Page 105 of Home Ice

Kayden is standing in front. The captain, leading his team like always. His left eyebrow is raised as he looks at Em beside me. What is it with everyone being able to do that except me? But then he turns to me, and his already smiling face grows even brighter. I just wish it was bright enough to blind me to the man standing beside him.

Brant's hair is sweaty and matted from his mask. His cheeks are still that pale pink they always get whenever he's been on the ice. But his eyes, that normally sparkle after a victory more than any gem I've ever seen, are depthless and still as they stare unblinking at me. "Did you see?"

I try to answer, but my throat feels like I've swallowed a boulder. It's not budging, no matter how many times I try to swallow around it. So I nod.

His eyes widen just a little. "You saw?"

"Not everything." Em answers. "Just the side of your helmet thing."

"Who 's this?" Kayden asks her. His lips are parted as he gapes at her.

"Not now, puck boy," she says, dismissing him with a wave. "The adults are having a discussion. Or they would if one of them would carry her own weight here." She nudges my arm.

I shoot her a look that feels like it should cause her to be frightened, but she just rolls her eyes. So I turn back to Brant. "You put Dad's lily on your mask?" I ask him.

"The state flower of Utah."

"And Dad's favorite flower. The reason I chose it for my name."

His lips curve up, and I can tell that he's nervous as he nods. "I had to go by memory. I hope I got it close enough to do it justice. Maxime... he's the one who designs all of my masks. I flew him down yesterday to get him to do it. I thought it looked close, but I was afraid I messed up some part of it when I sketched it for him."

"Flew him?"

"From Quebec City. That's where he's from. Um, anyway, I had him make a little change. I don't know if you noticed. I hope they're okay. Emory said she liked them when I texted her the picture." His voice is shaky.

"What change?"

Brant holds his mask up. Other than changing the colors at the center of the flower from red and yellow to pink and blue, it looks mostly identical to my dad's painting. "The petals. Maybe I shouldn't have done it."

I lean closer to look at the three triangular petals that each curve out to a point. "Hearts?" I didn't notice it before. The artist, Maxime, rounded the edges and notched each petal at its base to transform it into a heart. Three hearts growing from the center of the flower.

"I kind of thought it was maybe fate or destiny or one of those mystical things. There are three petals on the flower. Petals that look to me like hearts. And there are three of us. You, me, and Chloe. Our family. I figured Silver is probably the stamen or maybe the stem. I wanted to put your name on here. Big and right across the top, but I didn't want to pressure you. Now that I think about it, it's presumptuous to call us a family. It's just that… fuck, Lily. It's just that I know we are. And you do too. And… I'm rambling, but I want to say something that will make you understand how I feel."

I twist my head toward Em, but keep my eyes locked on Brant. "How much did you know?"

"Not important. You can yell at your boyfriend and me about his nefarious plan later. Once you make up and make him your boyfriend again. Now can we move this… herd somewhere else? The smell of sweat and athlete arrogance is making me nauseous." Beside Brant, I see Kayden's eyes flick back to Em and linger there for a second. Probably wondering what to make of her. It's a common reaction. Join everyone else who has ever met her.

"Did you see our sticks?" The entire team is piled up in the suddenly too crowded hallway, so I can't see who says it, but I could never mistake Sammy's voice. Especially not when he's excited, and right now he sounds like he's just heard the jangling tune of the ice cream truck turning onto his street. "You saw them, right? And the patches?"

I shake my head, but then I see the little patch sewn onto the shoulder of Brant's jersey. A sego lily, like the one on his helmet, but each petal is a different color. White, pale pink, baby blue. "You had patches made?" I ask Brant.

"I wanted to do special jerseys, but there wasn't time. I had to make sure you saw it before you left."

"But you're not allowed," I say. "The league?—"

"Would fine us. They will anyway for the patches." Just then, Sammy wheels the cart with all of their used game sticks. The blades and handles are covered in trans pride tape. "They'll fine us for the tape too. We don't care. We care about you, and we're not letting you leave because you're scared of what a couple bigots might say or do."

He reaches for me, but I take a step back. "What about you? What if they suspend you for doing this? What if those bigots take it out on you on the ice?"

Brant holds his palms up. "I've got a team full of brothers who will always have my back, and yours. And from talking to Milo, I think the couple of people who have a problem with it are learning that there isn't any room for their opinions. Sounds like the Denver dressing room had quite a scene the other night. Thanks to you."

The blood drains from my face as I think about maybe causing a fight. But then... fuck them if I did. Maybe there needed to be one.

"When are you going to understand, Jams? I don't care about anything other than us. If I never wear these pads again, I would be content as long as you're beside me and I know that Chloe is safe and happy. Fuck, I'd be so far beyond content. I would be that one weird guy who's always smiling. I could be getting a colonoscopy, and I'd be grinning like a fucking fool because all I'd be thinking about is how incredibly lucky I am to go home to you."

My chest, that has felt too tight for the last few days, now feels so open that birds are soaring through it. A family is what I want, isn't it? With him. With Chloe if it's what she wants too. "But that's not what you want."

"Fucking Christ, Lily." For every step forward Brant takes, I match with one backward until he has me pinned against the wall. There's still a foot between us, but I feel the game heat radiating from him. When he cups my face, his palm is practically scalding, but I lean into it and close my eyes.

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