Page 59 of The Call-Up
“Ryan’s leaving soon,” he says. “Do you want to come out and say goodbye?”
My teeth clench and I shake my head no as I try to swallow the extra saliva that has collected in my mouth. I don’t know if I can do it. I’m barely holding it together right now. Saying goodbye to Ryan will officially break me. And when that happens, I’ll have to explain to everybody why.
Ander grabs my knee and pinches it, forcing me to look at him. I expect to see him angry with me, maybe even disgusted. Instead, he’s giving me his stupid goofy grin. The same one he wears when we’re practicing our skills on the driveway. “It’ll hurt more tomorrow if you don’t go say goodbye.”
“What would you know about that?” I roll my sore, red, watery eyes at him. The motion causes a tear to break free and run down my face.
“Nothing,” he admits. “But I’m not dumb. I’ve watched enough movies to recognize what you’re going through.” He bumps my knees again with his. “Go tell him goodbye. You’ll feel better.”
“I doubt that,” I say as I attempt to dry my cheeks with the heels of my hands.
He stands up then reaches his hand down for me to grab to haul myself up. “Go take some deep breaths and splash some water on your face. I’ll tell them you were taking a shit or something.”
“Perfect.” I laugh, but it’s weak.
He pauses when he gets to the door, then turns around and looks at me. “It’s alright, you know?”
I take a deep breath and swallow thickly, surprised at how willingly Ander accepts the truth of why I’m so gutted. “I know,” I say, feeling somewhat better.
He knocks on the door frame twice then turns back around to leave. “I’ll stall them for as long as I can. But you better get out there soon before Mom comes and finds you like this.”
I take another deep breath. “I just need a minute. I’ll be out right behind you.”
TWENTY-FOUR
Ryan
It’s good to be back on the road again. I know a lot of teams still in this race are beginning to crave rest, but not us. We want to keep our momentum going. It’s going to be crucial for getting us through the next round.
Plus, at home, while playing in front of our home crowd is amazing, for a lot of the players, there are distractions. A lot of them. And yes, I can already hear people complaining about us hockey players leaving our wives and kids at home for long stretches, but let’s be real. The WAGs knew what they signed up for when they got into relationships with us.
Well, not me, obviously. Honestly, if the rest of the team knew that being gay and falling for your teammate was the cheat code to having a sexually fulfilling road life, more of them might even wish they were.
“What time is it?” Brandon mumbles against my chest.
“Almost ten.”
His stomach rumbles. “What time are we meeting my parents for breakfast?”
“I don’t know,” I laugh. “They’re your parents. You figure that out.”
I feel him grumble against my skin but can’t quite make out his response. It’s funny, for someone who grew up having driveway shootout practice first thing in the morning every day as a child, and who up until recently was incapable of taking a nap, suddenly all he wants to do is sleep in.
He reaches over me to where our phones are charging on the bedside table, then rolls onto his back beside me, resting his head on my pillow. He types out a text and is given an instant response.
“They’re ten minutes out.”
“Jesus,” I say and sit up to get out of bed. “What did they do, leave at sunrise?”
“You know that’s exactly what they did,” Brandon says, making no effort to get out of bed.
I toss his Mules hoodie and sweatpants at him. “Get dressed.”
He eyes the clothes. “Are you sure you want me to wear this in enemy territory?”
“Good point.” I reach into his bag to grab something else, only to find his other option is his red tattered UDub sweats. I toss them aside. “Well, those aren’t going to help either. Did you bring anything else to wear besides suits and threadbare sweats?”
He finally sits up and shrugs at me with an innocent smile on his face. “No.”
