Page 112 of The Tryout

After sleeping through not only breakfast, but also lunch on Sunday, my stomach is roaring as we pull up outside Novak’s house. I’d eaten here a few times last season, after our captain had gotten traded to Wilkes-Barre. Novak had stepped in for me and some other new players, making sure we had an older guy looking out for us.

As we ring the doorbell, I hear a stampede of tiny feet inside, a clear sign that the girls are excited for our arrival. Sure enough, when Tomas opens the door, he’s surrounded by his own personal girl gang, flanked by the twins while Rosie smiles in his arms. Dia grabs Avery’s hand while Millie grabs mine, dragging us through the kitchen and into the living room.

As we pass through, I wave at Elena, who is finishing up dinner.

“Wow, look who’s deigned to grace us with his presence!” She comes toward me, giving me a gentle hug, although it’s a little awkward with Millie not willing to let go of me.

“You can talk to Finn later, Mom. It’s our turn now.”

With a laugh, Elena lets go of me, returning to whatever is making the kitchen smell so good.

In the living room, the girls have decided to grill me about my time in Minneapolis.

“Was the arena big, Finn? Was it huge?”

I nod.

“Biggest arena I’ve ever played in.”

“Were they nice? Daddy says some teams are nicer than others.”

If anyone would know, it would be Novak. He was a journeyman player in the NHL, spending one or two years with almost every team in the Metropolitan division.

“They were great. Did you know that Avery went to college with Jamie Carter?”

Their eyes go wide at that, turning to Avery and demanding that he inform them of everything from Jamie’s favorite color to his pregame rituals. Novak hasn’t pushed the girls into skating like some of the other hockey dads I know, if for no other reason than Elena is already relying on her sister pretty heavily to make childcare work. Still, the girls are fixated on hockey and probably know my stats better than I do.

Dinner turns out not to be enchiladas, but rather homemade pot roast with potatoes and carrots. Sure enough, Rosie has grown an unbelievable amount and reigns over the table like a queen, hands full of beef. It is, all in all, a wonderful night, the kind of night with friends that makes me think of family, of what a family could be.

And it’s even better because I get to share it with Avery.

On Monday morning after practice, I take an extra long shower. If Avery thinks I’m up to something, he doesn’t let on.

Actually, I’d gotten the idea from him – when he’d single-handedly decided he’d be bottoming our first time together, I’d found it hard to argue with him, especially when he’d already done all the work.

But in the almost two weeks since then, he’s continued to insist on bottoming, and I’m getting a little fed up. After all, I’ve loved every single part of the sex we’ve had over the last two months, and I want to try this part, too.

I hadn’t been sure of that at first, if it would feel weird to be the one jerking someone else off, or blowing them. Avery had told me a lot of straight guys will be just fine fucking around with a guy, as long as they get to just sit back and let it happen. I tried not to think too much about how he knew that.

As it turns out, I’m not straight, and I’m crazy for it. I love watching his eyes go distant and hazy as he’s overcome with pleasure, knowing I’m the one doing that. And now I want to figure out if I’ll be crazy for this, too.

After I wrap things up in the bathroom, I head to the living room, where Avery is scrolling through his phone.

“Good run?”

I nod, sitting down next to him.

“You got any plans for today?”

He turns to look at me, raising an eyebrow.

“Got any ideas?”

The crooked smile on his face tells me his ideas aren’t far off my own. I smile, looking at him through my eyelashes.

“Well…I took an extra thorough shower, if you get what I’m saying.”

His eyes widen and he leans in.