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“You wait. The day I make it to the NHL, I’m going to sin bin you on principle.”
Connor is an amazing best friend, and then here’s me, monster crush on his little brother, and in his own words, Connor will kill anyone who touches him.
“I don’t get my Oompa Loompas? That will make my purple Willy Wonka suit look ridiculous.” “The fact you can tell between the ridiculous purple suit with tails and any of the other loud suits you have in your closet is concerning, but the Oompa Loompa thing actually stays. They all loved the ‘theme idea.’” He uses air quotes. “Not realizing it’s you wanting to look like a dictator.”
Oppressing someone with love is still oppression. Even if it’s because they want to protect us.
and the man I’ve been in love with since I was about twelve years old.
And now, here he is, number 61 because neither of us ever imagined being picked up by our home team Colorado, where number 19 is retired, thanks to Joe Sakic being a legend. Connor tells people it’s upside down because that’s how all the ladies read it while they’re riding his face.
And when I’d messaged the profile with a simple word: “Knox?” He’d replied with, “Easton Persephone Wayne Gretzky Ann Kikishkin. What are you doing on here and does your brother know?”
Connor gives me a noogie. “What’s up, little brother?” Asher leans around him. “Say the word. I know a few hit men who could take him out.”
“Hey, has Connor told you all about the time Easton wrote to Lea Michelle from Glee, asking her to marry him?” “I still can’t believe I didn’t realize he was gay sooner,” Connor adds.
Plus, Ezra is here. Nothing they have on me could come close to Ezra … existing.
“Now that we’ve established Knox is butt-ugly, can you all stop hitting on him?” Easton asks.
“Finally got away from your sex jailer, huh?” “Ooh, I had one of those before,” Oskar joins in. “It’s fun until it’s not.”
“There is no sexual tension. I flirt with him, and he pats my head like I’m five years old and says something ridiculous.”
“Welcome to my slut era,” East slurs and takes another shot. “I’m gonna slut it right up. Puck bucks beware, Easton Kikikishinkis is on the market.” “Kishikin,” I correct. Kind of.
“Eastkinshin?” I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore.
“I dunno, I’m pretty good at helping men find God. You’d know that if you weren’t somehow immune to all my offers.”
“Call me a good boy again.” “You’re the fucking worst.”
“I’ve wanted to bone you since I was twelve years old. Well. Not bone. Because twelve. But crush. Total crush.”
“All my notebooks were scribbled with Knox Kishkikin.” “Why do I have to take your name?” “Because it’s awesome. Duh.” “We can’t even say it.” He flexes his jaw a couple of times. “Mouth won’t work right.” “Mouth is saying a lot of things.”
“Am I scaring you? With my widdle crush? Oh no, Connor’s brother wants my penis. He’s been picturing us getting married and buying a house in the suburbs and having two dogs and an ice rink in the backyard.” I hate how perfect that sounds, except for one part. “I’m allergic to dogs.” “We’ll have kids, then.”
“I don’t think Fifi or Mr. Box Head is legal for bebes.” “It’d start some conversations though.” “Not sure they’re the kind of talkies we’d want to have. Ohh!” East pulls up like he’s just thought of something. “Drunk wedding in Vegas!”
“We’re here. We’re drunk. And it’d piss off Connor. My three favorite things. Yay!”
“I remember when you were eleven and got a ring out of a cereal box and wore it every day for a month, then you and Lachie got into a fight, and he broke it on you. So you let the air out of his bike tires.” “It was my Stanley Cup ring!” Stanley Cup? “It was cheap plastic with a purple heart on the top.” “But it was my cheap plastic with a purple heart on the top. He was just a dick.”
“I don’t even want to think about what my brother was telling his cock. Think the song was for getting it going? That’s it, baby, let those colors burst.” The image is both hilarious and traumatizing. “Shoot it all over the sky, you dirty thing.”
I’d say the only reason he rejected you is because of your brother. Or because you were drunk. And we love a king of consent.”
“Put your account on private.” Apparently, that’s not the answer he’s after. “So I don’t get to share this life that I love because people don’t know boundaries?”
The second our lips touch, I’m terrified because that’s all the time it takes to know that I’ve made the worst mistake of my life. East’s lips are as soft as I always thought they would be. He melts in my hold the way I imagined. His jaw fits in my hand with the exact perfection I’d always assumed it would, and as we kiss, as my guts fill with helium and my heart feels too big to contain, I work out that there’s only one thing worse than your dream man being nothing like you thought he would be. And that’s your dream man being everything you imagined.
When my twenty-something-year-old cat died, who my parents had before I was born, instead of offering me the sympathy Connor did, he’d flicked me a look and said, “Feline sad? Wanna go out right meow and drown your sorrows?”
