Ice Hockey Reunion

“You heard me.”

A family squeezed past them, the youngest boy wearing Mason’s number. The kid glanced up, recognized them, and tugged at his father’s sleeve. Lucas watched the father steer him away. Mason watched, too, his eyes fixed on the departing jersey.

“We just won,” Lucas said. “You assisted the goal.”

“I know what happened.”

“You’re acting like I did something unforgivable.”

Mason’s laugh held no warmth. “You want the list?”

Lucas’s stomach tightened. “Not here.”

“Convenient.”

The concourse narrowed around them. Fans shouted from the escalators. Somewhere near the main entrance, a staff member dropped a tray, and plastic cups scattered across the floor. The ordinary mess of game night continued while Lucas stood in front of the man he loved, unable to find a way through him.

Mason finally faced him. “You said you’d tell Coach tonight.”

Lucas knew exactly what he meant. He had promised to tell their coach they were together, not because the coach needed to know who Lucas slept with, but because keeping Mason hidden had begun to feel like a second relationship - one made of locked doors and careful glances.

“I was going to.”

“You were going to,” Mason repeated. “After the season. After the trade deadline. After your contract was safe. After you found a version of your life where I didn’t cost you anything.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, Lucas. Fair would’ve been you standing beside me when I asked you to.”

Lucas reached for him, but Mason stepped back. The movement was small. It still felt like a shove.

“I panicked,” Lucas said.

“You always panic when it’s about me.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then tell me why I spent the last six months being your secret.”

Lucas glanced toward the locker-room doors. Anyone could come through them. A teammate. A reporter. One of the arena staff. The thought made his throat close.

Mason saw it.

“There,” he said softly. “That’s the answer.”

Lucas hated the way Mason’s voice changed when he was hurt. It lost all its sharpness and became careful, as if every word had to pass through a bruise.

“I love you,” Lucas said.

Mason’s eyes flickered. “Don’t use that like a fire extinguisher.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. Every time I ask for something real, you say you love me, and then you ask me to wait.”

Lucas looked down at his gloves. The leather was scuffed from the boards, the white tape around his wrists gray with sweat. He had wanted one more night - one night where they could leave the arena together, go back to the hotel, lock the door, and pretend the world had not reached them.

The desire felt suddenly selfish enough to choke on.

“I can tell him tomorrow,” Lucas said.

Mason’s mouth pulled tight. “You’ve been saying tomorrow since October.”

“I mean it now.”

“You mean it because I’m leaving.”

The words moved through the noise between them.

Lucas stepped closer. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Say it like you’ve already decided.”

Mason looked at him for a long moment. “I decided in the locker room.”

Lucas’s breath caught. “You’re breaking up with me?”

Mason’s gaze dropped to Lucas’s mouth and stayed there just long enough to be cruel. “I’m trying to stop breaking myself.”

The security guard near the locker-room entrance glanced over. Lucas lowered his voice. “You can’t do this in the middle of a hallway.”

“You wanted me to talk.”

“I want you to come with me.”

“To where?”

“Our room.”

Mason shook his head. “No.”

“Just let me explain.”

“You’ve explained. You’re scared. You need time. You love me. You’ll tell everyone when the timing is better.” His eyes shone, though his face stayed still. “I know all the lines.”

Lucas felt the crowd pressing against his back. The arena smelled of fryer oil and ice melt, and beneath it all lingered the clean, metallic scent of the rink. He had spent the game chasing Mason’s passes through that cold, trusting him to be where Lucas needed him. Now Mason stood three feet away, and Lucas couldn’t reach him.

“I don’t know how to lose you,” Lucas said.

Mason’s expression broke - not completely, but enough for Lucas to see the fear underneath his anger.

“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Then stay.”

Mason closed his eyes. “That’s not the same as choosing me.”

Lucas wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Mason that he had chosen him in every hotel room, every early-morning drive, every night they had fallen asleep tangled together with their knees touching beneath the sheets. But none of those choices had cost him anything in public. None had required him to stand still while people looked.

Mason opened his eyes. “You said you wanted one more night.”

Lucas hadn’t realized he had said it aloud. Maybe he had said it in the locker room. Maybe he had said it into Mason’s shoulder while Mason was pulling away.

“Yes.”

“One night doesn’t fix this.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t mean we’re okay.”

“I know.”

“And it doesn’t mean you get to call me tomorrow and start over.”

Lucas swallowed. “What does it mean?”

Mason looked past him toward the doors leading into the team corridor. “It means I’m not ready to leave you tonight.”

Hope rose before Lucas could stop it.

Mason saw that, too. “Don’t make that into something it isn’t.”

Lucas nodded quickly. “I won’t.”

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

For the first time, Mason almost smiled. It vanished before it reached his eyes.

