CHAPTER EIGHT

Tennant

Management meeting. Fancy name for facing the GM and others in upper management and telling them you’re gay. As I stared at the door that separated me from the owner, GM, and who knew who else, the urge to throw up grew. Then someone touched the back of my hand. My gaze flew to the right.

Mads smiled at me. “I’ll be right at your side.”

Every atom in my body hummed. I wanted nothing more than to take his hand and hold it throughout this meeting. But we couldn’t do that, because rules…

“Thanks.” I caught sight of Connor jogging up to us.

“He’s the player union rep,” Mads quickly explained. “Connor, thanks for joining us. You know why we’re here?” he asked as he and Hurleigh shook hands.

“I have a pretty good idea.” Connor extended his hand. I slapped my palm over his. He didn’t elaborate.

“Thanks.”

I’d figured my secret wasn’t much of a secret anymore, but hearing that Connor had any idea of what it was made me even edgier. Were all the guys talking about the queer on the team? Judging me differently because we all know gay men are effeminate and couldn’t play hockey? Ugh. My gut was a full-blown mess now.

Mads patted me on the back. It wasn’t what I wanted—or needed—from him, but for now it was the most he could give me. I threw back my shoulders and knocked. Might as well get it over with. My suit felt hot, the dress shirt scratchy, my tie tight. Some guy in a suit that cost way more than mine opened the door. I walked into the board room. It was filled with older white men in suits. The walls were covered with dark wood paneling. The rich carpeting soaked up our footsteps. A vase of flowers sat in the middle of an oval cherry wood table. Fingers touched my lower back. I knew it was Mads without even looking. His touch did things to me…

The dude working the door closed it and sat back down. I spotted the owner seated way at the other end of the table. He was sipping ice water and staring at me. I cleared my throat.

“I’m Tennant Rowe.” I’m sure they know who you are, doofus. “And I’m gay.” Bet they knew that too. Yep. No one is surprised. You can go toss cookies now.

“Kudos for skipping all the rambling pretense and going right for the meat of the matter,” Mads whispered.

Connor stepped up and started talking for me. I glanced at Mads and saw all kinds of emotions in those stunning, sexy eyes of his.

Lots of talk took place, most of it incredibly PC and in support of me and any other LGBTQ players who might be on the team. I shook hands with every guy at the table. We talked hockey. Then Mads, Connor, and I were escorted to the door.

“They took that well,” Connor said as we walked to the closest elevator. The upper levels of the barn were always hopping with staff and management. “Of course, they really don’t have any choice. It’s not like they can tell you to hit the road. You have a contract. I don’t think being gay violates any morals clause. If you need to contact me for any reason, though, you know where to find me. I’ll be on the ice trying to keep a step ahead of you.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, feeling kind of ashamed of how I was dogging the man. We shook, then Connor left me and Mads by a window that looked out at the parking lot surrounding the arena.

“Don’t feel badly for wanting to get his spot, Ten. That’s sports. He knew you’d be hounding him.”

“He’s an okay guy, though,” I argued weakly. My stomach was still gross.

“Yes, he is. And you’ve got the talent he wishes he had.” Mads rested a shoulder against the window frame. He looked tight in a dark blue suit that made the flecks of darker blue in his eyes pop.

I glanced up and down the lushly decorated hallway. “What about us?”

“Us is a nuclear detonation, Tennant.”

Ouch. “And you don’t want that kind of fallout in your life, right? You want to be all safe and sound hiding under your little metal desk.”

“Look, don’t think you know me so damn well after one kiss,” he ground out. “Do you have any idea what seeing you could do to my career?”

“No.”

“Neither do I, but I have to think it’s not going to be a promotion.”

I exhaled, then swallowed, hoping the churning acid in my stomach would cease and desist. Throwing up was not on the list of things I wanted to do in front of Mads. The parking lot was damn fascinating.

“Okay, I get it. I’ll step back.” God, that hurt way more than it should have considering that all we’d shared was one kiss. One incendiary kiss…

“I didn’t say I wanted that either.” My gaze flew from blacktop to Jared Madsen. “Christ, when you look at me like that, I want to…” He looked up at the ceiling and then back at me, “Well, I want to do things that we probably shouldn’t do in a hallway outside the owners’ suite.”

“Okay, right. I get it. So, uh, where are we? In terms of us?” Excitement bubbled up in my chest. Adding that sensation to the bubbling reflux was nice. Not.

