Page 25 of Finders Keepers
But what if Nate saw him differently despite his words. What if that changed everything?
Chapter Ten
Squats and lunges had kept Nate’s brain busy counting reps, but once he hit the treadmill to cool down, there was nothing to do but think—and every thought circled back to Wesley. That kiss. He hadn’t meant to want more, hadn’t meant to crave it days later, but the memory of Wesley’s mouth haunted him as if it had only just happened.
The weekend since had been a strange mix of closeness and distance. Pizza and old detective movies, Wesley falling asleep on the couch mid-reel, then vanishing to the guest room before Nate could work up the nerve to close the space between them. Nate told himself Wesley needed rest after everything he’d been through. But it didn’t stop the ache in Nate’s chest—or the want pooling low in his gut every time Wesley leaned too near, then pulled back like he’d touched a live wire.
Nate tried to remind himself that offering Wesley safe haven was enough. Still, sharing his space with the man made him yearn for something he wasn’t supposed to want. Someone to come home to, someone to share the quiet with.
Nate returned to the condo and showered. He’d been tapped to accompany several teammates on a visit to Children’s Nebraska. Wesley was holed up in the guest room, and Nate didn’t have to leave for another hour, so he opted to watch game tape of his teammates to distract himself from the memory of Wesley’s mouth and everything it promised.
* * * * *
While Nate had been gone on some hospital appearance, and after clearing it with Officer Bennett, Wesley had paid an exorbitant amount for a ride share to shuttle him home so he could collect some more clothes, a few essential items, and retrieve his car, bringing it back to Nate’s parking garage forsafekeeping. The trailer was still a mess, and he needed to make arrangements for the doors and the back window to be repaired.
Wesley had gotten a text from Nate that he was bringing home teammates and food for an impromptu video game tourney if Wesley was cool with it. What could he say? It was Nate’s place, and he could bring back teammates if he wanted.
When he heard the key in the lock, Wesley took a breath. Swallowing did nothing to dislodge the knot of anxiety in his throat. He glanced down at his salmon-colored skinny jeans with elastic at the ankles and his turquoise tee shirt with netting across the chest and sighed. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, but he didn’t want Nate to deal with any backlash from his new teammates. Not after he’d been kind enough to let Wesley stay as long as he needed.
Wesley had primarily brought comfortable clothes from home—most of which were more feminine than not. Nate hadn’t batted an eyelash. Had in fact complimented the color of his pants before he’d left the condo this morning. But Nate was not straight. He was familiar with the LGBTQ spectrum. He had a sister. But these teammates of his, who were about to walk in that door, probably didn’t even know what the letters LGBTQ stood for.
How would they react to Wesley’s presence? Would they feel uncomfortable and leave? Would they think less of Nate, just as he was trying to make a good first impression? Or worse, would they make fun of Wesley and start provoking him?
Laughter and conversation easily filled the open space from front door to the wall of windows—a space of close to a thousand square feet.
“Put the beer in the fridge, Tommy.”
Three big bodies trekked into the living room holding bags of food from Bronco’s. The fridge door opened and closed, bottles clinked, and the fourth body followed a moment later.
The scent of burgers and fries made Wesley’s mouth water. He hadn’t had a Bronco’s burger in years, and it’d been a favorite back in the day.
“Wesley, this is Nader, Tommy, and PawPaw.” Nate pointed at each one again in the same order. “D-man, D-man, goalie. Guys, this is my friend, Wesley. He needed a place to crash for a few days.”
“Hey, man. James Nadeau.” James nodded and held up the Bronco’s bags, his dark brown skin contrasting against the white of the bags brimming with food, fries sticking out of the top.
PawPaw, too, carried a pair of full Bronco’s bags.
How much food were these guys gonna eat? Oh wait. Hockey players.
For the last three mornings, Nate had eaten half a dozen eggs along with sausage and or baconandtoastandsometimes fruit. Claimed he was prepping for training camp, putting on weight for the start of the season, whatever that meant.
James sat on one end of the sofa and unloaded food onto the coffee table.
“What’s up?” Tommy’s gaze slid over Wesley, and an eyebrow arched before he plopped onto the love seat that sat across the seating area from Wesley. He twisted the cap off his beer and reached for a burger.
The hair on the back of Wesley’s neck prickled. Alcohol and assholery didn’t mix. Maybe he was wrong; he hoped he was wrong for Nate’s sake. But Wesley would still give the guy a wide berth.
“Hei.” PawPaw said in an accented voice and lifted a hand. “Call me Vilho.”
“Nice to meet you, Vilho.” Wesley tried to imitate the accent on the name and earned himself a bright, toothless smile. “Where are you from?”
“Finland.” Vilho, too, sat, but chose the end of the couch nearest Wesley. “What is happen to your face?”
“Someone attacked me in a parking lot.”
“You is all right?”
“Yeah. I’m all right. Thanks for asking. Nate was kind enough to let me stay a few days and be my concussion spotter, but I’m not sure I have one. Just the swelling and the bruising.” He glanced at Nate, confusion tumbling through his mind. “Hey, wait—aren’t you the goalie?” Wesley asked, taking his drink from the cardboard tray Nate had lowered within reach.
