Page 106 of Can't Kiss the Chef

My body is taken over by laughter. I stabilize my wrist, holding the cup until I can place it on the bedside table.

I take another look at Byron laying on his side. His head perched up on his right hand, dressed only in his boxers.

“I thought I told you to stay where you were.”

“I just wanted to spice things up,” he says with a wink.

“Not happening tonight buddy. Maybe if you stopped drinking when I asked you we could have ended this night differently.”

“Ughh fine.” He rolls onto his back.

“Drink some of this and then we can go to bed.”

The cup of water is demolished in one gulp. I strip out of my jeans and black sweater, changing it out for one Byron’s old Westvale Hockey tees.

I settle into the bed and plug my phone into the charger. When I turn toward Byron I notice the glassy change to his blue eyes.

“Are you okay, baby?” I wipe the tears away.

“I’m nervous to tell coach and the rest of the team about the renewed relationship with my dad.” He takes a deep breath. “And that he’s dying.”

My chest tightens. This sweet gentle man doesn’t deserve to live with this kind of pain. I rest my head next to his so we are sharing a pillow.

“I’m so sorry, Byron. You don’t have to tell them if you really don’t want to,” I say, running my hands through his hair. I’ll support whichever decision he makes.

“It’s–it’s just that I’ve talked so much shit about him over the years,” he pauses.

“And I’m really mad at him and Mom for not telling me sooner,” he chokes out. Rubbing the back of his hands over his eyes, drying them as he turns to face me.

“All these emotions are normal. You are allowed to feel sad. Just promise me you won’t shut me out.”

I cup his cheek making sure I’m holding his attention.

“I don’t want you to have any regrets in this life. I have enough for the two of us.”

I close the inch of space between us and place a peck on his lips.

The storm has passed in the depths of Byron’s blue eyes turning into something tender.

“Thank you,” His tone matches the look in his eyes.

“For what?”

“Just being here listening to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you.”

The realization comes over me that I’m the only one that knows what Byron is truly going through. He’s not handling it well. His emotions are all over the place, changing on the drop of a dime. I know I have to be patient with him because that’s what I asked him to be with me and each time he opens up like he did tonight is a reminder on why he’s worth the changes I’m making.

“I love you too.”

I give him one more kiss before snuggling into his side. He’s long asleep by the time the rise and fall of his chest rocks me to the same fate.

40

Byron

“Fuck,” my screams carry through the locker room bouncing off the wooden lockers and echoing. Giving my teammates no second guess to how I’m feeling.

We just lost a 3-2 nail biter to a team we should have blown out. I know I’m heavily to blame for the loss. It’s one thing to spend an abnormal amount of time in the penalty box. Ask any hockey player how easy it is to take out the stress of the outside world out on the ice. With how aggressive hockey is, it almost feels like it’s supposed to be that way. It’s getting thrown out with three minutes left. I’m the fucking captain and I couldn’t control myself enough to keep my composure. I was able to hidein the entryway that leads from the locker room to the arena and watch the last three minutes of that fucking loss.

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