Page 38 of One Touch

The game flew by, and despite the amount of film he’d watched, Braden couldn’t stop Lathan and me from scoring. New Jersey didn’t make it easy, though, and Braden matched us a goal for goal. The difference was that our team was good all around, while the Penguins really only had Braden after retirements, trades, and injuries had plagued them this season. In the end, the Aces won 5-3, giving us another W.

Braden skated over at the end of the game to slap my back. “Hell of a game, friend. I’ll meet you at the side entrance?”

“Thanks, and yeah, I’ll see you in a bit.”

Lathan had been selected for media, so he hadn’t returned to the locker room before I left. A pang of sadness at not saying goodbye filled me, but it was for the best. The more I kept my distance, the better my heart would be at the end of this.

There would be an end, that much I knew. I just couldn’t make myself walk away until I had to. I’d gone and caught feelings for the one person who could never return them. It wasn’t his fault but my own. There was no way I’d end this first, either. I wanted to soak up every second I could, while I could, so I had those memories to last me a lifetime.

Was it pathetic? Maybe. I was too far gone to care. Having boundaries wouldn’t be a bad thing, though.

“Have a good holiday, Fahn. See you back in Austin,” Bell shouted as I left.

“Same!”

A few of my other teammates echoed his goodbye as I exited the locker room. It was a stark contrast to my last team, and the knowledge I’d done it—found a team to belong to—lifted my spirits, and carried me the rest of the way out.

A stiff body slammed into me as I exited, causing me to drop my bag. “Mothertrucker.”

“Watch it,” Chet Doyle shouted.

“Yeah, because I’m the one who ran into you,” I muttered as I gathered my stuff.

“You say something?”

“Nope.” I stood and ignored him as I moved past. Okay, correction. I felt welcomed by the team, minusthatguy.

“Homo,” he mumbled under his breath.

I paused and debated whether or not to say anything. In the end, I knew I couldn’t let it go, or he’d continue to believe it was okay.

“You should get a new word of the day calendar or a thesaurus.”

“Excuse me?”

“Homo isn’t very creative. If you’re going to throw slurs, you could be more creative. That’s all.”

His face turned red as he stared at me, and I worried I’d gone too far. Or maybe I’d used too big of words, and his head was about to explode.

“Are you calling me dumb? You can’t even cuss properly.”

Okay, score one for the brute. Maybe he wasn’t as dumb as he appeared, just homophobic.

“My choice not to use foul language has nothing to do with intelligence. You, on the other hand… I was hopeful your use of a slur was due to ignorance and not an actual choice. SeemsIwas wrong.”

He blinked, opening and closing his hands fisted at his sides. Tonight was not the night for education. I rubbed my brow and sighed.

“Call me that or anyone else on this team again, and I’ll report you to the Aces organization. Have a good night, Doyle.”

I spun and left before he could do anything. I didn’t need to add to my already cluttered mind. Braden was waiting for me when I appeared around the corner. He smiled and motioned for me to follow him to the player’s exit.

“Reese and the others are already back at the house,” he said as he opened his car.

“How is that going? Is it hard living in different places?”

“It’s better than the alternative. We have a main house in the middle and apartments in New York and Philly. We make sure to see each other as much as possible,” he explained.

Braden was in a polyamorous relationship with Reese, Cam, and Landon. Reese played for Philadelphia, and Landon and Cam played for New York. Trying to juggle three hockey schedules made my head hurt. I was happy they’d been able to make it work, though. They’d been together since junior year at Carrington, where we all went to college.

---