Page 12

Chapter 12

“You look like . . .” Ramsey trailed off, shooting Finn a sideways glance as they walked across the quad towards the library.

Finn told himself not to blush.

“Like what?” Finn asked, but he was afraid he knew. Ramsey had a sixth sense about these kinds of things, and he’d probably already guessed what he’d been up to the night before—even though he’d taken a shower at Jacob’s house and borrowed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from his closet before he’d dropped him at the college.

When he’d looked in the mirror this morning, he’d told himself that he didn’t look any different.

But maybe he’d just been lying to himself.

“Like you had a really, really good night,” Ramsey teased.

Finn made a face. “How can you even tell that?”

“It’s a special gift.”

“Special gift my ass,” Finn retorted.

“Oh, so you do want to talk about your ass?” Ramsey raised an eyebrow. “Did it get a lot of action last night? Who am I kidding, though? Some action would be a lot for you, at least recently. I haven’t seen you at a Gamma Sigma party in ages.”

“This is why people get annoyed at you,” Finn grumbled as he pulled the library door open.

“Because I know everything?”

“Because you think you know everything.” Finn lowered his voice as they walked through the stacks, towards their favorite table they liked to study at.

Well, that Finn liked to study at. Ramsey usually just sat there, doom scrolling through Instagram and attempting to show him every progressively more stupid video he could find on TikTok.

Whenever Finn tried to remind him that he should at least pretend to study, Ramsey always said that was him studying.

Finn didn’t really think that the Communications department only cared about social media these days, but arguing with Ramsey was usually pointless, because he never lost.

“It’s true, I do think I know everything,” Ramsey said, settling down in his usual spot, pulling out his phone. “For example, I know you spent last night with Jacob. What I don’t know is why you’re trying to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—”

Ramsey shook his head decisively. “Don’t even try to lie to me.”

“I wasn’t,” Finn said, annoyed now. He’d been in such a good mood all morning—how could he not be? Last night had been freaking incredible, everything he’d hoped it might be and so much more. And then this morning, Jacob had brought him coffee in bed, and then in the shower . . .well, for the first time in weeks, he hadn’t had to just think about Jacob as he got himself off. He’d gotten an in-person assist.

But now, with Ramsey pushing him to confess everything, the realities of the situation were beginning to intrude.

“Sure,” Ramsey said knowingly.

First, he was going to have to tell Ramsey—clearly, that was a non-negotiable—and then it would be the other guys. They’d be supportive. Surprised, probably, but supportive.

Eventually, they’d have to tell the one person that Finn really didn’t want to tell. Jacob was right: they had no choice if they wanted to actually commit to this relationship.

Jacob was right about something else too. It was going to really fucking suck to do it. Finn could already imagine Morgan’s betrayed expression.

Especially when Finn confessed that it wasn’t just a passing thing, or a sex thing, it was a feelings thing. That Jacob wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

That thought filled Finn with happiness. Okay—it filled him with 95% happiness and 5% terror.

“You’re staring at that screen like it holds the mysteries of the universe. Or maybe just the mysteries of Jacob Braun’s dick.”

Finn shot his friend a look. “Who says there’s any mysteries in Jacob Braun’s dick?”

“You’d know,” Ramsey said.

And goddamn it, he’d walked right into that one.

Finn set his elbows on the table and whisper-yelled, “How did you even know?”

“It’s not that complicated, actually,” Ramsey said smugly.

“Well, tell the rest of us so we’re in on the joke,” Finn muttered.

“First off, you totally have a hickey under your hairline, right by your ear.” Finn’s fingers flew up to it, where Jacob had lazily kissed him in the shower this morning. Maybe it had been too soon for the mark to develop before he’d left Jacob’s house, but now everyone could see it, like a big scarlet J. Ramsey shot him another one of those infuriatingly smug looks. “And since you’ve brushed off even a suggestion of a hookup lately, I guessed it would have to be Jacob, because clearly, he’s the only one you’re interested in kissing. Next up, your shoulders are relaxed.”

“I was relaxed before.”

