Page 25 of Two for Holding
Jax opened the door, caught sight of him, and turned away with a groan.Based on the track of shoeprints across the fluffy carpet, he’d been pacing the floor for a while.He still wore his suit, a light gray number with slightly darker pinstripes, and a crisp white shirt.The material strained across his thighs and shoulders.Whoever did Jax’s tailoring had to be utterly obscene.
“What happened out there?”Tom asked.He was pleased, almost proud at how stern his voice sounded.“You can—”
“I know,” Jax said.“I fucked up, Tom.I fucked up, and I let you down, and I’m so sorry.”
Tom blinked.He expected belligerence or anger, not misery.He tried again, gently this time, banking the flames of his own outrage.Jax didn’t need to be yelled at; he needed a friend.A confidante.Tom could be that for him.“You can do better.”
“I know I can.I…” Abruptly, Jax collapsed at the end of the bed, hunched over, feet dangling off the side.“I met up with them after practice.My old team.”
Carefully, gingerly, Tom sat beside him.“It didn’t go well?”
A snort of derisive laughter emerged from Jax’s throat.“Fuller fucking hates me.”
Tom had no idea how he should respond.
“I don’t care about people hating me,” Jax said, which—well, it simply wasn’t true.Tom had never met anyone who went out of his way to be liked quite as much as Jax.Jax had spent days trying to find out why Tomdidn’tlike him and had done everything he could to fix it, albeit in the most roundabout way possible.
“I know it’s going to happen, I get it, okay?”Jax continued.“You don’t get to the top with everyone loving you.But it’s…it’s just notfair.”He pushed one of his big, square-fingered hands through his hair, leaving it disheveled and falling over his eyes.Tom wanted to push it out of the way for him.Tom wanted to wrap an arm around him.Tom wanted to hold him.
“What…” Tom started to ask, but Jax beat him to it again.
“He thinks I asked for the trade.He thinks I wanted it.To play for a contender rather than the team that drafted me.”
“Oh.”
Jax got to his feet again, resumed pacing.“And what do I even say?If I tell him I didn’t want it, he asks me why.And then I have to tell him I fucked up and some guy threatened to put pictures of my dick on Twitter, and I freaked out and told PR, and it got me fucking traded when I should have waited it out.And then what?”
He glared at Tom, his eyes bright with anger.
“I don’t know, Jax.”
“Then he gets to hate me for something true, and I’d rather he hate me for a lie, so I have to play along and pretend I chose any of this.But I can’t live this way, Tom!I want to be out, I want not to care about all this shit, but every time I think about actually doing it, I find some reason it’s not the right time or the right way.”
“Jax.”Tom stood, reached out awkwardly.He put his hand on Jax’s shoulder, and Jax melted under his touch.He swayed forward, leaning into Tom’s space.He smelled of some stupidly expensive brand of aftershave, and Tom wanted—wanted—
He wrenched away, took a step back.
Jax laughed, a bitter, hollow sound.“And the only person whodoesknow is my fucking team captain who claims he’s not a homophobe but can’t stand to touch a queer man.”
Something broke in Tom then.Something he’d hidden under his skin when he was eighteen, pimply, and with the worst haircut anyone had ever had, standing on the draft stage and going first overall to the Sea Lions.Something he’d kept safe within himself while he shut out more and more of the world around him.Something that had risen up through his gut, starting the moment he’d leaped in to defend Jax in St.Louis, and grew and grew, taking on the shape of anger to disguise its true form: fear and hurt and shame.He opened his mouth, and before he could think it through, that broken piece leapt right off his lips.
“I’m not a homophobe, Jax.I’m fucking gay, all right?”
six
Kayleigh [off-screen]: Okay, Hayesie, would you rather play with too-small skates or too-big gloves?
Hayes: Gloves all the way.If my skates don’t fit right, I can’t concentrate on shit.I’m falling on my face.It’s not a good look.
Kayleigh: Jax, if you couldn’t play center, would you rather be a winger or a D-man?
Jax: Winger.At least I kinda know what to do there.
Kayleigh: Hayesie, red or purple Gatorade?
Hayes: Purple.
Kayleigh: Jax, play in Philly or play in San Francisco?
