Page 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

RIVER

Today marks the start of my professional hockey career. All of the years of busting my ass have finally paid off. I dreamed of this moment. But I miss Nate and my teammates. I miss the familiarity of my old life.

I was a big fish in a small pond at Kingston University. Now, I’m a nobody. A player with no pro stats or recorded accomplishments. No adoring fans who wear my jersey to every game.

One day, they will.

As I head into the rink, hockey bag slung over my shoulder, I grab my cell phone. Nate has already texted ten times.

He even called twice.

Considering I last saw him less than two hours ago, I worry how he’ll fare without me. His first night alone might send him over the edge.

I scan the new messages he sent in the past ten minutes and sigh.

Nate

I moved my stuff into your bedroom.

Nate

It smells like you.

Nate

I’m not washing your sheets.

Nate

Parker’s pissed because your room is bigger than his. He wanted it. I told him to fuck off.

He snaps a picture of him in my bed, head tilted back on my pillow, his blond hair a mess.

River

How are you feeling?

Nate

My ribs are sore.

River

How are you emotionally?

Nate

I feel like you took a part of me with you.

River

I miss you too.

River

Je vous aime.

Nate

I know this one.

Nate

Love you too.

He loves it when I speak French to him. Outside of my dad’s family, I rarely speak it. Every summer, we visited Quebec. Dad would go back and forth between Canada and the States for hockey while I stayed with my mom and grandparents. They hammered the language into my brain.

River

I’m here. Can’t talk. I’ll call you later.

I silence the phone and stuff it into my bag. On my way inside the rink, I force back the bile rising, willing the nerves to go away. You’d think I would be relaxed after my shower with Nate. But my raging anxiety has come back in full force.

I have undergone too many changes in a week. My parents discovered I’m gay. I inked a lucrative hockey deal with a hometown team. Nate got hurt. I kissed my boyfriend in front of thousands of people… and the world.

It will be okay.

Don’t freak out .

On my drive to Long Island, my dad updated me on the media frenzy. Most of the responses have been positive. Several dozen celebrities tweeted the news, offering their congratulations. Some said I was brave. Others wished me luck in my first season.

But I worry more about the less vocal people, like my teammates, who stop talking when I enter the locker room.

Hello, awkward, my old friend .

It’s so quiet I can hear them breathing. Thankfully, the tension doesn’t last long. One of the players closest to me—the top defenseman in the league—waves as he approaches me.

“Hey, River,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Calloway Marshall. But you can call me Cal. Welcome to the team.”

I know , I want to say, but hold my tongue. My new teammates factored into my decision to choose the Islanders over the Rangers.

I shake his hand, grinning like an idiot. “Thanks, Cal. I’m happy to be here.”

Ugh, I sound like such a loser.

After Cal introduces himself, many guys share the same sentiments. A few give me shit about being a rookie and earning my spot. Coach Thompson shakes my hand. Three guys congratulate me on being brave and coming out publicly. Several players make faces at that or roll their eyes.

I figured some people would take issue with my sexuality. So, I need to address the group while I have their undivided attention.

“I’m sure you guys have heard the news,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear, including my new coach, the trainers, and everyone in the vicinity. “I don’t want you to feel weird around me. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I’m interested in any of you. I’m here to play the sport I love. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Cal says with a nod. “We’re good.”

A bunch of grunts echo around the room.

“I thought it was crazy brave for you to come out like that,” Donovan says, slapping his hand on my back.

Donovan Marsten, along with Cal, was one of the players who tweeted after the press release.

Coach Thompson moves beside me as the crowd disperses, back to business and preparing for practice.

“Your dad is an old friend. I’m banking on you being even better than Ryan.” He winks. “Welcome to the team, rookie.”

* * *

After practice, I drive to my new house and park in my driveway. Until now, I have never had a place to call my own. I went from living with my parents to a boarding school dorm and the on-campus house.

This is not just my home.

It’s Nate’s.

My mother’s Bentley is parked by the five-car garage. She texted earlier to say the furniture company was coming earlier than expected.

I enter the Colonial-style home with a massive foyer, high ceilings, and dozens of windows. Sunlight streams into the living room, casting a glow over the space.

My mom sits on the sectional couch, feet kicked up on the chaise, cell phone in hand. She perks up when she hears my feet on the hardwood floor. A smile lights up her beautiful face.

“Rivie,” she says, rising from the couch. “How was your first practice with the team?”

“Good.” I lean forward and kiss her cheek. “Thanks for doing this, Momma.”

“Your dad helped.” She shrugs. “He just left to pick up an early dinner for the three of us.”

“Cool, I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

She slips her fingers between mine and tugs me toward the kitchen. “Let me give you the tour of your new house. The delivery men assembled the furniture. And your dad helped me move things around. But you can do whatever you want.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” I tell her as we enter the kitchen.

I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and down half of it. My gaze drifts to the windows overlooking the bay. The impressive water view is worth every penny.

