Page 14

The ride home is quiet. There’s still a lot of traffic because of the thousands of people leaving the arena right now. It’s fine. I take the time to work myself out of the mood the game has put me in. At least my condo building is quiet when I arrive.

I find myself thinking about my parents and what it’ll be like to take Arush home to meet them.

My chest tightens at the thought, and I glance down at the asexual band on my wrist. Like most people, my parents have never commented on it.

I suspect they presume it’s a fashion statement and why wouldn’t they?

I’ve never told them I’m asexual. I’d like to say it’s never come up in conversation, but in reality, I don’t think it’s something that needs to be shared with my parents. My preference and sexual needs—or lack thereof—aren’t exactly something I need to share with my family.

However, bringing home a guy? That’s a different thing entirely. I’m not hiding my asexuality. There’s simply no need to make it anyone’s business but my own. But keeping Arush a secret is hiding him.

My gut tells me that no matter what, they’re going to love and support me.

That doesn’t mean I'm not nervous. I can scream I’m not gay at the top of my lungs—which is accurate; I’m bisexual.

But that doesn’t matter. Being romantically involved with a man isn’t widely accepted in my hometown, never mind in the Bible Belt of the South.

As I haul my bag to the door, I know I’ll find Arush waiting for me just inside.

The thought is comforting, and I let that soothe my concerns for now.

There will be plenty of time to fret over telling my family about Arush.

I’m looking forward to his shy smile. The way our fingers brush as he takes my gear bag from me to deposit in the laundry room.

I don’t need him to do that. I’ve tried to make that clear. But I love it all the same. I love knowing he missed me and can’t wait for me to get home. How he unburdens me so that my attention is on him as soon as it can be.

My stomach flutters at the thought and I wonder if he’ll ever stop waiting for me at the door. I hope not.

The key in the lock twists easily, and I push the door open.

Just as I thought he would be, Arush is there.

His presence brings an immediate smile to my face.

It’s a welcome relief from the frustration of the game I just left.

Not that I think we could have won if that last penalty wasn’t bullshit, but we’d have been closer if we didn’t end with a Columbus power play, letting them score another goal.

We’re shit at power plays. I swear, as soon as one is called, the team instantly feels like they’re going to let a goal by. Statistically, it happens less than it succeeds, but it feels more frequent than not.

Tonight is a little different. Arush’s smile isn’t shy but huge.

As soon as I’m in the door, he rushes for me and wraps his arms around my neck with excitement.

I’m so startled that I drop my bag and his legs come up to wrap around me.

Instinctively, I grip under his thighs to keep him from falling.

“Those goals were so amazing, Julian,” Arush says excitedly, hugging me fiercely. “One right after another. Boom. Boom. It was magic. The coolest thing ever. Did you hear the crowd yelling your name?”

He doesn’t give me a chance to answer his question as he continues to gush. As he does, I grin because he watched my game. He watched me play tonight.

“They were chanting for like two solid minutes. It was so great, too. Whoosh . I could practically hear the puck as it slid right by that goalie. Columbus was so pissed. The goalie even hit the bar on the net.” He laughs.

I realize he didn’t just watch tonight’s game. He understood what he saw. He followed along. My chest heats at the thought.

“Then that stupid penalty. It was so ridiculous. That guy pushed you first! You nearly fell. You shouldn’t have had a penalty. They wouldn’t have scored again if you hadn’t been unfairly punished. It’s crap.”

By this point, I’m grinning widely. When he takes a breath, I say, “You watched my game.”

Arush leans back to look at me. His dark eyes meet mine almost shyly. “I watch all your games. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on all the time, but I’m learning.”

There aren’t enough words in the English language to tell him what that means to me. I just stare into his eyes.

I think we both become aware of the position we’re in right now. His fingers had been moving at the base of my head, running through the fuzz of where my hair is growing out, but they freeze. Our faces are a breath apart. I can feel his exhales on my skin. I can smell his shampoo and body wash.

Arush licks his lips. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… do this.”

I shake my head slightly. “I love your enthusiasm for my game tonight. Even though we lost.”

He immediately gets fired up again. “But you might not have if they hadn’t called that stupid penalty! You might have gotten another goal. And another and tied it. You were on a roll.”

A grin spreads across my face again. His frustration on my behalf is endearing.

“Maybe,” I say, though unlikely. I probably would have gotten off the ice for a break with or without the penalty called.

Arush leans forward and then takes a deep breath. It feels like a kiss might be jumping very far ahead in our incredibly slow pace, but I take that chance anyway and press my lips to his. It’s light, just the touch of our lips together in a moment that feels huge and pure and stolen in time.

It doesn’t get deeper than that. Our mouths don’t even move together. Just our lips remaining softly pressed against one another.

My heart races. I close my eyes and feel the magic spin around us, weaving this moment in time into a tapestry that will hold all kinds of key moments in our lives together. It’ll hang around us, always reminding us where we started. How we began. What we’ve grown into.

Right here, right now, at this very moment, the story of us has truly begun.