“We’re going to see where we go.” He smiled gently at me. “And we are going to take this slow, Tennant.”

“Cool, good. I can do slow.”

He looked like he didn’t believe me.

 

* * * * *

 

Slow sucked. Seriously, it was the worst. Obviously my slow and Mads’ slow were worlds apart. His slow consisted of nothing but touching here and there, long looks, and secret smiles. My slow would have had us at least into some slippery-hot, ball-slapping sex. I spent more time jacking off in the shower now than before he’d said we were going to see where we went. If we didn’t get some physical shit going soon, I’d be in the padded room at the nearest mental hospital.

Maybe not getting laid—or even kissed—was good for my game, though. Back in the day, the old coaches had thought so. I was playing like a fucking demon, crushing anyone in my path, and sadly that included Connor, the good guy. Nothing personal, but he stood between me and that first line center position. I’d blasted his doors off during the preseason and now, with the last preseason game against Carolina under our belts, all that remained was for Benning to make his final cuts and decide on the starting line-up. If that SOB didn’t put me on the first line, I’d—

“More balls.”

Stan’s deep voice jerked me harshly from my angry daydreams. There were ten of us gathered in my hotel room. A late season tropical depression had blown into North Carolina. Traveling had been called off until the swirling storm moved on overnight, so here the Railers sat, playing Pokémon Evolutions and dreaming about getting on the line they wanted or getting laid. I downed another can of Mountain Dew Code Red. It was my fourth. I felt like I could scale the walls like Spider-Man.

“Ten, you into this?” Addison inquired. He’d joined the training group last week and was kicking all sorts of ass. “You seem spacey.”

I tossed my training cards onto the table and stood up. “Too much Dew. I’m wired.”

The guys chuckled and play continued without me.

I paced the room like a puma in a cage. “I’m going to see if I can walk this off. Stan, you take my balls.”

“Groovy, man!” the big Russian said, then swept my cards from the table.

The laughter faded as I closed the door behind me. Starting that group had been a good idea. I’d grown much closer to several of the guys since we’d started playing. Pity we couldn’t lure any of the older players in.

I started off walking the hallway. That didn’t burn off the soda fast enough, so I jogged up and down the hotel corridor. When I’d done four laps, I was slightly winded but still cranked. I did what any man who was hard up and running on four cans of red Dew would do. I rode up to the fourth floor, where the coaches were rooming, and pounded on the door of the hottest defensive coach in the eastern division.

Mads opened the door in nothing but dress slacks and an unbuttoned dress shirt. I’d at least changed into some jeans and my favorite Doctor Who “Bowties are Cool!” T-shirt after we’d gotten back to the hotel. Not that I was complaining, because he fucking rocked his half-dressed look.

“Hey, Tennant, what’s up?”

He looked shocked and more than a little guarded. Did I send off perv vibes or something? Was I drooling? Shit, he looked so good…

“I wanted to talk to you about… uh, about how the defense is playing in the neutral zone and its impact on the forwards.” There, that sounded official in case anyone might be eavesdropping.

He eyed me warily like I was something dangerous that had come rapping on his door. A lust demon or a succubus. Could dudes be succubi?

“Come in,” he said, then stepped back to allow me to enter.

His room looked just like mine. Basic hotel tan, blue, and white. It smelled of him. His cologne and his unique scent.

“I was just diagramming some plays for the defense. I’d be happy to have your input on them, since there seems to be a problem with—”

I pounced on him. Hungry and desperate, I lunged at him, clapping my hands to the sides of his head. A sound of surprise escaped him before I covered his mouth with mine. I felt him stiffen, like he was going to push me away. Nope. We were not doing that shit now. I lapped at the seam of his mouth, then at the corners. He opened for me and I dove in, starving now for the taste of him. His mouth was wet and hot and tasted of coffee. Mads grunted. The sound amped up my desire even more. I suckled on his tongue until I got the reaction I wanted. When I did—his arms going around my waist—I released his head and grabbed his ass. Frantic for his touch, I rubbed against him, shoving my erection into his stomach. The man groaned again in reply. I made a move to palm his dick.

“My God, you’re like a chipmunk pumped full of Red Bull.” Mads chuckled breathlessly, trying to pry my hands from his crotch and ass.

“I know, I’m sorry.” My hands moved over him, desperate for all the touching they could get. “It’s just… I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks. You and I…doing this, touching, kissing, getting into your bed. I’m wired and grabby. I need more than just a smile during scrimmages, Mads.”

