Page 8

Chapter 8

“Killer performance tonight by Finn—who proved to us that he’s only getting better in the net,” Coach said, giving him a solid nod of approval, as they sat in the locker room after the final buzzer, Finn having delivered his third shutout of the season.

Finn lifted a hand, acknowledging the compliment and the resulting cheer.

“Frankly, we’re all coming together, getting better and better,” Coach continued when the noise finally died down. “Also want to call out our offense, for really getting going in the second period. Ell, you had that sweet goal in the first, but you followed it up and didn’t lose the momentum. In fact—you built on it, and that’s what I want to see. What the scouts want to see.”

Elliott looked over at Malcolm, who looked like he was trying not to grin proudly at his boyfriend. “I had the perfect person pushing me,” he said.

Ivan made a vomiting noise. “You guys are disgusting. Save the lovey-dovey shit for the bedroom.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Coach said. “But yes, you’re better when you push each other. When you all push each other.”

“We’re gonna keep doing it, Coach,” Brody said in that quiet, determined way of his.

“Yep,” Ramsey agreed.

“Good, ’cause the tough part of the season is coming up. We’re second in the conference, but I really want that first seed with its bye week in the playoffs. And I want you to have it, too, to rest and recover and to prepare for what’s to come. Let’s agree that we’re attacking each and every game like it matters, because it does.”

The resulting cheer was even louder and Finn nodded, because he too felt like they were playing their best hockey—but they could be even better. He could be even better. Sure, he’d recorded the shutout tonight, but there was always another level he could push himself to.

And he wasn’t even doing it just for this team, but to prove to the Sentinels that he deserved their time and attention and resources. He was ready to move on from Portland, but they held all the cards.

Morgan had been telling him for months to push them.

But it was more than that, Finn realized.

He needed not to push, but to prove .

“Really,” Coach B said as he meandered over to where Finn was stripping his equipment off, one piece at a time, “it was a great game, Reynolds.”

Coach patted him on the shoulder, all warm reassurance, but Finn was stuck on how different it had felt when Jacob had touched him. It hadn’t been warm; it had been hot .

That was going to become a problem. He could see it coming, and honestly, part of him didn’t even care anymore that it would be messy. That it would make everything infinitely more difficult, because it wasn’t like resisting was all that easy, either.

“Thanks, Coach,” Finn said, grateful at the acknowledgment of a job well done.

“You seemed . . .calmer out there. Different, in some way.” Coach paused. “Zach mentioned you saw Jacob between the first and second period. Is he . . .that’s working?”

Finn wanted to know what he’d held himself back from saying but knowing Coach he wouldn’t divulge it. But Finn could guess.

“It’s going pretty good,” Finn said. I hope it’ll be going even better soon. But just like how Coach didn’t want Mal and Elliott’s relationship invading the locker room, he wasn’t going to want to hear about how Finn had a major hard-on for the ex-NHL star giving him private coaching. In fact, he’d probably warn Finn off, then overload him with good-intentioned and likely logically sound advice that he’d have to blow off, and that would add an extra layer of guilt that Finn didn’t need.

So he didn’t say anything.

“Good, good. I’m glad. I wasn’t sure . . .you didn’t need more pressure, but a pressure valve and I hoped he might be the right tool.”

He’s got the right tool alright.

Finn snapped his mind back from the danger zone. “So far it’s working out.”

“If he wanted to be on the bench, in the locker room, how would you feel about that?” Coach’s question was casual, like it didn’t mean anything, but Finn caught the sharpness in his gaze. It was a big deal to invite a new entity permanently into these sacred spaces. Could change the chemistry for the better—or for the worse.

Coach would be cautious.

“What he said was helpful, between the periods,” Finn answered honestly. “I wouldn’t be against it but . . .” He hesitated, because Jacob hadn’t really talked a lot about his feelings surrounding retirement, but he’d said enough that Finn knew a part of him was struggling with it. And part of him didn’t want to be the one to divulge Jacob’s secrets to Coach. “But I don’t know how he’d feel about that.”

“Right.” Comprehension dawned across Coach’s face. “Understood. I’ll talk to him.”

Finn nodded.

“Alright, get dressed,” Coach said, patting him again.

Coach B had turned to walk away before Finn found himself saying, “Would it be okay if I didn’t take the bus back?”

Coach looked back, over his shoulder, his gaze narrowing. “You want to drive back with Jacob? Go over the game?”

“Something like that.”

Finn could feel the heat building between him and Jacob, as surely as the pressure inside him had built. Maybe they could be each other’s release valves.

