Eli pulls away so abruptly he might have fallen ass-first on the ice, if he wasn't standing right next to the rink board.

For some reason, even though I know I probably shouldn't have tried to kiss him in the first place, his reaction still irritates me.

"We're literally the only ones here."

"That you know," he hisses, voice charged with more urgency than true aggressiveness. He looks around the vast, empty arena around us before saying, "Anyone could come in at any time."

"Would it be so bad if they did?"

He snorts, outraged. "Not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be." I shrug.

In just the span of a couple of minutes, Eli's whole body has stiffened. At this point, I know I really shouldn't prod, but I go ahead and do it anyway.

"Seriously. I get that Brunson isn't the type of town to throw pride parades, but don't you think you're possibly being a tad dramatic?"

Eli rolls his eyes, turning his back from me. Before he can skate away, I can still hear him mumble, "Of course you wouldn't fucking get it."

The tone and the implication of that gets under my skin. And maybe it shouldn't, I know — but it does. I start after him, catching up to him as he circles a hockey goal.

"Yeah, I really don't get it," I tell him. "Please. Explain it to me."

Eli doesn't answer, nor does he lift his eyes from the ice as he skims to the other side of the rink. I follow in tow.

"What are you so afraid of? Is it what your hockey pals will think? Public opinion around town?" A curt laugh escapes my lips in a breath. "Let me know if I'm getting warmer."

He turns around so quickly I nearly bump into him, chest to chest. "Everything's always a fucking game to you, isn't it?"

We are standing close enough that I can feel the heat off his body. "Better that than constantly worrying about what others might think," I reply a little more softly.

Everyone always has something to say about everything I do. And ten more thoughts they don't say out loud for each one that they do. If I lived my life the way Eli does, in constant alert and never-ending caution, I would not live at all.

"For you, maybe," Eli says with a shrug before skating past me, back the way we came.

I let out an audible groan before turning around to follow him yet again. "What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?"

"It means it's easy to give zero fucks, when your dad can just throw money at every little problem and buy your way into everything you want," Eli answers without turning his head to look at me. "Life doesn't work that way for the rest of us. Most people can't afford to not care, because what others think makes us."

That irks me in such a way that I stop dead in my tracks, letting him trace the curve around the goal before escaping back in the opposite direction. I don't even know where to start pointing out everything wrong with his thinking.

My dad does not just throw money at every one of my problems. That is not his way. In fact, quite recently, he took some financial freedom away from me. And the notion that everything I have, everything I worked for, has been bought with my father's money is an old one. And like most stale ancient things, it's starting to stink.

I turn around, speeding toward Eli as he circles around the other goal.

"The only one who can make you is yourself," I blurt.

As soon as it's out of my mouth, I wish I hadn't said it. I feel stupid as Eli looks up from the ice to raise his eyebrows at me.

That was something my dad often said to me and my sisters growing up. It is one of those little life lessons I carry in my head, where it makes sense as long as I don't think too much about it, but it feels incredibly dumb to say it out loud in front of somebody else.

"That's just not true," Eli states calmly. "It only feels like that to you, because you're already placed closer to the finish line than most people."

I know that is true, but still. It doesn't truly change anything. Does it?

"You think I don't work for what I have," I phrase it as a statement, but voice it sort of like a question. "I work my ass off," I declare. "Yes, maybe I am privileged enough to be able to focus on my goals without other difficulties getting in the way. But I'm an athlete, same as you. You can't win on the ice just by having a rich dad."

"You are an athlete, but not the same as me. Not even close," Eli argues, though his tone is just as even as before. "I'm not doubting you put in the hours and the effort, because I know you do. But it's just not the same. We live in two completely different worlds. And it's not even just about your family's money. Ice hockey and figure skating aren't the same.

"You can be a gay figure skater — or bi, or whatever the fuck you choose to go with — and still have a long career based only on how good you are on the ice. But a gay hockey player?" He lets out a curt breathless laugh, laced with a rueful kind of humorless tension. "That doesn't sound so right, does it?"

"There are tons of gay athletes these days," I say. But my tone isn't as sure anymore.

"Name one."

Well, shit, I'm not exactly a team sports guy, am I?

"Uh, what about that, uh... Jake, Jason, something, Collins. He's gay, right?" I try.

"NBA, not NHL," Eli says. "And he doesn't play anymore."

