Page 57 of Bad Pucking Roommate

Chapter twenty-one

Luca

The funeral is a big affair. Apparently, Justus’s grandpa was well-known and loved in this corner of the world—which is understandable, given what I’ve learned about the man—and damn near the whole town turns up to pay their respects.

During the eulogy at least ten people speak, telling favorite memories of Clarence Justus McCord, mostly referencing how selfless and neighborly he was, but occasionally highlighting his playful sense of humor. Justus has watery eyes throughout, though he doesn’t shed an actual tear. Just smiles wistfully as he listens to the stories.

I repeatedly find myself wanting to wrap my arm around him or squeeze his hand, but the best I can do is sit close enough that our thighs touch. It’s not enough, especially not in this situation, and for the first time since it was announced, I’m pissed at the Bulldogs organization for their no fraternization policy. Without that stupid stipulation I wouldn’t think twice about comforting Justus the way I want to. Hell, if it were any of our other teammates, I wouldn’t thinktwice about giving them a supportive shoulder, if only because there’d be nothing to find if anyone decided to dig deeper. With Justus… We’re already playing with fire, so even though I can feel how much he needs me right now, I keep my hands to myself.

After the funeral and the obligatory condolences over food and drink—where no less than half the people comment about how proud they are of Justus and much they enjoy watching the two of us play together—something that seems to make Justus uncomfortable, we’re finally on the road back to the airport.

“Clarence Justus McCord,” I remark as Justus stares absently out the window. “I always wondered where your name came from.”

“All the men in the family have had Justus in their name, in one way or another, for generations. Going back over a hundred years, I think. It means upright, or just.”

“Seems fitting for both you and your grandpa.”

“For him, definitely.” He bobs his head up and down in agreement.

“You don’t think it fits you, too?”

“I’m not the man he was, if that’s what you’re asking,” he tells the passing landscape.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Justus’s head flops back against the headrest. “You heard all those stories. Grandpa dedicated his life to his family. To the farm. Even the whole community. He didn’t up and leave to chase a dream.”

I flex my fingers around the wheel after realizing how tight I’d been gripping it. “Chasing a dream doesn’t mean you aren’t living up to your name. You’re just doing it in a different environment.”

He picks at a non-existent piece of lint on his pants. “An environment my family doesn’t exist in. I wasn’t there for them when they needed me.”

“You were there for me,” I say softly.

His lip curves like he’s trying to smile, but it falters before it takes hold. “You heard my dad at dinner. The whole ‘reminding me of my roots’thing. Why would he do that if he didn’t want me here instead of on an ice rink?”

“I didn’t study psychology.” I wink, hoping it might make him smile, which it nearly does. “But if I had to guess, I think most parents want their kids to stay close. Not at the expense of their dreams or anything, but yeah. I think it’s natural for parents to want their kids near them.”

“Is that how your parents are?”

Shit, I walked right into that one.

I scratch my head and stare at the road in front of me. “My family is different. My folks were in their mid-forties when I surprised them, and I think they’d been so convinced they couldn’t have a family that when I arrived, they weren’t sure what to do. They tried, and I know they love me in their own way, but they had a vision for their future that got pushed back but didn’t change when I came along.”

“How so?” Justus studies me curiously.

“They wanted to travel. Retire down south. My presence didn’t change that, they just waited a decade longer than they intended. Plus, I lived at school so I could train from ninth grade on, so we cut the cord early so-to-speak. But even before all that, we didn’t do nightly family dinners or have a business we ran together like your family. You guys are tighter now, with you living in Denver, than my family ever was.”

“See. I’m letting them down by chasing my dream.” Justus squeezes his eyes shut like that could block out the guilt he’s feeling.

“Babe, that’s not what I’m saying at all. Do your parents wish you were closer or that they saw you more? Yeah, I’m sure they do. But are they also proud of who you’ve become and what you’ve done withyour life? Yeah, they are. You can tell by how they glow when they talk about you.”

“They glow?” He wrinkles his nose.

“You didn’t notice that?”

“You did?”

“At dinner.” I grin at the memory. “I was telling them about all the things you’ve taught me, things that came from your grandpa, and they just… They had this energy about them even though they were just listening. Like they wanted to gush about what an amazing person you are, but they were trying to contain it, so they didn’t embarrass you. It was really sweet.”

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