“Huh,” is all I can think to say to that.
I know a lot more about hockey than I ever thought I would before I met Lex, but for some reason I didn’t know... this.
“But when you lived with us, when you played for Luxton Prep those two years, I never saw... I mean, you did eat more than any of us, but this is...”
His eyes might pack the same punch as before, but I’ve been getting desensitized the last hour, so when he stares at me for a full thirty seconds while he chews, I manage to only shift nervously on my seat once. Okay twice.
“I mean, it’s gotten a lot more intense since then, you know? It’s my career.” He says it so seriously that I instantly feel bad.
“Yeah, no. Yeah. I get that.” And now I feel stupid. “Sorry.” I wince, but keep my eyes down on my plate.
“Don’t be sorry.” He clears his throat then there’s only silence for a beat. “I just have to keep my body, like, fueled to keep performing the way I have. If I slip even a little they’d never let me hear the end of it.”
That has me looking up.
“Who?” I demand.
I admit I don’t know Ruko, his father, as well as he does, but I know enough that it seems impossible for him to be the overbearing father who only cares about how well his children do on the ice.
“No one, forget I said anything.”
That’s . . . an option.
I think about it for the next fifteen minutes while he devours his last plate of food, and I even take the time to cart the little table out to the hallway, then get us settled on the couch in front of the big TV.
I sit right next to him and try to find the right words.
“I know that since...” Yeah, no. Restart. “We might not talk all that often.” That’s better, and it gives me a boost to finally look him in the eyes. “But I hope you know that you can tell me anything, and that it’d never change things between us. I hope you know that nothing about your career is what makes you important to me.”
“I know, I know.” He nods repeatedly, but then stays quiet, worrying his bottom lip in a way that should be distracting for a lot of reasons but instead just makes my heart hurt for him.
“It’s not your dad, is it?” I ask in a whisper.
“What? No, of course not. No, my dad can never find out about this.” There’s enough panic in his voice to coil up every muscle in my body. I don’t want to push him—to push himawayagain—so I stay quiet, but I can’t stay still.
I don’t know how a movement can be lightning fast and also slow as a snail at the same time, but the end result is that I’m holdingLex’s hand, and he’s gripping my fingers back. He doesn’t flinch or pull away. He holds on just as fiercely as I do.
And that is dangerous.
“It’s just the guys on the team,” he starts out slowly, and then it’s like a dam breaking. “None of them are my friends. Not even from the start. They’re all...” He trails off, waving a hand around, trying to find the words before finally settling on, “Assholes, basically. Most of the married guys cheat on their wives, they’re always out partying, always making fun of Mom, of Vinny, they just never let up. I think they resent me.” He pauses again, more thoughtful this time. “Mostly because I play well, and because Vinny plays so well, and because of Dad’s history with the Empire. They just don’t talk to me, and when they do... it’s never good.”
He clamps his mouth shut after that, like he doesn’t want even a breath to escape.
I suck in a sharp breath, the cocktail of emotions inside me creating a tornado of confusion that I have to fight to get through.
When I do, it comes out as jumbled as Lex’s explanation.
“I’m sorry you’ve been going through this. I’m sorry they’re so fucking dumb and such assholes. They don’t deserve you, they don’t deserve your silence.”
“What?” His gaze snaps up to meet mine.
“You haven’t told anyone about this, have you?”
He hesitates, but I already know the answer.
“No.” I fucking hate that resignation, that defeat in his eyes.
How the hell amIthe only one who knows? How the hell has he powered through this fucking... bullying—that’s what it sounds like—and when he finally tells someone, it’s me?
