Page 44 of Stick By Me

Leo

Sure, I’ll pick you up in an hour?

That would give me time to shower and then it would be time for lunch.

Archer

See you in an hour.

After my shower,I drove into the driveway of Archer’s house. As I turned off the engine, the front door popped open and Archer strolled out, all dressed up in a nice navy-blue sweater and thigh-hugging jeans. Damn, he was stunning in everything he wore.

With a smile playing over his mouth, he climbed into my car and leaned over the center console, cupping my cheek. “Missed you.” He planted a deep kiss on my mouth, his tongue sliding inside. A soft moan floated out of him.

My cock took notice and plumped in my jeans. As the kiss broke, I said, “Missed you, too.”

“So, how about Spinelli’s Pizza down on Mill Avenue?” His eyes twinkled in the sunlight shining in through the windshield.

“Sure.” He was pretty damn happy about something. “Are you going to tell me what this good news is now, or are we waiting?”

“Waiting.” He gripped his big hand over mine, facing forward in his seat. “Let’s go.”

We strolledto the pizza place, hidden inside a brick building of small shops, and were seated into a corner booth by a hostess. The place had dark wood tables with red vinyl seats and amural of an Italian archway with colorful vines climbing up the wall. I’d been here before with Alicia, but she’d only wanted to order a salad. Why go to an infamous pizza place to order salad?

“So, I like everything on my pizza. How about you?” He set his menu on the table, then perused the place.

“Good with me.” I was not like my brother, who only ate pepperoni and mushrooms on his pizza. The guy was notorious for it. I lowered my menu, my gaze catching on a waitress in black waiting on another table, one with a hetero couple sitting at it. Funny, now I was thinking like a queer person.

Facing Archer, I held his hand over the table. “So, tell me what this good news is.” I sipped water from my glass.

“You’re not going to believe this, but the new defensive coach for the Coyotes knew my mom.” His face lit up and his leg jiggled under table.

“Really.” I studied him. There was a lot more to this story. “And?”

“And he showed up after the game last night with an offer to let me try out for the team at their summer development camp.” Ticking his brows, he gave me an open-mouthed smile.

“Are you shitting me?” I squeezed his hand. “That’s great. Does that mean you get a deal?” I wasn’t very up on how hockey players got onto teams. Football was easy. Hockey seemed a lot more complicated to me.

“It means I have a chance at a deal. He said he’s been following my career, well, with my mom’s help.” He traced a circle on the table with his index finger, tilting his head. “I do have to prove to him that I’m worth it, though. It’s not a done deal. He said if I can play well the rest of the season, then I’m in.” His gaze met mine.

“So, is this some sort of posthumous favor he’s doing for your mom?” I winced. Fuck, that didn’t come out right. “Sorry, you know what I mean, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’d be given this chance if he didn’tknow my mom.” He hung his head. “I have to really focus on my skills now and get shit down.” He fisted his free hand.

“You’re good Archer. I’ve seen you do amazing things out on the ice. You can do this.” I shook his hand between us.

“Yeah, as long as my dad stays out of my head.” He pursed his lips.

The waitress stopped at the table and took our order for a pitcher of beer and pizza, then left.

I wasn’t sure I liked his last comment. “What do you mean about your dad being in your head?” I inched closer into his side. All the excitement he’d had when we’d gotten here was gone.

With a huff, he said, “So, when I play a good game, he calls and congratulates me, but he always has something negative to say. But when I play well, it rolls off my back and I dig in and actually get better.” He shook his head, a slight sneer creeping over his lips. “But when I fuck up, he calls and gives me shit, tells me all the reasons I should quit hockey, you know.” His gaze snapped to mine. “You saw it.”

“Yeah, I saw it.” I knitted my brows. How awful. My parents had only ever been supportive of me and Axel. Even though it had taken Dad some time to accept Axel’s sexuality. But Axel had never seen it.

“So, then his voice gets in my head, and I fuck up even more. My practices suck and the next game is hit or miss.” He blew out a breath. “It takes time to recover and I’m sure it shows on the ice.” With a slow nod, he said, “That’s probably why Mr. Dupont wants to see if I can pull my head out of my ass the rest of the season before he extends an amateur tryout contract to me.”

I nodded. Yep, complicated. “Have you heard from your dad since the night you hung up on him?” He hadn’t said a word about it.

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