Hooking the Captain: A MM Hockey

Romance (Off the Bench Duet Book 1)

Kimberly Knight & Rachel Lyn Adams
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HOOKING THE CAPTAIN
OFF THE BENCH DUET
BOOK 1

KIMBERLY KNIGHT
RACHEL LYN ADAMS
 CONTENTS
Note from the Authors
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Connect With Us
Acknowledgments
Also By Kimberly Knight and Rachel Lyn Adams
Also By Kimberly Knight
Also By Rachel Lyn Adams
About Kimberly Knight
About Rachel Lyn Adams
No portion of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, places, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and storylines are
created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The subject matter is not appropriate for minors. Please note this novel contains profanity, explicit sexual
situations, and alcohol consumption.

HOOKING THE CAPTAIN

Copyright © 2024 Kimberly Knight and Rachel Lyn Adams
Published by Kimberly Knight and Rachel Lyn Adams
Cover art © Indie Sage

Cover Image Photographer © Wander Aguiar

All rights reserved.
 NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS

Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for picking up a copy of Hooking the Captain. Coop and Ford have taken us on a journey we didn’t see
coming. This book differs from what we usually write, but we had to follow their lead. Their story, just like real life, can be
messy at times and might break your heart. If you’re anything like us, you’ll probably want to yell at them several times while
reading.
This book deals with some heavy themes and has content that may be difficult for some readers. If you would like more
details, you can visit our website for a list of content warnings. Please be advised that these warnings could be considered
spoilers.
Hooking the Captain is book 1 in the Off the Bench duet, so most issues won’t be resolved until book 2, Retaking the
Shot.
So, tighten your skates, it’s time for the puck to drop!
Kimberly & Rachel
 1

FORD

MY PARENTS DRAGGED ME AWAY FROM CAMPUS FOR DINNER TO CELEBRATE THE MASSIVE COMMERCIAL REAL ESTATE DEAL MY
father had closed. While they discussed the details of Dad’s hard work, I tuned them out and thought about the night before
when my ex, Tyler, shot down my attempt at getting back together by kissing him in the hallway at the frat house.
We were seniors at Hawkins University and five months ago, I had made a huge mistake when I called things off between
us, and I’d been living with regret ever since.
For a short time after our breakup, I’d acted like a dick. It was a stupid attempt on my part to put distance between us, so I
could move on. And while I succeeded in pushing Tyler away, I was left miserable and missing him even when I tried hooking
up with other people. Eventually, I switched tactics and spent the last couple of months trying to get him to talk to me because I
felt there was still something between us.
“Are you okay, darling?” Mom placed a hand on my arm, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’ve been quiet all evening.”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just been busy with the last of my assignments before graduation.”
Dad smiled and lifted his glass. “It’s baffling how quickly time has gone by. It seems like just yesterday we were helping
you move into your dorm for freshman year. Now you’re almost done with school. We’re so proud of you and can’t wait to see
what you do next.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, even though on the inside, all I cared about was getting Tyler back.
I’d really fucked things up ...

T YLER AND I LAY IN HIS BED FACING EACH OTHER WITH OUR HEADS ON OUR HANDS LIKE WE HAD MOST NIGHTS FOR THE PAST
three months. I liked him a lot, but keeping our relationship on the down-low was getting harder and harder. Every time I
sneaked in or out of his room, I worried one of our fraternity brothers would catch me. While they all seemed cool with
Tyler and our president, Fallon, being gay, my past experiences had convinced me that it wasn’t always safe when people
found out about someone’s sexuality.
“Are you excited for your trip to San Diego?” I asked softly.
Tyler was traveling home to visit his family for the holidays, while I would be staying in Boston and celebrating with
my parents and grandparents.
“Definitely,” he replied. “I’m ready for a break and some California sunshine.”
“I can’t wait for a break, and I can’t believe we’re one semester away from graduation.”
“I know right? It seems so strange that we’re almost done.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “As long as I can pass all my classes. I was stupid and saved some of my hardest courses for this
term.”
“Same.” He chuckled. “Although my photojournalism class should be easy.”
“I’m jealous. I’d rather take photos than study econometrics.”
 “Speaking of taking photos.” He got out of his bed and walked to his desk where a professional looking camera sat. “I
bought this yesterday. I thought maybe we could have a little fun with it before I leave.”
A chill ran through my body. Tyler had no idea his idea triggered painful memories of someone taking pictures of me
without my knowledge and then using them to shame me. The room felt as though it was closing in and I needed to get out
as fast as possible.
“I’m not feeling very good.” I climbed out of the bed.
“What?” He looked at me with concern. “Why?”
“I don’t know, just sort of hit me.” That wasn’t really a lie.
“Do you need me to get you anything?”
I shook my head. “No, I think I just need to sleep it off.”
“Okay. Hopefully, we can hang out a bit before I leave tomorrow.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Yeah. Hopefully.”
Sitting in my room the next night, I scrolled through my contacts and pressed the call button on the number I’d only
ever texted. My heart started to race and my leg bounced up and down. Tyler had left for the airport a couple of hours
earlier, and I’d waited until the last minute before he boarded his flight to try to talk to him.
The phone rang a few times, and just when I thought I would have to leave him a message, he answered. “Hey, you
missing me already?” he teased.
Ignoring his question, I uttered the words I’d barely mustered up the courage to say, “I don’t think things are going to
work out between us.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” he clipped, low.
“I guess I am.”
“You guess?”
God, it was even harder than I’d thought it would be. “We want different things, Tyler. I told you I wasn’t sure I was
ready to announce to the world I was dating a guy⁠—”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
He was right; he hadn’t asked me to do that, but I couldn’t shake the memories that had resurfaced from high school
when I had been betrayed by my best friend.
“Things were supposed to just be a bit of fun,” I explained. “Then it became more serious than I wanted.”
“Ford—”
The sound of his voice saying my name was almost enough for me to second-guess my decision. “Look, I gotta go. The
guys and I are going out tonight before I leave tomorrow.” I hoped going on a ski trip with my family would help distract
me for a little while.
“Wait—”
I disconnected the call because I could feel my resolve cracking. The feelings I had for Tyler were strong, but the need
to protect myself from further trauma like I had endured in high school was even stronger.

