by Amy Aislin
“I know. But now you won’t have to miss me so much because I think I came up with a solution.”
“Okay.” Roman ran his hands down Cody’s arms. “Let’s hear it.”
“The college I’m going to?” Cody said, and Roman didn’t miss his use of the present tense. “They offer the program entirely online too, so my solution is a blended approach—half in-person classes, and half online ones. That way I’m not in class five days a week . . . leaving an extra few days each week for me to come back here to see you. Or you to see me. Whatever.”
“Not that I don’t love that idea, but, Cody, that’s a lot of back and forth for you on top of school. You’ll be exhausted.”
“I’d rather be exhausted than not see you. And I know it won’t work every week, that sometimes you’ll be away for games or I’ll need to stay in Boston to study for tests or finish assignments. Maybe once we both have our schedules, we can compare them and see what weeks work?”
Roman kissed him once, twice, a third time, making Cody chuckle into his mouth. “I love that you’re planning that far ahead for us.”
Grinning, Cody snuggled into him and patted his chest. “Oh, except you’ll have to pay for most of my gas or flights or whatever because I’ll still be a broke college student.”
Roman couldn’t do anything but laugh as Cody’s personality finally emerged after too many days in a shell. “And I love that you said that without thinking twice about it.”
“I’m just keeping it real.” Taking a step back, Cody cupped Roman’s neck. “I’m sorry I was weird and distant the past few days. I had a lot in my head to figure out.”
“I wish you’d talked to me.”
“Me too, but I had to overthink things first.”
Roman’s chuckle almost masked the sound of Cody’s whining stomach. “Hungry?”
“God yes. Feed me.”
“I don’t have much for once.” Opening the fridge door, he showed Cody its meager contents. “I have frozen chicken fingers I can throw in the oven. Maybe with some roasted veggies?”
“Sounds perfect.” Cody kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Roman nudged him toward the living room. “Go sit. You look exhausted.”
“Haven’t slept well the past few days.” Cody sat on the couch, bracing his chin on his folded arms on the back of it to look at him.
“Too busy overthinking?”
Cody’s answer was a soft hum.
As the oven preheated, Roman snapped asparagus and chopped half a pepper, poured a little bit of olive oil over them, and then sprinkled salt and pepper. Removing a baking sheet from the cupboard, he dumped the veggies on one half and placed a handful of frozen chicken fingers on the other. He set the sheet aside, waiting for the oven to finish preheating, and turned to Cody.
“Do you want something to dri— Why are you looking at me like that?”
The expression on Cody’s face—soft smile, eyes tilted downward with weariness yet lit with brightness—it was yearning and adoration and awe—almost like he couldn’t believe his luck.
Roman knew the feeling. How had someone so lively and loving like Cody come into the life of someone so broken like him?
It was probably best not to question it.
Cody’s smile grew. “I just love you.”
Pulled in by his magnetism, Roman rounded the counter. Cody lifted himself onto his knees on the couch, tilting his head back to look up at him, hands grabbing a fistful of Roman’s T-shirt.
Roman kissed him, unable to do anything else. Kissed him until they were both breathing hard. Until Cody scrambled up to sit on the back of the couch. Until Roman was nestled between his spread thighs. Until not even the beeping of the oven could intrude on their moment.
The library fundraiser was a madhouse, in the best way possible.
Cody hadn’t really believed Kate when she’d said people would come, especially with less than three weeks to sell tickets. But they came, and it felt like they kept coming until the main floor of the library was bursting with ginormous hockey players, couples in their finest evening wear, children in frilly dresses and shiny shoes, and wide-eyed teenagers clutching cell phones and taking selfies.