Only the outline of Kingston University is visible from this distance. But knowing Nate is across the water brings me comfort. I bought this house to feel closer to him.

“I need to call Nate,” I tell my mom, removing the phone from my pocket. “Do you mind if I do that before we tour the house?”

She nods. “Go ahead. I’m sure he’s having a fit without you. That boy is so in love it’s adorable.”

I pause and turn to look at her. “Did you see it?”

“Yeah, I did. I saw how you both looked at each other. So did your dad, which is why he was so hard on you. I wish he hadn’t reacted the way he did… But he’s coming around. He even bought a Pride jersey with your number to support you.”

My eyes widen in shock. “Seriously?”

“He feels terrible about what he said, Rivie.” Mom props her hip against the marble island and tucks blonde strands behind her ears. “Guys like your dad grow up thinking men must be tough and macho. That being gay makes you soft. It’s just how he was raised. You know what your grandfather was like.”

I bob my head to agree.

“But it doesn’t excuse his behavior.” She slides her arm across my shoulders. “He’s trying to make up for being a jerk. You should see what he did for you upstairs. It’s really special.”

“Show me.”

We race up the staircase to the second floor. The house has two floors and a finished basement. All the bedrooms are on the top floor. I walk past the master, two guest rooms, and a home gym and halt at the last door on my right.

Mom pushes it open, smiling as she steps inside. “What do you think?”

I had told her I wanted a game room decorated with hockey memorabilia. But I hadn’t expected my dad to help or finish it in one day.

Every jersey I have ever worn is displayed in glass cases on the walls. I’m shocked to see all my peewee hockey jerseys at the top of the wall. Then, Remington Academy, Kingston University, and the New York Islanders are spaced around the Pride jersey with my last name and number.

There’s an oversized couch facing a massive flat-screen TV. Of course, I needed an air hockey table. Nate and I used to play all the time at boarding school. I thought it would be a nice touch to have something that brought us together in our home.

I hug my mom. “Thank you. This looks amazing. I love it. Nate will, too.”

The front door slams downstairs, and my dad shouts, “I’m home. Come eat.”

“Go ahead,” I tell her. “I want to call Nate on FaceTime.”

She flashes a sweet grin and closes the door as she leaves. I plop onto the couch and call Nate the second she’s gone. He answers on the first ring, shirtless and sweaty.

“Anxious to hear from me?” I ask, smiling so hard it hurts, holding out the phone so he can see my face.

“Always,” he says, sounding out of breath. “I was just…”

He lowers the screen to show his hard cock fisted in his other hand. “I was watching our porn. But now that I have the real thing... Wanna play with me?”

“I can’t. My parents are downstairs eating dinner.” I pan the room so he can see it. “My dad did this for us. He bought a Pride jersey. Can you believe it?”

His eyebrows raise as he looks at the wall of jerseys. “Wow. He’s not being an asshole anymore, huh?”

“No. I think he feels bad.”

“Well, he should,” he grunts, the screen moving with his hand. “Oh fuck.”

“Nate, are you kidding me? How can you carry on a conversation and still do that ?”

“Easy.” He makes a kissy face. “I get to look at you while I do it.”

I lean back on the cushion and watch his mouth open and close, seeing the hot-as-hell faces he makes right before he orgasms.

“Come for me, Nate,” I whisper. “Pretend it’s my ass… Fill me with your cum.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls, his body trembling as an orgasm rocks through him.

Nate tilts the phone and lets me see the cum dripping down his cock, some of it on his hand and sheets. “I needed that, baby. Thanks.”

After his breathing returns to normal, I say, “Do you want a tour of our house?”

His eyes light up. “Our house? Fuck, I love how that sounds. Ours. We’re getting married after graduation. Like right away. I don’t want to waste another second.”

“You have to propose first.”

“Oh, so it’s on me?” Nate cleans himself up with a towel and tosses it on the floor. “Would you say yes?”

“What kind of question is that?”

For someone so sure of himself in most aspects of his life, Nate can be so insecure with me. It makes no sense. He has the face of a cover model, a pro athlete’s body, and a brilliant mind. But his heart is my favorite part of him.

No one loves me like Nate.

All-consuming and intoxicating.

He tucks a pillow behind his head, resting against the headboard. “Will you marry me, River?”

“Ask me again when we’re together. And I want romance.”

“Yeah?” Nate cocks his head to the side and chuckles. “Do you want me to ask your dad for permission? Sing you a song? Get down on one knee and tell you how much I love you?”

“I want the moment to be special. And for us to be together when you ask me again.”

“Now, I’m gonna make you wait.”

“Dick,” I grind out.

“You love my dick.” He laughs. “Wanna see it? I can get hard for you again.”

Before I answer, my mother calls my name.

“Give me a minute,” I yell.

“Hey, babe, I have to go. I’ll call you after I eat. You need a proper view of our house.”

“Oh,” Nate says. “Remind me to tell you about Parker the next time we talk.”

“What about Parker?”

He smirks and ends the call.