Lane dropped his hands. “Be on the ice. With, umm. The team. Maybe just a game or two. But still.” Lane pointed again. “That team.”
Jared was reading the contract like a hockey player, so that meant he was skimming it for the important parts. “This is amazing, Lane. Wow. Also, did you sign this? I don’t think you’re supposed to keep the original.”
Ah. That must be why Lane’s phone kept ringing in his pants pocket. Oops.
Jared set the contract down on the counter and then moved the plate of cheese toast he’d made for Lane away from it, like it wasn’t worthy. “You should say it. Come on. I saw it, so it’s real.”
“Maybe we’re both delusional,” Lane suggested, reaching for the toast. Being delusional and shell-shocked didn’t mean he wasn’t hungry.
“People who aren’t delusional don’t play a contact sport for a living.” Jared patted him on the shoulder encouragingly. “But I retired, so that means I’m sane, and you, Lane Courtnall, are going to play hockey for the Toronto Maple Leafs.”
“The Marlies. That’s where I’m going, to the Marlies.” Lane brightened. “I said that part. So I can probably say the other one here, in a minute.”
“Maybe you need more cheese toast. But we’re out of bread.”
“I bet it would work if you sucked me off,” Lane suggested. He was always hungry
and
horny. “It won’t take very long,” he promised.
“Does it ever?” Jared rolled his eyes. “But okay. Yeah. I can do that. You want to look at that contract while I’m on my knees for you. Don’t you? Don’t lie.”
Lane blinked and then grinned. He could probably say it now actually.
I’m going to play for the Leafs.
It wasn’t certain by a long shot, and it was possible he could get traded from the Marlies before he played, but Lane wasn’t thinking about that just then.
He was thinking about Jared mouthing at his cock through his suit pants and how he should probably answer his phone and
sign
the contract. And yeah, okay. Speaking of the contract, maybe he was looking at that. At least until Jared put his mouth on him. And for the moment, that was all Lane wanted to see.
LANE CALLED
his parents later that afternoon, and he realized it was time to put all that shit from the last year behind him. To ignore the sacrifices his parents made for him to get to that level was ungrateful, and he knew it. He didn’t want to be just as shortsighted as he was accusing his parents of being.
It was also time to tell them about Jared. There was no worry or anxiety about it, because Lane didn’t have any. If his parents did, they would need to work that out themselves.
“Hey, Mom. Could you put dad on the phone too?”
“Honey, I’m on my cell phone. This isn’t an episode of
Full House
. Also, your father is at work. It’s the middle of the afternoon.”
Lane cleared his throat. “Oh. Right. I have some news.”
For the first time in his life, Lane heard his mother shriek. It wasn’t all that loud, but it was still pretty respectable. “So, I’ll be headed back to Ontario in a few weeks.”
“Lane, I don’t even know what to say,” his mother said, her voice shaking. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”
That made Lane smile. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you and dad.”
“Stop that,” his mother chided him. “We didn’t do anything but nurture the talent you were given, Lane.”
“And we’re Canadian,” Lane reminded her. “Hockey’s like religion and stuff.”
His mom gave a small, quiet laugh. “And we’re Canadian. Your father might be at work, but I imagine the entire plant would want to hear about this. You should call him.”
“I will, but mom? There’s something else I have to tell you.”
“Of course, sweetie. Do you need your father and me to come get you? I’m sure you’ll want to say good-bye to your friends. Are any of them coming with you?” His mom sounded hopeful.
“One of them is,” Lane said, and he could see Jared watching him from the couch while pretending he was playing a video game. “His name’s Jared Shore.”
“The player from the Renegades who blocked your shot during the conference finals?”
Hockey parents, man. “That’s him. Yeah.”
“Oh my God. Did they just recognize me as the guy that ruined your shot?” Jared asked in a whisper. And when Lane refused to answer him, Jared took that for the answer it was and threw his arms up in the air in victory.
“That’s the funny thing about rivals,” his mom said. “The next day they’ll end up on your team. That’s why you have to be nice to people, Lane.”
Lane covered up a laugh with a cough. He was 1000 percent sure that by “be nice to,” his mom didn’t mean “sleep with.” “Yeah, but he’s not my teammate. He’s retired actually. He’s my boyfriend.”