The library itself had been transformed into a beautiful hall. Black lengths of cloths were draped two feet apart over the shoulder- and hip-high bookshelves, with strings of fairy lights hanging over them. Fairy lights were strung along the ceiling, and tables of eight were interspersed around the ground floor, decorated in shades of green and cream. Small stacks of books wrapped in cream lace and topped with a flower arrangement formed table centerpieces. On the checkout counter were Trailblazers items up for auction: signed hockey pucks, a jersey signed by the entire team, signed hats and hockey sticks, a framed photograph of the team. Then there were miscellaneous items donated by members of the team: a set of Nature’s Honey beauty products, gift cards for spas and resorts and skiing, an exclusive opportunity to spend an entire day with the team—from morning skate to team meetings all the way to locker room access during the game. Also up for auction was the collection of signed first edition The Wheel of Time novels by Robert Jordan that had gone to Roman for more money than Cody had ever seen in one place outside of his tuition fees.
To his surprise, word had gotten around to a couple other NHL teams—Cody suspected he had Alex and Ashton Yager to thank for that. Also up for auction were signed Tampa Bay and Toronto jerseys. Alex and Ash were in attendance too, which was pretty cool.
The best part, though? The best part had been getting ready for tonight. Him and Roman showering together—no funny business; they hadn’t had time once Roman returned from his team meeting—shaving side by side at the bathroom mirror, tying each other’s ties. Cody could picture it, them getting ready for other events together, occupying the same space and helping each other choose what to wear.
He was feeling good about his decision to attend grad school. Nervous too. New city, new home, new friends, new school. He’d lucked out with the online courses, something he’d discovered by accident while browsing the program website on his phone at the airport while he’d waited for his flight home yesterday morning. He’d spend half the week in Boston with Mitch and the rest in Burlington with Roman. Win-win.
Cody sought Roman out in the crowd, searching for his shaved head and dark blue suit among all the other men in dark suits. There’d been a catered dinner of soup, veggies, and roasted chicken stuffed with feta cheese and asparagus, and an ice cream-filled crepe drizzled with maple syrup for dessert. A surprisingly enthusiastic auction had occurred during the main course, raising more money than Cody thought the small town of Glen Hill was capable of. Afterward, the Trailblazers’ general manager announced the organization’s partnership with the Glen Hill Public Library as part of a statewide literacy project, and then the evening had turned into a social gathering, invitees mingling with hockey players. Cody found his own hockey player signing a Trailblazers T-shirt for a kid who barely came up to his hips. Roman caught his eye and winked at him, and Cody almost melted into the floor.
Later, once the night was over, the attendees and caterers gone and after the cleanup crew had done its job and left, the only people lingering were a few of the Trailblazers, the library staff, Ash and Dan, and Mitch and Alex.
“Guys!” Mitch called, his voice cutting through the din of a bunch of guys shooting the shit as they polished off the remaining cheese balls and mini quiches. “Get together.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Everybody moved in, huddled in front of the checkout counter. Zanetti, Vause, Cotton and Kas, Kabaikina, Ritz and Honeybun. Cody and Roman, Alex, and Ash and Dan. There was good-natured shoving and teasing and someone pinched someone’s side and someone else was jokingly shoved.
Roman’s arm came around him, pulling him back against his strength. Surprised, Cody looked at him over his shoulder, a question no doubt written on his face. Sure, they’d talked about Roman coming out to his team, but
soon wasn’t exactly a target date.
“This okay?” Roman asked.
Cody leaned his weight on him in answer, and Roman’s smile was pure gold as he subtly came out to his team. It was so like Roman in its understatedness that Cody grinned back at him. He wanted to kiss him so bad but that was probably too much too soon.
Or not.
Because Roman’s smile turned soft . . .
Right before he kissed him.
On the nose. But still. In front of all his friends? It counted.
So maybe not so subtly after all.
“Everyone ready?” Mitch said.
“Why don’t I take that?” Kate slipped in next to Mitch. “You should be in the picture.”
Handing his phone off, Mitch sidled up next to Alex. He met Cody’s eyes and they grinned like dummies.
Yeah. Getting everything you wanted was all kinds of awesome.
Roman kissed the back of his head as Kate held up the phone and said, “Everybody say ‘Hockey players love libraries.’”
