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“Really not going to say anything, huh?” he finally asks. Rossi looks over. “What, are we supposed to act surprised?” “You knew?” The four of them exchange looks, and Simms cocks his head. “Wait, did you guys think you were subtle?”
“You forget I was friends with Foster, and Beck and Jacobs, and Cohen. I’ve given up assuming people are straight, and you two have been behaving just like those other idiots.”
“No offense, man, but none of us want to know about your sex life. That’s a strictly kiss and don’t tell situation.” “Pity,” Asher says, and his tone gives me a split-second warning. “Because Kole sucks the best dick. You guys have no idea what you’re missing.”
“You’re going to have to try way harder than that these days,” Simms says. “I’m sure I can come up with something.” “What, you can get even more unpleasant?” “I can try,” Asher taunts.
Knowing how much Asher likes to continue the act of keeping up his guard, there’s nothing more fun than pointing out how amazing he is in front of other people.
“I’m surprised that went so well,” I say. “I’m not. You plus me equals perfection.” “I think I’m beginning to understand why you were failing math.”
“Even in the hard moments, being with you is easy.”
“Either you’ve contracted some deadly disease that’s messing with your thoughts, or … you’re in love with me.” The smile slides from his face, and he cups my cheeks in the way that I love. “Definitely the second.”
I’ve always been a pretty happy person, but this, right here, is a whole new level of happy. “I really love you,” I breathe. “Yeah, Kole.” He clears his throat. “I really love you too.”
Somewhere in there, we’re heading up to Montreal to catch Foster Grant play,
Kole is my future.
“Because with you, I don’t have the need to hide who I am. I don’t have to pretend to be strong. I don’t need to do stupid shit to prove I can’t be hurt. All of that excess anger I was keeping inside that would erupt in forms of self-destruction aren’t there when I’m with you, and it’s not because of anything you do or say. It’s because I’m my true self around you. No pretenses.”
We meet the guys out in the parking lot—Rossi, Simms, Kaplan, Beck, and Jacobs are coming, and when we get up there, we’re meeting Cohen, who’s a PR assistant for the Montreal team. He scored us tickets to the game.
And as we dump our stuff in our room and head downstairs, my old line mate stands to greet me with a hug while his boyfriend scowls at me. It’s cute because Seth Grant is not an intimidating guy.
Cohen still has his kind face and goofy grin. “Rumor has it you’ve stopped being an asshole this year, but I told Beck he’s full of shit because I didn’t think that was possible.” “I’m a delightful human being, you complete cockwomble.”
He loves me even when I’m an asshole.” I pull Kole closer. “Unfortunately, that’s true.” My boyfriend sighs.
Cohen holds up his drink. “To line mates, old and new.”
I never realized how important true friendship was until I met Kole. They’re an escape from all the shit that drags me down.
Cohen scored us seats in the fourth row, really close to the ice, and Foster Grant’s partner is already there waiting for us. Cohen kisses Seth on his cheek and leaves to get to work while we settle in.
Hopefully one day he’ll meet someone who’ll be there for him the way Kole is for me.
The ice is my future, but so is the guy right next to me.
When we get back to the hotel and I lay him out beneath me, I can see this. Us. For the rest of my life.
