Page 34

Caleb

It’s the last practice before we leave for Vegas, and I’m changing like my clothes are on fire.

Leo left several marks on me, and although I’d love to stare at them in the mirror again, I don’t want Mason or the team to see them.

My poker face is better, but when I think about Leo, I get a goofy grin, according to everyone who sees me.

“Hey, is that a love bite?” Mason teases and I turn, which makes it worse because he saw the one on my shoulder, but there’s also one in my V-line. Friggin’ fudge.

Just pretend his dad didn’t fuck me stupid and mark me as his property.

I open my mouth, but Liska speaks first.

“Trevor vill be happy his Baby Benz found someone.” He smirks in retaliation for me flirting with his fiancé. In my defense, initially I did it so he would admit his feelings, the stubborn grouch.

“We agreed not to use that nickname,” Ace defends me. “But we still want details.”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” I say flippantly, and hurry to cover Leo’s marks.

“Good thing there aren’t any gentlemen in here.” Grayson walks through the door, right into the conversation. “What’s going on?”

“Our innocent Benz has hickeys.” Lucky covers his mouth like it’s a scandal.

“Like you don’t have a hundred,” I fire back.

Drake scoffs. “More than a hundred.” They high-five and kiss.

“No kissy face in the locker room,” I grumble because that’s my usual and I gotta act normal.

“Don’t change the subject.” Ace sits on the bench, leaning toward me. “We don’t need details, but do they treat you right?” He purposely uses a gender-neutral term, which I appreciate.

“They definitely do.” The goofy grin must appear because a few of the guys make swooning motions.

“Who knew you had it in you to be cagey?” Gray sits next to Ace. “Griff, give us more.”

Mason shrugs, and I see the hurt in his eyes because I haven’t given him the details. But he doesn’t betray me.

“Give the guy a break. It’s new.” He shoots me a glance, and I’m going to have to tell him something. I spent yesterday morning in bed with Leo and only went home when Mason demanded a proof-of-life text.

“Okay, team.” Ace stands and claps his hands. “Be on the ice in five.”

I feel empty, but Leo wouldn’t let me wear the plug to practice. He doesn’t want to do anything that will mess with my routine or performance. He’s exactly like I imagined he’d be but so different.

I hero-worshipped an icon, but he’s a fallible man and that makes him more attractive.

He’s not an idea anymore, he’s flesh and blood and real.

We can sit across from each other at dinner, and our conversation flows.

Leo’s interested in my opinions and how I grew up.

I’ve learned so much about his childhood and how his poverty drove him to be a provider for his family, but he didn’t understand how to meet their emotional needs.

He told me that after Mason ghosted him for a month, he knew he needed to make a change.

Mason’s happy to have his dad in his life, and even though I’m fearful of wrecking it, I can’t say no to Leo. He gets me.

During drills, there’s an ache in my ass and maybe Leo had a point about the plug, but I won’t admit it.

We break into groups, and Leo and I take one goal while the goalie coach and Liska take the other.

“The team saw my marks,” I whisper.

“ My marks,” Leo responds, looking very pleased about it.

“Well, they want details and I didn’t give them any, but Mason’s hurt that I haven’t told him about my new person,” I blurt out while doing a few extra stretches so I don’t draw attention to us.

Leo frowns. “Can you tell him the truth without using my name?”

That sounds simple. “I’m so afraid I’m going to say something that gives away your identity.” Leo is far less concerned than I am.

“I have faith in you. How much would you tell him if it wasn’t me?”

Leo has skates on today and maneuvers backward to shoot pucks at me.

Honestly, I wouldn’t tell Mason everything. Mason has vanilla tastes. Things like spanking and crawling and calling Leo Daddy are too personal. I can give him enough specific details to deter him from asking more.

After half an hour, we skate to the other side to switch goals. It’s interesting how a different side can affect your play. I swish backward, leading Leo.

“Hurry up. The Zamboni will be out here before you make it to the other side,” I tease. I’m startled when I crash into someone. When I turn, Gray’s all up in my space.

“Bad idea to take out your trainer. And a worse idea to talk shit to your coach.” Gray looks over my shoulder at Leo, his eyes ping-pong between us, then he throws his head back and laughs.

“Nice, Benz.” He slaps me on the back and slides by Leo on his sneakers.

“Way to claim your man.” He grins and heads for the bench.

“I’ll talk to him after practice,” I say, hyperventilating.

Leo nudges me to move with his stick and skates with me. “It’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. I’ll protect you.” Leo ushers me into the goal. “Now shut that out and focus.”

One thing I’ve learned is how to compartmentalize, and it takes years of practice to stop wondering how Grayson knew. Am I that obvious? Not important right now. Hockey. Got it.

We watch film after practice, and Leo leaves the room for longer than makes me comfortable. He’s going to talk to Grayson, and I’m not ready to share our relationship yet. I like that it’s just the two of us. That we can disappear together and no one passes judgment or has negative things to say.