“I understand the need.” He held my wrists, then pressed several kisses to my mouth. “I’ve wanted this too, but we’re taking this slow, remember?”

“Why slow? I’m ready now.”

Since he had my hands, I simply leaned in to lick at his mouth. He steered me toward the bed, fingers around my wrists, kissing me with warm passion in return. His attitude to this whole sex thing was languid and lazy. It was making me insane.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asked, then shoved me into a seated position on the edge of the bed.

I gave him my dirtiest look, then reached for his belt buckle.

He patiently removed my fingers from his belt. “I’d like a little more to go on than that glare.”

“Ugh, yes. I’ve sucked dick before.”

“Have you ever had a man inside you?”

A rumble of want rippled through me. Instead of going for his dick, because he was suddenly all Mr. Chastity about it, I opened his dress shirt a little wider, baring a wide swath of hairy chest and tight abdomen. My cock throbbed in time with my pulse. I pressed a kiss to his stomach, then one to his chest, my thumbs dangling off his belt. Soft, deep noises rolled out of him each time I placed my lips to his skin.

“Tennant, have you ever had a man inside you before?”

“Once,” I replied, licking around the edge of his navel.

He placed a hand on my head, murmuring about my hair swirls or something. I glanced up to find him staring at me. He was completely into what I was doing. Our eyes locked, my tongue darted out to taste his bellybutton.

“Only once? Did you use protection?”

I sat up. “You know I’m tested regularly. You’ve seen all the players’ health reports.”

“First off, I know that. I also know you could have had unprotected sex on Monday and been tested Tuesday. So, when was it and did you use protection?”

“Yes. It was way back and Christ, you sound like my old high school health teacher. Can we just skip all of this and get to the part where you slide your cock into me?”

“Not tonight,” he replied, shucking his shirt off his shoulders.

Now we were talking. I enjoyed seeing it flutter to the floor. I loved seeing his naked chest even more.

I pulled my shirt off and tossed it aside, then wiggled back onto the bed. “So why not tonight?”

“Because I think we need to take this slow.”

I collapsed back onto the mattress with a dramatic sigh. “Mads, slow sucks. What, are we going to just pet and grind on each other like we’re fourteen or something?”

I heard his belt hit the floor. I closed my eyes, eager to hear more. The sound of his zipper going down followed. My skin itched. My balls grew heavy. The soft shuffle of his pants slipping down his legs filled the room. Then the bed sagged. The weight of him and the hot warmth of his body pressed tight to my side was all I needed. I rolled my head to face him and opened my eyes. And promptly lost everything that I was to him. There was so much in his gaze. Heat and lust, sure, but other things. A little bit of fear and a whole lot of tenderness.

I had to touch him, but he shook his head when I reached for him. Instead, he placed his hand on my stomach, flat palm to abdomen.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured.

“I want…”

A million things, but how did I tell him that? How could I articulate that I wanted him in ways I’d never wanted anyone else? That I’d dreamed of him, of this moment, of his mouth on my brow and his cock buried in me. Of his breath on my neck in the night and his smile over eggs in the morning? How? How could I tell him all that?

“I do too,” he whispered, then slid his lips over mine.

My fingers dove into his hair while his tongue made a deep, hot sweep of my mouth. I tugged softly, getting that low grunt of approval I’d gotten before after doing that. I arched my back from the bed to push my cock into Mads’ hand.

“God, but I want,” he growled after leaving my mouth to taste my throat.

“Touch me,” I panted, fingers wound in his hair.

Mads stuck to his vow, though, the jerk. Even though I was arching up he refused to touch my cock. He rubbed hard circles over my chest and shoulders, pulling me to my side then throwing a beefy leg over my hip. I nipped at his bottom lip, tipped his head back to suckle on his Adam’s apple, and gyrated wantonly against his cock as it strained against his boxers.

“I need to lose these jeans.”

“Leave them on a bit longer.” He kissed my jaw, my clavicle, then tongued a nipple, all the while rocking his hips against me. “I think watching you come in your pants would be incredibly sexy.”

“Oh Christ,” I moaned, pumping my ass to keep the friction of his dick against mine going. “You’ll jerk me off, right? Please, fuck, Mads, you have to touch me.”

