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ERIK

K ayden and I had gone out to the Colter Bay Grill again.

You could say it’d become our place. Only the serving staff would recognize us as “those two guys that always come in together” instead of our rightful title as a couple.

We still couldn’t be who we are, even in a familiar place.

But that’s a different gripe for another day.

On this particular day, the problem was about Kayden and his chances at becoming the Toronto Maple Leafs’ latest prospect.

In this case, I was the problem. I know, I know.

Usually, it was just Kayden acting like a horse’s ass.

Now I was the one in the wrong, and it felt so weird.

But I’ll tell you what: When I’m in the wrong, I’m more than willing to admit it.

That’s exactly what I did as he chowed down on a double order of wings.

Of course, my boyfriend ate his wings in his customary way: like a total neanderthal. He jammed a full wing into his mouth, and what he pulled back was mostly clean bone.

Thank God no civilized person I knew was anywhere near us. What a sight that would’ve been!

I almost worried I couldn’t distract him, but I had something eating a hole in my conscience. I needed to get it out before it drove me crazy.

“I owe you an apology,” I said.

And he looked up at me with a sauce-splattered face. God, he had no shame.

“Really, what for?” he asked, tossing another clean bone onto the growing stack.

“For getting so snippy when you said you’d heard from that Leafs scout. What was his name? Larry Peterson?”

“Leon Purvis.”

“Yeah, Leon Purvis. Anyway, that was a seriously big deal for you. You had every right to feel excited about it. I should’ve been more supportive and I wasn’t, so I’m sorry.”

He had this look of amazement that said he was shocked that anyone would’ve had the humility to come right out and admit something like that. Call me an old-fashioned farm boy if you want—I’ll wear it proudly—but I believe in being accountable, even when it’s inconvenient.

“Bro,” he said, “I never expected you to come right out and say that.”

“Me either.”

“I wish I had witnesses.”

I suppressed a laugh. “Why? You think I’ll go back on it or something?”

“No, I just want to remember where I was the first time you admitted to being wrong about…anything.”

“Once I thought about it, I realized I was wrong. That’s not so hard.”

“So, what had you all worked up about me hearing from the Maple Leafs? Jealous or something?”

“It’s not that I’m jealous. My time will come. I’ve worked hard, and I’m determined as hell. I’ve just got to be patient and good things will happen.”

“You’re jealous.”

“I didn’t even imply that I’m jealous.”

“Yeah, yeah, you did. But you were the bigger person, and I pushed my limits. I’m sorry.”

“Now who’s apologizing?”

I smiled at him. He smiled back. Goddamn, I swear to you that “sexy as hell” isn’t a big enough phrase to describe the look on my boyfriend's face at that moment. That look reminded me of why I’d let Kayden get away with so much in the first place.

“I think I was just put on edge by other issues,” I said.

“Like what?” Kayden had a genuinely curious expression now, which meant I needed to have a good response.

“Let’s say you’re drafted.”

“What’s this ‘let’s say’ shit? I’m gonna get drafted. That’s a given.”

“Okay, you’re gonna get drafted, hands down, period, nothing could possibly stand in the way of it. That’s gonna put a real strain on us, won’t it?”

“Ohhhh, I get it. Because a pro team, even in the minors, will account for even more of my time than the Larkin Lions ever have?”

“Well, sort of, but not exactly.”

“And you’re worried I won’t have time for you—for us—anymore.”

“By the way, I’m fully expecting to get drafted too. You know, sooner or later.”

“By the Leafs? What are the odds of that?”

I paused. That was my point exactly, only I didn’t want to admit it just then. It was all hypothetical at that moment, so I couldn’t say one way or another. Kayden continued eating his wings, but even he had to know the conversation wasn’t truly over yet.

“I guess what I’m really trying to say is that if I do get drafted, it’ll be by another team,” I said.

“Yeah, like the Sabres or Bruins or Flyers. Being in the same division would be the closest thing to being as cool as us playing for the same team.”