It was so easy to say it, and Lane felt stupid for not having done it sooner. Jared went back to pretending he wasn’t listening, and Lane’s mother was still quiet. But Lane just kept talking. Sometimes you had to rely on your strengths.
“Zoe and I were never dating. She’s actually dating my teammate, Ryan. My roommate… or former roommate.” Ryan had, a few weeks before, moved in with Zoe. Lane wasn’t sure how he felt about it, but they seemed happy. Ryan confessed he’d slept on the couch a time or two, and Lane thought that was a pretty good sign.
“The one with no manners?” His mother sounded disapproving.
“He has manners,” Lane told her. “He’s from Toronto.”
“Being Canadian does not mean you have manners, Lane.” His mother’s voice sounded weird, like she was crying again. Just not because she was happy that time.
Lane waited for that to make him angry, but it didn’t. He was just sad that she couldn’t be happy for him about that, too. “I know, Mom.” He waited to see if she would say anything else, but she didn’t. “We’ve been together for the whole season, so it’s not new or anything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Lane,” his mother said quietly. Lane could hear her sniffling.
“You have to admit I have great timing, though,” Lane told her, hoping to hear her laugh, at least a little. “I waited until I could tell you I was going to play for the Leafs to tell you that I was gay.”
Silence. Lane sighed. “Still think I should call dad?”
“Yes, of course,” she told him. There was something in her voice that gave Lane the slightest bit of hope. Which was ruined by her next words. “Maybe don’t tell him… all of your news.”
“What, so he can be happy before he thinks I’m a failure?” Lane’s voice got a little snappy. He couldn’t help it. “How about this. You tell him. Okay? And if he wants to call me, he can. I love you. I love dad too. I’m sorry that loving Jared makes you disappointed in me, but I meant what I said about being grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Tell him that too.”
After a few moments, Lane ended the call. He walked over, straddled Jared on the couch, and took the controller out of his hands. He put his head in the space between Jared’s neck and shoulder and breathed for a moment without saying anything.
Jared put his arms around him. Lane could tell he was trying to get the controller to keep playing the game. He snorted a laugh against Jared’s neck. “I bet girls don’t do this.”
“They would if they were about to beat the Red Wings on the medium-difficulty level.” Jared paused the game and then ran his hands up Lane’s side. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. I’m going with you anyway.”
“Yeah. I did. I had to do it for me.”
“Oh, I see.” Jared nodded, fingers edging under Lane’s T-shirt to skim over his hips, thumbs rubbing at the indentations there. “You get it when it’s
you
. You do know why I’m using this heavily ironic tone of voice. Right?”
Lane made a face. “I guess it’s kinda like when you retired or something.”
“I would pinch you, Courtnall, but you don’t have any body fat.” Jared kissed him instead, and then bit him on the mouth.
“I know. You’re going to be a hockey wife, or whatever. So you have to make sure I have food.” Lane bit him back. “I’m bringing in all the income. Or I will be. Maybe. Whatever. I liked that cheese toast. With sauce it would be just like pizza.”
“Is everyone in Canada as weird as you?”
Lane shrugged. “I don’t know. People thought I was weird in Canada too. Other Canadians, I mean.”
“Mr. International,” Jared joked and started biting his neck. “Want to go fuck?”
“Yes,” Lane said immediately. “Yes. I do. What about your game, though?”
Jared looked over Lane’s shoulder at the game, which was on pause, and then back at Lane. “I guess you could be on my team, and we could finish them off and
then
go fuck,” he suggested.
Lane didn’t think being gay was any kind of choice or decision he made, but if it was? Right then, he was pretty glad he’d made it.
A FEW
nights later, Lane sat up in bed and shook Jared’s shoulder. It was two in the morning, and they’d both been asleep. Or Jared had, because every time Lane drifted off, he thought about the contract and woke up again.
The contract, which he’d signed, and very sheepishly brought back to his agent. He sent a copy home to his parents, whom he hadn’t heard from. Whenever he couldn’t believe it was real, he found the picture of the original contract on his phone and stared at it.
That had been Jared’s idea. Jared was smart about things, and he was nice about indulging Lane’s idiosyncrasies. Like right then, he didn’t even punch Lane in the mouth when Lane woke him from a deep sleep and said, “J, hey. Wake up. I just thought of something.”
