Page 17 of Snapping the Ice
“I’m sure.” I raised the corner of my mouth. Was he a little defensive about that? “I’m guessing you have a close relationship with your father?”
“I do.” He nodded and chewed, then gulped his beer down. “I won’t lie. He put a lot of pressure on me and Mason to perform on the ice. But he saw potential in us, and he made sure we had everything we needed to succeed.”
“So, youwantedto play hockey?” I ate more food. I’d seenso many parents who pushed their kids into what they wanted for them. Had his life been that way?
“I did. I love it, everything about it. So does my brother.” He set his fork on his plate. “There’s a camaraderie with hockey players that I don’t think you find anywhere else.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe it’s like that with other sports, too. But I don’t think I’ve seen it as much.” He lifted his brows. “We’re family.”
Did this explain why he felt so strongly about helping me? “It sounds really nice.” He was such a stand-up guy. Not like Tate. My heart twinged and my gaze landed on his generous lips. Too bad he wasn’t queer. “What about your mom?”
He chuckled. “Oh, she’s something. She was what we call a puck bunny.” His smile waned. “She’s quite a looker and I tell ya, do you have any idea what it feels like for dudes to be talking about how hot your mom is?”
“Uh, no.” I stuffed more noodles into my mouth. My mother had been pretty, but now I didn’t know what she looked like.
“Well, I hear it all the time and sometimes I want to smack them. It’s my mom, you know?” He huffed a snort and shook his head, digging into his rice. “Anyway, she hung out at the rink a lot and met my dad. They hit it off, got married and had us. She loves hockey, so she knows almost as much about it as Dad and got us to all our games while Dad traveled with his team.”
“Yeah?” I eyed him. It was easy to see how proud he was of both his parents. He was the opposite of me in that regard. “Your parents raised you well.”
“I guess so.” He twisted his lips. “Ezra, I had it easy. It sounds like what you went through was terrible. But you rose above it. And we can rise above this thing you have with Tate.” He wrapped his hand around my forearm, his gaze softening. “You deserve genuine love.” He swallowed. “I…want to see you happy.” He took a deep breath, his gaze locking on mine. “I like it when you smile.”
My heart flickered like a wild bird, and I gazed deeply into his blue eyes, the lightness a stark contrast from his dark, almost black hair. He was so stunning. “I, uh…” Did he have any idea what he was doing to me? “I’d like to smile. It’s just been a long time since I was happy.” Shit, he dragged the truth right out of me.
“I can see that.” His gaze fell to my lips and lingered. “Ezra, there’s something about you…” He sank his teeth into his lower lip. “Shit, I don’t know.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “Want another beer?” He released my arm and rose from the table.
“I do.” My gaze chased him, focused on the tight muscles of his ass as he pulled out two more beers from the refrigerator. Damn, he was a gay man’s dream with an ass like that.
Setting a beer by my plate, he fell into his chair. “So, tell me more about you.” He snicked his can open. “What was it like before your parents found out about your sexuality and what happened, exactly? How did they find out?” He snickered. “My brother just blurted it out over dinner one day and my dad about lost his shit.”
“Yeah?” I eyed him. “What did you think when he came out?” He seemed close to his brother.
“It solved a lot of questions I had about him.” He sipped his beer. “He always rejected the puck bunnies at the rink and had these guys hanging around.”
I tapped my finger on the edge of my plate. “And this was in Connecticut?” He was raised in a different world from me.
“Yeah, mostly. That’s where we settled after Dad retired from playing hockey.” He leaned in closer, focusing on me. “Tell me what happened. What was it like for you?”
My chest squeezed as the memoriesflooded my mind. With a deep breath, I said, “I hid myself all the way into high school. There’s a lot of homophobia where I lived. We were working class.” I drank my beer. I wanted to tell him all of it. He was so sincere, and it seemed like he’d understand and wouldn’t judge. “My parents both worked in the auto industry. Manufacturing. Dad built engines for Toyota and Mom assembled some of the other parts, I don’t know. I think they moved her around a lot on the floor.”
“Wow, so they might have helped build a car I’ve ridden in.” He ate the last bites of his food.
“Maybe.” I’d never considered that. “We didn’t have a lot growing up, but there was always food on the table.” I pushed some noodles around my plate with my fork. I couldn’t eat any more.
He watched me. “Does it make you upset to talk about it?” Propping his elbow on the table, he set his chin in his hand.
“I don’t know, maybe a little.” I rolled my lips and set my fork on my plate. “Every Sunday we attended church and Mom always cooked a big meal right after.” I freed a sharp laugh. “Fried chicken, collard greens, and grits. That was the staple.” I shook my head, the memories flooding back. “She could make the best fried chicken,” I said, as my voice cracked. My eyes stung and my plate blurred. Fuck, why was I emotional now?
“Ezra.” Lucas dragged his chair closer to mine, held my hand, and wrapped his other hand around the back of my neck. “It sounds nice.”
I flicked my gaze to his, my pulse stammering. He was so close. I swallowed a lump in my throat. “It was nice. Sort of.” Fear always lurked under the surface. “But I couldn’t be myself. I could only be the son I thought they wanted.”
“I get it. I heard a similar thing from my brother.” He huffed. “And he’s a cocky bastard. Doesn’t let anyone get in the wayof who he is.”
With a nod, I said, “I was a senior in high school and there was a guy who enjoyed fooling around with me.” I took a deep inhale. “A teacher caught us kissing and sent us to the principal. Our parents were called…” Fuck, I hated talking about it. But Lucas was safe. He understood.
“What happened to the other guy?” His gaze roamed my face.
“He disappeared. I think his parents sent him somewhere.” An ache floated through my chest. “I never saw him again.”
“Damn. I can’t imagine that happening to a queer person where I grew up.” He shook his head and freed me, his gaze roaming over the table. “I’ll, uh, I’ll clean this up.” He stood and picked up our dishes.