THE SERVER APPROACHED OUR TABLE AND ASKED , “HAVE YOU DECIDED ON WHAT YOU’ D LIKE FOR DINNER?”
I ordered the steak frites and handed over the menu. After our waiter walked away, I tried to engage in conversation with
my parents, but I wasn’t feeling it. My eyes drifted to the front of the restaurant, and my breath hitched when I saw Tyler walk
in.
For a split second, my heart fluttered, and I wondered if fate had led him there, but then I saw he wasn’t alone.
He didn’t notice me as they walked through our section. When I got a better look at the other guy, my eyes widened. I knew
who he was, but I couldn’t think of any reason why they would be together outside of school.
Throughout my meal, I sneaked glances at my ex. Eventually, he stood and made his way to the men’s room.
“Excuse me,” I said to my parents and pushed back from the table.
My father’s words from earlier about how fast time moved replayed in my head, and I knew the window of opportunity to
convince Tyler he should be with me was quickly closing, so I decided to follow him.
When I reached the restroom door, I took a deep breath and then pushed it open. Tyler’s stare met mine through the mirror,
and he spun around.
“What are you doing here?” he clipped.
“I’m having dinner with my parents. Was that Professor Foster I saw you with?” I hooked my thumb in the direction of
where their table was located.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
My brow furrowed at his lack of response, but it suddenly all made sense. “Oh my god, that’s who you’ve been seeing,
isn’t it?”
“Ford—” He held up his hand, but I cut him off.
 “I can’t believe you’re fucking your professor.”
“Anything having to do with me is no longer your business,” he growled before storming out.
Tyler had told me he’d moved on, but seeing it with my own eyes was like a punch in the gut. Any hope I had of us getting
back together faded away as I stepped into the hallway and watched him make his way back to Professor Foster.

THE S IGMA EPSILON HOUSE WAS QUIET WHEN I WALKED INSIDE. I CLIMBED THE STAIRS AND STOPPED IN FRONT OF TYLER’ S
room. I finally understood why he spent most of his nights away, or at least I assumed the reason why.
He was with him.
With a heavy heart, I leaned against the door and lingered for a few seconds, feeling every emotion I had kept bottled up
over the past five months come flooding back. My fingers itched to grab the doorknob as memories of all the nights we had
spent together ran through my mind. The way he looked at me as though I was someone special when we were alone in his
room was something I hoped I never forgot, and the thought that we would never share that kind of connection again brought
tears to my eyes.
I let out a deep sigh and forced myself to go to my room, closing the door behind me. I undressed and left the clothes in a
pile on the floor before slipping into bed. Lying there for what felt like an eternity, I stared at the ceiling. I knew Tyler was mad
at me, but at one point, he’d cared about me just as much as I had for him, and I refused to believe we couldn’t have that again.
I felt a surge of anger course through me as I thought about Professor Foster and how it seemed he was the one standing in
the way of my happiness. If I reported him to Dean Watson, maybe the school would be forced to fire him. Sure, it would
destroy his career, but he’d ruined things for me first.
And I wanted revenge.

