Page 27 of Testing the Goalie

“That sounds amazing,” he murmurs. “But could you join me? I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep without you by my side.”

I snicker, not bothering to mention there’s a strong possibility he’ll fall asleep anyway, but I like giving him the aftercare he needs. Honestly, I need it too. And if need be, I’m positive I’d be able to carry him, even if he isn’t a featherlight little twink.

Grabbing Ben’s hand, I guide him into the bathroom and fill the tub. Once a small layer of warm water is in the bottom, I help him inside, cherishing the drunk-like grin he flashes my way.

“I’ll be right back,” I promise. “Try not to fall asleep.”

He chuckles lightly and lifts a shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I shake my head, walking back into my room to strip the soiled blanket off the bed, discarding it in a corner. I’ll wash it tomorrow, but I want the bed ready for us when we’re done with our bath. Grabbing another blanket from the closet, I drape it over the bed before hurrying back to my boy, who appears to be seconds away from falling asleep.

His eyelids are barely open, but his eyes light up when I come into view. “You came back,” he murmurs.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I inquire.

He shrugs but doesn’t offer up anything more.

I’m confused by Ben’s shock that I came back like I promised. Has someone let him down and caused him not to trust? He just turned twenty-one, but maybe he’s had some shitty exes in the past or something. That might be why he became a playboy and suggested we only be fuck buddies. His studies and hockey have a lot to do with things, but I’m curious if there’s some deeper reason he isn’t ready to share yet.

Since I’m not going to pressure Ben to open up about anything he isn’t ready for, I push away the thoughts and grab a container of lavender oil to pour into the tub, then climb in to join my sexy boy, wrapping my arms around his perfect body.

“I wish my apartment had a tub like this,” Ben mumbles, relaxing into my embrace, his head resting on my chest. “How do you afford a house like this? Do professors really make that much money?”

“They can when they’ve been at it for some time,” I supply. “On my current salary, I wouldn’t normally be able to afford a place like this, but my grandfather left it to me when he passed last year. I was considering selling it since, up until August, I lived in Detroit, but then I received the job offer and was glad I didn’t go through with the sale.

“Are you from Michigan?” I question, and he shakes his head.

“Los Angeles.”

“Ahh, you must miss the warm weather come wintertime,” I guess.

He chuckles. “You have no idea, but being a hockey kid, I’ve grown accustomed to the cold.”

“I can’t imagine the hockey scene is large in California.”

“It isn’t,” he replies. “Thankfully, there was a junior team where I lived that had the best coaching staff and didn’t care that I was a poor foster kid. But I knew if I wanted to go to a top college and play hockey with the best, I’d have to move. Choosing GSU was easy. Not only is their team ranked highly, but the college is like no other. I wasn’t openly bisexual before I moved here, but the environment here helped me feel comfortable being myself.”

“How did your parents take you coming out?” I ask.

“I grew up in the foster care system, so I didn’t have anyone I had to come out to.”

Hmm, that might explain some of the underlying emotions I was picking up on earlier.

“How did you manage to get into hockey?” I inquire.

“When I was eight, one of the families I was placed with liked to offload their kids into whatever free extracurricular activities they could. At the time, a hockey camp offered free spots to underprivileged children. My foster parents quickly signed me and a few of the other kids up. The coach noticed my raw talent immediately and wanted me to succeed. After that, he continued to find the funding so I could play. Even though he wasn’t able to foster me, he was honestly the closest thing I ever had to a father.

“Thankfully, when I told him I was bi, he just laughed and said it made perfect sense. Apparently, he saw the crushes I had on boys and girls over the years, but it didn’t bother him. He also understood why I waited so long to come out. Sports haven’t always been the most welcoming to the queer community. There’s still a long way to go in that regard, but GSU has stepped up to the plate and continues to show that it’s easy to be welcoming. The people who need to be shunned are the bigoted assholes, not queer folks.”

I smile and kiss his shoulder. “I’m glad you had one person in your corner growing up. I can’t imagine being in the foster system was easy.”

Ben sighs. “I had it better than most, but you learn to be guarded. It’s hard to trust people and let them in when there’s a strong possibility they won’t be in your life for long. Coach Appleton was the only constant in my life, but even him, I kept at arm’s length for the longest time. I was afraid if I let him in, he’d leave just like everyone else did.”

“Is Coach Appleton still in your life?” I ask, praying he didn’t eventually abandon Ben like the others did.

“He is. We talk at least once a month, but we both have busy lives, so it’s hit or miss. Since he’s still in California, we don’t see each other often, but he’s flown out to watch me in the championship finals each year,” he shares, easing the worry I was harboring.

Thank God Ben didn’t have to experience yet another person leaving him. There isn’t anything more to say at this moment, so I just hold him. The pieces are starting to come together, and I’m beginning to understand this boy a little bit more now.

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