God knew Jacob probably needed it, and Finn could even use it at this point, though he could probably find a lot of guys casually willing to do it. But he didn’t want that. Not now. Not anymore.

“Alright,” Coach said. “If Jacob’s fine with it.”

Jacob probably wouldn’t be. He’d probably freak out and panic a little and claim it was a bad idea. But Finn already knew he had the power to convince him to change his mind. He couldn’t— wouldn’t— abuse it, but it was there, all the same, just waiting to be used.

And Finn intended to use it tonight.

He showered and changed, sure that when he exited the visiting rink, Jacob would be waiting outside.

Sure enough, there he was, lounging against one of the decorative trees lining the walkway to the front door. There was another guy with him, and for a second, Finn internally panicked. Had Jacob brought a date to his game tonight?

But after the sudden, painful wave of jealousy ebbed, Finn looked closer and realized they were both a similar height and had that same familiar dark brown hair on their heads. The other guy’s was neater, and had a few speckles of gray on the temples, but it was still the same. And then the other guy swung his head around, probably reacting to Jacob seeing him approach, and their faces were so alike Finn knew this had to be a brother.

Jacob had brought his brother to his game. To meet him? To see him?

This did add a wrinkle to the request Jacob drive him home, but Finn decided this was even better.

Jacob would probably insist it didn’t mean anything, but Finn knew better, and exhilaration swamped him, eating every bit of jealousy away.

“Hey,” Jacob said as he walked up to the pair of them. “Great game.”

“Thanks.” Finn turned to the other guy, who was definitely smirking now, and held out his hand. “I’m Finn Reynolds.”

“Bryan Braun, and I know exactly who you are,” he said, shaking Finn’s hand and still grinning.

“I just bet you do.” Finn chuckled, especially delighted at how uncomfortable Jacob looked by this whole exchange.

“None of that,” Jacob said firmly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Aw, we’re just getting to know each other,” Finn teased. “And we’re going to keep doing it too, ’cause I need a ride home.”

“A ride home? What about the team bus you took here? The bus you’re supposed to be taking home?”

Yep, Finn had been dead-on right about the panic. Though that seemed like quite a bit of an overreaction now, because what was he going to do to seduce Jacob with his brother in the car with them?

He shrugged. “Coach said I could drive home with you.” Grinning, he nudged Jacob with his shoulder. “You know, break down the game together.”

“Sounds like a pretty boring time,” Bryan inserted. “Glad I drove myself.”

Oh shit. No wonder Jacob was panicking.

Jacob frowned. Finn knew he’d probably not wiped his relief off his face quickly enough and he’d probably seen it. Known exactly why he’d been happy about this turn of events.

“You should take the bus back,” Jacob said.

“Nope,” Finn said. “I really don’t think I should.”

Bryan laughed. “Brother,” he said, patting Jacob on the shoulder, “you just remember what I told you. I’ll check in tomorrow. It was great to finally meet you, Finn.”

Then he was walking away, and Finn resisted the urge to do a fist pump. Finally meet you . Which meant Jacob had been talking about him.

“Don’t freak out about that,” Jacob muttered. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“No?” Finn grinned.

“No. Means nothing.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe you.” Finn nudged him again. “Come on, drive me home. Would it kill you?”

“It might . He might ,” Jacob said darkly, and Finn knew he was thinking about his dad.

“Come on, don’t be overdramatic. Imagine how happy Morgan’s going to be that I’m a great goalie. Uplifting the Reynolds name and all that utter bullshit.”

“You were already a great goalie,” Jacob said. “You cleared this with Gavin?”

“Gavin? Oh, you mean Coach B?”

Jacob nodded, compressing his lips together. Like he didn’t need a reminder that Finn’s coach was his contemporary and he was not only allowed to call him by his first name, but he was welcome to do it.

“Yep. He’s good with it.” They started walking towards the parking lot. “He asked me if I wanted you to come into the locker room during games.”

“Oh . . .I . . .uh . . .”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him,” Finn said wryly.

Jacob didn’t say anything, just nodded as he unlocked the door of a dark blue Mercedes SUV.

They got in, and Jacob started the car.

“I think it would be really hard to retire before you were ready. Even when it would’ve been so much easier for me to not play hockey—to do just about anything else, honestly—I still wanted to do it, and I still thought it was worth it.”

“Yeah.”

