Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
But yeah, the online stuff with him was personal in a different way. And if I was sleeping over at his place, it would look to others like we’re more than friends—something I don’t want to deal with either three months before the cup finals, so I guess he’s right.
“No worries,” Mom says as we meet in the middle of the living room.
I kiss her cheek, then look over her shoulder toward my dad, who’s following behind with his cane.
“Hey, son.”
“Hey, Dad.” I give him a hug. It’s been so nice having them here. Between the hockey season and the time I’m spending with Hayes, we don’t get to see each other as much as I’d like, but I’m glad they’re close. They come over to see me often, or we’ll meet for lunch, and it feels nice to be around family.
“So when do we get to meet this friend of yours?” Mom asks as we automatically make our way toward the deck.
That will likely never happen. Hayes always makes sure to leave before they arrive. I’ve told him more than once that as my friend, there’s no reason he can’t meet my parents—Mads is a friend and knows them—but Hayes worries they’ll take one look at us and know we spend a lot of time naked together. I figure that’s because he’s never had a friends-with-benefits situation before. So much of what we’re doing is new for Hayes.
“I’m not sure. He’s pretty busy.” I pull out one of the chairs at the outside table to make it easier for Dad to sit down.
“You ready for the game against Columbus tomorrow?” Dad asks.
“You know it. Your tickets will be there waiting for you.” My parents try to go to as many of my home games as they can when they’re in LA. I still haven’t been able to get Hayes to come to one yet, but I do know he’s been watching every one of my games. In the beginning he tried to hide it, but things have shifted some since that first night he slept over. He’d make random comments about a goal I scored, about me stealing the puck or a hit I took. Now when I tease him about being my biggest fan and watching my games, he just blushes and tells me to shut up. It’s cute as fuck.
“This should be a win for the Rebels. Especially if you keep playing the way you have the past couple of months.”
I grin at my dad’s praise. My good-luck charm has definitely been doing his job.
“Last time you played Columbus, Tibbs got two minutes for clipping you high. Should have been a match penalty. I hate that guy,” Mom grumbles.
I nudge her playfully with my arm. “He better be careful, or I’ll send you after him.”
“He better not mess with my son,” she replies, and the three of us laugh together.
I get up and grab everyone a bottle of water from the outdoor fridge. “You sound like Hayes. He wasn’t much of a hockey fan before we met. He doesn’t know a lot about the sport. When I ended up with that black eye after the game in Edmonton, he was fretting like I was going to have to get something amputated.” I chuckle at the memory. He’d held ice to my head all evening, and when we fucked, he’d griped at me every time he thought I moved too much. I don’t know why he thought I was going to die over a black eye, but I enjoyed being spoiled.
As I set their drinks down, I notice my parents looking at each other in a curious way.
“What?” I sit down.
“You sure do spend a lot of time with this Hayes guy,” Mom says.
“We’re friends.” I shrug.
Dad gives me his thoughts next. “You know it’s okay if you’re more than friends, right? We’ve known you’re bisexual for a long time, and we’ve never had a problem with that. We hope you know that’s true.”
Mom continues. “We just wonder because you’ve never introduced us to a boyfriend before. We don’t ever want you to feel like knowing and seeing are two different things. And now you’re spending all this time with Hayes, yet he’s never at your games or here when we come over.”
My head spins, my body slightly woozy. “Hayes isn’t my boyfriend.”
“You talk about him a lot,” Dad points out.
I do? I guess it would make sense that I do, but that’s just because he’s become such a big part of my life. We do spend a lot of time together. “I talk about Mads, and you’ve never thought he was my boyfriend.”
“That’s because you’ve actually let us see you with Kason, and it’s obvious there’s nothing there. Plus, you don’t talk about him the way you talk about Hayes.”