“Not tonight. Tonight… is just this.” He did lower his hand to my thigh, grabbing the meaty part and tugging my leg strongly to intensify each thrust he made against me. “Next time we can go further.” Hearing him say that pushed me close. “I want us to be about more than fucking, Tennant.”

Yep. Those were the magic words, it seemed. Not something raunchy like you’d hear in gay porn. Nope. I blew apart because Mads told me he wanted more than sex with me. He held on to my leg tightly as I flailed and whimpered. His lips captured mine, swallowing the sounds of a man lost in orgasm, which was smart on his part. We were in a hotel with the head coach sleeping on the other side of the wall.

When the tremors subsided, he lifted his head and released my thigh.

“Shit… that was intense.” I huffed, then ground a bit harder into him. “Your turn.”

“I don’t have to come every time we lie down together,” he said between soft kisses placed along my biceps.

“Well, yeah, you do. That’s kind of the point,” I replied, and got a tutting kind of sound.

Swell. Miss Perkins the health teacher was back with another lecture on something that would have me sleeping on my textbook within seconds.

“Oh, impetuous and randy youth,” he teased.

I pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him, my hip bone right on his cock. He sucked air through his teeth when I bumped his dick accidentally-on-purpose.

“Tennant, you’re sort of missing the point here. Making love isn’t all about the orgasm.”

“So, you don’t want to come?”

He looked up at me, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, of course, but it doesn’t have to be the main objective every single time.”

“So, you do want to come?”

His laughter was honest and made me grin. “Yes, Tennant, I would like to come, but seeing you writhing under me when you came was incredibly erotic.”

“You liked that, huh?” I wiggled my ass around. “Did you have fantasies about making me come, Mads?”

“Every fucking night.” He tugged my mouth back to his. I got all wild and hungry, sucking on his tongue while grinding on him. “I jerked off to those fantasies too.”

“No shit,” I panted over his lips, my hips driving down into him hard. I felt a shudder go through his big body. “Fuck, that’s hot.” I bumped my budding erection against his prick.

“Christ, you’re almost hard again.”

He began working at my pants then. Eager, hard tugs on my jeans until they were down over my ass. I wiggled free of the denim, then leaped back into bed. That was when I saw the head of his dick peeping out of the top of his boxers. My briefs felt tight again.

Mads grabbed my hips and held me in place. Then he began jacking me up and down over him. The contact and rasp of cotton was unbearably delicious, just like his scorching kisses and the way he pumped up when I ground down. If only he’d let me get my mouth on him. He rolled me onto my back without warning, his eyes burning with need as I pushed my leg between his. Mouth sealed over mine, he began humping me hard. The bed thumped into the wall with each powerful thrust. I pawed at his back and arms, trying to get enough air into my lungs. Then he came. His head fell to my shoulder and all his ropey muscles contracted. I felt his prick kicking, then the hot flood of spunk soaking through our underwear. My balls tightened yet again and I lost it one more time.

“Tennant, you’re going to kill me,” he whispered beside my ear, then took the lobe between his teeth.

That off-the-cuff comment startled me. “Is it your heart?”

Of course, I knew about that condition of his. Everyone in the family—hell, the world of professional hockey—knew about his heart. And here I’d been pushing him to have sex. What if he couldn’t have sex?

“Shit, I’m sorry. Should you not be doing this? Are you stroking out on me?!”

“Tennant, no, I’m fine. It was a joke.” He nipped playfully at my jaw.

“Fuck, man, don’t do that to me ever again.” I thought I might faint with relief.

“I won’t, I promise. But you really are going to do me in.”

“You’ll die smiling, Mads.” Coming back with some humor was good—made me feel less freaked. I hoped he was okay with joking about it. “I was kidding about the dying part.” I pushed to my elbows so I could press my mouth to his. “Like, you know I was kidding…”

“I know you were,” he murmured between soft, searching kisses.

I fell back onto the bed in relief, Jared nestling into me, his weight incredibly appealing as it settled over me.

And that was how the home frottage sessions began. When we were on the road, there was no more petting. Mads had laid down that law after that one night, and I kind of understood it. We were walking a fine line with this relationship… if that was even what it was. Being discovered with our pants literally down would be one major mess for Mads and the team. Knowing he was just a few doors down when we traveled was torture. When we were home, I was at his place, because all I owned was a piano and a PlayStation, which he commented on all the time. I found his worry about my undecorated place funny.

