Page 8 of The Poster Boy
Boone eyed me with suspicion but said nothing. Not in front of Church. My dislike for Myers was going to be a secret between the two of us. The fact that I’d said anything at all made me feel sour, like I’d been tricked.
Church stole another fry. “Might even be good for my game. The kid is good; maybe it will rub off.”
“You’re good, Church.” I wasn’t so great with praise, and I seldom dished it out. Church’s eyes went wide, and he shot me a grin.
“Wow, I must really suck if Jay is trying to make me feel better.” Church flashed me a beaming smile. His tone had lightened since we’d sat down. Clearly Church had started to feel better about the whole thing. Now I just had to get my brain on board and find a way to play it cool around Myers. I didn’t want the whole team to know that I hated him. I might be an asshole, but I wasn’t that kind of asshole.I didn’t want anyone to mistreat him just because of my own dislike.
I scowled at my friend. “I’m allowed to be nice, you know.”
“I know. It’s just weird, that’s all. You usually have nothing to say, so your compliment caught me off-guard.”
“Wow, you’d think I was never nice to you.”
“You’re not,” Church stated. “You’re a good friend. You’re there when shit matters, on and off the ice. And part of the reason you’re so good in your position is because you’re not nice. You expect a lot from everyone, but you expect three times as much from yourself. And you almost never compliment anyone.” He leaned back and took a slow sip of his drink. His tongue flicked out over his lips before he spoke again. “So when Jay Brookbank tells me I don’t suck, I’m going to believe him.”
Sometimes I hated that these men were family to me. It meant they knew things about me that I thought I kept under wraps. But spending the bulk of your time around the same people meant that you’d learn all kinds of shit about them. Even things you thought they didn’t know. Or things you might not have figured out yourself yet.
Like at hockey camp when Kai Chambers caught me alone, pinned me to the wall, and kissed the living daylights out of me. I hadn’t even known that I was bisexual until that kiss. And all Kai did when he finally broke away, panting and pink-cheeked, was look at me with his sparkling smile and proclaim that he knew it all along.
I shut him up with my mouth because I hadn’t known it all along. Not until that kiss. Not until his mouth met mine and my body reacted, urging me to get closer to Kai instead of pulling away. It had been a defining moment for me.
Just like the first time Boone had draggedme out for drinks. It had just been the two of us and though I’d tried at first to hold up my end of the conversation, Boone soon took over and I sat back and let him. He talked through drinks and dinner and another drink and as we stood on the curb waiting for our Uber, it hit me that he was still carrying the conversation.
I thought for sure it would be the last time Boone would want to hang out with me, but he asked me to hang out the next day after practice. And the next. And after several days in a row of us going out and Boone doing most of the talking, I looked at him and asked him why he wanted to hang out with me.
“Well, we’re friends, right? And friends hang out.”
“Yeah, but I don’t say much.”
Boone’s smile could have powered the entire arena it was so bright. “And I say too much. We’re a perfect match, Brooksie.”
And just like then, Boone carried the conversation between the three of us. Every so often I’d chime in with a quip or a story of my own, but mostly I let Boone do the talking. Besides, my mouth had already gotten me in enough trouble.
I could still feel the weight of Boone’s disappointment in me over my remarks about Myers. It didn’t sit right with me for him to feel that way. It wasn’t often that I felt like I was a bad person, but Boone’s disapproval about my opinion sat in my guts like a stone.
Calling it a night, Church dipped out first and went home to his cat. Boone went home with me. We hadn’t lived together at first, but when we traveled we always shared a room, and then one day the pipes in his condo burst and he needed a place to stay while they did the repairs… and he just never left. Living with Boone was a blessing and a curse, though, because I couldn’t escape his scrutiny.
We walked the few blocks to the building we lived in. Some of the guys lived further out, but Boone and I preferred to be close to the arena. In the off-season, we usually rented something near his family who lived a few hours outside Vancouver. They’d accepted me like I was one of them. Sometimes Boone joked that they loved me more than they loved him, but he didn’t seem to mind. And I got the impression that even if it were true, he would be happy for me.
Which made me feel like the world’s biggest asshole when it came to Myers. But no matter how many times I told myself that my dislike of Myers wasn’t his fault, that it was just me being stupid, the feeling didn’t go away, and I didn’t know how to pretend that it had.
We reached our apartment, a spacious two-bedroom with a killer view of the arena. Boone’s family got a kick out of our obsession with the place. His brother had proclaimed that he’d die if every time he looked out the window he was faced with his job. But Boone reminded him that he only felt that way because he hated his job.
Boone went to the fridge and grabbed a couple bottles of water. He handed one to me and cracked his open. Leaning against the counter, his gaze bored into me. “You are going to play nice tomorrow, right?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I furrowed my brow.
“Because you hate him.”
“I’m also a professional.”
Boone shot me a shit-eating grin. “You get paid big bucks to professionally flatten people who displease you.”
“I’m not going to flatten the new goalie.”
In response, he gave mesome side eye.
“I promise not to flatten the new goalie.”
