Page 30 of Two for Holding
He lay awake, going over every conversation he’d ever had with Tom.The way Tom shied away from him whenever Jax was too blatant, which he’d taken for a polite man’s form of homophobia, had become a scared man’s way of escaping being known.
He’d never told anyone.
How could he live that way?
Jax didn’t shout it from the rooftops or anything, but he had his family.He had Grindr installed on his phone.He had a half dozen bars and clubs across the US he felt safe frequenting when there for work.He longed for a real community, for a bond with people who knew, actually knew, what it was to be rejected over and over again for who you were.Jax had only glimpsed those kinds of friendships and families in stolen moments in gay bars and stranger’s apartments.But it had been enough to stave off the loneliness.Jax knew how to live off scraps.It was the same as the single order of fries in Juniors.He wasn’t full, but at least he wasn’t starving.
Now, he knew what starving looked like.Starving looked like Tom, standing alone in the rain and hyperventilating because he had never spoken the words aloud before.
Jax wondered what he told his hookups.Did he pretend to be straight and force his way through sex with women?Did he fuck men doggy-style so he could pretend they were women?Did he hook up in dark, shady clubs where no one could see his face?
None of the above matched Tom’s MO.He was a shitty liar and a good person, especially now Jax knew his odd reactions to Jax’s sexuality had nothing to do with homophobia, except for the internal kind.The idea of him compromising his goodness in order to compromise something much bigger made Jax’s stomach hurt.He wanted to spare Tom that kind of hurt, which was ridiculous and stupid.What business did he have trying to comfort Tom?He’d only known Tom for two months and still wasn’t convinced Tom even liked him.Which made sense.Jax threatened the way Tom lived his life, grandstanding about how he wanted to come out someday.
Jax could back off.He could give Tom the space he’d denied him since Tom had first caught him in Edmonton, let things return to their status quo, be an alternate in name only…but Jax didn’t want to.He was a selfish creature, and Tom was the first person he’d met who would really get it.The first person who could be the community he craved.
The thought seduced him into daydreams of the friendship they could have, so intense that Jax hadn’t thought once about Tyson Fuller, the Philadelphia Magpies, and the friends he no longer had here by the time he gave up on sleep at 5:00 a.m.
So, the next morning, when he got down to breakfast and saw Tom sitting alone at a corner table, he dropped into place across from him and dug into a plate of scrambled eggs and whole wheat toast.
“Why do hotel breakfasts always taste of sadness?”he asked with his mouth full.
Tom snorted around his coffee and held a napkin to his face to contain the spill.“I think it’s the reconstituted egg product.”
“Right?”Jax poked at the offending scramble.“I hated the hard-boiled eggs at the hotel in Nashville, but at least they were real food.”
Tom grimaced in agreement.“Do you ever want to say fuck the meal plan and get the pancakes and the pork bacon?”
For a moment, Jax studied him, trying to work out if this was some metaphor shit and Tom meant the bacon as a stand-in for man-meat or something.But Tom looked at him earnestly, no hint of innuendo.
As if he could feel more sorry for this man.
“Yeah, Tom.You wanna know something?”
“Hmm?”
“Sometimes I do say fuck it and get the bacon.”
A wistful expression stole across Tom’s face, and Jax was surer than ever Tom had spent his entire time in the league denying himself every possible pleasure in an effort to be the best hockey robot he could.It made Jax a little insane.He wanted to put Tom in a bathtub full of maple syrup, cover him in bacon strips, and suck his cock.
Jax blinked.
One of those things was not like the others.
It wasn’t as if he’d never noticed Tom before.He’d have to have been blind not to.Tom had a…presence in a room.Tyson, Philly’s captain, acted more authoritative.Coach Trout took pride in being stern and immovable.In contrast, Tom was attentive.He watched and noted everything happening around him, and it made Jax want to show off for him in the worst way, which maybe explained some of his recent behavior.Tom was also tall, stupidly handsome, and very good at hockey, all of which Jax found attractive in a man.He didn’t fuck hockey players as a rule because it was a surefire way to get in trouble, and most of them had other, less desirable traits, such as missing teeth and terrible personalities.But he’d also never known another queer hockey player.
Moreover, Tom desperately needed to be shown a good time and given some joy in life, and Jax specialized in those two things.So, the thoughts playing out across his mind’s eye didn’t mean Jax had a crush or anything.His brain needed to process the new information and did so by examining Tom under the new light his revelation shed.Jax would never act on it.That would be a catastrophe for the team, and they would probably kill each other within a week.Tom was so serious and humorless—no way would he put up with Jax.
The sex would be magnificent, of course.Jax gave himself a half second to mourn it, watching Tom’s mouth as he ate his raspberry yogurt, his lips stained berry-red.Jax could make him feel so good that it might override his innate need for martyrdom.
But it couldn’t happen.
“So, I was thinking,” Jax said casually.“You and me, right?”
Tom froze, spoon halfway to his lips, a deer in the headlights.
Jax had to word this right to avoid being oncoming traffic.No mention of what unified them, nothing that would turn Tom into the scared, shaking shell Jax found on the roof last night.Just the reminder that while they’d been alone before, they weren’t now.
“If the two of us can win it all, we’ll show them.”
