a way, right? “I really like it,” I smirk, placing my hands on the counter on each side of him, boxing him in, keeping him tethered against me.

“What’s gotten into you this morning, baby?” Luke laughs until his voice spills over in a clipped moan. “Shit, baby, do that again,” he begs when I tug at his earlobe with my teeth.

“Just you,” I murmur against his ear. “Just your smooth skin and your flushed baby blush,” I hum. And it’s true. It’s just him. Just Luke. He turns me inside out in the best of ways with his mere presence. With his wavy, dark brown hair and his smoldering chocolate eyes, he rocks my world. But the biggest turn-on? We can live and love out loud now.

“Shit, Mitchell. If I’d known I’d get this kinda morning welcome, I’d have shaved much sooner,” he whispers beneath my touch. Shit, I love when he calls me Mitchell. It sounds so playful. So… carefree. He seems to sober a little. “Let me just clean this mess up,” he rasps, and I just love that small proof of how I turn him inside out, too.

Reluctantly, I let him go, and Luke quickly cleans up the counter and then the floor. Then he pours us both a bowl of yogurt, placing them on the island. Jumping on a stool, he smiles at me, his rosy cheeks glistening with moisturizer. Taking my hand, he tugs me towards him, arranging me between his spread thighs, wrapping his solid arms around my neck.

“You thought more about what we talked about last night?” he asks tentatively, his eyes coasting across my face.

“I have,” I croak, hiding my face in Luke’s chest, letting his clean scent engulf me.

“And?” he laughs into my hair, his fingers playing with the longer strands at the back of my neck, twirling them around his fingers.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I just don’t know, Luke.” My fists clench around the sides of his T-shirt and I cling to him like he’s the very anchor keeping me from spinning out of control.

“Why not, baby?” he coos, pressing soft kisses against the top of my head. “Why are you afraid? You know that no matter what happens, I’m here. Nothing is ever going to change that. I’m here .” I nod against his chest because I know. I know that he’s here and that he always will be. Still, I’m afraid. Afraid of opening Pandora’s box. Afraid of what’s in it.

“I’m afraid that they won’t want me,” I blurt. “That they’ve forgotten about me.” Shit, last night, after the initial shock of being out had settled, Luke told me another thing that rattled my world; he’d been playing detective aside from boyfriend extraordinaire and professional hockey player. He’s joined forces with Lilly and Elly, and they’ve managed to find Danny’s Instagram profile. And my dad’s Facebook.

“They will and they haven’t,” Luke speaks against my temple. “Of course, they’ll want you, baby. Who wouldn’t?” Who wouldn’t? It sounds so logical when he puts it like that. Like there’s no doubt in his mind whatsoever that they’ve been missing me and thinking of me all this time. Just like I have them.

“Okay,” I nod against his solid chest. “Yeah, okay, maybe it’s time.” Apparently, this is the new me, breaking all my rules and facing all my fears. I might as well ride on the wave of courage that I jumped on last night and let the momentum carry me wherever it takes me.

“Yeah?” Luke holds me out in front of him, his face beaming with happiness and… pride. “Really, baby?” I swallow as a few tears spill from my eyes.

“Yeah,” I repeat, nodding furiously, the tears falling freely now.

“Shit, baby,” he smiles. “I’m so proud of you. So fucking proud!” And I see it written all over his face. It’s true. And I believe it. When it’s Luke telling me, I believe it. I’m so grateful I went to see Victor that day. He challenged all my rules and stupid fears. That he challenged me to trust Luke. Because trusting him is what’s starting to set me free.

“It’s time,” I say, my voice drowning in the shrill ringing tone from my phone. Picking it up from the island, I already know that it’s my mom. She’s calling me every day and mostly I ignore her. Her threat that she was done with me didn’t last long. Holding up the phone between us, I sigh. “Maybe it’s time for something else too,” I say as I answer the call. Luke’s face transforms in front of me, his cheeks pinking, his eyes nearly black. My mom is still at the top of his shit list. He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t need to.

“Mom,” I say, my voice neutral as I brace myself for what’s coming. For what I know is coming.

“Are you out of your darn mind, Cody? What on God’s green earth was that stunt you and that… that… whatever pulled last night?” That whatever is, of course, Luke. Yeah, my mom continues to play her favorite game: ignore reality and it’ll go away. But Luke isn’t going anywhere. “You really think that was a smart move, honey?” The endearment makes me wince and Luke pulls me closer, a streak of protectiveness washing over his face. “Have I taught you NOTHING?!” Her penetrating voice grows in volume as she continues to rile herself up. I hold my phone away from my ear, taking a deep breath.

“Mom—”

“You know you’re ruined now? Right? Not just because of your knee, but after last—”

“Mom, will yo—”

“I bet it was his idea, wasn’t it? For you to wear his jersey like a darn trophy wife. All to boost up his ego. Heck, next he’ll want you to just quit and sit with the other WAGs. I just—”

“Mom, will you just shut up for a second and listen?” I yell into the phone, my chest heaving with… with anger. The audacity of that woman who calls herself my mother.