“Hockey players love libraries!”
AUGUST 2012—A YEAR AND A HALF LATER
Their housewarming party was starting to wind down as the sun was setting behind the mountains on the other side of Lake Champlain, turning the sky a burnt orange. The still lake reflected the cloud-streaked sky, proving to Roman, yet again, that the sunsets were his property’s best asset.
His and Cody’s property.
The house, an unassuming two-story rectangle with red siding, large windows, white trim, and black shutters, sat atop a small hill. His and Cody’s friends sat on the patio out back, enjoying the last of the sun. He and Cody had moved in at the start of the summer, and now that they were unpacked they had plans to expand the minuscule patio and add steps leading down to the lake.
Roman sat with Cody on a thin slice of outdoor wicker sofa; the remainder was taken up by Vause, Zanetti, and Yager and Dan, who were visiting for the week along with Mitch and Dean. Leaning forward onto his elbows, Cody laughed at something Mitch said. Roman kicked his feet up onto a low table and ran a hand over Cody’s lower back, contentment sending a little jolt through his veins. Cody turned to grin at him, sharing in whatever joke Roman had missed, kissed his jaw, and stood to join Mitch at the edge of the lake.
Despite being bummed that his parents couldn’t attend their housewarming party—they’d had a vacation scheduled already—Cody nevertheless vibrated with happiness. It was the first summer he’d ever spent away from Mitch, interning in the digital archives of the Glen Hill Public Library. Mitch, on the other hand, had spent most of the summer with Alex Dean in Toronto after a successful season on Boston’s NHL team. There’d been many trips between Burlington and Toronto and vice versa over the last few months, and Cody had racked up so many long-distance minutes that Roman had bought him an unlimited worldwide calling plan.
Gathering empty plates, Roman made his way into the house, where he left his stack from today’s potluck in the sink to wash later. Somehow, in the past eighteen months, he’d become the guy who hosted potlucks.
Those eighteen months, however, had been some of the best of his life, even with Cody in Boston for part of it. It’d been hard, as they’d expected, especially the first couple of months when they’d kept missing each other’s phone calls as they’d learned to navigate their new—and often conflicting—schedules. But they’d made it work, and it turned out that driving was actually faster than flying, so they’d spent a lot of time driving back and forth during the course of Cody’s first year. They’d do the same for Cody’s second year once he returned to Boston in two weeks.
Worth it, though, even if once Roman had only been able to stay in Boston for five hours.
Retracing his steps through the house, photographs on the wall caught his attention. The first, a photo of Cody and his parents from his college graduation ceremony, where his dad had shown up wearing a necklace made up of literal bells. The second, a night a year and a half ago that always brought the same memories to mind—signing a little boy’s Trailblazers ball cap, raising money for Cody’s beloved library, watching Cody from across the room, just to reassure himself that he was there, hockey players love libraries. These same guys were in his backyard right now, eating the last of his chips—because he still couldn’t host a potluck without chips.
The photo reminded him of another one, of him and Kas and the guys he’d once called his friends in the major juniors. When was the last time he’d looked at it? Was it that winter day before he and Cody started dating, when he’d pulled it out while sitting in his car in the parking lot of the Glen Hill College student athletic facility? When he’d contemplated if he was ready to be punched in the face by life again? Possibly. A piece of paper folded in half, tucked behind a seldom-used rewards card in his wallet. An image he only brought out when he thought about his past, which lately, wasn’t often.
His wallet sat on a small table tucked next to the patio doors, nestled in a corner between two large picture windows. Opening it, he pulled out the photo . . .
Only to find a mini replica of the one on the wall instead. On the back, in Cody’s messy scrawl: Roman’s new family.
His old photo was nowhere to be found.
Roman’s new family.