“No, you were tense as hell. A good night of sex and your shoulders smooth out just there . . .” Ramsey reached over and ran his fingers up his shoulders. “See? Relaxed.”

“Fine. Okay.” Finn gave his friend a sharp nod.

“But mostly, more than anything else, I was walking out of Hood this morning and saw Jacob drop you off. And when he did, you leaned in and kissed him. Wasn’t a quick kiss either. Seemed serious.”

It seems serious , Finn wanted to tell him, and it seemed like the best idea in the world last night but now I’m . . .panicking. Just a little. And mostly, almost entirely, because of this whole interrogation.

“That explains it, then,” Finn said, then logged into his laptop and started on his assigned reading, enjoying as Ramsey squirmed, for the first time today.

He let him go for five minutes and then ten, pretending to ignore as Ramsey shot him look after look, eyes flicking up from his phone every so often.

Finally, Ramsey gave in and tossed the phone onto the desk. “Are you really not going to tell me about it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Finn said, barely able to keep the grin off his face.

“You know what I mean,” Ramsey hissed. “You’re not going to tell me how you finally got him— Jacob freaking Braun— into bed and you’re not going to tell me if it’s actually serious? Was last night not the first time, because it sure seemed like the first time, but maybe I’m wrong, that does happen sometimes—”

Finn took pity on his friend, for whom rambling definitely did not come naturally. “You were right. It was the first time.”

“I knew it,” Ramsey announced triumphantly only to be shushed by two adjoining tables.

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” Finn said.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Did I ever tell you about the last time I got kicked out of the library—”

It wasn’t even a contest; it would be way worse to hear all the details of Ramsey’s last conquest—in the library no less—than to confess the truth of last night.

“I thought you wanted to hear about me and Jacob,” Finn interrupted.

Ramsey’s eyes gleamed as he leaned across the table. “Well, tell me then.”

“We went to dinner.”

“Like a date?” Ramsey looked horrified, then remembered, probably just in time, that Finn wasn’t him, and wasn’t allergic to commitment. Oh you’ve got no idea , Finn thought.

“No, not a date. A dinner meeting, with his agent and his PR rep. He’s . . .uh . . .starting a foundation.”

“And he has to come out first,” Ramsey finished before Finn could decide just how much he should say about Jacob’s future plans. “Because it’s a LGBT-leaning organization, and he doesn’t want more people speculating on his sexuality than talking about the charity work he’s trying to do.”

“How do you know that?” Finn asked, mystified. “Were you masquerading as one of the waiters last night or something?”

“My major is Communications,” Ramsey said pointedly, like he actually did fuck all with his major.

“Anyway, yes, good guess. I was there because Jacob wanted my take on their plans.”

Ramsey nodded in approval. “Damn. I would’ve thought he wasn’t that good. But he pulled it off.”

“That is why he invited me.”

“Sure,” Ramsey said easily. “Not just because he’s crazy about you.”

“ Anyway , yes, he invited me. I wore the Burberry suit—”

“Wait, you pulled out the Burberry for Jacob? You must’ve been pretty fucking desperate to go for the big guns. Was he really putting up that much of a fight?”

“Yes and no,” Finn said, attempting to find his dignity. It shouldn’t be humiliating to admit to Ramsey he’d gone to dinner intending to seduce Jacob, especially when it had worked. After all, he’d done it, he should own it.

“Oh, he was,” Ramsey said annoyingly. “But you got him in the end, didn’t you? God bless that suit. I wish my dad would buy me a custom Burberry suit that makes men forget their own names.”

To hear Ramsey talk, he did have a dad who might behave just like Morgan Reynolds did, but Finn knew not only did he not have a dad like Morgan, Ramsey didn’t have any dad at all.

But Ramsey was always casual and easy about it, like it was no big deal.

More than once, Finn had wondered what was really going on in Ramsey’s head, behind all those walls and all the interference he was constantly running.

“You do pretty okay on your own, without a Burberry suit,” Finn reminded him.

“True.” Ramsey grinned. “So it worked.”

“It worked. But it wasn’t just the suit.”

