Page 82 of Coast to Coast

So, instead of moping that night, I had dinner with friends, texted my girl, and squeezed in a goodnight FaceTime session with my son.

I sent Callie the video chat call before realizing she was probably asleep.

“Hey,” she said, her face dim on the screen. The room she was in was dark.

“Are you in bed?” I asked.

“Yes, I was reading my Kindle. But just realized I read the same line four times. I’m exhausted.”

“Whatcha reading?” I wondered what type of dark romance she had picked up this time.

“Oh, it’s a hockey romance. I figured it might help me learn about the sport,” she answered shyly.

“Is it working?”

“Meh. I mean, this one is a bit more focused on sucking dick than stick work.”

“More sticking than body checking?” I asked.

“Unless it’s checking body cavities, then it’s got plenty of that,” she answered with a laugh. “Hey, are you in my bed?”

“Yeah, do you mind?”

“No, but your bed is so much better than mine.”

“My bed didn’t smell like you, so there’s that.”

After giving up the bed for my mother and having the sheets freshly cleaned today, I found no trace of Callie’s scent remaining.

“I miss you too,” she whispered.

“Go to sleep, Cal. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

As I hung up with her, I held back the impulse to say the words that felt natural, though wrong to say for the first time when there were thousands of miles between us.

Shit, I loved her.

CALLIOPE

We’d been back in Boston for a couple of weeks. The start of hockey season coincided with the baseball playoffs. Here I was, someone where these two events meant more than what was playing on TV. It had become what drove my life.

Being in Boston, watching Tom play on the local channels wasn’t the easiest. I had quietly invested in a streaming service to watch every game that played and nearly tossed my iPad when I realized that the local team’s broadcasting company blacked out other games while the Bears were playing.

As expected, Kelsey gave me far more time off than necessary or wanted, so I took advantage of my free time and wrote my ass off. I completed the lyrics for at least three songs and was close to finishing the music, just trying to perfect the melody.

Tom and I talked twice daily and texted as often as his schedule allowed. I was counting down the days until I met him in Vancouver. During our calls, he occasionally let me see his emotional strain, but when I was lucky enough to watch him play, his game was just as fierce as always. I knew from our late-night chats that the game was his sole focus when he was on the ice. I envied him a bit for that. I loved performing, but I was verymuch aware that I was performing. There wasn’t a switch that went on and off. I couldn’t play music and block out the world.

I was headed down to the kitchen where Sam, Kelsey, and Crew were eating breakfast.

“Dada kissed Kiwi,” Crew announced.

I stopped short when I heard Crew outing us. Fuck. We hadn’t been careful enough around him, and he’d walked in on us more than a few times. I thought we’d covered it up well enough. I slowly backed down the hallway, trying not to eavesdrop and wanting to escape before they realized I was there. I couldnothave this conversation before I talked to Tom.

“Did he?” Sam asked.

“Ya. Lots. They kissed lots.”

Oh buddy, I plead silently. Please, not now. We’re not ready yet.

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