“God help us all,” Jared muttered, blinking sleepily at him. “What is it? Also. Do you know what I just thought of? We need a bigger bed. This one is terrible. Why are we sleeping on it?”
Lane’s bed was a full-size mattress that was barely big enough for
him
, but he wasn’t thinking about that. “No. That’s not what I’m thinking about.”
“I know. It’s what
I’m
thinking about.”
“Wait your turn.” Lane stared at him. Jared stared back.
“Am I supposed to guess what occurred to you in the middle of the night, because I’m about 100 percent sure that’s impossible.”
Lane ignored him. “We give magic presents, J,” he said.
“Is that a code word for blowjobs?”
“Huh? No,” Lane scowled. “That’s dumb. Why would we need a code word for blowjobs?”
Jared groaned and pulled the pillow over his face. “I wish you could see the look on my face right now. And that’s not me saying ‘turn on the light, Lane’ either.”
“It’s okay. I’ve seen it before. Your face and the look you get on it sometimes.” Lane shook his shoulder again. “But we do give magic presents.”
“Are you asleep? Or a Smurf? I can’t even deal with you.”
“Yes. You can.” Lane grabbed at the pillow, and Jared wouldn’t let him have it. There was a brief scuffle, and Lane half fell off the bed. “Maybe we do need a bigger bed.”
Jared laughed. “Nice reference,” he said and then sighed very loudly. “You don’t get that. Do you?”
“I’ve seen
Jaws
, moron. It just didn’t make any sense. There aren’t any sharks in here.”
“You’re
killing
me, Courtnall.” Jared rolled over on his stomach. “Go back to sleep and dream about magic presents.”
Lane hit him on the shoulder again. “Listen. I got you a book about Patrick Roy. Right? And you did that glove save thing,
just like a goalie
. And you get in fights like Roy. But that’s probably not because of a magic present.”
“When I wake up tomorrow, I’m not going to believe that we had this conversation.”
“And,” Lane continued, focused, “You gave me a Leafs hoodie. And where am I playing?”
“Check that picture on your phone. Again,” Jared muttered, face pressed against the mattress. Lane had won the pillow battle.
Which was good, because he could hit Jared with it. “The Leafs. I’m playing for the Leafs.”
“Yes. And it only took you two days to say it.” Jared grabbed his wrist, but he made a noise and then said, “Wait. You’re right. Maybe we do give magic presents.”
“That’s what I said. See?” Lane settled back down again. “We can go back to sleep now.”
He thought Jared had done just that when he heard a sound, and then Jared giggled. “I just remembered something.”
“About blowjobs?”
“Sometimes you worry me, Courtnall.” Jared sat up, tossed the covers back, and climbed out of bed. He then tripped over something, cursed, and ran into Lane’s closet.
“It’s a good thing you retired,” Lane said yawning. “Or that we don’t play hockey in the dark. Can you come back here? I’m tired.”
“One second.” There was another crashing noise, and then the room flooded with light.
Lane made an affronted noise and pulled the pillow over his head. He ignored Jared’s “oh sorry were you trying to sleep?” and waited for the light to go back off. It didn’t, but he felt Jared sit down on the bed next to him. “I forgot that I got you something.”
“When?”
“On my way here. It’s a present. You reminded me of it, which I guess says something about you being useful
and
annoying.” Jared thumped him though the pillow. “It’s a present, dickhead. Wake up.”
“Is it a sex present?”
“Oh God, no. Just—look, can we get this over with?” Jared’s voice sounded strained. “It’s a good thing you told me about this in the middle of the night, because if not, I would have been too embarrassed to actually give it to you. After all that nonsense about magic presents and shit.”
Lane removed the pillow, blinked at the harsh light, and ignored Jared pointing and laughing at his hair. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so annoyed next time when I wake you up.”
“Use your mouth next time, and maybe I won’t be.”
“I did. That’s how you talk.” Lane eyed him suspiciously. “That’s not what you meant, huh?”
Jared stared at the ceiling. “If I don’t give you this, will it negate the magic powers? Or is it enough that I bought it? Am I already doomed? I don’t know the answer to this.”
“Well, me neither. I just figured out we gave magic presents, not how they work.” Lane sat up. “Can I have it or what?”