“Of course not,” Ramsey said, but it was clear he didn’t believe that for a second.

Finn was going to have to tell him all of it.

“So you were right about the coming out thing. It’s not just for the foundation he’s starting, but also because he just wants to, and because he wants to not worry about being public with his relationships. With . . . any relationship.”

“He was coming out so he could get a boyfriend. Good for him.” Ramsey paused. “Wait. Wait . He wanted— wants— you didn’t tell him you’d date him, did you? Because your dad is going to lose his fucking mind.”

“Probably,” Finn said, which sounded more optimistic than he felt.

There was no probably about it. Morgan would absolutely, no questions asked, lose his shit when Finn—and Jacob, because there was no way he’d let Finn do it alone—told him the truth.

“You didn’t tell him you’d be with him just to get him into bed, did you?” Ramsey actually looked concerned now.

“No. No .” Finn squirmed in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Before Jacob, he and Ramsey had shared details and notes about their hookups fairly frequently. Well, he’d shared and Ramsey had over shared , but the point remained. And no, he’d never really been particularly interested in more, before, but that was before .

With Jacob, everything was different.

“So you what . . .you like him?” Ramsey looked shocked for the first time, like this was the one development he hadn’t been able to guess or predict.

“I do. I do like him. A lot, actually,” Finn admitted, and the moment it was out of his mouth, that part of him currently panicking settled.

He did like Jacob. So much. Was the sex fantastic? It definitely was. But it was about more than that, for Jacob, and for Finn, too.

“Huh.”

“Don’t look so confused, you know what that is.”

“Not what it feels like, though,” Ramsey admitted.

“You will, someday,” Finn promised.

Ramsey shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. So you’re like . . .that into him, then?”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s mutual?”

“Seems to be. That was what was holding him back, actually. Because he’s had hookups while he was in the closet, playing hockey, and he was done with that. And I wonder if . . .” Finn hesitated. “I wonder if it was more than that.”

Ramsey shared a conspiratorial smile. “I bet it was. God, you wore your Burberry for him. The moment you told me that, I should’ve known it was serious.”

“I thought it looked serious this morning, when we were kissing goodbye.”

“Well, there’s that too. Then there was the way he watched you walk away.”

“What are you talking about? What way did he look at me?” Finn was suddenly painfully, horribly curious.

“I’m not telling you,” Ramsey said primly. “That’s for him to tell you. But yeah, he’s serious.”

“Then why did you ask me?” Finn asked, a little outraged.

“I wanted to know what you thought of how he felt,” Ramsey said.

Because of course he did. Finn rolled his eyes. “You feel properly informed now?”

“Well, partially. You still didn’t tell me about the sex. Or is that off-limits now that you’re all about the feelings?”

“I . . .” Finn told himself not to turn bright red. He didn’t normally. But every time he even thought about how good last night had been . . .he got hot all over. “It was really good.”

“That’s all I’m gonna get? You blushing like a virgin and being annoyingly vague?”

“I’m not going to ask what you want because I already know you’d be into every dirty detail,” Finn retorted.

“At least I’m gonna get that there are dirty details. He looks like he’d be good in bed. Hard, but soft, you know?” Ramsey grinned.

Finn didn’t know how Ramsey always guessed. It was some kind of superpower.

“Don’t tell me I’m exactly right because you look like you’re thinking about it again. So I must’ve been. Hard but soft, huh? Did he make you scream? Fuck you into the mattress so good you cried or did you take it into your own hands—”

“Enough,” Finn said, laughing. “More the former than the latter, but I don’t have any doubt that if I wanted to take control, he’d have given it up, gladly. He’s . . .well, he’s really generous. And gorgeous.”

“Could’ve told you that,” Ramsey said.

“Yes, thank you. There’s a reason I had a massive boner for the guy,” Finn said.

“Should’ve known that you’d go for the most impossible guy you could find,” Ramsey said, shaking his head. “You figured out how you’re gonna tell Morgan yet?”

“God, Ramsey, it just happened. We’re still working things out.”

“He’s going to find out,” Ramsey warned. “And if he finds out before you decide to tell him . . .”

