Page 126 of Edging Coach
“It wasn’t him and me.” Devon suddenly pulled back and freed himself from my embrace. As he resumed pacing, he said, “He’s a friend. Afriend. We never—I mean, we have. In the past. But it was never like that, and?—”
“Devon,” I whispered. “Whatever he is to you, it was never the public’s business.”
His shoulders slouched and he sighed again. “It’s suchbullshit. I mean… tabarnak!” He threw up his hands, and his voice wavered as he said, “They said right there in the article that I’m intensely private, and then they followed that with mentioning I lost my mom when I was twelve. What the fuck? Don’t they understand that ‘intensely private’ means, you know,intensely private?”
I grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, I know. They want sensationalism and clicks—they couldn’t give a fuck less about us as people.”
He exhaled hard and dropped onto the end of the bed. Then he pressed his elbows into his thighs and leaned forward, pushing his hands through his hair. Sometimes I found his Quebecois cursing amusing or even cute. Today, it was just heartbreaking because frustration and shame and humiliation were rolling off him in waves.
I sat beside him and wrapped my arm around him. “I’m sorry someone did this to you.”
“I know. And thank you for—” Abruptly, he sat up and whipped toward me, eyes locking on mine. “Why did you come?”
I froze, my arm still hovering where his shoulders had been a moment ago. After a couple of seconds, I slowly lowered it as I cautiously replied, “You… said you needed me to?”
Devon studied me. “But…” He swept his tongue across his lips, eyeing me like he suddenly didn’t know what to make of me. “Your texts—I haven’t said a word to you in weeks…”
“I know,” I whispered. “But you needed me. So I’m here.”
He looked absolutely mystified. “You’re missing a game. You…” His eyes lost focus. “You said you’re… at the end of the season…” With a subtle head shake, he whispered,“Why?”
“Because I love you.” Fucking hell, saying those words out loud almost broke me apart. Saying them to him, looking him right in those beautiful eyes, and showing that card I’d held sodamn close—Christ, I had no idea how I didn’t cry. Maybe because I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t get it,” he murmured. “I’m just a kid who plays hockey and fucks you until you scream.”
“Do you really believe that after Tofino?”
His wince made guilt burn hot in my chest.
“If you don’t want anything with me,” I went on, keeping my voice soft, “I won’t push. I promise I won’t. Especially after you got a taste of what it’s like to be a gay player with even a slightly high profile. If you don’t want to sign up for headlines about you and your old coach? Your old coach who’s almost twice your age? I’ll understand because that’s a lot. It’s… fuck, it’s alot.”
He swallowed. “But if I did want something…” He searched my eyes. “You’d… You’d want it too?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
He didn’t speak, but his eyes screamed the question:Why?
Much like when Amy had asked if the guys respected her enough for her to coach, I almost laughed at the absurdity. I didn’t, though, because he was completely serious. Completely clueless as to why I wanted him.
“Devon, I…” It was my turn to break eye contact because I couldn’t handle his scrutiny. Couldn’t look him in the eye as the truth tumbled out. “I love you so much more than I should. It doesn’t matter if you feel the same way. Or if you’re willing to risk your career—or more bullshit headlines like that—to be with me. I still love you.” I made myself look at him even as my voice threatened to break. “I love you, and I’ll be here for you no matter what. As your coach. As your friend. As… whatever you’ll let me be for you, even if it’s just someone who cheers you on from a distance.”
“Even after…” He hesitated, then tried again. “Even after I didn’t respond to your texts.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head slowly. “The way I feel doesn’t change. And that means when you need me like you said you needed me now, I’m going to move heaven and earth to get to you. Or… or do whatever it is you need.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I thought…” He dropped his gaze, some color blooming in his otherwise pale cheeks. With a dry laugh, he said, “I thought you’d want to fuck when you got here.”
“Only if that’s what you want.”
He looked at me through his lashes.
“I knew it was a possibility when I came,” I said. “That you’d want sex. Maybe as a distraction. Maybe…” I waved my hand. “But I also knew you might just want to curse out the reporter and then order pizza. All I knew for sure was that you wanted me to be here.”
Devon swallowed like it took some work. Then he reached for my hand, and I thought his fingers trembled as they laced between mine. “I didn’t know what I needed either. Just… you.” His jaw worked. When he looked at me again, there was a definite shine of tears in his eyes. “I didn’t know I needed to hear the rest of that.”
My heart thundered against my ribs as I squeezed his hand. I didn’t know what to say. Not just what he needed to hear, but what I could even put into words.
Finally, he took a deep breath. “Thank you for being here. And… for being someone it was so fucking easy to fall in love with.”