"What about, uhm — Michael Sam!" I smile contently. "I definitely heard my dad say that name before."

"He played football and he never made it that far after coming out," Eli tells me.

I roll my eyes impatiently. "What about... the really cute one? Robbie Roberts, or something."

"Robbie Rogers is a soccer player."

I huff. "There has to be a gay hockey player out there."

"Probably," Eli agrees. "But they're all closeted. And those that plan to come out won't do it until they've played a few good years already, possibly not until they know their careers are coming to an end. Because they know once they're out everything changes."

Eli purses his lips together, casting his eyes down to his feet. When he lifts them again to look into mine, there's an unfamiliar resolution there, lost in the greys and the hazels.

"I'm in high school. I want to get drafted by the NHL, and I can't have anything spoiling my odds. I can't risk becoming a symbol or a publicity stunt. No distractions. The focus needs to be on me and hockey, nothing else."

I frown, because as much sense as his words make, they are also the most ludicrous thing I have ever heard.

"What exactly are you saying then?" I ask. "Is your plan to finish high school, get drafted, play maybe ten good years in the NHL — if you're that lucky — all while waiting for retirement so you can finally be yourself?"

Eli shakes his head. "It's not that simple."

"How," I deride. "Please, once again, enlighten me, because I don't get it."

"I am myself," he says.

I shake my head. "No, you're not."

He moves closer to me and it takes me by surprise. For a second, I wonder if he even noticed he did it.

"I'm myself here, right now, with you," he affirms, before adding with slightly less determination, "Right?"

And that last part is so much softer that I can hear what he's really saying. I'm myself here, right now, with you... And I was myself that night at The Lodge as well. When he let go, when he gave up the control, when he let himself be a little vulnerable for once.

"And I'm myself when I'm on the ice too," Eli continues. "One doesn't cancel the other. I can be both, one just has to stay a secret."

I open my mouth to object, but no words come out. And then I can't remember what I had intended to say in the first place. Eli speaks in my turn.

"I can keep the secret if it means having a chance at a real career doing what I love. What I can't do is quit hockey."

"See, that's what I don't get," I protest. "How can you feel good doing what you love, if you're not free to be everything you want to be while doing it?"

"Because I'm not you," he replies. "Freedom isn't a given for me. It's a balance."

I can't say those words mean anything to me. Maybe Eli sees it in my face, because he explains.

"Even if you never succeed, even if no matter how fucking hard you try you never get that Olympic medal, you'll still have your family to fall back on," he says. "I only have hockey. If I don't make it to the NHL, I'll end up the rest of my life laying bricks for Dean's dad. Or unclogging toilets for Owen's. Or working for your dad, like my brother."

I bite down on my own lip. I don't like how much my dad is being brought up in this conversation. Somehow, he's always brought up.

"Hockey is my ticket out of Brunson. If I don't make it, I'm done," Eli says.

Done.

This is not a guy inviting you to convince him otherwise. This is something Eli's thought long and hard about. Suddenly, all the calculating discipline I've been picking up on makes a whole lot more sense. Like that final piece of the puzzle clicking in.

He's planned it all out in his head. He's thought about every set-back and obstacle in his way and devised a strategy to deal with it before it even happens. Eli's never been a confused jock repressing a sexuality he doesn't want to face. He knows exactly what he is and how that will get him closer or farther from achieving his goal.

And I think I might be a small set-back he hadn't considered until he had to decide really fast how to manage the situation. Secret encounters and fleeting moments, a chance to get some relief before putting on his mask to play for the big leagues — that's what I became to him.

I always say to myself that thinking things through often ruins everything. The best of life is usually in the unexpected.

My life, at least.

But Eli's life, I see now, couldn't be more different.

My life has always been a universe of possibilities. In the world my parents built for me, success is a direct product of hard work. Those who put in the effort, reap the results. There are no limits to my potential beyond those I impose myself.

That's what I was brought up to believe. That's how I learned to view the world.

And I truly thought I had made the stakes high for myself. Now, after hearing Eli talk, I can see that was nothing.

***

Well... You did ask for more interactions ;)

Liam is starting to understand what goes on in Eli's head a little more... What about you?

Next chapter will see the return of a few side character you already met, as well as some more evolutions in Liam and Eli's relationship. Anything you'd particularly like to see?

As always, thank you so much for reading and sharing your thoughts so far! If you liked this, please consider leaving a vote or a comment :)