Page 86 of Ethan

ARE you being pathetic?

just feeling a little bit sorry for myself.

after the three assists you had tonight?

doesn’t feel like it’s good enough.

And there it was. That was the thing that was bothering him, that had made him want, more than he usually did, to crawl back to his shitty hotel room, pull the covers over his head and try to zone out as Bo listened to his stupid fucking meditations.

Nothing he was doing felt like enough; likehewasn’t good enough.

you’re wrong. you’re second on the team in points, and first in plus minus. Inverness is gonna get his head out of his ass, eventually. i swear. it’s NOT you.

Bo returned then, carrying two beers.

“Do you even know how many women have looked over here in the last five minutes?” Bo asked, sounding exasperated. “What’s up with their sudden obsession with gingers? Maybe I should dye my hair red.”

Hank rolled his eyes and took one of the beers. “You’re fucking stupid,” he said. “Even if you did, and even if they were all over you, what are you gonna do with them? Take them back to our room and let them borrow an earbud?”

“Ouch,” Bo said, but he was still grinning.

“You’re a dick,” Hank muttered.

“Maybe, but tonight, you’re the one sitting here acting like a dick,” Bo pointed out dryly.

“I got a second beer,” Hank defended.

He glanced down at his text convo with Ethan. Ethan’s words soothed, because they usually did. He knew what to say to him, but Hank needed to figure out what the fuck to say tohimself.

thx,he texted back.needed that.

Ethan sent a thumbs-up and then a heart, and Hank didn’t need a dictionary to understand what both of those meant, sent together.

“Listen, I know you’re some big-shot guy, first-round pick, gonna end up on the Bandits’ roster, sooner rather than later. Gonna be all chummy with the Barnes bros. Be famous. Probably end up on the cover of a video game.”

Hank made a scoffing noise.

“Just saying. Remember us little people when you’re big and rich and famous, okay?”

“You’re still a dick,” Hank said.

“When you’re pulling in as many girls as you want. When you’ve got that hot WAG at home.” Bo shot him a knowing glance.

Hank sighed, suddenly just very tired of all this bullshit. He was tired of pretending. Tired of not being with Ethan, but also just fucking sick of acting like what was happening wasn’t happening at all. “What if she wasn’t blond or a WAG? What if she wasn’t asheat all?”

Bo raised an eyebrow. “Oh, are we talking about it now? Your obvious obsession with the littlest Barnes?”

“Shut up,” Hank muttered. “It’s not . . . we’refriends. But yeah, I guess so. ’Cause if I was in New York, then . . . yeah. Yeah.”

But Bo only grinned at him, like he wasn’t bothered at all. Of course Bo wasn’t bothered; Bo was too weird to be homophobic.He’d say,I see your preoccupation with dick and raise you my entire personality.

“So that’s why you’re pouting. You miss your boy.”

“He’s not my—” Hank broke off. But Ethan kinda was, and he was tired of pretending otherwise. “Yeah,” he said instead.

So this was how it felt to come out. It felt . . .well, not that different. He kinda felt the same as he had five minutes ago. He was still missing Ethan. Still annoyed that Inverness hadn’t called yet. Still wishing that first line would fucking watch their zone entries and stop making such sloppy decisions that Hank had to clean up after the fact.

“Thought so,” Bo said smugly. He tipped the neck of his beer bottle against Hank’s, clanking them together. “Congrats, man. He’s hot. And rich and famous. See, this is why you’re gonna get there, too. No way Inverness leaves you here, not when you could have an in with the Barneses.”