“Only we wouldn’t be on the same team.”

He lifted his eyebrow a little.

“We’d be rivals,” I said. “And there’s no guarantee it’ll even be a team from the same division.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And there’s more. Even if I am drafted by one of them, one of us might be in the big leagues and the other stuck in the minors. We’ll always be apart.”

He paused again, this time grabbing his napkin, wiping his face and fingers.

For the first time, the full implications and realities of this seemed to hit home for him.

I didn’t mean to burst his bubble or anything.

I’m the optimist here, not the pessimist, at least as far as I was concerned.

And yet, I couldn’t help but consider these points.

Think about it. He could be playing at Madison Square Garden in New York City while I was playing in some arena that no one had ever heard of. We could call and text, but life as we knew it would so change.

I’ll tell you something: I didn’t know if I was prepared for that. After all the time we’d spent together and everything we’d shared, I worried I couldn’t handle being without him.

“I get what you’re saying,” he said.

“I don’t want you to misunderstand me. I’m not saying it’s going to spell doom, but it won’t be easy, and now’s the time to start thinking about it.”

“You think this could eventually spell doom for us, don’t you?”

He reached across the table and cupped his hands over mine. Then he pulled back, realizing how that would’ve looked had anyone in the bar glanced at our table. Gestures like that had become second nature for him already.

My boyfriend looked a little frightened, like he knew he’d nearly let the cat out of that bag after only so much provocation. On the other hand, he didn’t seem alarmed by the potential roadblock in our path.

“Okay,” he said, “even if it doesn’t spell doom, it’s going to be really hard for us.”

“Right.”

“But when you think about it, it’s not all bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’m with the Leafs, we could make it work. I guess I would be living around Toronto, even if I’m playing for one of their minor league affiliates. And hey, you’ve already got the right to live in Canada. There’s no reason we couldn’t get a place of our own north of the border.”

And then explain why we both live together when we’ve never come out , I thought but kept it to myself.

“Yes, there is,” I said. “You could be in Toronto, but I could be living in Los Angeles. Or Dallas. Or Columbus. Or who knows where else. And god forbid we ever have to square off against each other on the ice. I don’t want to have to hand you your ass in a totally different way.”

Kayden arched his eyebrows. “Oh, ho, ho, you really want to get into that, huh?”

When he talked like that, my boyfriend was always ninety-nine percent kidding. The one percent was because he was too competitive for that fire to die completely.

“Of course I do,” I said. “Winning’s everything, isn’t it?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Winning isn't everything? Are you crazy?”

“Nope. Winning isn't everything; it’s the only thing.”

I couldn’t help laughing at that. My boyfriend wasn’t known for his sense of humor. If he could be legitimately funny during any kind of tense or contentious moment, I would absolutely take it.

“I will say one thing,” he said, “and I’m not trying to be a jerk, but sometimes you put the cart before the horse.”

“Like, I worry about things before I really need to?”

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. It had always been a problem for me. Even knowing that, I couldn’t help forecasting the obstacles that would come.

“The smartest thing we can do is set this aside,” he said. “At least for now.”

“Are you serious? But that’ll just…”

“I know how it sounds, but trust me on this. It’s not that I want to avoid things. It’s just that what you’re describing is only a what if . And it could be a long way away. Don’t confuse what’s possible with what’s likely.”

“Now you sound like a self-help seminar.”

“I know you’re joking, but what you're describing isn’t in the immediate future. That’s only if I get drafted.

“You’ve acted like that was a given.”

“It ought to be a given, but I haven’t lost touch with reality, bro. We probably need to win a championship to guarantee getting drafted, right?”

“Okay.”

“And by the way, let’s not forget the more immediate business at hand. Winning a championship. We’re almost there, and we’ve worked too hard to risk having that chance slip between our fingers.”

He was right about that part, and I hated it. But I couldn’t deny that success was something that could tear us apart. At that moment, I wished for nothing more than to suspend time so Kayden and I could be together as Larkin Lions forever.

If only that wish could come true.