Kissing Lennon is even better than scoring on the ice. The second I pull him up through the trapdoor of the treehouse, his mouth is on mine, and his body is pressed against me. Not that there’s much room up here for him to be far apart from me.

Lennon lets out a tiny squeak when my hand trails down his back and grasps his ass.

It’s like being back in peewee hockey and taking to my skates those first few times. Adrenaline, nerves, the desire to fly without falling … the newness of it all has my hands trembling and my body aching with need.

The treehouse is cramped, and I have to hunch over to even fit in here. The place is dusty, covered in cobwebs and dead leaves, and it’s probably not structurally safe anymore, but I don’t care.

I need this. My lips break away from his and trail down his cheek, past the light stubble on his neck, and down to his shoulder. The material of his T-shirt is not as tasty as his skin.

“Off,” I murmur.

“I dunno. I’m kind of scared of getting tetanus in here or something.”

I chuckle. “Fine. I’ll just have to find somewhere to put my mouth without removing any clothing.”

“Sounds like a fun challenge.”

As I get to my knees, my back scrapes the side of the treehouse. “Ouch. There’s really no room in here. I remember it being a lot bigger when I was a kid.”

Lennon laughs. “I bet.”

“This is so not how I imagined this going,” I say. I think I’ve got a splinter in my back.

“You imagined this?”

“Not exactly, but I was definitely hoping for some of this.” My hand moves over his cock, and he shudders with a small moan. “I’d planned on doing it after the game tomorrow night and worm my way into your hotel room.” My voice goes all high and innocent. “It’s too late to drive back to my parents’ house. I’m tired. I promise I won’t jump you as soon as we get there.”

“And then you were going to jump me?” He’s breathless now as I continue to rub his cock over his jeans.

“Actually, I was going to be so damn irresistible you wouldn’t be able to help yourself and you’d jump me.”

“Brilliant plan,” he taunts.

“Flawless.”

“You’re full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Confident.” I reach for the button on his jeans.

The light mood jumps out the crudely cut window, along with all the air—if Lennon’s gasp when I unzip him and pull out his cock is anything to go by.

His legs wobble, and he lifts his hand to the low roof to steady himself. His other hand flies to my shoulder and grips tight.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” I whisper, giving him a hard pump.

His cock, long and thick, twitches in my hand.

“I’ve wanted a jock on his knees in front of me since I was a teenager.”

“No pressure,” I say and finally, finally, we both get our wish as I run my tongue over his slit and then down his shaft.

His musky scent makes my dick ache, and if anyone had asked me what I missed most about sex, I wouldn’t have said giving head. Receiving, maybe, but not giving. This, right here, looking up at Lennon’s blissed-out face while I take him into my mouth, with his glasses slowly sliding down his thin nose … I’d gladly stay in this position forever, if my back wasn’t protesting and my knees weren’t killing me.

Blowjob in a treehouse? Not a smart idea.

“God, that’s so good.” Lennon’s voice is gruff, something I’ve never heard from him before, and the aches in my back disappear. All the pain goes to my groin, my cock leaking from excitement. Or neglect. I’m not sure yet.

Lennon’s hard length slides in and out of my mouth with ease, and I wish we didn’t have clothes in the way. I want to take him all the way to the back of my throat, breathe him in, play with his balls, but through the tiny hole in his boxer briefs, I only have access to his cock. Granted, it’s an amazing cock, but I want more.

Later, a voice says.

I pull off to catch my breath and lick my way down the underside, pressing my tongue against a pulsing vein. More delicious precum pools at the tip, and I can’t take it anymore. As I take him in my mouth again, my fingers go to my jeans and hastily unfasten them, taking my own cock out.

One hand strokes myself while the other goes to the base of Lennon’s dick. I suck harder, and he begins panting.

“I’m … I’m gonna …”

I don’t move away, and as the first spurts of his release hit my tongue, I work my cock faster. He continues to fill me, saliva and cum dribbling out the side of my mouth.