THE NEXT AFTERNOON , I WAS IN THE KITCHEN EATING A BOWL OF CHILI MAC WHEN I HEARD THE FRONT DOOR SLAM OPEN AND
bang against the wall. I was about to walk to the entryway to check what was going on, but heard Fallon holler, “What the
fuck?”
“Is Ford here?” Tyler growled.
I froze where I stood at the island, but I could still hear them talking.
“I don’t know. We walked home together, but I’ve been in my room since then,” Fallon replied.
A second later, Tyler rounded the corner and rushed toward me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he yelled, shoving me
backward. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”
Fallon immediately stepped between us and said to Tyler, “You need to calm down. I have no idea what’s going on, but you
know we have rules and don’t tolerate violence in this fraternity.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the rules.” Tyler lunged toward me again, but Fallon wouldn’t budge and kept a firm hold on his
shoulders.
“Why did you do it?” Tyler shouted.
“You know why,” I whispered.
“So, what? You thought reporting me to the dean would make me take you back? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”
Fallon spun around to face me. “What’s he talking about?”
“I didn’t report you to the dean,” I told Tyler, ignoring Fallon’s question.
“Bullshit!” he yelled once again.
“I promise I didn’t say anything about you,” I implored. “I only said I saw Professor Foster out with a student. I never
mentioned your name.”
There was no way I would have done anything to jeopardize Tyler’s academic standing at Hawkins. I only wanted his
teacher out of the picture.
Tyler threw his hands in the air. “It doesn’t matter. You fucked everything up.”
“Tyler, please⁠—”
“Stay the hell away from me. I want nothing to do with you,” he seethed and walked away from me once again.
“Wait here,” Fallon ordered and followed Tyler out of the room.
I dropped into the seat next to me and buried my head in my hands. I only had myself to blame for the shit show I found
myself in. If I’d never broken up with Tyler in the first place, then none of it would have happened, and I would be happy.
Instead, I was alone, and I wondered if I could ever live a life where my fears didn’t ruin everything.
A MONTH LATER, I STOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF CALDWELL THEATER WITH MY FAMILY AS THEY CONGRATULATED ME ON GRADUATING
from college. It should have been a happy time, but all I could think about was how in a matter of six months, I had fucked up
every good thing in my life.
Once Fallon got the full scoop on what I’d done to Tyler and Professor Foster, he kicked me out of the fraternity. I was
given the choice to leave quietly or have the members vote on whether or not I could stay. If I chose to plead my case to my
brothers, my being ousted was all but certain, and I would have had to tell them about my relationship with Tyler. Since that
wasn’t an option for me, I decided to walk away.
As I glanced around at my fellow graduates, my eyes stopped on my ex. A second later, I watched as Professor Foster
approached him. Since I hadn’t provided any proof when I went to the dean, he had been able to keep his job.
When he reached Tyler, Professor Foster shook his hand and said something I couldn’t make out. After a few words with
Tyler’s family, he waved and walked away. Tyler’s gaze followed him as he left. Even from a distance, I could see the longing
on Tyler’s face, and that was the final straw.
Standing in that theater, I knew I needed some time away from Boston to mend my broken heart and figure out my future.
And I knew just the place to do that.
 2

COOP

THE BEACH AT LAKE WINNIPESAUKEE WAS PACKED .

Five of the guys I played with on the Bruins and I had booked a four-bedroom cottage over Memorial Day weekend for a
little fun to celebrate the start of summer.
I threw a football around with Orlov and Nyström, while Butcher grilled beef short ribs for us and chatted with Friberg and
Sexton. Stepping back, I threw the ball to Orlov as he rushed down the shore to catch the pass. He caught it without a problem
and then tossed it to Nyström.
“I’m going to grab a beer. Do you two want one?” I called out to my friends. The late May sun had warmed my bare skin
and made me thirsty.
They both yelled they did, so I walked back toward our spot where the others were.
“Damn, Coop. I didn’t know you could throw a spiral like that,” Butcher praised as I neared. “You could play for the
Patriots with an arm like that.”
“Trying to get rid of me?” I teased.
He chuckled. “Nah, man. You’re the best center in the NHL.”
I glanced at Friberg, who also played center on the team. He shrugged and said in his Scandinavian accent, “He’s right.”
“I’ll take it, since I have 304 career goals.” I mocked brushing off my shoulder with a smirk and then reached into the
cooler, pulling out three bottles of beer.
“Yeah, yeah.” Sexton waved me off with a grin. “We were all there.”
I’d always been athletic, but hockey was my real passion. Dartmouth gave me a full ride scholarship so I played there for
two years before being drafted by the Bruins. This past season, I’d become team captain after the previous one was traded to
the Stars, and then I had hit a major milestone in my career.
Leaving them to the grilling, I turned toward where Orlov and Nyström were still passing the football back and forth. Out
of the corner of my eye, a guy caught my attention as he tossed a frisbee with his friends. He was tall with short brown hair, had
a toned athletic build with a hard chest and rippled abs. I couldn’t help but watch him, my mouth watering at how hot he was.
My hockey friends were the closest thing I had to brothers. We’d gotten close over the years, some more than others,
depending on how long we’d played together. We would go out after games, hang out at each other’s places, have
Friendsgiving every year, and take trips together to have a good time. However, my buddies didn’t know a major thing about
me:
That I was gay.
I’d never shared my secret with anyone except my friend Hayden. I’d only felt comfortable confessing my secret to him
because I knew he’d understand how I felt, and he wasn’t in my hockey circle of friends. Not only was Hayden gay, but he had
dated a friend and teammate of mine who had been in the closet. But before Jonah had been ready to come out to the team and
the world, he’d died in a car crash. I hadn’t wanted to go to my grave without at least one person knowing what I desired most,
and I remembered the relief that had come with telling Hayden.

