Four Letter Feelings (The Jeremy Lewis Series Book 1)

by Lasairiona McMaster

  I need to be more like this guy and give fewer shits about my reputation.

  “You wanna take a minute?” AJ still seemed concerned, and Jeremy welcomed his new friend’s patience and understanding as his stomach churned.

  It’s all good, Lewis. You know you’re meant to be here; you earned your place just like everyone else. It’ll get easier; the first time is always the most awkward – ha! So true of so many, many things.

  “Nah, man. S’all good. Let’s go!”

  Jeremy flashed a grin as AJ slapped a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Atta boy.”

  Fake it ʼtil ya make it, right, Mom? I think you’ll like this guy; he seems like a decent dude.

  AJ held the door open. “Watch where you’re swinging that kit, man. Talk about assault with a deadly weapon!” he joked.

  “Oh please, like you could handle my deadly weapon,” Jeremy said with a wink and a grab of his crotch.

  “Ew.”

  “What? Don’t hate on my superior equipment, man. Ok, ok, what about ‘weapon of mass satisfaction’?”

  AJ covered his face with his palm and groaned. “Oh dude, these are terrible.”

  Jeremy feigned a gasp, covered his heart with his hand and drawled in his best southern accent. “Oh, hell naw. There ain’t nothin’ about my junk that’s terrible, y’all.”

  AJ chuckled, shook his head and made his way down the corridor toward the locker rooms. “I’ve never spoken to someone so much about their junk before.”

  “And it’s only our second date; just wait ʼtil we get to know each other better, schnookums!”

  “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” AJ laughed.

  “As a matter of fact, I do!”

  The locker room was already filling up with players. His brief encounter with AJ outside had helped him relax a little and he could already feel his anxiety unravelling in his stomach. As he started to put on his pads, he gave himself a pep-talk, and by the time he stepped out onto the ice, he was ready to show the University of Alabama in Huntsville just what he had to offer. He knew it wouldn’t take long for them to realize what he’d known all along; Jeremy Lewis was destined for greatness.

  Chapter 3

  Practice had gone better than he’d expected considering it was his first time out on the ice since the season ended in Germany in March. Despite having kept up his fitness at the gym over the summer months it could sometimes take some time to find his ice legs. He was glad to discover that this was not one of those times.

  Not bad going, Jer, he praised himself as he rinsed the lather off his chest and rolled his neck one last time under the water before turning off the faucet. He grabbed his towel from the door and stepped out of the shower while drying his hair. After a quick dry, he wrapped the towel around his waist and walked out of the steamy bathroom, flopping onto his back on the bed and putting his hands behind his head.

  I really need to find student accommodation at some point; can’t spend my college years right here in this hotel… Well, I could... It’s tempting… I can afford it, and there’s certainly something to be said for having someone make your bed and clean the bathroom every day. Utilities are paid for … they even have a laundry service. But I know Mom and Dad wouldn’t like it, they want me to have a true college experience even if it’s an international college experience and not the University of Toronto. Not to mention, taking chicks back to a hotel kinda screams money, and you don’t want them comin’ atcha for your cash. Nope, definitely need to find somewhere to crash that isn’t costing a couple hundred bucks a night!

  He jolted awake to the sound of his phone ringing. Dazed and bleary eyed he sat up on the bed and looked around the room trying to get his bearings.

  “I’m coming,” he muttered gruffly, as he tried to remember where he’d put his phone before taking an unplanned nap. Running his hands over his face and into his hair he huffed as the phone stopped ringing. “Fuckin’ jetlag,” he grumbled. As he stood up from the bed the towel fell to the floor. Ignoring it he ambled towards the desk in search of the phone.

  Who even has my number here? He wondered as his jeans started ringing at the same moment he picked them up. Ah ha! I found you, you annoying piece of crap.