I keep going until Lennon comes down from his high, his dick softening in my mouth as I lap at his cum. His grip on my shoulder loosens, and when he takes a step back, I whine. I want more. I want—

Lennon sinks to the floor, and his hand lands on top of mine, stilling it on my cock. “Let me.”

He takes his glasses off and puts them in his shirt pocket. I watch as if he’s moving in slow motion. He’s not moving fast enough.

I breathe hard, and a begging quality I didn’t know I had enters my voice when I say, “I’m so close. I need … I need …”

We have to shuffle on our knees in the small space so Lennon’s able to lean down and take my cock in his mouth, but when he does, and I finally have those lips wrapped around me, I can’t help moaning so loud everyone on the property could hear me.

He pulls off my cock with a wet pop. “I thought we came in here so no one could hear us.”

“Oh my God, I don’t care right now. Just put me out of my misery.”

“This is torture, is it?” His pink tongue darts out and lightly runs up my shaft from base to tip.

“Fuck you. I didn’t tease you.”

Lennon smirks. “You’re right. How mean of me. Maybe you should show me how you like it by fucking my mouth.”

My head falls backward. “How are you real?” It’s like Lennon looked into my brain and saw my deepest fantasies and then went Okay, let’s do that.

With my eyes closed, I feel the heat of his wet mouth moving over me again. I glance down at him, and he nods encouragement.

My first thrusts are small and shallow, testing it out. I didn’t know it was possible for someone to call me a pussy with just their eyes, but Lennon pulls it off flawlessly.

If that’s how he wants to play it …

I grip the back of his head and my hips thrust harder this time, and Lennon hums around my dick. At first, I think it’s in pain, but then we make eye contact again, and his eyes are hooded and filled with lust.

Without a doubt, I’m not going to last long. I was already dancing on the edge before he had his mouth on me.

The small space makes it hard to go all out, but with my hand fisted in his hair, and me kneeling, it doesn’t take a whole lot of movement to go to the back of his throat.

It’s hot and tight, and his cheeks hollow as he sucks me down.

If I hadn’t been so on edge from blowing him already, I’d be embarrassed by how fast I come. As the first spurts hit, Lennon hums a satisfied sound around my cock.

“Fuck,” I pant over and over again.

I haven’t come so hard in my damn life. My body feels like jelly, my legs going numb beneath me.

Lennon pulls off and leans back on his heels, breathing heavy and staring at me with orgasm goggles. I’m sure it matches my gaze.

“We should probably, uh …” I glance down at his cock, still hanging out the fly of his pants.

He laughs and adjusts himself. “Yeah. Probably.”

Lennon lands on his ass beside me, and I roll off my knees and stretch my legs out, but in the small space, they’re still bent and at an awkward angle.

We breathe heavy as we fix our clothing, and as we relax against the wall of the treehouse, I reach into my pocket and pull out a joint.

“Smoke?”

“Is that …” He looks closer.

“Good ol’ Mary Jane? Yup.”

Lennon smiles. “Should you be smoking that?”

“Not on the NHL’s banned list, and besides, season’s over. You gonna report on it if I do?”

He grabs the joint out of my hand. “I can’t believe you asked me that, asshole.” He holds his hand out for a lighter.

“You said yourself if you found me with drugs—”

“I meant like performance-enhancing shit. Cheating.” He stares down at the joint. “Okay, so how do I do this?”

“You’ve never smoked pot before?”

“Why’s that so hard to believe?”

“It’s a rite of passage. Here …” I take it back off him and light up, taking a deep breath in as I do. “Mmm,” I say as I exhale. “Orgasms and getting high. It’s better than birthday cake.”

Lennon chuckles. “Share.”

“I dunno. I don’t wanna corrupt you.”

“You dragged me into your childhood treehouse to blow you. I think the corruption has already begun.”

I screw up my face. “Totally sounds perverted when you say it that way.”

“I’m okay with perverted.” He takes a drag from the joint and coughs.

“Oh. Yeah. Guess I should’ve warned you about that. Max said it was strong.”

