3

Theodore~

“Do you know the new guy?”

Joe’s voice was casual, but I could feel his eyes on me as we walked toward the lockers. I kept mine forward, jaw tight.

“No. Why?”

“You’re looking at him weirdly.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to fuck every guy, Joe,” I muttered under my breath, making sure no one else heard.

Technically, I already have been fucked by that guy. Which is worse than wanting to.

What’s worse than being a closeted captain of a hockey team?

Being the closeted captain who got wrecked by his new winger twelve hours before practice.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Joe said, bumping his shoulder lightly into mine.

I rolled my eyes and started stripping off my gear. “Drop it.”

Joe studied me for another second but thankfully didn’t push.

I had bigger problems.

Like Noah’s smirk.

Like the way his eyes dropped to my neck like he knew exactly what he’d left there. Like the fact that he was now permanently attached to my line.

Fantastic.

I slammed my locker shut a little harder than necessary. Right on cue, my phone started ringing again.

I groaned. “Can I catch a break from this p—”

I checked the screen.

Mom.

My expression softened instantly.

“Lovely, lovely, lovely to hear from you, my wonderful mother!” I answered as I walked out of the locker room. One thing about me? I absolutely fucking adore my mom. She raised me on her own. Worked herself to exhaustion for me. She’s my favorite person on this planet.

“Theodore…” Her voice came through warm and sweet, but there was something else there too.

Excitement.

Suspicious.

“Theodore’s mother,” I replied dramatically.

She sighed. “I’m getting married.”

“And I’m pregnant.”

“Theodore, I’m serious.”

I pulled the phone back to look at it. Yep. Still my mother.

“What happened to ‘I hate men’?” I almost laughed. “And how come I never heard of this guy until you’re getting married?”

When I was seven, my father decided we were inconvenient. Packed his things. Left us for someone younger and shinier. My mom never dated seriously after that. She poured everything into me.

So yeah, the news shocked me but it didn’t scare me.

If she was happy? That’s all I cared about.

“I want you to come today,” she continued gently. “You can meet him.”

“Mother…” I dragged the word out.

“Please, Theodore. I want you to get along with his family too.”

I froze mid-step. “Family?”

“Well,” she hesitated slightly, “he’s kind of a single dad. He has a son. Around your age.”

I swiped an invisible bead of sweat off my forehead. 

“Oh thank God. I thought my twenty one-year-old ass was about to become a full-time babysitter for a five-year-old.”

She laughed. “No. He’s in college too.”

“I can spare you an hour now, Ma,” I said. 

“I’ve got class and practice later.”

“Perfect! I’ll text you the address.”

“Okay.”

We hung up.

I stared at my phone for a second.

New teammate I’ve slept with.

New stepfamily I didn’t know existed.

Same day.

What could possibly go wrong?

****************

I sat down quietly with the menu still in my hands as I waited for my mother and her new family. I was dressed simple. 

A few minutes later, my mother appeared, hand in hand with a man much taller than her. She looped her free hand around his arm shyly, leaning into him slightly as he said something that made her laugh. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through me. That’s my mother. My anchor. My world.

The thought hit me hard: what if this—whatever this was between them—changed her feelings for me? What if she didn’t need me anymore? What if she started prioritizing him… or worse, his son? I had seen it happen before, heard it whispered in stories that ended with someone feeling abandoned. What if that became my reality?

“Theodore…”

Her hand landed gently on mine, warm and grounding. I snapped back to the present, startled, my pulse still hammering. Her eyes, soft but serious, bore into me. Concern. She knows. She always knows when I overthink too much, when my mind spirals faster than my heart.

The man stood behind, his gaze fixed on me. 

“Uh… hi,” I said awkwardly, standing up to shake his hand. My stomach twisted as I glanced at him. I didn’t want to upset my mom, but at the same time, I wished I could just disappear.

“Theodore…” My mom’s face lit up as she reached for me. “This is Jeff.”

“Jeff, my son… Theodore,” she added, gesturing proudly.

“Hello, sir,” I said, forcing a polite smile as I nodded. My hand felt clammy as I held out my palm.

“Theodore…” Jeff’s grip was firm but not overbearing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Sit, sit,” my mom said, guiding me back to my chair. She settled beside me, her hands finding mine under the table. She squeezed them gently, a silent reassurance that made my chest ache.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “My son’s running a bit late. We just got here today, and he’s trying to settle in.”

I nodded, forcing another smile. “I understand.”

“For the time being, why don’t we just get to know each other?” Jeff said, voice calm and measured. “I understand your mom mentioned you can be… a little possessive of her. I want to assure you, Theodore—your relationship with your mother won’t be changing because of me or my son.”

For some reason, his words made me feel a little… relieved. Maybe it was the way he said it, confident but not arrogant, like he wasn’t trying to stake any claim. Nevertheless, I still wasn’t taking any risk. He could be fake for all I know, was he rich? I mean, I can manage if he’s rich. Not that I’m after his money or anything but my mom… I want a rich man for her. 

“Uh… I’m not that much,” I mumbled, still unsure how much honesty I could afford.

Jeff chuckled softly. “Oh, come on. Your mom said you’re the captain of your hockey team. That’s a big deal.” He leaned back slightly, giving me an appraising look. “My son plays hockey too. I think you two might get along pretty well.”

Jeff smiled faintly, leaning forward a little. “So, Theodore… what position do you play?”

“Center,” I said automatically.

“Center, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, a subtle glint of interest in his eyes. “My son plays winger. Maybe you two will make a good line.”

“Uh… yeah,” I said cautiously, forcing a small smile, hoping I sounded casual and not like I was internally screaming. It’s not like his son and I attended the same college for us to be playing together anyways. 

My mom squeezed my hand under the table. “Theodore… don’t be shy. He’s trying to be friendly.”

I nodded, taking a shaky breath. “Of course.”

Remember when I asked, what could possibly go wrong?

Yep.

What could possibly go wrong is the same guy I hooked up with—the one I swore I’d never see again—who is also my new teammate, stepping through the restaurant door… and walking straight toward us.

My stomach dropped. My chest tightened. My hands curled into fists under the table, trying not to betray my panic. Please, let this not be what I’m thinking. 

“Dad?” My stomach dropped as he stopped right in front of us, his eyes filled with disbelief on seeing me. 

“This is Noah, my son.”