Page 40 of Crossing Lines

“Hey, it was an accident.” He wrapped his fingers around my forearm. “I’m sure you were tired of the brace?—”

“He’s the one who was pushing me to be in the NHL.” Might as well tell him the ugly truth. “We didn’t speak for a while after it was certain my career was over.” I clenched my jaw.

“Fuck.” He exhaled a quick breath. “I’m sorry, Ryan.” He tapped my forearm with his index finger. “Did he have a hard time accepting you were gay?”

With a slow nod, I said, “Yep. Like I said, I think coming out started a lot of bad things in my life.” I lifted my gaze to his. “Mom was fine with it, but Dad didn’t say anything, just turned and walked out of the house.” I bit my lower lip. “He didn’t come home until late, and boy, was he pissed.”

“He didn’t, like, hit you or something, did he?” He knitted his brows.

“Hit me?” I cocked my head. Where had that come from? “No…”

“What did he do? Call you names? You said he came home pissed.” His gaze searched my face.

“Oh.” I freed a sharp laugh. “No, I meant he was drunk.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I chuckled. “I keep forgetting the American slang. We say pissed for drunk up in?—”

“The Great White North?” He giggled, holding the back of his hand to his mouth. “Sorry, but I had to say it. I should know better. Sometimes Myles says pissed for drunk too.”

“Anyway, yeah, he went out and gotshitfaced.” I snorted. “Is that better? Then he got into a huge argument with my mom about me.” The memories came flooding back of me lying in my bed, holding a pillow over my head so I couldn’t hear the horrible things they were saying to each other, the horrible things I was sure he was saying about me.

He sipped more of his drink. “How are you now?”

“We’re okay. Dad remarried a much younger wife and has two girls now. They’re six and eight.” I picked up my soup bowl and tilted it to my mouth, slurping it down. There was so much we didn’t know about each other.

“So, you have two half-sisters. Any other siblings?” He spooned soup into his mouth.

Setting my empty bowl down, I said, “Nope. I was the only one.” The golden child, the one meant for greatness in the NHL. I chuckled softly.

“What are their names?” He sipped soup from the side of the bowl.

“Miranda and Jess, short for Jessica.” I eyed the waitress walking toward us with our food, then pushed plates aside to make room. “How about you? Tell me about your parents?”

The waitress set down our rolls and sashimi. “Enjoy.” She sauntered off.

“Okay, so…” He poured soy sauce into a small bowl and added a heaped scoop of wasabi, then stirred.

“Holy shit, Jonah. You like it hot, eh?” I pointed at his soy sauce mixture. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anyone use so much wasabi.

Wagging his brows, he said, “I do like it hot.” He snickered.

“Anyway, tell me about your family.” I dunked a roll into my soy sauce and popped it into my mouth, a sweet and saltymixture flooding my tongue. This would be interesting. Who would have been the one who pushed him in his hockey career? It almost always came down to a parent. Playing hockey at his level was a commitment for a family at some point.

“I came out to my parents when I was in high school, and they literally didn’t care. I had hooked up with a guy and decided I wanted to do it again, which meant I was going to tell someone. So, I told them.” He huffed a chuckle. “It was over the dinner table, and for whatever reason, I thought it would be a good time to do it.” With a smile, he rubbed his forehead. “My younger brother, Jason, was in the middle of drinking his milk and spat it across the table.”

“Seriously?” I sniggered. No wonder he was so self-confident with his sexuality. Well, and in general. Yeah, and he was driven. Like, what sort of guy gets a full ride to college on a hockey scholarship and then decides to go pre-med?

“Yeah, it was awesome. Mom and Dad just sat there like I’d told them it was going to snow tomorrow.” A broad smile swept over his mouth, and he tapped his chin. “In fact, I think my mom’s exact words were,Oh, that’s nice, dear.” He tilted his head. “And I think Dad just agreed with her.”

“What did your brother do, well, besides clean up his milk?” I ate more sushi. It was nice hearing there were parents like his. And like my mom.

“He stared at me a moment, then he said,Good, more women for me. The little fucker.” With a wide grin, he shook his head and dipped a roll into his sauce. “He’s sort of a lady’s man. Always has a woman or two texting him and trying to get time with him.”

“Does he look like you?” I held a roll to my mouth. I was pretty sure Jonah had never had a hard time finding women…or men. Shit, he’d held my complete attention the first day I’d seen him in the locker room.

“Yeah, some. But he has brown eyes, and he doesn’t playhockey, so he’s not as built.” He lifted an arm and bent it, showing off the bulge of his bicep through his shirt.

“So, Jonah and Jason. Did your parents have a thing for names starting withJ?” I slipped a slice of sashimi into my soy sauce, then ate it. I’d heard of families doing that before.

“Yes. My grandmother did it, so my mom had to do it.” He dipped his gaze to his plate, then focused on me. “My grandparents are from Germany. Munich, actually.”

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