“I’m cool,” he says, his voice croaky. “But, uh, Max gave you this? Why?” He holds it out to me.

I put the joint to my lips and take another deep breath. “Because Ash is a dick.” I laugh on the exhale. I don’t know why that’s funny.

“Are you upset he’s getting married?”

My brow furrows. “How’d you know?”

“Your mom. I think your whole family knows already.”

“Fuuuuck.” I throw my head back on the side of the treehouse and bang it repeatedly. The whole structure shakes, so I force myself to stop even though I don’t want to. “I don’t know why I’m upset about it,” I admit.

“You two had a life together. It makes sense. And it’s soon, right? Like, to be that serious with another guy already.”

“That’s what I said.” I sigh. “Max hates the new guy. He’s pissed because we’ve both moved on so fast, and it seems like a waste or whatever. Evidently, I think it was that he was more invested in me and Ash getting married than either of us were.”

And that’s the funny thing about it all. I don’t like that Ash is getting married, but it’s not because I wish he was marrying me. In fact, when I think about standing at an altar and promising forever, I thank God I dodged that bullet. I guess that says a lot about Ash’s and my relationship.

“Is Max still gonna be an ass about it?” Lennon asks.

“Nah. He actually apologized.” I hold up the joint. “His peace offering. Said he wants me to be happy, but it’s hard for him. He’s gonna try though. And he won’t be a dick to you anymore.”

“Right. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“It’s a shitty thing, what Ash and I did to him. We put him right in the middle. He’s my brother, but he’s Ash’s business partner. Doesn’t give him a right to be an asshole to you, and he knows that.”

Lennon reaches for the joint but hesitates for a moment before taking a hit. When he blows it back out, he turns to me and takes a deep breath as if gathering the courage to say whatever he’s thinking. “I think Ash would take you back if you came out.”

“What makes you say that?” I ask cautiously. I’ve thought about that very thing a lot this past year, but I always come back to the same conclusion. We made the right decision to split.

“I overheard him talking to Vic. He said he was kind of hoping finding out he’s engaged would make you pick up the phone. I’m guessing he meant to call Damon.”

Lennon refuses to look at me, and maybe I should be offended he’d think I’d jump at the chance, especially after just blowing him, but in his defense, I haven’t really told him much about Ash’s and my relationship.

I take another hit. “Here’s the thing about Ash and me. Growing up, I idolized all my brothers and followed them all around like a puppy. But when Ash moved in next door, everything became about him. I’d only follow him, and because he and Max were the same age and in the same class at school, it meant I followed both of them.”

Lennon smiles. “That’s kind of cute. I can imagine little Ollie following after his first crush.”

“Cute’s one word for it. Max liked to call it annoying and pathetic, but sure, let’s go with cute. Anyway … so …” I try to think of a way to explain it, but it’s a weird power dynamic I don’t quite understand myself. “Have you ever met anyone famous?”

“Hello, random subject change. How strong is this shit?” He reaches for the joint again.

“I have a point. I swear.”

“I’ve met a few athletes I idolized growing up, if that’s what you mean,” he says on an exhale, his voice all husky and sexy again.

I almost lose my train of thought but shake it free. “Yeah. So, you have expectations of them, right? And then when you meet them and realize they’re just human, it’s a bit of a letdown? Well, I never expected Ash to look at me in that way. When he came out, I was fourteen, which made me look up to him even more, even though I wasn’t one hundred percent sure why, because I hadn’t worked it out for myself yet. But when we started dating, I kinda did everything his way because whenever he’d dismiss one of my ideas for dinner or make me watch shitty films, I’d swallow my irritation down and remind myself I’m with Ash. The Ash. Ash wants me.”

“He was controlling?”

I shake my head. “No. Nothing like that. I did it to make him happy.” I shift, trying to get more comfortable—in the tiny treehouse or with this conversation, I’m not entirely sure. “You know how relationships are about compromising and communication and—”

“I know shit all about relationships. You forget my longest ones haven’t even lasted an entire season before.”