As he gazed out the window at his teammates sprawled on the sofa and in lawn and Adirondack chairs, at Dean and Yager and Dan mingling among them, at Cody and Mitch in the distance, sitting shoulder to shoulder in the grass where it dipped down to the lake, Roman had to admit that yes, this was his new family. A made one. Made by accident, but made nevertheless.
From his vantage point, he saw Cody look around, frown when he evidently couldn’t find what he was searching for. Standing, he said something to Mitch while gesturing at the house, then hopped onto the patio and strode across it. Roman tucked the photo back into his wallet and dropped it on the table just as the patio doors opened and Cody bounced inside.
“Hey, captain. I was wondering where you disappeared to.”
Roman snorted at the nickname Cody pulled out from time to time, ever since Roman had been made captain of the Trailblazers last season. A season where they’d made the playoffs. They’d been eliminated in game seven of the first round, but the fact that they’d made it there was proof that they finally had their shit together as a team. Ultimately, it—and the increased ticket sales—was what convinced the NHL to keep the Trailblazers in Burlington. That, in turn, started Roman and Cody house hunting.
“What are you doing?” Cody asked.
“Nothing.” Roman threaded their fingers together and tugged him outside. “I was just coming back out.”
Alex Dean caught his eye as he walked past, and without a break in conversation, gave Roman a discreet thumbs-up. All ready for later then.
Later, it turned out, was close to midnight by the time everyone went home and Roman and Cody finished cleaning. But as the water lapped softly at the shore, and the back house lights lit a forgotten fork under a lawn chair, and the fresh evening air filled his lungs, Roman led Cody to the side of the house. A seven-foot hedge separated them from their neighbors, and along the side of the house grew pine trees twenty feet tall.
It wasn’t the same, but it would do.
“What are we doing out here?” Cody said, rubbing a hand over the opposite arm. “It’s creepy.”
“I want to show you something.”
“Is it the machete you once asked to borrow? Is this the scene where you kill me and dump my body in the lake?”
Laughing, Roman felt along the side of the house until his fingers bumped a wire. Following it, he reached the end, and—
“Ah-ha.”
“Ah-ha, what?” Cody grumbled. “This feels like a bad Halloween prank.”
“Ah-ha, this.”
Tiny white fairy lights lit up their side of the hedge as well as the pine trees, so bright that Roman saw Cody’s eyes widen in delight, saw his smile, brighter than any light could ever be. Th
e multicolored spheres Alex had hung earlier when Cody was busy playing host hung from low-slung branches, throwing pinks and purples and blues into the night.
Cody tucked himself into his side, an arm around his waist. “What is this?”
“Since we can’t see the marketplace lights from my balcony anymore, I wanted to give you this. I know it’s not the same, but—”
“Are you kidding?” Reaching up, Cody set a pink sphere swaying. “It’s perfect.” He turned to Roman, gently cupped his cheeks. “You did this for me?”
“I’d help you hide a body if you asked.”
Cody sighed dramatically and batted his lashes. “True love.”
Roman kissed his forehead. “Damn right.”
“Thank you. Really.” A thumb pad skimmed Roman’s cheekbone. “When did you get this done?”
“I did most of it a few days ago when you went to run errands. Dean helped me finish the rest today.” Dean had hung the spheres last minute, as close to sunset as possible so Cody was less likely to notice.
“It’s beautiful.”
The pink sphere above them created tiny pink dots in his hair, and the white fairy lights highlighted skin tanned honey from the summer sun. He stood haloed in front of Roman, tall and strong and warm against him.
Standing under the stars, Roman’s chest full of love for this man who’d seen past the hurt to the person beneath, he said, “Yes, it is.”
Knowing where his thoughts had gone, Cody’s smiling mouth met his, familiar and soft and tasting faintly of beer.
What was it Dean had said once, about shots on goal? Something about taking more of them and deciding if he wanted to take a shot on Cody.
Well, he’d taken. And won.
First and foremost, a huge shout-out and thank you to my fellow authors of the Windrose Cabin, whose support and butt kicking during Camp NaNoWriMo is what helped get this book finished.