Page 20

Chapter 20

Finn would never get tired of seeing Jacob walk towards him, wearing his black and green Evergreens jacket, his access credentials swinging around his neck.

“Hey,” Jacob said, putting a hand on Finn’s shoulder as he sat on the bench finishing getting dressed for the game. “How are you feeling?”

Finn could feel the warmth of his touch even through all the layers of equipment and he lifted his chin up, wishing that he could have more than a reassuring touch.

Wishing, maybe a little, for a good luck kiss.

“Good,” Finn said, tilting his head back. Was pretty sure Jacob was also wishing for a good luck kiss from the way his gaze lingered on Finn’s lips.

Mal and Elliott knew what was going on between them, and Ramsey and, Finn was pretty sure, Brody suspected, but nobody else knew, and it gave Finn a little charge every time he had to interact with Jacob in front of the team. Like he was getting away with stealing all the cake and nobody else knew.

Of course, that wouldn’t be the case forever. Jacob’s podcast had released a few days ago, and Sophie was already cc’ing him on emails about preparing for another slow reveal, in a month or two.

Jacob had asked him very seriously if he wanted to wait, and Finn hadn’t been sure what there was to wait for. He’d said this, confused, and Jacob had only laughed. “Guess you’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he’d said.

And okay, it was soon, they’d only been dating for two months. But Finn knew what he wanted and who he loved, and he wasn’t going to hide him away forever.

Not when Jacob had just taken that first precious step into the light.

“You’ve looked great in practice,” Jacob said, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Finn smiled, wondering if Jacob had done that on purpose so he’d stop touching him.

“Had someone really great helping me get there,” Finn said, enjoying more than he should how much Jacob was squirming.

“Watch out for their second line center,” Jacob warned. “He likes to charge the crease.”

“Brody and Ramsey’ll have my back,” Finn said. “And if he gets too close, I’ll take care of it.”

Jacob nodded, digging his fingers deeper into his pockets.

“You coming with us after the game?” Finn asked. A handful of them were headed to Darcelle’s, to grab what they hoped was a celebratory drink and to catch the drag show. He’d invited Jacob who’d hesitated for so long that Finn had teased him about spraining his brain.

“It’s just Ramsey and Ivan. Brody and his football player boyfriend. Have you met Dean? Enormous guy?” Finn had asked and Jacob said he’d think about it.

“I . . .uh . . .are you sure you want me to go?” Jacob asked under his breath.

“ I asked you ,” Finn reminded him sweetly.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“And I’m just saying, I don’t want to hide anymore. You don’t want to hide anymore.”

Jacob nodded so sharply in agreement, the movement so clearly instinctual that it was clear he didn’t.

Talking about his sexuality and being public about it was never something that would come to easily to Jacob—he was too private of a person and just wanted to be left alone to live his life—but it was one thing to not want to proclaim their love to the masses and another to go out for a drink after a game.

“Come on, come with me,” Finn said, tongue flicking out and tasting his lower lip. “And after . . .”

Jacob laughed and scrubbed a hand across his face. “Okay. Yes. I’m absolute shit at resisting you.”

“Which is okay ’cause you really don’t want to.”

Jacob’s expression went unbearably fond, love radiating out of it, and Finn understood why Sophie seemed to be accelerating their timetable every day, because he saw the way Jacob looked at him. And Finn couldn’t imagine that the way he looked back was much different.

They wouldn’t be able to keep this under wraps much longer.

“No, not at all,” Jacob agreed. He leaned down and for a split second, brushed the bottom of his chin against the top of Finn’s head. “Kick some ass out there, and we’ll go out with your guys.”

“Can do,” Finn said, grinning. “You gonna sit with my dad again?”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Who do you think’s already texted me four times about the second line center?”

Finn laughed.

Three months ago, those messages would’ve gone to him, and three months ago, those messages would’ve made him believe unequivocally that his dad didn’t have any faith in him to deal with some team’s second line center.

Witnessing his dad’s attempts to show how much he believed in Finn and loved him was great. What was even better was feeling this bone-deep certainty, no matter what anyone said or did, that he was capable of anything he set his mind to.

“We need to stop him from watching so much tape,” Finn said.

“No,” Jacob said, and the word was as good as a caress, “’cause then we have to occupy his time instead and we’ve got a lot better things to do.”

“Yeah,” Finn agreed, lighting up just thinking about it. “Maybe someone he could date?” Then he made a face. “Ugh, then he’d want to double date.”

Jacob’s expression made it clear he didn’t want to double date with Morgan either.

“Well, at least you’re getting the texts now?”

“And I’m probably gonna hear about it the whole game, every time that center is on the goddamn ice,” Jacob said. But he didn’t seem honestly that annoyed about it, really.

Finn had a feeling that one morning he’d wake up and suddenly his boyfriend and his dad would actually be friends.

There was no way they’d ever stop chirping each other, but it had gotten downright good-natured in comparison and Finn couldn’t say he hated it.

“Well, I uh . . .” Jacob gestured towards the door. “Guess I’d better go find him.”