  Jeremy was probably the only person left on the face of the earth who refused to give up his flip phone. He hated adapting to new technologies, he didn’t see the draw of social media and he was slightly paranoid about ‘Big Brother’ and their ability to eavesdrop or collect information on people. He wasn’t on Facebook; he had a profile page, but he never posted and rarely read anything from anyone else. His Tinder profile was about as ‘out there’ as he got, and his email was set up through an encrypted site that he could only access from his laptop. His phone was for calling and texting people only, few apps, no games, not even Snake – the game from the Nokia days of old – though he often kind of wished he still had his old Nokia for precisely that reason.

  He answered when he saw Blake’s name on the screen.

  “S’up?” he managed through a yawn, as he ran his palm over his jaw and around his hairline, squeezing the muscles in his neck, making a mental note that he needed a shave.

  “Did I wake you, peaches?” Blake’s thick southern drawl was often difficult for Jeremy to understand. They’d played together during high school in Iowa, they even roomed together with the same host family for a time, but Blake’s roots in Alabama had beckoned him home for good shortly after the hockey season had ended. Generally speaking, aspiring hockey players have to go where there is opportunity, as they don’t always have a hockey team or league near home at the level they need to develop. These junior hockey teams feed into the college team system. This means that for many kids to play at a higher level and improve on their skills they have to go to another state to play. The goal is to go somewhere with a well-established organization that plays in scouted tournaments to increase your chances of being seen and move into the various levels of professional teams. Players serious about their hockey future can start playing away from their home around fourteen years old, though players who ‘billet’, or stay with a host family, tend to be between sixteen and twenty years old. They move in with a family, sharing meals and chores, going to school and playing hockey.

  Playing sports in general can be pretty expensive; lessening the cost of living expenses away from their parents and financial support network can really help a player pursue their hockey career without the added complication of having to find a job and pay their own way. Players and hosts often become part of each other’s extended families and keep in touch for years beyond the time spent together during their stay.

  Blake and Jeremy knew each other from playing hockey together in high school in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. They’d kept in touch sporadically, but hadn’t seen each other since long before Jeremy had left for Europe. He was glad he knew someone at UAH and even if he couldn’t understand him all of the time, it was nice to have someone familiar around.

  “Yeah.” Jeremy yawned again. “Jetlag, man. I got out of the shower and… bam. I don’t even know what time it is. What time is it?”

  “Chow time. You wanna come drinking?”

  “I could definitely drink. Who’s in?”

  “Just a few of the guys. You wanna have steak and beer before we meet them at the bar?”

  “As long as you don’t want a blowjob after the steak I’ll be there.”

  “Dude. Ew. You know you’re not my type; I prefer blondes.”

  Jeremy smiled. “If I swung your way, man. I’d buy a box dye right now and propose.”

  “Sure you would, but you also know I’m not that easy. For right now, though, you’ll just have to settle for beer and beef.”

  Jeremy snorted. “Keep it in your pants, B.”

  “You couldn’t handle my beef, bro. See you at Longhorn in thirty.”

  Jeremy chuckled to himself as the line went dead. He crossed the room to his half-open suitcase, pulled out a clean shirt to
pair with his jeans and got dressed. He arrived a few minutes early at the steakhouse. The host led Jeremy to their booth and a server took his drink order while placing a basket of fresh hot bread on the table in front of him.

  I’ve missed American hospitality, he thought, with a small smile as he picked up a bread roll, sliced it and slathered it in butter. He took a bite of the warm buttery bread and sighed. It’s good to be back in North America.

  Dining out in Europe just wasn’t the same as in the US, and as far as Jeremy was concerned, nothing beat the food service industry here in America. He’d be the first to admit though, from having worked as a server for a time in his teens, that the pay scale most certainly sucked as did the treatment from some of the patrons. The service in the US, however, was second to none. His European friends often criticized the American staff for being overly fake, friendly and verging on annoying, but Jeremy always appreciated the warmth and attentiveness of good service staff. He thanked the server for his bottle of Below the Radar beer from a local micro-brewery. They had an impressive list of hometown brews that Jeremy had never tried before, so he picked one from the top of the menu and figured he’d make his way down the list.