They moved through the corridor without touching. Lucas showed his pass to the staff member at the door, and Mason followed him into the narrow service hall behind the concourse. The crowd noise dulled there, replaced by the hum of ventilation and the distant thud of music from the locker room. Mason led him past the equipment carts to a storage alcove beside the visiting showers.

The door clicked shut.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

Lucas could smell the ice on Mason’s skin, the sweat beneath his undershirt, the faint cedar scent of the soap they both used in hotel bathrooms. Mason leaned against the cinder-block wall, arms folded, while Lucas stood close enough to feel the heat coming off him.

“Tell me to leave,” Lucas said.

Mason’s eyes lifted. “Would you?”

“No.”

“Then don’t ask.”

Lucas’s hands curled at his sides. “I want to touch you.”

Mason’s breath shook once. “You can.”

The permission hurt almost as much as the refusal had.

Lucas stepped in and placed his palm against Mason’s cheek. Mason turned into it, just slightly, and Lucas nearly lost the careful distance they had built. He traced the red mark on Mason’s skin with his thumb.

“You took a puck there,” Lucas whispered.

“You noticed?”

“I notice everything.”

“Not when it matters.”

Lucas kissed him before he could answer.

Mason let him. His hands caught in the front of Lucas’s jacket, pulling him close with the same force he used on the ice. Their mouths met hard, familiar, angry. Lucas tasted salt and mint and the last of the victory champagne Mason had stolen from the locker room. Mason’s fingers slid beneath Lucas’s collar, finding the damp skin at his neck.

Lucas made a low sound and pressed closer.

Mason broke the kiss. “Slow down.”

Lucas stopped immediately. His forehead rested against Mason’s. “Sorry.”

“I didn’t say stop.”

The words moved through him, warm and dangerous.

Mason opened Lucas’s jacket, pushing it from his shoulders. The shoulder pads caught, and they both fumbled with them until Lucas laughed under his breath. Mason’s mouth softened at the sound, then he looked away.

“Don’t,” Lucas said.

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like that and then leave.”

Mason’s hands stilled.

Lucas regretted the plea the instant it escaped. He could feel it hanging between them, naked and humiliating.

Mason touched the side of his neck. “I’m not promising tomorrow.”

“Promise me tonight.”

Mason’s gaze held his. “Tonight, I’m here.”

It was not enough. Lucas nodded anyway.

Mason pulled him down into another kiss, slower this time. The alcove was too small, the concrete wall cold through Lucas’s shirt, but Mason’s body fit against his as if no time had passed since their last night together. Lucas slid his hands beneath Mason’s jersey, feeling the tight warmth of his back. Mason shivered and pressed his face into Lucas’s throat.

“Tell me you still want me,” Lucas said.

Mason’s mouth brushed his skin. “I still want you.”

The truth struck deeper than any reassurance.

Lucas closed his eyes. “And?”

Mason went still.

Lucas knew before Mason answered that he had asked for too much.

“And I’m still done,” Mason said.

The words were quiet. They did not lessen the heat between them. They made it unbearable.

Lucas’s hands fell away.

Mason caught one of them and held it against his chest. Beneath Lucas’s palm, his heartbeat moved fast and uneven.

“I can’t keep taking pieces of you,” Mason said. “Not when you won’t give me your whole life.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know.” Mason’s thumb passed over Lucas’s knuckles. “That’s what makes this worse.”

They stayed that way until the music in the locker room changed and someone shouted Lucas’s name down the corridor.

Mason released him first.

Lucas pulled his jacket back on, every movement clumsy. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the hotel with the team.”

“Can I come?”

Mason looked at him. “No.”

“Mason - ”

“If you come with me, I’ll let you hold me until morning. You’ll say something beautiful. I’ll believe you for six hours. Then we’ll wake up and I’ll still be waiting for you to become brave.”

Lucas felt the door behind him press cold against his shoulders.

“I can be brave,” he said.

“Not for me.”

Mason opened the door. The corridor’s harsh light cut across his face, making him look like someone Lucas had to learn all over again.

Lucas reached for him once more, not to stop him this time, only to touch his wrist.

Mason let him.

They stood in the doorway, fingers linked, surrounded by the muffled celebration of a win that suddenly felt like it belonged to another life.

“Goodbye, Lucas,” Mason said.

Lucas’s throat burned. “It’s not goodbye.”

Mason’s eyes filled, but his voice stayed steady. “It has to be.”

He kissed Lucas once - softly, with no anger left in it. Then he pulled away, slipped his hand free, and walked toward the locker room without looking back.

Lucas remained in the alcove until the door swung shut between them.

He had gotten one more night, except it was only a promise of one, and Mason had taken even that promise with him.

End of chapter one. 4 more chapters in the full book.