Finn made a face. “Clearly you don’t want to talk about it. Guess I can’t blame you for that.” It was going to be a long hour, though, if Jacob didn’t want to talk to him. If he really believed that staying silent would somehow keep Finn at arm’s length.

As Jacob pulled onto the highway heading north towards Portland, he stayed silent.

Finn opened his mouth—maybe Jacob didn’t want to talk about his retirement but the game had to be allowed territory, right?—but before he could bring up anything, Jacob actually spoke.

“It was hard to retire before I wanted to. But it’s been weird since. Because on one hand, I’m happy . Really happy. The possibility of coming out, of living honestly?”

“You could’ve done it before now,” Finn said, making sure his tone was free of judgment.

“And let that be all anyone ever wanted to say about me? No. I didn’t want that. For others, that’s fine, but I’m too private.” Jacob drummed fingers against the steering wheel. Still looking like he didn’t want to discuss this.

Finn nodded. “Makes sense.”

“So I am happy. Relieved almost. No more worrying about getting outed. If the one or two guys I hook up with every year will blab, despite the NDA they sign.”

Finn froze. “Wait,” he said. “ One or two hookups a year ?”

“You would focus on that,” Jacob said dryly.

“No wonder you’re happy. I’d be fucking thrilled.”

“Sex isn’t everything.” Jacob cleared his throat, and Finn watched as his fingers tightened on the wheel, his knuckles going white.

“That’s what people say when they haven’t had a lot of really, really good sex,” Finn teased, because he couldn’t help himself.

Maybe it wasn’t fair—but he’d been right, hadn’t he? God , if anyone needed a pressure valve release, it was Jacob Braun.

“You’re twenty-one years old. Don’t tell me you’ve had a lot of really, really good sex,” Jacob said and then looked like he immediately regretted saying anything at all. “Nevermind. Don’t answer that. Please don’t answer that.”

“Oh, but I want to,” Finn said, just to see Jacob’s reaction. He was rewarded by a tightening of that glorious jaw.

His profile was black and white in the dim light of the car, illuminated briefly every once in awhile as a car passed them on the freeway. His dark beard was thick and looked soft, but Finn’s fingers itched to feel his face. To trace its shape. He’d be handsome, maybe even beautiful, without it.

And with it? He was still so fucking hot.

“The answer is that I guess I don’t know,” Finn continued. “I’ve had what I thought was really good sex, but when you’re eighteen and anyone but you touches your dick, it feels great.”

“Or when you’re twenty-one and anyone but you touches your dick,” Jacob deadpanned.

Finn had to give him that. “True,” he said.

Speaking of his dick, it was undeniably interested in this conversation, thickening in his slacks. He resisted the urge to shift in the seat and give away that all it took to give him a hard-on was listening to Jacob Braun say the word dick .

He’d finagled his way into this car with the idea of seducing Jacob. That it would be easy-ish. Now Finn knew just how easy it would be. Jacob was probably panting for it. But now he also knew just how complicated it was too, because it wouldn’t just be a hookup to Jacob. It would be the start of the rest of his life. A life lived openly and freely.

Finn wanted to be ready for that, but he didn’t know if he was. He was still so fucking tangled up with all Morgan’s crap. Was he ready to take more baggage on? Ready to take Jacob’s baggage on?

He changed the subject, telling himself that it was the only sane thing to do in this situation.

Besides, his balls would thank him later.

“So you’re happy because you can finally live the way you’ve wanted to, but you know it came at a steep price.”

Jacob glanced over at him, and Finn caught the surprise on his face. Had he really expected Finn to push? To keep talking about sex until there was nothing to do but pull over and go at each other on the side of I-5?

Frankly, it had been tempting, so Finn understood the assumption a little too well.

“Basically yeah,” Jacob admitted. “Every moment I think how happy I am, how happy I could be, in that hazy future I want, the guilt at what I paid for it kills me. It’s . . .it’s complicated.”

Finn told himself that was why it had been smart to change the subject. This thing was messy enough, with even the thought of Morgan lingering between them like a bad smell.

“But you still want to come out,” Finn said.

Jacob nodded. “I’m working on it, anyway. Mostly because my PR rep, Sophie, tells me if I want to publicize this foundation I’m starting, I have to do that first.”

“What kind of foundation?”

“Support for LGBT kids who want to participate in athletics,” Jacob said.

It was exactly the kind of thing that he’d imagined Jacob might do, but he was still surprised at how touched he was. “That’s awesome,” Finn said. “We need more of that.”

“We do,” Jacob said. Finn had changed the subject once himself, so he could hardly be annoyed when Jacob did it, now. “You want to talk about that last bit before the end of the first period?”