  “Looks like I got here just in time.” Blake’s familiar voice pulled Jeremy out of a daze. “Dude, you look totally spaced out. You good?”

  “Yeah.” Jeremy yawned in response. “Just exhausted.”

  “Oh, I bet. All that nappin’ must be terribly hard work.” Blake ignored Jeremy’s glare and spluttering protests about jet lag, hockey practice and his ten-mile run before breakfast and ordered a bottle of Innerspace from the local brewery list.

  “Since when is Huntsvegas the center of the micro-brewery universe, man?”

  “Don’t look now, Jer, but you’re verging on being trendy.”

  Jeremy snorted in response as he followed Blake’s gaze and realized he hadn’t taken his eye off the server since he sat down.

  Jeremy grinned, and took a pull of his beer before shoving Blake playfully.

  “What?”

  “Don’t look now, Blake, but you’re verging on being desperate.”

  Even in the dim light Jeremy could tell he was blushing.

  “Fuck. Was I that obvious?”

  “There’s a pool of drool on the table, man. Shameless!”

  Blake raked his hands through his hair. “It’s been so goddamn long,” he groaned, through gritted teeth.

  “Tell me about it!” Jeremy agreed.

  “Nuh uh. This isn’t one of your two-week dry spells, Jer.”

  “How’d you know it’s been two weeks?”

  Blake took his beer from the server, thanked him and took a sip from the glass before turning his attention back to Jeremy.

  “’Cause it’s you, Lupes. You never go more than two weeks without getting laid.”

  “True story,” Jeremy answered, with a smirk, taking a long pull from the bottle and smiling at the old nickname. He’d never seen the resemblance himself, but a coach from his high school days thought he played like Joffery Lupul of the Toronto Maple Leafs and the name stuck. Jeremy was never really sure how people knew about it, but everywhere he went, the nickname seemed to follow him and he leaned into it like an old comfort blanket.

  The restaurant was starting to get busy, so they ordered food and Jeremy ordered a second beer from the list of local offerings.

  “So,” Jeremy continued, when the server, Ben, had walked away having taken their order. “Just how long has it been?” he asked, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

  “Months,” Blake announced with an exasperated sigh. “I just wasn’t in a good place when Stephen and I broke up, y’know? But now…” Jeremy watched as he took another drink of his beer and glanced across the room at Ben, who was staring back at him. “Well, now, I think I’m ready to jump back into the dating pool.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jeremy replied, with a grin. “Here’s to getting your fine ass laid, man.”

  “Amen brother,” Blake answered with a grin of his own and a clink of his glass against Jeremy’s outstretched bottle.

  “You wanna go get his number?” Jeremy tried to keep a casual note to his voice, pointing his chin towards where Ben was standing.

  “Fuck no. I’m not there yet.” He drained his glass as Jeremy finished his appetizer and leaned back into his seat.

  “Want me to do it?”

  “No, Jer. I most definitely do not want you asking our server for his number. For one, he might think you’re the one interested in him and then I’m screwed, and B, you’re not exactly the king of subtlety now, are you?”

  “I can be subtle!” Jeremy argued, chuckling at the look of skepticism on his friend’s face. “Ok, fine. I won’t, but you should. How’ve you been anyway?”

  It had been a while since they’d spoken, but as with all good friendships the time and distance between conversations didn’t really matter. The two picked back up where they left off as though it hadn’t been a couple years since they’d seen each other.

  “Oh, you know. Same ole, same ole. Nothing exciting compared to the great Lupes going global. How was it, man? Was Europe everything you expected it to be? Did you get laid every night? I bet you got laid every night. I’m so jealous!”

  Just as he’d finished his sentence, Ben appeared with their entrees, causing Blake to blush again. Jeremy watched in amusement as Blake spluttered an embarrassed thank you and hung his head in his hands when Ben left the table. “Great, now he thinks I’m a desperate horn-dog!”

