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Apparently, the cure to toxic masculinity is to show them how it feels to be talked about like a piece of meat. You’re welcome, ladies.
I blink. Then blink again. How drunk am I? Did I hear him right, or is my mind playing tricks on me? “Y-you’re not? How did I not know this, and why haven’t we had sex yet if that’s the case?”
I take it back. The third worst thing is being cornered by Philly fans. Second worst thing is being saved by someone I hate. But the worst thing by far is realizing that for years I’ve thought the tension between Anton and me came from a place of resentment. It turns out it’s because I want to fuck Anton Hayes. I did not see that coming.
“Hey, I can be a decent human being and be full of shit at the same time, thank you very much. It’s called multitasking.”
“Don’t make me give you more compliments. I’ll never survive it.” The truth is, he’s hot. I’ve always found him hot. That’s part of the reason why I notice all the dumb shit he does.
“Relax, Hayes. I know your rules.” “Anton.” “What?” I swallow hard. “You can at least use my first name if you’re going to fuck me.” “I use your first name all the time.” “No, you use my first name when you’re teasing me, otherwise it’s always with my last name. Even tonight, when you introduced me to your friends. It was Anton Hayes. Not Anton.”
“I don’t want to be the reason the world as you know it unravels.” “That … might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Where I should be jealous or bitter that it was Anton who did it, there’s none of that. I’m actually … proud.
shower, but if things tonight go the way
People. Relationships. Love. I don’t want any of it. Except when he leans over and presses a kiss to the top of my head, I’m starting to suspect that I really, really do.
I’m going to end up liking him a whole lot more than that. I’m scared I already do.
“You look so sexy when you’re trying not to deck someone.” “Why do I always need to remind you who you belong to?”
If I didn’t like it, I’d tell you. But so far, I’m loving every minute of it, Hay—Anton.” “Even though it’s me?” “Especially because it’s you.”
“Nope.” He pinches my chin and leans in, dark eyes locked with mine. “No joking. You are an awesome person, Ez. And while we do this thing, you’re also my person. If anyone says that shit to you, they get to face both of us.”
His pouty face is pouty. I poke his cheek. “Are you sulking?” “She thought you were hot.” “And?” “And? You’re mine.”
“You’re not a fuckboy, but you act like one because deep down you don’t want to feel the rejection your parents inflicted on you your whole life. You treat people as disposable so they can’t do it to you first.”
Ezra is mine.
“You’re smiling.” “Why wouldn’t I be?” Ezra studies me for a moment. “I, uh, I like when you smile.”
A long silence stretches and then, “I like … you,” he finally says.
“Because no one knows you like I do.” Instead of kissing him like I want to, I give him a small smile. “You’re my fuckboy now.”
I didn’t have the courage last night to put my feelings on the line, but I’d rather tell you a thousand times and have you reject me than lose you because I didn’t have the guts to say six simple words: I want to be with you.” I lower my forehead to his. “I’m sorry.” Anton breathes in and closes his eyes. “That’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
I race my boyfriend to the bathroom. Wow. My boyfriend.
“Ignore my boyfriend. He’s the superstitious type.” My eyes widen, but he keeps going. “But I do know I wouldn’t be having such a great season if he wasn’t there on the ice with me.” I don’t think this has ever happened before … but I’m completely speechless.
“I love you.” “You know I love you too, right?” “Actually, I do.
