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It was weird enough when he kissed my forehead this morning and told me to stay in bed as long as I needed.
I could have stayed there all day.
Hell, I could have moved myself in while he was gone. But I didn’t.
I may have drifted back to sleep for another couple of hours, but when I did finally wake up, I gathered all my things and made sure to lock up on the way out.
Having access to an NHL legend’s house and spending night after night in his bed is something I don’t think I’ll ever get my head around.
But somehow, it’s my life right now, and I refuse to do anything to fuck it up.
That’s why I’m still keeping the secret of our little online rendezvous.
I need to tell him. I almost have a couple of times, but fear has trapped the words in my throat.
At first, I was scared he would shut down because he told me things when he was a stranger online that he might not have been happy with someone in his real life knowing. But now that we’re closer, I know he’ll be okay with that.
Now, I’m just terrified because I lied to him.
Fuck. If it’s the thing that pops the current bubble we’re living in, I’ll never forgive myself.
There have been so many times when I’ve almost asked about his art, or some of the other things we talked about as strangers. I’ve managed to catch myself thus far, but I know that can’t last forever.
If it weren’t for that canvas in his bedroom, I might believe the whole artist persona was a cover-up. But I know it’s true, and it kills me that it’s something he’s still keeping from me.
He’s opened up so much, shown me so many parts of him that others have never seen, but that is still hidden under lock and key, it seems.
After grabbing my water bottle and squirting some into my mouth, I move over to the mats to do some stretches before heading home.
I’ve still got hours until the game tonight with nothing to do. Sienna is at work, Calvin is at the arena, and Cooper is currently on his way to Denver.
I go as slowly as I can, but I can only put off leaving for so long.
The only thing I’ve got waiting for me is more job hunting and inputting last night’s data into my hockey models.
I am living the fucking dream here.
Cooper and Calvin’s words about putting myself out there for a job with the Vipers continue to float through my mind.
But I can hardly turn up at the arena and ask for a job. Things don’t work like that.
Every day, I check for a vacancy in case a miracle has happened, but it never does. And I fear it never will.
I don’t know that much about the analytics team other than what’s listed online, and while a couple of them are heading toward retirement, it doesn’t mean I stand a chance. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of people out there who would kill for that job. They probably even have experience. All I have is a silly hobby and a compulsion for the numbers involved in the game I love. Cooper and Calvin might have every confidence in me, but they kinda have to; they’re my one-day brother-in-law and my…boyfriend.
Shivers race down my spine at the thought of calling Cooper that. But after everything we’ve confessed to each other about how we’re feeling, surely that’s right?
Unable to stop myself, I pull my cell from my pocket and send what is arguably the most embarrassing message of my life.
Garrett: Are you my boyfriend?
I regret it the second it shows as sent. My heart slams against my ribs as my thumb holds down the message, bringing up the option to unsend.
I hesitate, second-guessing myself, and I quickly realize that I’ve waited too long.
The message shows as read, and then the ominous dots begin bouncing as he types.
Oh my god. This is mortifying.