Page 102 of Over the Line

“We’re, uh…” I scratched the back of my head. “We’re not really ready to be out, you know? As a couple? Maybe if my life was halfway normal …”

Mom sighed. “I understand that. Just being Liam St. Clair’s parents has meant some… adjustments over the last twenty years. Being Liam St. Clair’s boyfriend?” She grimaced. “I don’t imagine many people are ready for that reality.”

“Exactly,” I whispered. “It was hard on Tristan, I think. And like, once we let that cat out of the bag…”

She nodded. “I’m sure. Though if you try to keep a lid on it for too long, there’s always the chance it’ll come out without your consent.”

I shuddered, rolling my shoulders beneath my hoodie. I had a sudden flash of Jack Arlen sniffing around for gossip, and my blood turned cold. Fuck, what if he caught this scent? To my mom, I said, “Yeah. That’s what I’m afraid of, too.” With a hollow, humorless laugh, I added, “And people wonder why I haven’t had a boyfriend in years. It’s hard enough to manage a relationship without the media breathing down my neck, you know?”

“I believe that.” She studied me. “Well, I hope you two get to a point where you want to come out. You deserve to be happy out in the open.”

I smiled despite the knot of guilt in my stomach. I couldn’t explain to her that there were more contributing factors to our secrecy than fame or sexuality. Or maybe the fact that I was too ashamed or scared or God knew what to tell my mom that I was dating my teammate’s dad should be a sign. A sign that we should come clean? One that we should quit before we hurt someone? Fuck if I knew.

“I hope we can come out eventually,” I said quietly. “We’re just… We’re not ready for that. Hopefully we will be before someone outs us.”

“Well, you’ve always been pretty good at laying low when you need to. Just staying off social media probably helps a lot.”

“I don’t know if it helps me stay off people’s radars, but I’m pretty sure it’s good for my mental health.”

“Probably, yes.” She tilted her head, still studying me. “Is there something bothering you? About this relationship? Or is it just the public side?”

Damn. She was good. Always had been.

I shifted my weight. “Not… not the relationship itself. Not…” I chewed the inside of my cheek, not sure how far to tip my hand. Especially since, now that she had me thinking about it, there was something bothering me that I hadn’t let myself dwell on.

Mom watched me, concern written all over her face. “What is it, honey?”

“I…” Hell, if I couldn’t tell my mom, who could I tell? Pulling in a deep breath, I met her gaze. “Being with him is totally worth the stress and the secrecy. It really is.” I swallowed hard. “I just wonder sometimes if being with me is worth all that.”

Mom’s lips parted. Then she stepped closer and touched my arm. “Of course it is. I know I’m biased because you’re my son, but you’ve grown into a wonderful man who anyone would be lucky to have as his boyfriend. Yes, your career adds some complications, but everyone has complications in their life.”

“Not everyone has cameras and gossip columnists frothing at the mouth for dirt on them.”

“No, but people have financial struggles. They have kids from previous relationships. They have family difficulties.” She huffed a quiet laugh. “Do you think your brother and sister-in-law had an easy time?”

That was valid. Heather had two kids from a previous marriage, an ex-husband from hell, and the most obnoxious family I’d ever met. Her father had even cornered me at the wedding and tried to convince me to get Heather’s brother into the League. Then he’d posted a bunch of crap on social media about how I wouldn’t even help family get into my sport, that I was an elitist asshole, and how I was happy to watch them struggle financially instead of helping one of them score a lucrative contract. Brock adored Heather, and he treated Caden and Ella like his own. I knew for a fact, though, that her ex and her family had put a massive strain on their marriage a few times.

It was hard to imagine someone thinking I was worth the price of admission—the public bullshit and scrutiny, the demands of a hockey career, the constant physical limitations—but maybe Garrett thought I was. He had stuck around so far, after all, even after we barely got to see each other.

Sighing, I nodded. “Point taken.”

She squeezed my arm, then let go. “Right. So don’t start doubting that you’re someone who’s worth the price of admission.” She paused, and a little smile came to life. “The way your eyes light up every time you get a text, I’m thinking he puts in more than enough effort to show you’re worth it.”

My heart fluttered, and I couldn’t help smiling myself. “He, uh… He does put in a lot of effort.” I paused before softly adding, “Maybe I am worth it to him. I don’t know.”

“Of course you are.” She waved a hand. “He’s texting you on Christmas and making you blush.”

I laughed as some renewed heat rose in my face. Couldn’t really argue with her, could I?

“Come on,” she said. “Your coffee is getting cold.”

It had cooled a little, and I picked it up off the counter and followed her back into the living room. As I settled on the couch, I pulled out my phone. I reread the messages Garrett and I had been exchanging about killing a bottle of wine together.

LOL Yeah maybe not worth it.

On the other hand… it COULD be fun.

Laughing softly, I started typing out a response. Shortly after I’d sent it, Garrett replied, and we kept going like that throughout the day. Sometimes one of us would go quiet for a while because we were spending time with our families. But still, there was a steady trickle of messages—a steady undercurrent of constant contact—with him even while we couldn’t be together.