The Icon Bank arena shared a parking lot with the Theodore Abernathy sports complex. Connor walked past the statue of Theodore Abernathy, tennis pro and World War I flying ace, the pride of Hidden Creek. Immortalized in bronze, old Teddy looked proud to be standing there, one foot up on a rock, a tennis racket in his hand, and a long scarf blowing behind him. Today, Teddy wore a Miley Cyrus “Best of Both Worlds” tour T-shirt.

Connor had always wondered about Teddy. A confirmed bachelor who’d left his entire fortune to the town, according to the plaque, Connor suspected the old boy had played for the same team as him and Beau. If felt like they had a bond across the ages.

Connor patted the old guy on his butt, the way everyone did. The bronze had worn away over the years. It had been a long time since Connor had been around the Abernathy. Most of the time he’d spent there in the past had been after dark and on non-athletic activities. Unless you counted smoking joints on the roof as a sport. If so, Connor deserved at least a bronze medal.

The years hadn’t been kind to the sports complex. The roof needed repairs, and some of the paint was starting to chip in places. It looked a little old and tired.

The new arena behind it, however, looked great. For starters, it was much bigger than Connor had expected, and much more professional. He’d been picturing the local skating rink with its backless bench seats, but when he’d called about tickets, he found that it actually had assigned seats. The tickets were cheap enough that Connor treated them all to the most expensive ones he could get. They were in the club section, whatever that was.

“I want popcorn,” Micah said as they walked through the concourse past the few concession stands that were open. They’d gotten there early because Connor hadn’t known what to expect, so the sparse crowd didn’t surprise him. A little research had told him they’d be able to watch practice if they got their early enough.

“If she gets popcorn, I want nachos,” Sean said.

“Me, too. And a drink,” Benji added.

Connor shrugged and dug his wallet out of his pocket, careful not to drop the signs they’d made the night before. He waited semi-patiently while the kids hunted down the perfect snacks. The beer cart called to him, and so did the pack of cigarettes in his jacket. But he was trying to quit smoking. So beer it was, a nice, cold Lone Star.

The crowd was growing. It seemed like every other person wore some kind of Tornado jersey or commemorative T-shirt. Maybe hockey was a bigger deal than he had known. The fans seemed into it, and the game hadn’t even started yet.

Beau had no idea they were coming. As far as he knew, Connor and the kids were having family movie night with the latest Spiderman movie.

Far sooner than Connor expected, Benji, Sean, Micah, and Fiona returned. “Fiona, did you pretend you were pregnant again so people would feel sorry for you and let you cut to the front of the line?” The last thing he needed was the Walrus on his case because his teenage sister wanted snacks without the wait.

“No,” she protested. If she hadn’t been holding a box of popcorn and a drink, Connor knew she would have crossed her arms. “There was no line.”

Connor looked up at the concession stand to see if she was telling the truth. Sure enough, there were only one or two other people queued up for snacks.

“Let’s go find our seats.” He led them around the arena until he found the gate that matched the letter on their tickets.

“Woah,” Benji said, stopping dead at the top of the stairs.

Connor had to agree. This was way more than he had been expecting. He’d kind of pictured Beau’s team on a similar level to Sean's high school baseball team. This was way past that. It might be the lowest rung of professional hockey, but these guys were still pros.

Connor looked around the big arena. A giant four-sided flat screen display hanging from the ceiling showed highlights from past games and short bios of the players. Electronic displays wrapped around the whole space, spelling out upcoming events in flashing LED lights. Music blared from the speakers, and cheerleaders danced on a glassed-in stage near the ice.

The teams were out on the ice already, warming up before the game. Connor tried to pick out Beau in the crowd, but the players were moving too quickly. Both teams were out and he watched, mesmerized as they skated figure eights in front of the net, shooting a cascade of pucks at the goalie.

Kids stood right up against the glass, trying to get their favorite player’s attention. “Can we go down, too?” Benji asked.

“I don’t see why not.” They thundered down to the glass, Connor walking a little more carefully behind them.

“Beau!” Benji shouted, jumping up and down like a wild man.

Connor saw the second Beau realized they were there. He skated past them, stopped on a dime, and then skated back. “Holy shit! Dudes!” His huge smile was visible through the shield of his helmet. “You came!” They had to shout to be heard over the music.

