Page 82 of No Pucks

I want to laugh, but it might spook him. “It does matter, and you know we can talk. You can tell me how you feel and be honest about what’s going on with you.”

“Can I? I don’t think you do that with something like this.” He still won’t look at me.

“Something like what?” I ask.

“Whatever it is a guy your age seeks out from one of mine.”

“The fuck? You know, even if this was casual, you know you still get feelings right?” There’s no way I’m letting him off the hook without talking it out. “Just because your generation never went to therapy doesn’t mean you can’t learn to talk about your feelings.”

“Sorry I’m not an iPad baby and didn’t learn about my feelings on Bluey.”

“You should be, and we’re talking about this.” I shove up, hooking my knee over his hips to sit on him.

Anthony narrows his eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me what’s going on with your drunk, emotional ass.”

He pushes the heels of his hands in to his eyes. “Fuck.”

I wait for him to come out with it.

“I didn’t like the idea of you hooking up with someone else.”

“I don’t want to hook up with someone else.” I hadn’t thought it out, but the want just hasn’t been there. “I haven’t thought about anyone. I told you that.”

“I don’t know if that is a temporary thing.” He still isn’t looking at me.

“Do you want it to be more?” I ask, wondering how far I can push this before I scare him off or make him shut down.

“Yes.” He glances up. “And I understand if that’s not what you’re looking for at your age.”

“Good job using your words.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me,” he says through his teeth.

I laugh, laying over him. “I don’t want to see anyone else, and I’d prefer you’re only like this with me.”

“How are you so good at this?” He rolls us to our sides, wrapping around me again.

“Good at what?” I rub our noses together.

“Communication. Better than me.”

“Therapy and practice. Maybe some Bluey.” I wink—I have to give him a hard time. “You should try it.”

“Maybe.”

“Not maybe. You’re making me work on hockey. You should put in some work too.” I yawn.

“I hope you’re not too drunk, or we’re both going to be miserable at your extra practice tomorrow.”

“You really still making me do that? You’re going to be hungover as shit.” I let him pull me back into his chest.

“Damn right, I am, and you’re going to love every minute of it.”

“I’m not sure if I should be hard or scared.”

“Both.”

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