  “He wouldn’t be wrong… I think it’s cute though.”

  “What is?”

  “Well, if you two got married you’d be Blake and Ben Bartlett.”

  “Only if he took my last name.” Blake paused as though contemplating the idea. “I’ve always liked the double B initials though. Yeah, I totally need to marry someone with a B surname.”

  Jeremy chuckled again. “Or keep your surname since you like it so much.”

  “Maybe.” He sighed. “I’d consider changing it for the right person though.”

  “Dude, you got it bad.”

  “Shut up and eat your steak! Anyway, you were telling me about how amazing Europe is.”

  “It was a pretty sweet trip, yeah. Good food, surprisingly good hockey and beautiful women; what more could you want out of a year abroad?”

  “Lie to me, man. Tell me it was awful. Tell me it rained every day and all the men had scaly skin or… I dunno. Something. Anything that doesn’t make me feel like I missed out on the trip of a lifetime!”

  “Sorry, BB, but you kinda, sorta missed out on the trip of a lifetime.”

  “Don’t call me that, you know I hate it.”

  “You just got done telling me how you like your double B initials but I can’t call you the nickname I’ve called you since we were sixteen?”

  “He might hear you.” He gestured with a jerk of his head, “and he might think you’re calling me ‘baby’. I don’t want him thinking we’re, y’know, together.”

  “Ok, first of all, you just met the guy; you’re taking this all just a little seriously wouldn’t ya say? Secondly, there ain’t no way he thinks I’m gay.”

  Blake snorted as he took a mouthful of food and started to choke.

  “What?” Jeremy demanded.

  “Oh, dude.” He coughed. “You’re way more metro than you seem to think you are. You could easily ping his gaydar,” Blake replied once he’d taken a swig of his drink.

  “I hate you.” Jeremy glanced down at his outfit and wondered if Blake was serious or having fun at his expense.

  “Lies. You’ve missed me, Lupes, and I’ve missed you. We’re gonna paint this town red. Huntsvegas won’t know what the fuck has hit it by the time we graduate!”

  Chapter 4

  Ben solved the potential issue of Blake awkwardly asking for his number by leaving it on the check. Jeremy watched with fascination as Blake nervously attempted to flirt as he swiped his card t
o pay the bill. He could hardly believe what he was seeing: the Blake he remembered was confident, outgoing and not at all shy about picking up guys he found attractive. In fact, Blake was someone Jeremy had aspired to be like from the moment they’d met. For as long as they’d known each other, Blake had always just been himself, no apologies, or excuses. If you didn’t like him, you could keep on moving. He was the most self-assured person Jeremy had ever known. Jeremy vividly recalled the conversation he had with Blake about coming out as gay to his parents.

  “I never really came out, man. I didn’t really need to. I just was. They knew, I knew, and there wasn’t much else to be said. My gramps was a bit awkward about it when I first gave myself an official label, but I told him. I said, ‘Gramps, you either love me as I am, or we’re done, because I wouldn’t change for you, even if I wanted to, you always told me never to change for anyone.’ And he said, ‘Boy, just because I’m from another time and it’s a bit awkward for me to accept, doesn’t mean I’m a bigot. It’s my issue, not yours. I still love you and am always here for you, you know that. And that was as bad as it got.”

  It had been a pivotal moment in Jeremy’s adolescence, and in that moment, he knew he needed to do more to care less about what other people thought of him, though it was something he struggled with, even now. He was reminded of having almost the exact same conversation with AJ, earlier.

  Déjà vu, eh?

  Jeremy knew that Blake hadn’t suffered as much bullying for his sexuality as many kids do. He partly attributed that to Blake’s size and the fact he could take anyone who made an unsavory comment towards him. But Jeremy had also always attributed it to Blake’s ‘zero fucks given’ and ‘accept me as I am’ attitude, which he was struggling to see right now as his friend blundered through the simple act of paying the bill.