Page 8 of Man Advantage

He wanted Ford. Wanted his hands and his mouth and the whole solid weight of him, low in the gut where there was no talking it down. He’d wanted him since about the third week, if he were honest with himself. He’d spent every week since making himself useful and easy and no trouble to keep around, so Ford never went looking for a reason to get sick of him.

He picked up his water. He laughed at the right time when Vargas got to the part about Duluth.

Now it was Russ who quirked an eyebrow, as if silently asking Cole if he was okay. While it was likely nothing, he couldn’t help but feel like everyone at the table suddenly knew about the feelings he harbored.

“You’re quiet,” Ford said, leaning in close enough that no one else could hear him. “You want to get out of here?”

Cole shook his head. “Nah, long day on the ice is all.”

“Deluca’s got a mean streak he’s been saving up.”

Ford’s thumb tapped once on the vinyl behind Cole’s shoulder, there and gone. Then he was telling Beaudry about a coach he’d had in Sioux City who called a six a.m. skate for Christmas morning and stood at the door making them thank him on the way off.

Eventually, everyone started making their excuses, and it was time to go home. Outside, the cold off the water cut straight through his jacket. Trucks fired up across the gravel. Guys peeled off with a horn and a finger out the window, and then it was down to Cole’s truck and the two of them climbing in.

“I gotta stop at the store,” Cole said, keys already in his hand. “Charlotte’s out of cereal.”

“She’s at Nadine’s till Thursday.”

“Yeah, but if I get it now, there’s no chance I’ll forget.”

He put the truck in gear and didn’t think about why he was buying a six-year-old’s cereal on a night she wasn’t home to eat any. Ford, to his lasting credit, didn’t point out that it wasn’t his responsibility to buy food for Ford’s kid.

The house was dark when they came in. Charlotte wasn’t there to hit every switch she passed, and neither of them reached for more than the kitchen light. Ford went off to change into something more comfortable.

Ford’s phone lit up on the counter a minute later with Nadine’s name across it. Ford returned and answered on the second ring, his whole voice going up half a register for Charlotte and warm the entire way through. “Hey, bug. You brush? All of them? Even the way-back ones?”

He drifted off toward the front room. Cole heard her small voice going a mile a minute out of the speaker, and then he heard his own name come out of it.

“She wants you,” Ford said, holding the phone out, something careful in his face that Cole was too raw to read.

Charlotte filled the screen, too close, one wet strand of hair pasted to her forehead. “Big Cole. Mom won’t let me bring the hamster home.”

“Sounds like a good call by your mom.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m on the hamster’s side. He’s got a good thing going at school.”

She scowled, her expression quickly morphing into something far more somber. “Are you gonna be there when I come back?”

“Of course.”

“Promise?” She pushed in closer to the screen. “You gotta say the whole thing, or it doesn’t count.”

“I promise I’ll be here,” Cole said.

That seemed to be enough to appease her. She yawned enormously, told him the hamster’s name was Beans, and got carried off to bed. The screen went dark. Cole handed the phone back and carefully avoided making eye contact with Ford. He didn’t want him to see the way his heart was breaking at the thought of leaving Charlotte behind.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Ford said, low.

“Do what?”

“Promise her things.” He said it gently, but Cole could see that it cost him something to say. “If you’re going, go. Don’t let her get any more used to you than she already is.”

“You’ve been saying that since October.”

“I know. I’m saying it again.”