He didn’t. Especially because it had worked out, in the end. But ostensibly this was why he’d hitched a ride with Jacob. Ignoring the voice inside him that argued, claiming that he’d just wanted more time with the guy, no matter what they talked about, Finn nodded.

For the next forty-five minutes, he and Jacob broke down the game, going over a number of plays. If Finn had worried that Jacob would be overly critical, he wasn’t. He didn’t hesitate to call him out if he deserved it but he never rubbed the mistakes in, and he didn’t hold back on compliments, of which there were a surprising number.

When Finn commented on that, when they were only maybe five minutes away from campus, Jacob shot him a surprised look. “You didn’t think there’d be a lot to compliment in your game?” he said.

“Well, no, not exactly,” Finn hedged.

“Don’t tell me you thought I’d be like your dad, because if you’d thought that, you’d never have come to me in the first place,” Jacob muttered.

“Maybe I came to you because you’re hot, and I was craving some of your ‘special’ one-on-one tutoring,” Finn teased.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Yeah, I got a shutout, but—”

“No buts,” Jacob said insistently. “You got the shutout, you got the win, so you take it. Accept it. Celebrate it. Then we move on.”

“Okay.”

“Remember what I told you between the first and second period?”

“Not everything has to be perfect to be handled.”

“Exactly.” Jacob’s chin rose. “You handled your shit today. Was it all perfect? It never is. There’s always room for improvement, for growth. That’s what keeps us moving forward. But there’s also room to acknowledge everything you did right.”

“Thanks,” Finn said quietly.

Jacob pulled over in front of the quad. “This okay?” he asked. “I realized, I wasn’t sure where you lived . . .”

“You asking to be invited up?” Finn teased.

“Don’t do that,” Jacob said and he reached over, cupping his chin with a big warm hand. Calloused in all the right places. Finn felt the thrill of it all the way down. “Don’t deflect with a joke.”

His hand dropped.

“I . . .” But he had been. It was easier to change the subject, to tease Jacob with something sexual, than it was to accept that he was good.

That he deserved the shutout tonight.

That he was, in fact, good enough .

“Sit here, for a minute, and just accept it, okay? I want you to actually say it. Out loud. Finn Reynolds is a good goalie. Finn Reynolds is a great goalie.”

Finn nearly made a joke, again, about how Jacob was going to swell more than just his ego, but he bit his tongue at the last moment. Because Jacob was right. He didn’t want to just sit here and accept it. To say it.

He wouldn’t say he was more comfortable with the status quo of believing the bullshit his dad didn’t say, but lingered between the lines of his texts anyway, because none of that had ever been comfortable. But it was easier, maybe. Something he’d accepted.

“Finn Reynolds is a good goalie.” He said it slowly, cautiously. Not quite believing it.

But Jacob nodded. “Again.”

“Finn Reynolds is a good goalie.” It came easier the second time. “Finn Reynolds is a great goalie.”

“There you go,” Jacob said softly, approval and an undeniable affection glowing in his dark eyes. “I knew you could do it. You’re tough, you’re strong, you’re determined, and you’re willing to put the work in. With all that, plus your natural skill, there’s nothing you can’t do, Finn.”

But there was one thing Finn couldn’t do. Shouldn’t do.

He leaned over the console, closer to Jacob. Close enough he could nearly smell the scent of the trees on his plaid shirt. The fabric would be warm from his body. He could lean in even closer, flick open a button or two, find the skin underneath.

It would be glorious skin. Finn had already seen it once, when they’d been in the sauna, even as he’d tried not to look.

But this time maybe he could touch.

Jacob didn’t move away. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

The air thickened between them. It felt inevitable that Finn would cross the final distance separating them, and Jacob, too long without any of the release he must need, would let him.

It would be so good. Maybe even the really, really good sex Finn had been teasing him about earlier.

Finn tried to remember his earlier hesitation, when he’d acknowledged to himself that Jacob deserved someone who could be free and easy with him, the way he wanted to be, now. With Morgan, that wouldn’t be possible. Maybe his dad might accept Jacob making him a better goalie.

Morgan would never accept this.

Their relationship, already strained, would implode.

You’ll never get that approval you’ve always craved. He’ll be silently disapproving, forever.

But even that didn’t stop Finn. He leaned in another inch, and Jacob’s eyelashes fluttered. They were thick and dark, curling on the ends. His chest was rising and falling rapidly with his breath, and Finn knew if he pressed a hand to his heart, he’d feel it racing.