Mads was unlike any lover I’d ever had. He was tender, methodical, patient, and determined to take things S-L-O-W. He was humorous, sharp, smart, and totally devoted to Ryker. The only complaint I had was how leisurely Jared Madsen really moved. I’d thought slow would mean a date or two then getting into the monkey sex. Nope. With Mads, slow meant moving at the speed of a fucking glacier.

“I don’t want you to regret being with an old man,” he said whenever I begged, pleaded, or demanded he fuck me, or at least let me suck that fat, uncut cock of his. I told him repeatedly over that long, incredible month that there was no way I’d ever feel that way, but he stuck to his guns. And along the way, I learned things about taking my time, pleasing my partner, and not being all about the money shot. Each time we came in each other’s arms, I grew a little closer to the man, trusted him a little more, and fell a little deeper.

 

 

He and I both went through a ridiculous amount of underwear from mid-September to Halloween, but I didn’t complain. Well, not too much. Okay, I bitched constantly. Then the first weekend of November arrived, and with it the knowledge that we were going up against Boston and Brady in a Sunday afternoon matinee game.

Brady would arrive sometime late Saturday. We were to meet up at this clubby pub down by the Capitol building and do dinner. Mostly Brady wanted to check up on me and touch base with Mads, I assumed. Whatever. I was too busy trying to make Coach Benning acknowledge how much better suited I was for the first line to worry over Brady trying to dictate my life. Benning, the stupid shit, had this mental block about playing the old vets no matter if he had someone faster, younger, stronger, and hungrier. It drove me—and several sports writers—nuts.

While I was shoving clean clothes into an overnight bag, my phone chirruped. It was my mother ringing. Guilt instantly washed over me. Her calls had gone to my voicemail nine times out of ten over the past six weeks. Not that I didn’t want to talk to her. I did. It was just Mads. Really, Mads and hockey were my life now. But still, she was my mom…

“Hey there, Mom,” I said with all kinds of cheery goodness.

“Tennant, I’ve been trying to contact you for days. What good is having a cell phone if you never answer it? Your father was starting to worry that you were in a ditch somewhere.”

“Right, it was Dad worrying about me in a ditch.” I had to chuckle at her. I tossed a handful of clean underwear into my duffle.

“Don’t get sassy. There were two reasons I was calling. One was to ask if you’ve been playing the piano. Have you?”

I glanced at my dusty piano. “No, not recently.” I’ve been too busy playing hockey and grinding on Mads, Mom.

“I was afraid of that. Put the PlayStation controller down occasionally and play that piano. You’ll thank me someday.”

I rolled my eyes but mumbled something to placate her.

“Secondly, you remember Jennifer Gates?”

I froze with a clean T-shirt in my hands. “Uh, yeah…”

“She just completed her studies and has come back home to start teaching kindergarten over at your elementary school. Isn’t that exciting? She’s staying with her parents until she can find an apartment. Well, you know how much your dad and I always thought of Jennifer, so I invited her and her folks for Thanksgiving dinner. Tennant? Honey?”

“I… Uh, I’m here, Mom, just thinking.”

I dropped the shirt I’d been gripping into my duffel bag. Jennifer Gates. Nice, sweet, perky Jennifer. My beard all through high school. Hell, I’d even fondled her boobs the night of junior prom just to keep the ruse going. When she’d moved off to Colorado to get her education degree, I’d pretended to miss her like a boyfriend would miss a girlfriend. My eyes drifted shut. Mom started talking about old times and how Jennifer had always been so smart and clever. Oh, and those big brown eyes of hers always sparkled.

“… after we eat and spend the evening. Maybe you and her can rekindle?”

I opened my eyes and stared down at the bag I was packing to take over to Mads’ place. “Mom, can we do a video chat?”

“Oh, sure. Let me grab my coffee.” She dashed off.

I sat down beside my bag. The bag holding the clothes that I was taking to my gay lover’s. Wow. Okay. This was not how I’d planned this. Actually, I’d never planned it at all.

“Okay, I’m back. Dad says hi.”

“Tell Dad to stick close, okay?”

I got us into the video chat, my fingers shaking so badly I almost dropped my cell a few times. She accepted the call, and then there they were, heads side by side, smiling at me. Nope. No. I couldn’t do this. Not like this. Not over the phone.

“Here’s Dad.” Mom patted his cheek. “He’s very happy about Jennifer coming back home too.”

Okay. Yeah. It had to be now… like this. Fuck. Shit.