Ramsey didn’t need to elaborate how that would go. Finn already had a damn good idea.

“I don’t know why he’d find out. We’re definitely not going to tell him until we’re ready. And I know you’re not going to tell him.”

“Of course not,” Ramsey said.

“There you go. We have some time . . .to . . .uh . . .figure out how this works.”

Ramsey raised a blond eyebrow. “What’s there to figure out?”

“I know you’re new to this relationship thing, but it’s not perfect from the beginning. It takes work. Adjustment. And if we’re going to invite my dad’s wrath, we’d want to be . . .”

“Sure,” Ramsey finished for him. “You’d want to be sure that you’re completely, madly in love.”

“Uh, yes, that,” Finn said, feeling a bit of that earlier panic return again.

“See? I’m not that fucking clueless,” Ramsey said cheerfully. “When you think you’re at that point, give me a heads-up, because it’s probably going to take both of us to figure out if you actually are.”

Finn wanted to tell him he was wrong and also full of shit, but Finn didn’t know what that felt like. Not that Ramsey did either, but maybe if they did put their heads together, they could come up with an answer.

“Or,” Ramsey continued, tilting his head, “you could ask Jacob.”

“That’s not happening,” Finn said.

His phone dinged, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

“Ooooh, is that Jacob?” Ramsey said, craning his neck so he could read the screen. Finn tilted it towards himself so Ramsey couldn’t.

“Yeah,” Finn said.

You wanna come over tonight? We could work .

Finn grinned.

On what? How good you fuck me into the mattress?

He could practically see the flush rising up Jacob’s newly bare cheeks and also the incredulous look he shot the phone. No, Jacob sent back. Hockey. You know that game you play that you’d like to get better at.

Thought I already was, Finn texted back.

You’re fucking amazing, but there’s no reason you can’t be even better , Jacob replied.

“See,” Ramsey inserted. “I actually don’t think we do need to consult, ’cause the way you’re gazing at that phone—like maybe Jacob’s dick does hold all the mysteries of the universe . . .”

“Don’t,” Finn warned, but he was smiling, still.

Couldn’t stop, in fact.

And maybe that answered everything for him, already.

“Good” Jacob said as Finn batted the last puck away from the net. He’d not let a single shot through, and his curls were damp with sweat. “Now, again.”

Finn laughed breathlessly as he leaned down and grabbed his water bottle. “You’re kind of an asshole, you know?”

“You thought I was gonna take it easy on you now?” Jacob asked the question even though he knew Finn wouldn’t have ever believed that. In fact, he probably knew the truth: Jacob was more motivated than ever to give Finn the best chance at success.

“No,” Finn said, still laughing as he straightened and skated over to where Jacob was gathering the pucks back into the machine for his second attempt. He put a hand on Jacob’s shoulder and leaned in.

“There you go,” Jacob said, leaning back. It was just a simple touch, but it felt like everything.

Other than their brief kiss hello—which Jacob had lectured himself ahead of time would be brief no matter how much he wanted to kiss Finn and keep kissing him—they’d mostly kept things professional.

Mostly.

If his hand had slipped down to Finn’s lower back and then even lower still as he’d been guiding him through a particular stretch, he was only human. Finn’s ass in those thin gray sweatpants was a work of fucking art. And it wasn’t like Finn had exactly been disappointed. He’d shot him a knowing look that promised that he’d be happy to return the favor later.

“I think I deserve a rest—”

“Do you?” Jacob questioned innocently.

“And,” Finn continued, batting his eyes at Jacob, “I think that you should show me how it’s done.”

“You think so, huh?”

“If your hip can handle it anyway.” Finn’s voice went serious and Jacob knew that he hadn’t brought up his bum hip as a way to prod him into doing it.

“My hip’s fine.” It was. He’d made sure to stretch it out this morning. Carefully. Deliberately. It hadn’t hurt at all the night before even though he had been using it very enthusiastically, but it never hurt to be careful.

“Well, if it isn’t bothering you then, yes, you should show me exactly how it’s done.”

