Page 77 of Untouchable Player

“No, a little. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Jesse?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you worried about being gay?”

I think about it, “no, not really, I mean, yeah, but only when I think about telling my dad, and maybe the guys on the team. And because I really wanna get married and have kids one day.”

“Gay men do all that stuff. And you know Harrison wouldn’t let anyone give you shit for it right?”

“Becauseyou’regay?”

“Not just that. I know he can be an asshole sometimes, but when I came out, he was so cool about it. My mom and dad just sat there staring at me, and Harrison said, ‘great, more girls for me, hurry up and pass the potatoes’.”

I laugh. I see Jones as our captain, who I’m a little scared of because he has authority over me and can be a hard-ass sometimes. And because he’s rich, and got drafted into the NHL and is just using the NCAA as a training camp for some big shiny future as a professional athlete. It’s weird to think of him as a protective big brother. It doesn’t bode well for me if he ever finds out what I’ve been doing with Nate.

“It’ll be okay,” Nate says.

I sigh. “Thanks.”

“Do you wanna come over and watch a movie or something? My mom and dad are here, but they won't mind.”

“Yeah, I mean, if you want me to.”

“Yes, I want you to.”

“Okay, then I’ll come.”

Nate’s mom answers the door in one of those super-soft cardigans that probably cost a fortune, even though she only wears it inside the house.

Nate must have told her I was coming over, because she lets me in without asking why I’m there.

Nate comes downstairs in his bare feet and a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I have to rearrange my expression so his mom doesn’t notice that I’m practically drooling.

“We’re just gonna study in my room,” he says.

His mom gives me a weird look, but keeps smiling. I probably stink of beer right now.

“Have fun,” she says.

I follow Nate up the stairs and when he pulls the stairs to the attic up, I want to ask him if he thinks his mom is suspicious, but I change my mind. Why worry him? Plus, I don’t want him to put an end to this, whatever ‘this’ is.

“What do you want to watch?” he asks, “my mom’s got a login for like every streaming service, she’s a TV junkie, so if you like it, she’s probably got it.”

I smile.

“What?”

“Nothing, you look good in sweats, that’s all.”

Nate drops his eyes and blushes a little.

“Take your pants off,” he says.

“What?”

“I don’t want you sitting on my bed in jeans you’ve sat in a bar in.”

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