Page 36 of Ethan

“Would be really good if you ended up in New York before next fall,” Hank added.

Ethan wasn’t going to disagree, but he also had no control over that situation, either.

If Inverness told him to stay put in Portland, then he’d stay put in Portland and finish out his sophomore year.

He couldn’t call up the Bandits’ GM and demand to be brought to New York.

Though, as the weeks passed and the Bandits lost more games than they won and the Evergreens looked like they’d probablymakethe Frozen Four but not exactly be winning it all this year, Ethan was really tempted to do that. More than once.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” Charlie said in March.

“Yeah you do,” Ethan retorted as he tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder and hated, acutely, how fucking cold and wet it was. On top of being on theoppositeside of the country from New York, Portland was also fucking miserable in March. Drizzling rain and forty-degree temps that felt at least twenty degrees colder.

“Dude, Eth, I’m not just gonna march up to Inverness and be like, hey, sign my little bro to his entry-level contract now. He’s tired of being in Portland. It rains a whole lot there.”

Charlie didn’t even know why yet. Ethan hadn’t told him. Knew the clock was ticking down on saying it, but he and Hank had come to this wordless agreement that Charlie didn’t need to know what was going on. That they were friends. That they talked all the time.

Hank was up with the Bandits, now, but apparently he was also the odd man out so he was getting a room to himself. So nobody had to know that it felt like most nights now he and Ethan ended up FaceTiming.

“Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me that you talk to Inverness all the goddamn time?” Ethan complained. “Just last month, you were bragging about how you have lunch with him once a week.”

Charlie huffed out an annoyed breath. “You’re such a brat. That’s ourleadershipmeeting, and what, with Max and Brock and Danny right there, you want me to be like come on, what are you waiting for, bring Ethan to New York?”

“Well,yeah.” Ethan knew it was stupid. It was very stupid. Probably why he’d managed to hold in the request until March.

“I’m not doing that,” Charlie said flatly.

“You could use some extra offense.”

“The offense isn’t the problem,” Charlie retorted self-righteously, which Ethan should’ve predicted. “The defense needs to get their shit together. Giving up too many stupid goals.”

Ethan compressed his mouth together and didn’t get defensive about the new d-man the Bandits had called up less than a month ago.

How he was making a difference, already.

But what was Hank supposed to do? One man wasn’t enough to stop a whole leaking sieve of a defense.

“That new guy’s helping, though,” Charlie said, like he could read Ethan’s mind. And God, Ethan really hoped he couldn’t. “Tuck? I’m sure you remember him, right? You guys were all tight at camp, before you went back to Portland.”

“Um. Yeah.” Ethan told himself it was a mistake, but he had to tell Charlieat some point, and if Invernessdidcall him up and Charlie still didn’t know, he was going to be really pissed. Probably justifiably. “About Hank, actually . . .”

“What about him?” Charlie wondered, sounding distracted and not like he had any idea that Ethan’s confession was coming. He probably didn’t.

“We’ve been talking. Actually. Since November.”

There was silence on the line. Ethan ducked under an awning to get a reprieve from the drizzling rain that had managed to find its way under the neck of his hoodie.

“You’ve been talking since November,” Charlie finally repeated blankly. “You and Tuck. Okay. Huh. You didn’t mention it.”

“No,” Ethan admitted. Hated the guilt that pressed up against his throat. Threatening to choke him. “It’s not . . . it’s not anything, really. We’re just friends.”

“Waitwhat, why would you even say that you’re just friends, I didn’t think you were—” Charlie broke off and Ethan hated both how confused he sounded and the horrible kind of silence that fell after.

“I don’t know,” Ethan said, even though he wasprettysure. He likedlikedHank. But until they were in the same zip code, it seemed like getting ahead of himself to declare it with certainty. Besides, he didn’t know still if Hank felt the same way—or would ever want todoanything about it, even if he did.

“Oh.Oh.”

“Just . . . we’re friends. But he’s a cool guy. I should’ve told you,” Ethan said hurriedly, but before he could continue, Charlie cut him off.