His arm comes around me again after we return the skates and head for the exit, leaning heavily into each other.
“And that constellation right there”—Richie points to a string of lights—“is the giant saucepan …”
“I think it’s called the Big Dipper.”
“No, no.” He points to another lot. “That’s the big dicker. And those two red ones are the big titties.”
I laugh and twist my hand around his scarf. “And that lot?”
“Ah, those are the Ursa Ménage à trois.”
“So romantic.” I pretend to sigh.
“Gotta impress my Einstein.”
He kisses the side of my head, and I wrap my arm deeper under his coat.
Little does he know, I’m already impressed.
And dreading what happens when school goes back and this bubble we’re living in comes to an end.
20
Cohen
Jacobs catches my eye as soon as I walk into the locker room. “Hey, everyone, it’s okay. We can cancel the manhunt on Cohen. He has decided to grace us with his presence.”
I check my phone. “I’m on time, jackass.”
He steps toward me. “I mean because you basically went AWOL since New Year’s.”
“Oh. That.”
“Did you end up going home?” He eyes me in that captainly way he has about him, the way he’s been doing all year. Like, Do you have a problem I can try to fix for you?
I swallow hard. “Uh …”
When I left Seth’s yesterday to come back to the dorms, he said it’s not a big deal if the team finds out about us and that it’s up to me. He just wants a heads-up so he knows if he needs to tell his brother. He’d prefer to do it in person, but if he has to do it over the phone, he will.
My focus flicks to Beck, who’s behind Jacobs, and he nods like I’ve got this as if I’ve told him to do something telepathically when I haven’t. At least, I don’t think I have. Maybe I’m telepathic and completely oblivious to that too.
He steps onto the bench in front of his cubby, only wearing a jockstrap. “Everyone! I have an announcement.”
The team turns their attention on him.
“So, umm, the announcement is … well, it’s … Uh …” He glances back at me.
I mouth, “What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re going to kick ass this weekend.”
The locker room erupts into cheers, so as a diversion, I guess it worked. Except, Jacobs is staring at Beck for being the fool he is.
“He’s lucky he’s good-looking,” Jacobs whispers to me. “That’s all I’m saying.”
I make my escape over to my cubby beside Beck’s.
“You’re welcome.” He grins.
“That was for my benefit?”
“Dude, you disappeared for two weeks. Were you where I think you were?”
I rub the back of my neck.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Told Grant yet?”
I start stripping down to get suited up.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
I look Beck in the eyes. “We want to tell him in person, okay?”
“Yes, because telling someone shitty news with a chance of bloodshed is so much easier than picking up a phone.”
“There won’t be any bloodshed. And it’s not shitty. I make his brother happy.” Very happy. And satisfied.
I smile thinking of how hard I made him come in the shower yesterday. I’m totally mastering this BJ business.
“I can only distract people with my amazing charm for so long,” Beck says in his usual Beck way.
“Uh-huh. I’m sure you’ll think of other ways.”
“I almost got my dick out, but Jacobs is kind of possessive of it.”
“We’ll keep that as a last resort.”
I’m almost tempted to keep this a secret as long as I can to see what other boneheaded things Beck would do to cover for us.
That’s when I realize something …
I turn to him. “Why … why are you being so cool about this?”
“Cool about what?”
“Me. And a guy.”
A line furrows across his brow. “I know we joke about you being dumb, but … you do know Jacobs and I are a couple, right? Why would we give you shit for being with a guy?”
“Because ever since last summer, you’ve been mocking me about kissing my best friend in high school?”
Beck shrugs. “We might’ve found it entertaining that you had no idea kissing a guy is not hetero behavior, but actually acknowledging your sexuality? There’s nothing to mock about that. That only deserves support.”
“Well, shit. Now I feel bad about keeping it a secret.”
“Don’t. Come out when you’re ready. Preferably to Grant first.”
That makes sense. Though, thinking about it, we probably should’ve made the trip up to Montreal to tell Foster while we were on break because now I’ll have no time to get there, and I don’t want to make Seth do it on his own.
“Are you okay?” Beck asks. “You look confused.”
“I don’t think I want to live in a world where TJ Beckett is serious and not a fuckboy.”
He slaps my shoulder. “You and me both. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”