Page 18 of Crossing Lines

“What’s that?” He plucked a fry from his bag, pursed his lips, and ate it.

“Do better.” I freed a soft snort. I’d heard of a player in the NHL using that tactic and I’d wanted to try it. “Every time he comes at me, I just say,Can’t you do better than that?Or,What’s holding you back?” I sipped my tea.

He picked up another fry, turned it in his fingers while twitching his lips, then set it back down.

“Something wrong with the fries?” I arched a brow at him. Along with the burgers, this place had the best damn fries. Okay, McDonald’s was a close second when they were piping hot, but damn.

“No gravy around here. I haven’t found one place that serves gravy with fries.” His gaze met mine and a smirk teased his plump lips.

“Gravy?” I scoffed a laugh. “Shit, now you sound like Myles. He likes his fries that way too.” Though Myleswasraised in Vancouver. I rested my elbow on the table and wagged my fingers at his food. “Myles actually bought some gravy for the house that he heats up when he brings fries home to eat.”

“Yeah, good idea. I’ll get some for my apartment and start taking food home.” He ate the last of his burger.

“Where do you live?” I squeezed some ketchup into my bag and dunked some fries into it. Speaking of things to put on fries…

“Those new apartments down the street. The Apollo?” He crumpled up his bag.

“Yeah? That’s a nice place.” I drank my tea, then ate a bite of my burger. He was obviously done eating. Would he stay longer to chat?

“I’m liking it there. I like being close to everything. I grew up in a rural area.” He perused the restaurant, then focused on me and set his elbows on the table, tenting his hands over hiscrinkled bag. “How about you? Are you a city boy or from the suburbs?”

Shrugging a shoulder, I said, “I grew up in the suburbs, but it was only a quick bus ride to downtown Minneapolis.” My heart swelled with warmth. He was sticking around to talk to me.

He tilted his head. “You ever been to the Gay Nineties down there on what was it…?”

“Hennepin Avenue?” I lifted the corner of my mouth. “I think every queer person in the state has been there at some point.” I shoved some fries into my mouth. The club was one of the oldest gay bars in the Twin Cities and had to have been the largest. “I take it you’ve been?”

Nodding, he said, “Yeah, whenever we played a game in the area, that’s where I’d head.” He chuckled. “Mind you, I didn’t hook up with anyone. I had a boyfriend waiting at home.” His grin faded.

“Yeah?” Finally, I was going to get some answers. I drank my tea. “How long were you together?” I took a bite of my burger.

“About six years, give or take.” He furrowed his brows. “We still talk. He’s a good friend now.”

“Yeah? What’s his name?” I was pretty sure he was talking about the guy named Laurent on his Instagram account. Not that I’d stalked both of them…yeah, I had. I wiped my fingers on a napkin and dropped some fries into my ketchup.

“Laurent.” He poked a wrinkle in his bag. “He helped me out of a really bad place.” His brows snapped together. “After my knee injury, I was pretty lost.” His gaze rose to mine.

The spark had gone from his eyes. “I bet. It was a career-ending injury, right?” I thought back to what Myles had said about it. “Does it still hurt to talk about?” It sure as hell looked to me like it did.

“Naw.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I like what I’m doing now.” He gave a short laugh. “I probably would have ended up coaching even if I had gone to the NHL.”

I nodded slowly. Should I bring up what I already knewabout him? I ran my fingers up and down my iced tea glass. “So, what happened exactly?”

Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat. “I tore my ACL in a juniors’ game. This guy, Chad Baker was his name, came out of nowhere and checked me.” He dipped his brows. “I can’t remember exactly what happened, but my skate caught on something and torqued my knee. It hurt like a motherfucker.” He shook his head, blowing out a breath, his gaze affixed to the table. “I had surgery, and while it was healing, like a dumbass, I wasn’t wearing my brace, and I slipped on some ice in a stairway and fell. I tore it all over again.” He scowled. “It was so stupid, but you know, at eighteen, you think you’re invincible.” His gaze locked on mine and he bit his lower lip.

“Jesus, I’m sorry. That sucks.” As my chest ached for him, I reached my hand out to cover his, resting on the table, then drew it back.What are you doing, Jonah?

He dropped his hands to his lap and brushed his palms over his thighs. “Anyway, it’s done, and I’ve accepted things.” He scanned around us, then his attention drew to me. “How’s your career been? Any injuries?”

“No, not really. I tweaked a hammy at practice a week or so ago, but that’s feeling better.” I’d been fucking lucky so far. I twisted my lips. Or maybe too careful? “I mean, sure, I get bruised up like all the guys but nothing major so far.” I knocked on the table. “Knock on wood.” I ate the last bite of my burger. I wanted to ask more about his boyfriend. Was it too personal?

He chuckled. “Yeah, you don’t want to jinx yourself.”

“So, uh, what happened with Laurent?” Shit, I’d just blurted that out. I held my palm up to him. “Y-you don’t have to tell me. I’m just, uh, curious.”

Chewing his lower lip, he eyed me. “We grew apart. The relationship sort of came to a natural and probably inevitable end.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t because he didn’t want to move down here with you…?” With a wince, I drank my tea, making a crackling sound through the straw as I sucked the rest of it up. Shit, we were both done eating. My time with him was almost done.

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