So easy to curl his fingertips in the fabric. Undo those buttons.

Jacob would let him.

Would even welcome it.

The fate of our self-control shouldn’t be in my hands , Finn thought. Not when this charged moment, in the dark, with Jacob’s woodsy scent all around them, felt like the hottest sex he’d ever had, and they hadn’t even touched each other.

How was he supposed to resist when everything about this was electrifying? When it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him?

“Finn,” Jacob murmured, his voice rough around the edges.

“Yeah?”

Finn’s fingers drifted down to his arm, circled it, the hard firmness and its inherent warmth soaking into his palm.

But Jacob didn’t say anything else. Finn leaned in, and even before their lips brushed, he was already drowning in the taste of him.

But before he could actually experience it, a buzzing shook the car.

Shook them apart.

Jacob sprang back, horror written across his face.

He doesn’t want you.

Correction: he doesn’t want to want you.

Finn knew it, but the truth still hit him like a bucketful of ice-cold water.

Jacob scrambled back, pulling his phone out of his pocket. That was what had buzzed, then.

He answered it, and Finn tried to ignore the way Jacob’s fingers were trembling around it. He dug his own fisted hands into his thighs, also pretending they weren’t shaking the exact same goddamn way.

“Hey,” Jacob said. “Oh. Oh . Well that’s . . .unexpected. Good, but unexpected.” He paused. “Sure. I can do that. I . . .I’ll make the reservation. Yeah. Same place. Same time. Alright. See you then.”

He clicked the phone off and set it on the console. He looked over in Finn’s direction, but Finn realized he was staring over his shoulder. That he wasn’t even looking at him. “That was Sophie.”

“Who’s Sophie?”

“My PR rep.” He paused. “She and Mark, my agent, are coming into town this week and we’re going to have one of our dinner meetings on Tuesday night. I . . .I want you to be there, Finn.”

Finn wasn’t stupid enough to believe it was because Jacob had acknowledged this was inevitable, and he wanted to introduce two of the most important people in his life to Finn.

No, it was time for Finn to earn his part of the bargain they’d struck.

Finn moistened his lips. Pretended that if they hadn’t just gotten interrupted, he might’ve been able to taste Jacob on them, now. “Okay,” he said.

“I’ll text you the address of the restaurant. We’ll meet at seven. I know you have school and homework. Maybe even practice?”

Finn wanted to laugh wretchedly. What a time to be reminded that he was still in college . Maybe Jacob wanted it, but he sure fucking didn’t.

“It’s fine. I’m free. We have Tuesday off. No practice.”

“Okay. Okay. Good.”

Jacob had still not looked him in the eye.

It was impossible to believe it was better this way, not when it felt so shitty.

“Finn . . .”

“Don’t,” Finn said sharply. If Jacob apologized . . .if he let him down easily, kindly , Finn was going to scream. “Just don’t, okay?”

“Okay,” Jacob said.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. But Finn, who knew he should get out of this goddamn car and away from temptation, didn’t move.

“I just . . .I want you to speak up in the meeting, okay? If you don’t like what they say. You know me—”

“And they don’t?” Finn interrupted.

“No, they do, but they have a lot of factors to consider that aren’t just me, and how I am, how I feel, but you . . .” Jacob cleared his throat. “That’s what you’re there for. To have my back.” The way I have yours , was the unspoken end of that sentence. Finn heard it, even if Jacob didn’t say it.

“Yes,” Finn said. He wanted to tell Jacob to fuck off, that this all had been a massive mistake, a painful tempting of fate, but it was working, wasn’t it? He’d had a shutout tonight. He felt better about his play than he had in a long time. And Jacob would have someone at this meeting to stand up for him, to think about him .

Like Finn could fucking think about anyone else.

“Okay. Good. I thought . . .I thought we could at least have this.” Jacob laughed, not sounding particularly amused by it.

“Right.” Get out of the car now, before you say anything else. Before you goddamn do anything else. Finn put his hand on the door handle, but he didn’t open it.

Then of course, Jacob chose that moment to actually look at him, right in the eye. “No matter what happens,” Jacob said slowly, like he was carefully picking each and every word, “I’m not going to regret this.”

Finn jerked and opened the door.

Melted into the night and refused to look back.

Understood a little too well how Jacob felt about retiring from hockey. That he was happy and guilty about being happy.

Because Finn fucking loved that he held their fate in his hands and resented the hell out of it, at the exact goddamn time.