Page 58 of Goalie interference

“I am,” Thayer said awkwardly, kissing the side of my head to make me stop groaning. “I’m also Ash’s boyfriend–I was just taking him home, actually. I assume he’s upset right now because he just wants to go home and not have this conversation right now–”

“Ash is… straight,” my dad said carefully. “I mean–well, he’s only dated women. Didn’t he have a girlfriend, Marie? Katie or something?”

“Callie,” my mom said slowly, correcting him. “I uh…I have more issues than his sexuality–he's not going home with you.”

“Please don’t do this right now,” I grumbled loudly into Thayer’s neck. “My head really hurts, and I want to go home.”

“And we’ll take you home–”

“No, I want to go home!” I said, firmer, sharper. “My home. Not your house or my dorm–I just want to go home.”

Why was this so complicated?

I got that it was all very shocking, of course, but come on? I was almost twenty-two years old.

I wasn’t a baby.

Contrary to how I acted around Thayer sometimes.

“Okay, why don’t we all go home, and Ash can lie down somewhere that doesn’t smell like alcohol?” Thayer offered a warm, firm hand, rubbing my back and releasing tension throughout my body at once. “We can talk, but he just wants to go home.”

In twenty-two years on this earth, I'd never seen my parents bend to someone when it came to me. I watched them fight tooth and nail to make sure I got the best of what the world had to offer, never accepting anything less.

But I watched them bend to Thayer.

Maybe he was magic or something.

◆◆◆

Explaining the concept of their previously straight son now being in a problematic and non-conventional gay relationship with his coach was not on my to-do list today, but there I was.

My parents actually grasped the concept of me being gay pretty easily–they always thought I was a little too adventurous a person to ever be solidly one way or the other. I was the kid who got other kids in trouble because I had a bright idea, so my being bisexual–that wasn’t their holdup.

They were pissed about the coach thing.

I mean, threatening to call the dean and Reed–pfft–and whoever else until this was done, but I made them stop. This had nothing to do with Thayer being my coach–I fell in love with him because he cared about me.

Thayer saw a difficult person, and instead of deciding that was too much to deal with, he peeled back layers. He found common ground–he cared enough to make sure I had someone who was on my side and there to help me.

How was I supposed to not fall in love with that?

I slept for a while when we got home, after Thayer argued with my parents for ten minutes about who was going to help me shower. The answer was Thayer–my parents hadn’t seen me naked in years, and I was not letting the first time be with a massive hickey on my ass.

We had enough problems.

When I woke up, the earth had shifted or something.

Thayer and my parents were in the kitchen, talking casually while he made something to eat. It was still a little tense, and no one spoke too directly about Thayer and me, but some kind of understanding was reached.

Or I time-warped to a new dimension while I slept.

“Ashy,” my mom said softly, pulling me aside while I was hugging them goodbye in the hall.

Thayer had just gone inside and was giving me a minute to say goodbye to them.

“I’m trying to wrap my head around this, and I will, but…you’re happy with this?”

“Very,” I chuckled softly, staying quiet to not bother my head. “Whatever the step above happy is, I’m there… He’s so great, Mom. I mean–I’m happy, and I feel good, and…I just haven’t been excited about anything other than hockey in so long, but I am now.”