Jacob finished loading the pucks back in. “Alright,” he said. “If you think it’ll help your motivation.” He walked over to the bench and toed his sneakers off, leaning over to lace up his in-line skates.

“Not really my motivation,” Finn said, then hesitated.

“No?”

“It actually helps me to see how you move. How you prepare for each shot,” Finn said. “Might’ve watched about a thousand hours of YouTube footage. You, and a bunch of other goalies. But you were always my favorite.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Jacob said dryly. He straightened and pulled off his sweatshirt and then his T-shirt.

Finn grinned. “Yeah, can’t imagine why. Though I might’ve had a little—or a big—crush on Thatcher Demko, too.”

“Guess I should be relieved he’s married.” Jacob was not jealous; he was not jealous. So what if Thatcher Demko was six years younger than him? He was still not jealous.

At the height of his NHL career, he could’ve held his own against Demko or Fleury or anyone .

After all, there was a reason Morgan had been so pissed off at him. Because he was good .

“You don’t have anything to worry about.” Finn put a hand on his chest, curling his fingertips into his skin, and gazed up at Jacob’s face with the kind of worshipful affection that before last night had thrilled and worried him.

Now, after last night, he could tell himself: there could be worse people for Finn to admire.

“I wasn’t worried. ” But he’d been something. He knew it. It seemed almost too good to be true that this young, hot guy with an incredible future laid out in front of him was interested in Jacob.

Moira would tell him that this worry stemmed directly from the false assumption that retirement meant your life was over, not that it was just beginning.

He knew, because she’d literally just said those exact same goddamn words this afternoon, during their Zoom session.

“Sure,” Finn teased. “Kinda sounded like you were. Doing this for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already convinced I’m gonna go running after Thatcher Demko.”

“I think I’m safe, at least for now.” Jacob shook off the worry and shot Finn a look full of the confidence that still existed inside him. It might be diminished, but it still existed. “Time for me to show you how it’s done.”

Finn grinned with delight. “You know watching you do this last time was the best jerkoff material I’d had for months. Maybe even years .”

Jacob, more at home on skates than on his feet, nearly tripped. “Are you serious?”

Finn shot him a look full of heat. “Are you kidding? You’re so hot and so good and so . . . ugh .”

“What you’re really saying is hockey porn is a thing,” Jacob said, recovering and picking up his stick. Testing it in his grip.

“Uh, yeah .”

“So really, this is doing it for you in all kinds of ways.” Jacob discovered he liked that. He really fucking liked that.

“Yep,” Finn said with a nod. He positioned himself behind the puck machine as Jacob took his own position in the net.

He did one last stretch and then nodded at Finn.

This exercise wasn’t ever easy— Jacob did it because it was hard, because it pushed him, mentally and physically, to the edges of his limits. But somehow, knowing how Finn felt about it, how much he enjoyed watching and how much he got out of watching, it felt a little easier than normal.

Easy enough that he was actually able to point out some of his thought processes to Finn, who nodded at each comment with a serious expression and eyes full of heat.

It shouldn’t have been both.

But it was, and Jacob fucking ate it up, moving better now than he felt like he’d moved in ages.

“Damn,” Finn said when he deflected the last shot. “That was . . .just damn . The hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jacob had worried when the last puck was gone, he’d feel it. And he did, the burn in his muscles, the way he’d pushed them pushing back, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d expected.

His doctor had said that with time he’d recover some maneuverability in the joint. That he might be able to stave off a hip replacement for another few years if he continued to keep himself active and in shape.

Probably Dr. Chandler hadn’t meant this kind of activity or the other kind of activity he’d very enthusiastically participated in last night, but in the end it didn’t matter if it was jogging or weight lifting or fucking.

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. He caught the water bottle Finn tossed him. Downed half of it.

“You sure you’re retired?” Finn’s gaze glowed with truth. He wasn’t just sucking up, trying to get Jacob into bed—after all, Jacob had already established he was a sure thing—he meant it. Every single damn word.

“Could go out there tomorrow,” Finn continued, gazing up at Jacob. “You know that right?”

“Yes and no,” Jacob admitted.

