Page 65 of Two for Holding
The locker room tension gave way to jubilant relief in the aftermath.Jax didn’t mind when he got pulled for media; he’d gotten first star of the game, though he thought it should have gone to Tom, who got second.The two of them crowded next to each other on a locker room bench while the reporters arranged themselves in front of them in a semicircle.
“Jax, what were you thinking when you sent Tom the assist for what ended up being the game-winning goal?”
“I wasn’t really thinking.”Jax would probably regret the word choice later.He could already see himself becoming a meme.“I just…knew Tom would be there.”
The reporters turned to Tom.
“We’ve heard some criticism of Jax this last week for being impulsive,” Olivia Starling said.“How do you think his impulsivity plays out on the ice?”
Tom considered.“I’m the kind of player who thinks everything through.And Jax has been very patient with me.He lets me bug him on the plane to go over video and stuff.But he doesn’t really need to; he’s got such great hockey IQ all on his own, you know?And would you call it impulsivity if your instincts are fed by years of experience, of knowing yourself, your team, and the game?”
The interview went on with questions they’d both been asked hundreds of times.Yes, the team showed up and played a full sixty minutes.Yes, the back-check could use a little work.No, they weren’t guaranteeing Luca would stay on the first D-pair forever, but so far they were thrilled with the results.No, they didn’t know when Phil Easton would be back.
Jax couldn’t concentrate on any of it.Tom had played a game likethat, and then he’d gone in front of a microphone and saidthatabout Jax?Casually taking everything Jax hated about himself and turning it into a compliment?
With only a hair’s breadth of space between their bare legs, Jax could feel the heat emanating from Tom’s skin.He could smell the stupid body wash he used even though he didn’t like it.Jax wanted to inch closer, to let their thighs press together on the bench.He wanted to put his hands there on the soft, hidden skin.
He kept his hands on his own lap and his eyes on the camera.
The team had to celebrate Luca’s first NHL goal.In the name of bonding, Jax agreed to join them.He made sure to sit on the opposite end of the table from Tom.He didn’t think he’d be able to take it otherwise.Not for a full evening.He drank his beer—regular, not light; he couldn’t deny himself everything all at once; he wasn’t Tom—and teased Luca for only making it on an empty net.
“I suppose I will have to keep trying,” Luca said.Flushed with alcohol and pleased with how the game had gone, he didn’t even mock Breezy too much over his sudden crisis of faith about Chloe.It turned out the great-grandmother she thought was from Messina actually came from La Massana, which wasn’t even in Italy.
Mooney and Howie stood at the bar, trying to chat up two women who were clearly out of their league but might be interested in telling their friends they’d hooked up with professional athletes.Jax was glad to see their friendship had survived intact.Dmitriyev hovered beside them, silent.Jax couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bit.He knew a Russian guy on the team in Philly who swore up and down the best way to get girls was by using the line, “Sorry, no English,” despite being fluent.Dmitriyev didn’t seem the type for subterfuge, but you never knew.He and Vanderbilt were friendly, which could only mean questionable things about Dmitriyev’s sexual history.
Jax looked away.If he didn’t see what they got up to, he wouldn’t have to think about it later.He had no intention of ruining his perfectly happy position, surrounded by team members.Phil Easton ruled over their table, a benevolent king with everyone except Tom, whom he reminded every ten minutes or so that he’d been right and didn’t even need to be in skates to win the damn game for them.
It was a good evening.
Good enough to make Jax complacent.When Phil caught a ride home with Vanderbilt and Hayes stepped out to meet Allie, he found himself suddenly alone in the booth with Tom.Howie, Dmitriyev, and Mooney had left for a club with the girls they’d been talking to.Only Breezy and Luca remained, sitting at the far end of the table and debating intensely whether the best pizza in the world could come from Montreal.This topic had them so intent on each other they didn’t notice when Tom turned to Jax.
“The shelter…you start in ten days, right?”This was the first time Tom had asked about anything to do with the shelter.
“Yeah?”
“Hmm.Are you coming over tonight?”
Jax swallowed tightly.He wanted to—God, did he want to—but… “I don’t know if I can.”
“Why not?”
“You were so fucking good tonight, Tom.And I don’t wanna take things too far, or—or fuck things up, and I don’t trust myself.”
Tom blinked.He had these long, sooty eyelashes.Jax wondered what they’d look like with mascara.He bet Tom would be fucking gorgeous.Not that he wasn’t already.“Don’t trust yourself how?”
“If I go home with you, I’m gonna want more than kissing,” Jax said, low and fervent.
When Tom didn’t answer, the words kept coming though Jax tried to fight it, aware he could scare Tom off for good.
“I…fuck, Tom, I wanna get on my knees for you.I wanna swallow you down and make you feel like you won the Stanley fucking Cup of blow jobs.I want you to pull my hair and make noise for me and tell me how good I am for you—”
The table shifted when Tom banged his knee into it.
Luca and Breezy glanced up, momentarily distracted from their debate about whether there was such a thing as authentic cheese-stuffed crust.
“Sorry,” Tom said.“Guess I’m a little tired.I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
He slid out of the booth without a backward glance.
