Page 20 of The Waiting Game

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s trash and you know it.”

“You’re trash.”

“Oh, mature.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you back.”

“I’m just saying …”

“Saying what?”

“I should have something to be proud of.” Felix slumped back, relinquishing his grip on the remote.

“You’re a Stanley Cup-winning defenseman. Isn’t that enough?”

Felix shrugged. “It’s amazing. And I’ll never forget that night. I just … I want more. I wanted a family.”

“I know.” Jonah settled a hand on his thigh. “I know. And I’m sorry Whit wasn’t able to give you that.”

“Me too.” Felix shifted onto his side, resting his head against Jonah’s shoulder. “And I’m sorry I’m so whiny all the time.”

“Dude, be as whiny as you want. I’ll still love you.”

“What would I do without you and Grandma Ji-min? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Here.” Jonah thrust the remote back at him. “Dude. Watch whatever you want. Just stop having an existential crisis on me.”

“Some friend you are.”

“I am your best friend and you are lucky to have me.”

Felix slung an arm over Jonah’s chest, squeezing his ribs. “Yeah, I really am.”

Sometimes, Jonah was convinced Felix liked torturing him.

Jonah was used to cuddly teammates.

Hockey players were pack animals and for all of the sport’s general bullshit around homophobia, they were tactile creatures.

On road trips, Matty was constantly roaming hotel room hallways and bullying his way into his teammate’s rooms to watch movies or TV.

Matty and Nico got cuddly when they were drinking and, during practices and on the ice, all of the guys were regularly plastered against one another.

Cellies were an excuse to hug your boys and after a lifetime of hockey, Jonah was entirely immune to the touch of the guys he hung around with.

It didn’t mean anything.

But Felix was driving him nuts lately. He’d certainly never shied away from Jonah or treated him any differently than their other teammates. But he’d never been this fucking touchy-feely before. Not since they were kids anyway.

Maybe it was some sort of stand-in for drinking? Some coping mechanism?

People who quit smoking often took up chewing gum or gnawing on toothpicks. Maybe this was some sort of substitute?

Jonah wasn’t sure that made any sort of sense but what else would it be?

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