Page 97 of Unlovable Player

Fuck.He’s never talked about his dad before. So I’ve never asked. I always thought he didn’t think about him and the man couldn’t matter less.

“I thought it was my fault, like I’d done something wrong.”

“How old were you when he left?”

“I was a baby.” He laughs. “Pretty stupid, I know, what can a baby do wrong? It wasn’t my fault, I know that now, and that loser can go fuck himself. I never needed him. My ma was more supportive than most two-parent families I know. What I’m saying is, it takes time, but that rejection from someone who’s meant to love you no matter what? It’ll hurt less one day. I promise.”

There’s that lump in my throat again. I don’t try to push it down this time and Austin squeezes my hand.

“And you’ve got someone who’ll love you no matter what.”

“Even if I start supporting the Habs?”

He runs an exasperated hand over his face and groans, but I can see him smiling through his fingers.

“Even then,” he says.

EPILOGUE

Ihaven’t stopped checking the arrivals board since I got here like an hour early. Seb texted about two hours ago to let me know he’d made his connecting flight in Toronto and my stomach hasn’t stopped flipping since.

Obviously we’ve talked on the phone and facetimed these past eight weeks – I think we’re experts at phone sex now. But it still feels weird. Knowing I haven’t physically seen him in all this time.

Fuck I’ve missed him.

It’s not the same over the phone.

I even went into duty-free and sniffed the aftershave he wears when I got here. I can just imagine someone recognizing me and posting it on social media:

Austin Donoghue goes full psycho over boyfriend’s cologne!

A little girl came up to me when I sat down and asked to take a picture with me. I’m still getting used to all the attention that comes with playing in the NHL, but I’m not about to complain. It’s scary as fuck, but worth it. Especially when kids get excited to talk to you.

During my first NHL game, I thought I was literally going to shit my pants. I tried to pretend like it wasn’t the first time, and then the first thing the ref said before the opening puck drop was: “Welcome to the NHL Austin.”Fuck.

My ma in the crowd, jumping up and down and screaming with the uncles and aunts I’d managed to get tickets for. Overwhelming isn’t even the word.

But this - waiting for Seb to show after eight weeks apart - this is something entirely different.

People start funneling through arrivals, looking exhausted, carrying crying kids and wheeling suitcases behind them.

I hear the blood rushing in my ears while I wait for Seb to appear.

I see the top of his head above a few of the more normal-sized dads and little kids. His mop of golden hair. His hand brushing it back off his forehead. And then I catch sight of his face.

Fuck he’s handsome.

A big, cocky grin spreads across his face and my heart lurches.

And he’s mine.

He speeds up his walk, Samsonite suitcase trailing behind him. He lets go of it when he reaches me and I throw my arms around him, greedily taking him in.

“Missed you.” I speak into his shoulder as he squeezes me almost too tightly.

I pull away to get a better look at him. My hand on the back of his neck as if trying to stop him from getting away.

“I’m better-looking than you remember, aren’t I?”

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