Page 12 of Gamechanger

After a pause, she spoke again. "Your Dad and I, we just worry about you. You're alone in a brand-new city, and we don't want you to be lonely. We want you to be happy."

I wished I could reach through the phone and hug her. "I know, and I am happy. My teammates are great, and I'm making new friends."

"Okay, sweetheart. I'm happy to hear that." I heard the familiar sounds of my family gatherings in the background—Uncle Seth laughed loudly, dishes clattered, and voices chattered from the TV in the distance, probably a football game Dad was watching. "We love you, Finn, and we'll talk tomorrow."

"Love you, too. Give everybody a big Thanksgiving hug for me."

While I hung up, I leaned against the restaurant's brick exterior wall and exhaled. I loved my family, but sometimes, their expectations, worries, and attempts to direct my social life nearly suffocated me.

Moose raised an eyebrow as I slipped back into the booth. "Is everything okay in Finn land?" He smirked. "Get it, Finland?"

I shook my head. "Yeah, and I'm sorry to let you know you aren't the first to figure that out." I sighed and reached for my tea. "It was just my parents, and they miss me. I went to college close to home, so this is a big thing for them."

He tilted his head to the right. "And I bet there's one other thing—they asked whether you've met any nice girls yet."

I nearly choked and spat tea across the table. "How did you—"

"Call it a hunch." Moose smiled. "Dad used to do the same thing with me."

"Used to?"

Moose shrugged and snagged the last of the potstickers with his chopsticks. "Let's say he finally realized that my dating pool lacked women."

"Oh?"

He dropped a casual comment like he was talking about the weather. "Yeah, I'm bi, but lately, I'm starting to feel more like 'been there, done that' with women. I've got nothing to show but a bruised heart from those relations." He sighed. "Or maybe I've just been hanging around Quinn too much."

From the way he looked at me, I was pretty sure he was into guys, but to have him confirm it so breezily. It took my breath away. Before thinking, the words "What if… " rolled out of my mouth, but I couldn't let myself go there. I immediately followed it up with, "Must have been tough hanging around the hockey guys when you were growing up. They aren't so easy on guys into guys."

He burst out laughing.

"What?"

"Me… and hockey culture. My bubble hockey table was the only thing I knew about hockey before I met Quinn. I was the biology guy counting ants in an anthill."

I blinked. "But you seem so into it now."

He leaned partway across the table. "Or into the guys that are into it, yeah?" He sat back. "Trust me. It's mostly all new. I was definitely not an athlete, being a chubby kid."

Moose rattled off shock after shock. "You? Chubby?" I gazed at the broad expanse of his chest and the bulky arms stretching his shirt. I couldn't imagine him any other way but built like… well, a moose. My fingers itched with the sudden, unexpected urge to trace the contours of his muscles. I quickly pushed the thought into the back of my mind, but I knew it wouldn't be the last time my thoughts would go there.

He smiled. "Oh, man, yeah. I ate everything in sight—chips, candy bars, cookies. It was not pretty."

"What happened then?" I was genuinely curious. I'd always been small, and no big change ever happened to me. "I mean, you're… look at you."

"Puberty was part of it, and in college, we had a P.E. requirement, and I took weightlifting. I liked it, and the science behind it was fascinating, like personalized biology. I sort of turned my own body into a big biology experiment. Unlike athletes, though, I didn't really work that hard. Quinn noticed, and he was a great cheerleader."

"And hockey…"

"All Quinn. He worked hard to drag me to hockey games, and I finally gave in. There's something about those jerseys, too, and, um, the way you get knocked around out on the ice—somewhere between soccer and wrestling on skates."

I laughed out loud. "Yeah, I guess I understand that. So… from environmental work to sports marketing… how'd you make that leap?"

Moose's eyes sparkled. "That story would require at least two fortune cookies and possibly an adult beverage or two."

"Rain check?"

"Done."

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