“Don’t you talk to your mother like that, Cody Alexander Mitchell! Have you seen the media this morning? Have you even thought for one—”

“Shut up, Mom!” I boom. “Or I’m gonna hang up right now!” I’m trembling and if it weren’t for Luke’s steady hands on me and his solid chest against me, I’m sure I would fall apart. But I don’t. Because there’s no reason to. Because I have, in fact, seen the media this morning. And last night, too, after a reporter from ESPN caught me after the game wearing Luke’s jersey. We’d already discussed it with the team management after we came out to Coach. That there would be no official coming-out show. That it was going to happen organically and in our own time. Or the press’s time, I guess. So… I guess last night just felt like the right time considering my ‘I won’t lie about us’ statement.

‘Cody Mitchell, I’m sure our viewers would like to know how your knee is doing one-month post-surgery.’

‘It’s going really well. Thank you, Cathy. I have the best team around me, and everything is going according to plan.’

‘Does that mean we can expect you back on the ice soon?’

‘Yeah, not yet. Hopefully, I can start practice with the team after the break, but we’ll just have to see.’ At that point, Luke came up beside me, post-game and post-victory excitement written all over his face. ‘You know you can’t force stuff like this,’ I continued, and Cathy Garfield, hockey specialist for ESPN for over twenty years, nodded solemnly before she turned towards Luke.

‘Luke Carrington, congratulations on ending the season with a win and a goal. How does it feel?’

‘It feels really good, ma’am. Really darn good,’ Luke beamed, sweat residue beading across his forehead, his breath warm and moist as it wafted along my chin.

‘Aurora won’t be making it to the playoffs. Is that a disappointment?’

‘Well, I’d be lying if I said we wouldn’t love to go, but next year will definitely be ours. I think we can all be proud that we’ve managed to turn the season around and leave our mark.’ Cathy nodded in agreement before looking briefly at me.

‘And it hasn’t gone unnoticed by your fans that you have a super fan cheering for you, wearing your jersey.’ It’s true. It hasn’t gone unnoticed and there’s been quite some speculation as to why. The consensus among the fans, however, has been that we are roomies and team besties. ‘Cody, how come you’re wearing Luke’s jersey? Is he your favorite player on the team?’

‘He is,’ I said, my voice shaking just a tad, Luke’s calming presence next to me. ‘My favorite. And…’ I started, searching Luke’s eyes, finding no trace of doubt or concern in them. Just sheer and utter happiness. And love. So much fucking love that I’m sure Cathy could tell too. That she was close to the scoop of the year if not more. She was practically salivating, her eyes glued to my lips, hanging on to every word. ‘And… because he’s my boyfriend,’ I added.

And that was it. Five inconspicuous words and two kids, one from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and one from Black River, Utah, made hockey history. And while Cathy nearly dropped her microphone and Virtanen yelled, ‘Yo, Mitchell, give Daddy some sugar’ down the hallway, the internet blew up. It blew the fuck up. And aside from the usual suspects crawling out of their caves, spewing all sorts of ridiculous nonsense about Adam and Eve, the reaction was overwhelmingly supportive. Our fans flipped out, posting their favorite pics of Luke and me, along with rainbow emojis and #loveislove. They freaked out in the best possible way. Much like my mom is freaking out right now, but for entirely different reasons.

“You’re gonna regret this, Cody,” she hisses. “And then you’re gonna come crawling back.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, Mom,” I sigh, filling my lungs with air, Luke wrapping his arm around my shoulder. Shit, here goes nothing. “I know you lied to me. All those years ago. About Dad.” There’s a gasp on the other end, but she doesn’t deny it. “I’ve found him. And Danny. Or, rather, Luke has. And I’m gonna reach out to them. It’s long overdue. It’s time.”

“That is just ridiculous!” Mom shouts. “To claim that I lied. Me! A God-fearing woman. I haven’t lied once in my life!” Her voice is growing increasingly ugly, nasty, and not really what you would expect from a so-called God-fearing woman. “He doesn’t want you! He never wanted you. He—”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Mom. I’m done listening to all your bullshit lies. And…” I brace myself for the next part, Luke giving me an encouraging nod. And I know I can face anything with him beside me. “And until you’re ready to tell me the truth about what happened back then, I don’t want you in my life. I don’t. I’m done with your manipulation and your lies. Tell me the truth, Mom, or lose my number.”

“Baby, you don’t mean that,” she says, an edge of desperation in her voice when she probably realizes that I’m serious. “Besides, I’m your manager, remember? You need me. You’ve always needed me.” What Mom doesn’t know is that I already anticipated her reaction to me coming out. When she checks her email later today, she’ll find a notice from my new manager, provided by the team, that he’ll be taking over as per my request. So, yeah, I don’t need her. That’s what she doesn’t get and what she’ll probably never get. That I only ever needed her to be my mom and to love me unconditionally and she’s failed miserably at both.

“I do, Mom. I do. I mean it. And the sooner you accept it, the better for both of us. Bye, Mom.” I hang up, my body shivering with excess adrenaline, the bye, Mom echoing in my head. Luke takes the phone from my clammy hands, placing it on the island. And then I collapse. I fucking collapse, Luke catching me before I hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. Always catching me. Always there. Always mine.