Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Lie.
Keep lying. Reiterate the story Mason made up about checking out my property and inviting himself for dinner. That would indicate that we were friendly at the very least. That was okay, right? Smitty would buy it, or he’d go along with it…for now.
And soon, none of this would matter because this thing between us had a finite shelf life, so who cared?
I opened my mouth, but Smitty beat me to it.
“Mason?”
“Uh, yeah.” I swallowed hard and gestured toward the remains of our dinner. “Sure you don’t want something to eat?”
Oh, no. My voice squeaked.
Smitty lifted a brow, quietly shooing Nathan off to play with his sisters and perching on the edge of the bench. “I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess you don’t hate him anymore.”
“Um…no. I like him…fine.” This was where I should add that he was still annoying and that he’d barged in, demanded food, and made himself at home. The lies wouldn’t come. Neither did the truth, though.
And there was something kind of terrible about lying to a man who’d come out in his thirties, married a man, adopted three children, and made a whole new life for himself. My silence was more than dishonest, it was…scummy.
Smitty inclined his head. “I figured you’d come around. Mason is a good guy.”
“Right.”
“You look nervous, Jake,” Smitty observed quietly. “There’s no need to be.”
Tell that to my skyrocketing heart rate. “I’m just—fuck it. We’re friends…good friends, and we have been for a while.”
“Cool.”
I didn’t have to say anything else. He didn’t expect it.
“I like him,” I admitted, licking my dry lips.
Smitty dropped onto the bench across from me. “Does your dad know?”
“That I’m bi? Or that I’m attracted to my former enemy? It’s a no to both,” I reported, swiping my hand through my hair.
“Hmm.” Smitty watched the kids running around the yard.
“Don’t say anything to him. Please.”
Smitty frowned. “I wouldn’t. That’s your story to tell, but…why wouldn’t you want to come out to your dad?”
“ ’Cause he’ll worry about me.”
“True. Does um…does Trinsky feel the same way?” He winced. “You don’t have to answer.”
No doubt my silence spoke loud and clear. God, this was awkward.
“Being friends with him is enough of a scandal.” How was that for a non-answer?
“Ahh, well…if you feel like talking to anyone, I’m here.” He patted my hand. “So’s your dad. Let’s go, kiddos!”
Smitty marched the kids out like well-trained troops while I stood by, unable to string together a cohesive sentence.
I picked at my kabob, staring at the wood-grain picnic table, my mind whirling at top speeds. Someone knew about us. Someone I trusted. The sky hadn’t fallen, and no one had died. Don’t get me wrong, it still felt dangerous and unsettled, but I wasn’t afraid and I wondered what, if anything, that meant.
23
JAKE
“Weren’t we supposed to take the kids to the diner for shakes after practice?”
I stole the puck from Trinsky and passed it to Eli, who sped away with one last glance over his shoulder as if worried Denver’s forward was about to come after him with guns blazing.
“Yep.” Trinsky slowed at center ice with his hands on his hips. “You jonesin’ for chocolate?”
“Chocolate peanut butter with chocolate chips.”
“Dude, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
“Right?” I brushed his shoulder, sliding my pinky finger along his. “Cradle the puck, Jensen. Don’t push it.”
We separated, cheering Eli’s goal and finding each other again when Dimistri, a D-man from Pittsburgh ran through a spiel about the defense’s breakdown.
“You’re killing me, Jakey,” he hummed, eyes on the teens a few feet away.
“Sorry. It’s your fault for not coming by last night.”
“Denny and Hank were at Annie’s and stopped by afterward. It felt like a hostage situation. I couldn’t leave without a good story, and I didn’t have one of those. I told you Annie’s on to me. And by the way, if you give me another hickey, I’m gonna have to kick your ass.”
I laughed aloud and all heads swiveled in our direction. I made up for it by slugging him in the arm, but it was a weak gesture. In fact, it was beginning to feel like the cat was out of the bag. Well, partially anyway.
Trinsky and I were friends—and after getting caught by Smitty and the kids, I’d officially given up the pretense. It was hard enough to keep my distance and not stare at his sexy body during camp time. I couldn’t do that and act like I hated him too. Yeah, there’d be no Oscar wins in my future.
“I’d love to see you try.” I checked the time, bumping his elbow. “See you at the diner.”
We took our skates off and waited for our campers in the lobby before trudging as a group a few blocks to the Elmwood Diner. We’d done this a few times. JC’s poutine and large shakes were a camp staple.