Page 114 of On Thin Ice

His mom was around, too, of course, but nobody could really match the power or sheer presence of Morgan.

“You think anyone’s gonna figure out if they go for that smaller, quicker forward, that it’s gonna piss off that left winger?” Morgan continued. “They seemed really surprised when they did it, and he lost his shit.”

“That’s . . .uh kind of new,” Finn said.

“Oh?”

“Honestly, for last season and most of this season, they were better at chirping at each other than defending each other,” Finn said.

“Huh.” Morgan sipped his Coke. Looked like he wanted to ask, but he didn’t, at least at first. Then he finally burst out. “What changed?”

Finn wasn’t sure what the sudden tension in his dad’s shoulders was about. Why would he give a shit about Mal and Elliott?

“They got together,” Finn said. He met Jacob’s gaze across the table and told himself forcibly not to flush.

Morgan’s mouth was a tight line, and Finn couldn’t understand why. He wasn’t homophobic, not at all. In fact, famously, even before Finn had began to consider that he might be gay, his dad had reported one of his teammates for homophobic comments and had gotten him kicked off the team.

It was definitely not that Elliott and Mal were two men. Maybe that they were teammates?

“You ever see that before?” Jacob asked Morgan.

Morgan had an unbelievable control over his own body—was famous for it, in fact—but Finn swore he squirmed on the bench. “No.”

“I heard about it, some,” Jacob said.

“Not that many out guys in the NHL,” Morgan said tightly.

“A few,” Jacob said. “Asher Dalton from Buffalo, and Noah Boucher from the Fisher Cats. Oh, and the Sentinels’ captain. Hayes Montgomery. He came out in the last offseason, didn’t he?”

Finn nodded. He liked Hayes, though he’d only met him a handful of times. “I’m glad he’s playing for Tampa now. Should make it easier when I’m called up.” Before, before this, he’d always added a bunch of caveats—internallyandout loud—about how he might not get there, to the NHL. But he was feeling more confident that he would now.

Could even see the hazy beginnings of it in his mind.

Morgan looked even unhappier, but what he said was the opposite of the awkwardness lurking in his gaze. “I hope so.”

A minute later their food came, and conversation slipped from subject to subject, easier than Finn could’ve imagine, as they demolished it.

After Morgan and Jacob argued over who was paying the bill—Jacob won, and not to be outdone, Morgan tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table for a tip—they headed outside.

“I got to go,” Morgan told Finn. “Have an early meeting for some ESPN coverage I’m participating in. But you’re good with the plans for Christmas next week?”

That was right, Finn realized, Christmas was only a few days away. Hehadseen the email Morgan had sent and he’d frankly ignored it.

Only Morgan would send a schedule for a holiday.

“Yeah,” Finn said. He risked a glance over at Jacob, who stood there, gazing back with a promise in his eyes.

We’ll make time for each other, no matter how much Morgan interferes.

“Good,” Morgan said. He gave Jacob an abbreviated, but surprisingly mellow nod. “See you around, Braun.”

“Reynolds,” Jacob said back.

They didn’t shake hands, but Finn supposed that was probably asking way too much of the situation. It was amazing they’d sat together at his game and then had dinner together and nobody’s face had gotten punched.

“See you later,” Morgan said, giving him another long hug, and then he was gone, walking away, back towards the rink’s parking lot.

Finn waited until his dad was just out of earshot. “Does he know?”

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