Connor had already thought Beau was sexy as fuck with his muscles and that smile. He looked even sexier in his gear; bigger, stronger. Connor’s mouth went dry as he developed an instant hockey uniform fetish.

“Are you surprised?” Benji yelled.

“Totally!” Beau knocked on the glass with his stick as the players skated behind him, throwing the occasional curious glance their way.

“We’re celebrating passing that damn inspection, too,” Connor said.

“You passed? I knew we did more than that guy even asked, but I figured he’d give you a hard time anyway.”

Connor shook his head with a wide smile. “Nope. He had zero to complain about. There was an inspector with him. That guy said they didn’t even have to come back. Everything was perfect.”

“Fuck, yeah!” Beau said. He pushed his glove against the glass for fist bump. Connor bumped his knuckles against the glass on his side.

“We brought posters!” Micah said. She held up her poster, which read ‘Way to Go Beau!’ in puff paint. She’d started strong, but misjudged the space so the A and U were noticeably skinnier than the rest of the letters.

Beau cleared his throat. “That’s…wow. Thanks, guys. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Really.” His gaze kept returning to Connor. The soft gratitude in his eyes made Connor’s heart twinge. It was such a small thing they had done. Had Beau never had friends or family or any kind of support group?

A guy in a suit in the dugout or whatever you called the place where the players sat pointed a finger at Beau and yelled something, very clearly urging him back to work.

Beau rolled his eyes. “Be right back.”

He skated over to his team and took a few shots at the goal while the guy was watching. As soon as he went back to the bench, Beau skated back to them.

Connor unzipped his jacket, revealing a bright blue T-shirt with a hand-painted Tornadoes logo on it. When Beau noticed it, he turned to show ‘Hopper’ and ‘18’ painted on the back.

Mouth hanging open, Beau skated right into the glass like a confused bird flying into a sliding door.

Connor laughed. “Do you like it?”

The look he gave Connor could have melted the ice. It gave Connor some seriously impure thoughts. He prayed the kids weren’t able to read the message in Beau’s eyes.

Given the way Sean stiffened up, he at least had interpreted it correctly. Connor was going to have to talk to Sean about some things, and soon.

The kids pulled off their jackets to show matching T-shirts.

“You made those?” Beau asked, voice tight with emotion.

Micah nodded. “Fiona made them. She rocks.”

A whistle blew, and the players skated off the ice. Beau gave Connor one more scorching glance that had him remembering Peggy’s advice about babysitters and motel rooms. He winked at the kids and tossed a puck over the glass ice to Micah. “Where are you sitting?”

Connor pointed to their seats a few rows up from the glass. Beau gave him a thumbs-up, knocked on the glass with his stick in acknowledgement, and then skated away.

There was a little bit of scuffling while they picked seats. There hadn’t been five free seats in a row, so they’d grabbed seats on two rows, two on top, three on the bottom. In the end, Connor and Micah took the seats above Sean, Benji, and Fiona, Benji sandwiched in between his older siblings.

“Yes!” Benji yelled when he saw the sheet of cardboard with a Tornadoes logo on his chair. Before Connor could get settled, Benji had it accordion-folded and was whapping it against his skinny thigh, his little contribution to the chaos of the place.

Two women slid into the seats beside Micah right before puck drop. They wore official Tornado jerseys with Delia’s and Youngblood’s names on them, and had blue and white streaks painted on their faces.

“Dang I thought we were gonna miss it,” the blond woman closest to Micah said.

“I told you we’d get here on time,” her friend said. “Trust me when I’m driving.”

“Trust you? You nearly crashed three separate times.”

The brunette looked skeptical. “But did we die? No. Not even once.” She leaned over to Micah and Connor. “Ignore Nanette. She's a drama queen. I’m a better driver than she says.”

Nanette rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Dee.”

She suddenly went still and her hands clenched. Connor frowned. Was she having some kind of fit? Should they try and touch her? A whistle blew, and before he could ask if she needed help, she shot out of her seat and whooped loudly, slapping the clapper against her thigh.

“Yeah, that’s right! Suck it!”

“What just happened?” Micah asked him.

Connor had no idea. One of the players on the other team yelled something as he skated into what Connor assumed was a penalty box.