People always have something to say. Haters comment and other people defend, but that only brings more attention, and my teammates have been able to live their lives without letting it affect them.

My mom hinted that she knows and accepts us, but my mom isn’t normal.

Mason will kill me and won’t speak to his dad.

“Benz, you with us?” the goalie coach asks.

“Yup.” I talk about the play on screen, and he believes I’m paying attention.

Leo reenters the room and sits next to me. He man-spreads so his foot and knee touch mine. “Everything’s fine,” he whispers.

We linger, talking about Vegas, until everyone else leaves the room.

“Gray won’t say anything. He purposely ran into you as a joke. I’m sorry, my anger gave me away.” He presses his leg against mine.

“W-w-what?” I stutter, unable to comprehend it wasn’t me. “You’re trying to make me feel better,” I accuse.

He raises his hand as if he’s going to touch my face, then drops it. “No. He purposely moved in your path, knocking into you. I almost retaliated with a punch.”

“But I get hit all the time. I’m a hockey player.” My brain can’t sort this out.

“In the game, it’s different. I don’t like it, but it’s part of playing. Your trainer has no business touching you.”

Leo is possessive of me.

One more life gone.

At this rate, Leo’s going to kill me in a week.

This time, Leo reaches for me and cups my jaw. “You’re important to me, and I want people to know about us.”

The sentence creates a tsunami of emotions for me. Elation and abject terror. He must see it because his eyes dim.

“Only when you’re ready. I promise not to push you.”

“It’s not… I mean…but…” I sputter and can’t get a thought out.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I won’t rush you.” Leo is more understanding than I deserve.

“It doesn’t make sense,” I say stupidly.

“What?” Leo’s thumb strokes under my cheekbone.

“Telling people will make us real. Like Mason will know and he won’t forgive either of us and people will judge us and it will be real.” I repeat the last part.

“You don’t think this is real? Have I done something to suggest that?” Leo’s thumb finds the hollow of my throat, perking my dick up as his fingers press into the side of my neck against my racing pulse.

I close my eyes. “You’ll change your mind.”

“Look at me, Baby Doll,” he demands. His amber eyes burn with fire, and when I swallow, they track the movement like he could rip my throat out or fuck me right here.

I give myself fifty-fifty odds.

“As I said, you’re important to me. I wouldn’t risk alienating my son and coming out without being sure of where this relationship is going. So if you’re having second thoughts, tell me. Now.”

“NO!” I shout and reach up to hold his hand to my face.

Another life bites the dust, and I question my ability to breathe.

My chest heaves while my brain scrambles to find words to assure him but at the same time express my fears.

“I haven’t seriously dated since the beginning of college, and that was with a girl I went to high school with.

I’m somehow going to make a mess of this, and Mason is my best friend.

For years, he was the only friend I could be myself around.

And he just got you back. He’ll see this as a betrayal by both of us.

And then there’s coming out publicly and the hate online and even though it’s so much better than it was and people have accepted Liska and Drake and Lucky but they’re good at—”

“Shh.” He puts his hand over my mouth. “Slow down. We’re going to go one step at a time. First, are your feelings for me strong enough to see a future together?”

“Yes, of course,” I say beneath his hand.

His stern face breaks into a grin, and he replaces his hand with his lips.

“It’s all I can think about,” I admit.

“Good. That’s step one, and step two is we keep this between us for now…but we should tell Ari Dimon.”

I squeak and rear back.

“He’s a man of integrity and not in the business of outing his players. I owe him the courtesy of the knowledge of our relationship. It affects the team, and he deserves to know.” He threads our fingers together, and I love how he’s always touching me.

“You don’t think he’ll fire you?”

“No. But if he did, it wouldn’t be the worst thing and I could still be here for you.” He glances at the door. “They’ll be waiting for you. Go pack. The plane leaves first thing in the morning. I’ll miss you tonight.”

I find Mason, and the conversation on the drive home is stilted.

Fixing this is up to me. “The person I’m seeing is older.”

“Like Liska old or older?” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but his lips turn up.

“Older. Like worldly and sophisticated, not wrinkly and old-person smell,” I jab back.

Mason laughs. “What do you have in common?”

“It’s not so much what we have in common, but how we are together.” Saying hockey might give me away. “I don’t have to hold back my weirdness, and they like it. They think I’m fun.”

“Is it just fun? Do they not want you to tell us who they are?” He glances at me with concern.

“No, that’s me. I like getting to know them without judgment.” I rub my sweaty palms on my joggers.

“You think we’ll judge you?”

“Yeah, you’re a judgmental bunch of old church ladies,” I joke, then turn serious. “They like to tell me what to do in bed and I—”

“Lalalalala,” Mason cuts me off and makes a face. “Too much information,” he says in a robotic voice. “But you should spend the night with them, since we’re going to be gone almost a week.”

“If you insist.” I grin. I’ve ensured Mason won’t ask me anymore questions, and I get to spend the night with Leo. Win-win.