Finn loved him so much. It was adorable and ridiculous how much he was fighting the compulsion to just lean down and take what they both wanted.

“Come here,” Finn said, before Jacob could turn away.

“I’m . . .but . . .” Jacob’s protest wasn’t real though. He didn’t even sound convinced by it himself.

“Just this,” Finn said and tilted his head up. “Say ‘good luck, Finn’ and give me a quick kiss. Nobody’s paying attention.” That wasn’t really true, but Finn didn’t care. Elliott and Malcolm were five seconds away from fucking in a treatment room these days, and they all barely blinked at that.

He could have this.

“You really want me to?” Jacob asked.

“Yes,” Finn said. He didn’t ask if Jacob wanted to. It was obvious he did, from the careful way he held himself a scrupulous six inches away from Finn and his eyes kept snagging on Finn’s mouth.

Jacob’s hands moved from his pockets to Finn’s shoulders. He leaned in, close, and Finn felt his breath go out in a hard, unsteady whoosh.

“Good luck,” he murmured into his ear, and then Finn tilted his head, Jacob’s mouth brushing against his. It was fairly PG as their kisses went but it wasn’t short, not like Finn had imagined when he suggested it, but that was okay, because this was even better.

And so was the way Jacob lingered in the bubble of his personal space, his dark eyes full of promises Finn knew he’d keep, and said, “I love you.”

Finn nearly chased his lips after that, greedy and wanting a second kiss. But Jacob pulled back.

“And that’s what I really wanted to do,” Jacob said, and then he was turning and walking out to more than a few catcalls, leaving Finn to stare goofily after him.

“Well, congratulations,” Brody said, nudging him. “I think we’re all pregnant now.”

“You’re a bio major; you know that’s an impossibility,” Finn argued.

“But if it was , we’d all be pregnant,” Brody said sagely. “That’s my way of saying, congrats, Finn, we’re happy for you. He’s hot, but even more important, he’s hot for you.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Ivan said, leaning over and joining in. “Nabbing Jacob fucking Braun. You’re my new hero.”

Finn flushed happily. “Yeah?”

“Even better that it probably drove your dad insane ,” Ivan said. “Someone needs to take that guy down a peg. Or ten.”

Brody looked like he agreed with this assessment, but Brody was awesome and had always, and would probably never stop, taking Finn’s side.

“Who needs taking down a peg?” Ramsey sauntered over. Everyone else looked semi-stupid walking in skates except Ramsey.

Elliott liked to say that was how he got so much dick, but they all knew that wasn’t even remotely close to the only reason why.

“Finn’s dad,” Ivan said.

There was a commotion at the door to the locker room, a few gasps and Finn looked up and God , there he was, outlined in the doorway.

“Shit,” Ivan muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, Ivy, where’s your balls now?” Ramsey asked loudly. “You gonna go do it right now?”

“No, no, no ,” Ivan hissed.

Finn laughed.

Coach G walked in, flanked on one side by Zach and on the other side by his dad.

He was wearing black and green, and their eyes met across the room. Morgan had told him that Coach had asked him if he could do this, at some point, and he’d actually asked Finn if it was okay with him.

Finn had said yes, but he hadn’t had a clue it was happening tonight .

Well, maybe better Jacob was already gone and his dad hadn’t had to witness Jacob claiming him in front of the entire locker room.

“We’ve got a special guest tonight,” Coach said, eyes scanning the room. “A future Hall of Famer, and one of the best players to ever take the ice, Morgan Reynolds.”

They all cheered.

Even Finn.

And for once, that felt okay.

For a split second, when he’d seen his dad walk in, he’d thought, horribly, no, no, not now , but after his initial reaction, he realized that it wasn’t terrible. It was actually okay. More than okay.

Morgan met his gaze from across the room. Finn’s chin went up and then Morgan’s did and they both smiled.

It’s gonna be good. It’s gonna be great.

“Happy to be here, boys,” Morgan said, glancing around the room as the cheers grew. “Let’s kick this off with our starting left wing, number nine and your Captain, Malcolm McCoy.” Morgan paused as cheers spiked again. “At center, number seventy-one, Ivan Sokolov. Starting right wing, number eighty-eight, Elliott Jones. In the back, Brody Faulkner, number seventy-four. And opposite him, Ramsey Andresen, number eight. And last, but definitely not least. Between the pipes tonight, with one of the highest save percentages in the nation, number twenty-nine, from Rochester, New York, my son and your goalie, Finn Reynolds.”

The room erupted as Morgan walked down the center of the room and Finn met him halfway, embracing him firmly.

Morgan’s eyes weren’t entirely dry and Finn didn’t think his were either. He decided he didn’t give a shit. His teammates had been present for the worst of this relationship—maybe now they could see the other side of the coin, the way Finn was.

“Kill it out there today,” Morgan murmured, and Finn nodded.

When he pulled back, Morgan’s eyes were still bright with unshed tears.

“Yeah,” Finn said.

“Proud of you.”

And Finn realized that not only did his dad mean it, but that he meant it.

He was proud of himself.

Time to go to work.