An ice-skating referee in a black and white striped shirt and hockey helmet skated into the middle of the ice, made some hand gestures, and yelled over the PA. “Steelheads. Number eighteen. Two minutes for slashing.”

While the team reset, small blimps circled the arena. The announcer mumbled something incomprehensible and kids leaped out of their seats as pieces of paper drifted down from the bellies of the blimps.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Fiona shouted.

“Oh honey, is this y’all’s first hockey game?” Dee asked, once most of the cheering had died down. At least, as much as it was going to. Her accent was Southern, but not the kind of Southern Connor expected to hear in Texas.

“Yeah,” Micah said. “First one!”

“Well, that guy who went into the sin bin? He got in trouble for slashing, which is just what it sounds like.” She mimed hitting someone with a hockey stick. “You can’t do that. Now, there are a whole bunch of penalties.”

Micah listened, captivated as Dee’s soft voice rattled off the rules of the game.

“I can’t follow this thing,” he muttered.

“You’re not supposed to follow the puck, Con,” Micah said, as though explaining to a small child. “Watch where the players are looking. See?”

She pointed and Connor realized she had a point. How did she know that, anyway?

“I didn’t know you knew anything about hockey.”

Micah shrugged. “Baseball’s boring. And football…” She didn’t even finish her train of thought, just rolled her eyes.

Watching the game with her was more fun than he thought it would be. Turned out, she loved hockey. Every time the team scored, she jumped out of her seat and screamed as loud as she could, and when two of the guys got into it—Riley and some other guy from the opposing team—she let loose a string of insults that were far more creative than his had been at her age.

Both teams huddled around the Steelheads’ net, battling for a puck Connor couldn’t see. The crowd jumped up and groaned in unison as something happened. He saw Beau skate behind the net, slam some guy into the boards, grab the puck, and then the crowd leaped up and cheered. A horn blared and the guy behind him rang a cowbell so enthusiastically Connor thought he might go deaf.

“Yay, Beau!” Micah screamed, jumping. Benji was just as excited, wildly waving his cardboard fan.

“Oh, y’all are Beau Hopper fans?” Nanette said, catching sight of the back of Benji’s T-shirt. “He’s new but we love him. How do you guys know him?”

The clock on the Jumbotron counted down to zero.

“He’s my brother’s boyfriend,” Benji said in the brief silence before rock music blared from the speakers.

Connor spluttered and tried to think of something, anything, he could say. “What? No. No. Beau and I aren’t…” His face burned.

“Well, then you’d better stop kissing him.” Benji made a few kissing noises. “Beau and Connor, sittin’ in a tree. K-I-s-s-I-n-g,” he sang.

Luckily, Benji and Micah were instantly distracted by the players heading off the ice. They ran to the end of the row to grab high fives from the men.

Fiona and Sean, however, had turned to stare at Connor. “What did Benji mean you were kissing?” Fiona asked. “Like, you were kissing Beau?”

Should he lie? He could say Benji hadn’t seen what he obviously had. Truthfully, he’d be happy to get it out in the open. This wasn’t how he’d ever imagined coming out to them, but Brent and his mom had been completely supportive when he came out to them. For pretty much the same reason, come to think of it. How embarrassing. You’d think he would have learned not to kiss boys in the backyard after the first time he’d gotten caught. He hoped they’d raised the younger kids not to be homophobic.

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that Nanette and Dee were standing there, not even pretending not to listen. “Yeah, I was.”

“When?” Fiona asked.

“You’re gay?” Sean asked at the same time. “What does it matter when?”

Fiona squealed. “Oh my God, so he really is your boyfriend, then?”

Abruptly, Sean stood and stormed down the row toward the stairs. Connor’s fingers twitched. God, he needed a cigarette. Surely now of all times it was an appropriate response. It wasn’t like he could quit cold turkey, anyway.

“You want us to watch them while you go after him?” Nanette asked.

“Would you?” He hated to leave the kids with strangers, but Micah and the women had bonded a little. What were the chances of kidnappers coming to see a hockey game? “Fee, you okay with that? Keep an eye on Micah and Benji.”

She saluted him. “You got it, Sergeant Bro. But I want details when you get back! All the details!”