“Mom, Dad, I’m really happy that Jennifer is back home.” Mom gave Dad a knowing wink. “But I’m not going to rekindle anything with her because… well, there is nothing to rekindle.”

“Oh, Tennant,” Mom said as Dad stood bent over behind her, his dark eyes locked on me. “Of course, there is. You took that girl to every dance. She went to all your games and cheered you on. Everyone knew you two were a couple. Why, you and Jen were chosen “Most Likely To Live Happily-Ever-After” in your yearbook.”

“She’s available, son.” Dad chimed in. “Your mother asked.”

“Oh God,” I moaned.

“I didn’t ask Jennifer,” Mom quickly clarified. “I asked her mother. You need to make sure you fill in the important details,” she gently scolded the man standing behind her.

“Mom, it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s available. I’m not.”

They both took a second to digest that announcement. It kind of shocked me too, but now that I’d said it, it felt right. Mads was the only person I wanted to be with.

“Oh, well, you never mentioned you were seeing a new girl…”

I took a deep breath as I stared right into my mother’s eyes. “That’s because it’s not a girl.”

And all the air on planet Earth was sucked into a vortex. Had to have been, because breathing got damn difficult. Mom looked shaky. Dad… Dad was spinning wheels for sure.

“Are you saying that you’re gay?” Mom finally asked.

I sucked in a huge breath of air and nodded. Mom sat in our kitchen looking at me as if she didn’t know me. Dad walked away. I started to tear up. Fuck. My father had just walked out…

“Tennant, oh honey, why didn’t you tell us sooner? I wouldn’t have pushed Jennifer on you if I’d… Bruce, come back from the window. Dear Lord, he’ll think you walked out.”

Oh. My. God. He’d just gone to look at the back yard. That was what he always did when he was hit with shit out of the blue. He’d go look at the yard while he processed. Said he found the yard calming.

He was looking at the yard. He didn’t walk out. Oh fuck. I started crying.

“Tennant? Son. Oh, Bruce!” Mom started crying.

“Son.” That was Dad. I cried even harder, my tears splattering on the front of my phone. “Tennant, don’t cry. Please. It was just… unexpected news, that’s all.”

“I didn’t want to tell you guys like this…” I coughed, snuffled, then used the shirt I’d just packed to wipe my face and phone. “But the Jennifer thing. Mom, I don’t want her thinking there’s anything between us. There never was. Not like that. I lied to her. I’ve lied to so many people. Dad, please don’t walk out again.”

“I won’t, son. Don’t you worry. Not ever.”

That made me cry harder. I’m not sure how long Mom and I sat there weeping and trying to talk. We said all kinds of things, the three of us. Most of it was stupid apologies from both sides. I was sorry for being born gay and they were sorry for not being better gay parents, which made me snort-laugh so hard my sinuses vibrated. Then I told them that I loved them. And they told me the same thing.

“This boyfriend,” Mom asked after the tears were finally drying on all our faces. Dad had gone a little weepy too. “Is he nice? Does he treat you well?”

“Yeah, he does. I’m not really comfortable with this yet—talking about it with you guys—but he’s great.” Telling them the man I was seeing was Mads just was not happening today. No way could I do any more drama.

“Maybe you could talk to Brady or Jamie about him? I’m assuming they’ve known for some time. Parents are always the last to know.” Mom sighed. Dad rubbed her shoulder. I sure had fucked up their day.

“No, neither of them knows. Just you, and Mads, and some of the Railers’ team and management. Not the whole team, just the captain. I came out to Mads first. There was a fight on the ice.” I tried to explain. They both got all sorts of fired-up about the slur. And that made me want to cry again, but I held back the tears. “Please don’t tell Brady or Jamie. Let me do it my own way, okay?”

“Yes, of course, son,” Dad hurried to say.

Mom nodded, then took a shaky sip of her tea. I’d bet they’d both have something way stronger than coffee or tea to drink after this talk ended.

“Tennant? Should we join GLAAD?” Dad asked.

“Oh, Bruce, I think we should,” Mom gushed, like joining GLAAD was the best thing since strawberry jam or Sir Elton John. “We can march with Tennant during Pride Week. Would you like that, Tennant?”

“That would be epic.”

I honestly didn’t think I could love them more than I did right then. I cried again. They did too. I was still working on getting Weepy Ten under control when I finally got myself together enough to head over to Mads’ place. This was big, and I needed him.

 

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