Page 16 of Full Body Hit, Part 1

Auston held up his hands. “Fine. Freeze to death. See if I care.” Before he could even take a step back, though, Chase was lashing out.

“You’re nothing like I thought you would be.” It was said quietly, almost to himself, but it cut Auston open.

“Excuse me?”

Chase raised his wobbly, drunken gaze to meet Auston’s eyes. “You’re…you’re mean.”

Auston was honestly stunned for a few seconds. It would have been better for Chase to curse him out, but that simple word—mean…nobody had ever applied that to Auston.

Except Hunter.

“You don’t even know me,” Auston responded, keeping his voice even by pure strength of will.

Chase made a loud, incredulous noise, as if that comment wasn’t totally fair.

“What?” Auston bit out.

“You…we’re teammates, you know.”

“Not yet,” Auston pointed out, the words coming out…

Well. Mean.

In another context, it could be taken as a joke. Right then? It was clear Auston was poking at the fact that Chase hadn’t even made it to the big league yet—that he could be sent down at any moment.

Auston watched Chase’s expression collapse, the anger falling off it, revealing the small hurt behind it.

It was wiped off a beat later, face as blank as his scent.

Auston clenched his teeth. Who the fuck was Chase to have expectations of him, anyway? You’re nothing like I thought you would be.

The fuck did that mean, anyway?

“Come on,” Auston ordered. He grabbed Chase by the arm and herded him inside where the idiot wouldn’t die from exposure. Or stupidity.

He handed him over to a surprised Sammy and Noah. “Here.”

“What—” Sammy started, but Auston made his escape, guts roiling sickly.

The ride home was spent deep in his head, hands clenched into fists, every muscle tense.

It was so fucking stupid to care about Chase’s opinions. The kid didn’t even know him, and Auston wasn’t responsible for whatever preconceived ideals Chase had of him.

Still…it fucking hurt, having left Chase like that. Having seen him so small out in the cold. It was ridiculous that Auston was regretting not having offered Chase his jacket—the kid could take care of himself, even though Auston wanted to—

No. Fuck. It wasn’t his responsibility.

He was more tired than he could ever express by the time he folded onto his couch.

He sighed long and hard, letting his head drop back, aching body melting. His apartment was still and silent. He was alone.

He swallowed roughly. Was this what life would be like when he retired? Empty space where a life used to be?

Chin-Sun’s words ran in his head.

You need someone to take care of.

It’d be nice, wouldn’t it? To have someone to pamper. Someone to look at him with big, adoring eyes. Someone who felt better just by seeing him. Maybe it’d temper whatever weird shit was going on with him when he was around Chase, too, stop him from wanting to comfort the kid.