Finn frowned.

“Today’s a good day. They wouldn’t all be good days, and I never wanted . . .I wanted, I needed to go out on top. That mattered to me.”

Finn’s frown morphed into understanding. “I get it,” he said. “Still, damn . You move so good I wanna . . .”

Jacob picked up his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his face. “You wanna go again?”

“Do this instead,” Finn said and one second he was by the puck machine and the next he was pushing Jacob into the bench, his cock burning a hard, hot line into the crease of Jacob’s thigh.

He kissed him then, lush and sweet, tongue sweeping into Jacob’s mouth.

Jacob dug a hand into Finn’s damp curls and held on as Finn tried to wash them both away with the intensity of his passion.

“God,” Finn murmured as he finally drew back, “I want you. I wanted you before—I’d probably have to be dead not to want you—but that was . . .that was the damn sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Sexier than Thatcher Demko’s YouTube highlights?” Jacob shouldn’t have asked it, but Finn’s eyes lit up.

“You’re perfect,” Finn said, “but even better than that, you’re mine .”

Jacob groaned as Finn’s mouth found his neck and then coasted lower, skating over his collarbone, leaving a mark there.

Finn probably had no idea how utterly and completely Jacob was his, and that was okay. There was no rush. They had plenty of time to explore this thing between them. Well, probably not plenty of time, but some time, anyway.

Enough time.

Moira had also said that he needed to find things that he enjoyed and actually enjoy them, and he couldn’t believe that she’d meant sex with Finn, but as he reached over, palming Finn’s cock through his loose shorts, he decided following the spirit of the advice counted.

Finn lifted his head, taking Jacob’s mouth again, and groaned as Jacob pushed down his shorts and then his underwear, closing his fist around Finn’s length. He was damp with sweat and wet with precome at the tip, and Jacob’s hand slid along the length of his cock, stroking him.

“Guaranteeing this moment is gonna be in the spank bank forever?” Finn wondered breathlessly.

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Jacob said. Couldn’t help his own moan as Finn tucked his hand underneath the waistband of his shorts.

“Yeah,” Finn said and kissed him harder.

It was not going to take very long. Jacob hadn’t even realized how aroused he was until Finn had looked at him like that and then said, damn that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen .

But he was, blood racing and the smell and the taste of Finn all around him, the feel of him in his hand, twitching with his own arousal. Everything was a feedback loop that pressed him closer and closer to the edge until Finn trembled and tipped over, taking Jacob with him.

Jacob cleaned up as best he could with his T-shirt, passing it to Finn when he was done, who’d slid, bonelessly, to the floor at his feet.

“Well, I’m glad about one thing,” Jacob said.

“Just one thing?” Finn leaned back, resting his head against his knee.

“Okay, many things, but right now, one thing, really. That I already did my round, and you still have one left.”

“Ugh, really?” Finn complained. “I’m all relaxed and shit now.”

“It’s good to work hard in all your moods. Learn how to push yourself back into that mindset,” Jacob said mildly.

“I was right,” Finn grumbled. “You are an asshole.”

“An asshole who just gave you a really good orgasm though?” Jacob chuckled.

“Is that a question or a statement?” With a grunt, Finn lifted himself to his feet. Rolled his shoulders.

Was it a question or a statement?

One of his first coaches, way back when he’d been a preteen, had told him that if he was going to do something, he might as well do it with confidence.

Like Moira’s advice earlier, Jacob was one-hundred-percent sure that Coach Nicholas had not meant sex, but if the advice fit, he couldn’t see why it didn’t apply just as well.

“A statement. But regardless, I can definitely do better than a sweaty handjob,” Jacob said.

Finn glanced back, interest lighting up his gaze. “Is that a promise?”

“It’s a reward,” Jacob said, gesturing towards the machine. “Get the pucks back in and let’s give it another go.”

“Asshole,” Finn shot back, but his voice was full of affection and something else that Jacob was pretty sure he recognized, echoing in himself. But he wasn’t going to name it, because it was way too soon and it was crazy and it was entirely possible that he wouldn’t survive telling Morgan the truth.