“Well, with Ash and me, it always seemed like I’d be the one giving in all the time because it was Ash. I had some weird hero worship thing for the guy from when I was a kid. Not to mention we had nothing in common. The main thing that connected us was our family and our childhood. Add that to the guilt over being closeted, it made for an uneven relationship. Everything was about him. The one thing I had was keeping us a secret—which is a big fucking deal, I know—but that meant to make up for it, I was giving him everything he ever asked for or wanted. We weren’t equals. I loved him, yeah, and it’s not even his fault that’s how our relationship was, but I still have no desire to go back to that.”

Lennon’s body relaxes, and I didn’t realize how uptight he was while I answered that question until the tension leaves him. He leans in and his hand finds my thigh. “You didn’t need to explain that, but I’m glad you did. I’ve been … curious, because until now I thought the only reason you weren’t together was because of your career. That maybe … I mean, you have matching tattoos, for fuck’s sake.”

“You saw that, huh?” I wrap my arm around his shoulders. “I don’t regret the tattoo or what it means. Ash was a huge part of my life. He’s part of me. But we had way more problems than my closet door. And even if I were to come out tomorrow, I’m kinda taken with someone else now.” Leaning in, I kiss the side of his neck. “Some gorgeous blond Clark Kent lookalike guy I can’t get out of my head.”

“He sounds hot.” His laugh is short and self-deprecating and then he turns serious. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can, but I might not answer.”

“Fair enough. I’m, umm …”

I get the feeling whatever it is, it’s serious, so I make him take another hit of the joint, which is almost finished.

He nods as if building the courage to say what’s on his mind. “Why doesn’t your family know how much pressure they put on you?”

Ah, shit. I grab the joint and wish there wasn’t only one drag left. Still, I savor it while I try to get my excuse together in my head.

“There are a lot of reasons.”

“Have you tried to explain it to them? Because the impression I get is they’ve never seen your side.”

“They haven’t. They live in a world where they see the activists on the streets, the pride parades, the fight for love, and they think that’s how it’d be across the board. Hell, Massachusetts was the first state to legalize same-sex marriage, so my brothers and I were brought up on it, if you know what I mean. But none of my family has experienced the bullshit of the industry yet—even Nic, Vic, and Leo, who are in sports. They don’t understand it’s not that easy. How can I be the asshole who yells at the people who love me so much they want me to have the world? Like I’m ungrateful for their support.”

“So, you grit your teeth and let them believe you have an issue with being gay instead of telling them what it’s really like for gay men in sports?”

“I tell them,” I argue, but it’s flat, because I think we both know it’s not the truth. “I tried telling them in the beginning. I think I suck at words or maybe at getting them to understand it’s not about being a coward but about risking the thing I love most. Like, Nic and Vic are in MMA, where you work your way up. You have your competitors and that’s it. I have guys in the AHL eyeing my fucking spot. My teammates are also my competitors. We all want first line, we all want MVP, and we all want to be the one to put the biscuit in the basket. I’m replaceable, and any shit on my career could be career suicide.”

Lennon smiles.

“What?” I ask.

“Considering you think you’re bad at words, you just explained it pretty well to me.”

Ugh. He’s right.

“Why can’t I talk to them like that?”

“I don’t know, but I think you need to find a way. Right now, there’s a whole lot of confusion going on in that house. Everyone thinks the only thing getting in your and Ash’s way was the closet door. They think the only thing between you and happiness is saying two little words at a tiny press conference. It’s about time you set them straight.”

“Or not so straight.”

Lennon lets out a loaded sigh. “Man, this conversation is too deep for my first time being high.”

I laugh harder. “Just wait until the conversation that’s coming after our explosions earlier.”

Lennon grumbles and rests his head on my shoulder. “I wanna sleep.”

“Ha. You’re all chill when you’re high. I think I like it. But uh, my legs are going numb, my ass is sore, and I think I have a splinter in my back.”

With a groan of protest, he moves away from me so we can open the trapdoor again to climb down and face the music.

This has been a good break from the family drama, but Lennon’s right. I need to try to explain my situation so they understand.