I KEPT LOOKING AT THE ENTRY OF THE HIDDEN BAR IN THE BACK OF T HE WHISPERING FLASK, A SPEAKEASY - INSPIRED
restaurant, for Hayden. I’d invited him out because not only had we not hung out since Jonah’s death three years ago, but I
also needed to get something off my chest. The shitty thing was that I wasn’t alone. Butcher, Sexton, Orlov, and Nyström
had invited themselves along when I’d told them I was going out for a drink.
Once I spotted Hayden, I flagged him over to our table and stood to greet him with a handshake. “Glad you could make
it.”
“Me too,” he replied.
I made the introductions. “Guys, this is my good friend, Hayden. I’m sure you know Butcher, Sexton, Orlov, and
Nyström.”
“Of course.” Hayden shook their hands. “Got some good shots of your fight, Butcher.”
Butcher balked. “Shots?”
“Hayden works for The Hub,” I explained.
“You invited the press?” Orlov inquired in his Russian accent. His words might have sounded harsh, but his faint smile
made it clear he wasn't upset.
“Not here for work, but I was promised there would be drinking,” Hayden replied.
“Hell yeah,” I bellowed. “Let’s go to the bar.”
Hayden followed me and immediately the bartender came over despite the number of people bellied up to the bartop
because he was a fan. “What can I get you, Coop?” he asked.
“Another negroni and …” I looked at Hayden for his order.
“I’ll have the same. Thanks.”
“So, how have you been?” I squeezed his shoulder.
“Good, man. Working and teaching.”
My brow furrowed. “Teaching?”
The only job I knew he had was The Hub.
“I teach photojournalism at Hawkins University.”
“Oh wow, that’s cool.”
The bartender placed our drinks in front of us, and Hayden reached for his wallet.
“I got it,” I stated and then said to Mike, “Add them to my tab.”
The bartender nodded, and Hayden said, “Thanks. You didn’t need to do that.”
“Not a problem.”
We each took a sip of the herby cocktail and then Hayden asked, “What about you? I have to admit I haven’t been
keeping up with hockey as much since—” He took a breath and continued. “I’ve been covering basketball and baseball
instead.”
I gave him a tight smile because while Jonah’s death had been hard on me, I couldn’t imagine the pain Hayden had
gone through. “Things are good. Made captain this season when Umstatt was traded to the Stars.”
“I saw you sporting that C on your jersey last night. Congrats.”
“Thanks. So”—I rubbed the back of my neck nervously—“there’s something I need to pick your brain about.”
He cocked his head slightly. “Okay?”
I looked around, worried someone nearby would overhear. “Not here.”
“All right …?”
“You still don’t smoke?” It was a weird question and I knew it, but I wanted us to go outside and away from anyone who
could hear.
“What?” He blinked.
“Just go with it and follow me outside, okay?”
“All right.”
We downed our drinks in a hurry and then walked back to the table where my friends were. “Hayden needs a smoke.
We’ll be back.”
We made our way through the restaurant and into the chilly outdoors as snow fell from the sky.
“I’ll make this quick since it’s freezing out here.” I motioned for Hayden to move down the sidewalk away from the
door. “I didn’t think I’d do this tonight, but it’s been eating at me for a long time and I just …”
Fuck. Could I do it? Could I tell another person something I’d kept hidden for so long?
“Everything okay?” he asked.
I looked up at the inky sky. “I’ve never told anyone this.”
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you, man.”
 I took a deep breath and then met his stare. “I’m gay.”
“Oh.” His eyes widened.
“I’m sorry to just blurt it out like⁠—”
Without another word, he engulfed me in a powerful hug, and I relaxed against him.
“It’s okay.” He still held me in his arms.
Once we pulled apart, I blew out a breath as the weight lifted. “I think I just needed to tell someone.”
“I’m here for you anytime you need to talk or if there’s anything you need from me.”
“Thank you. As I get closer to the end of my career, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future and how I’d like to settle
down some day. It’s been consuming my thoughts and affecting my game. I figured you were a good person to come to since
you witnessed how Jonah struggled with everything.”
“I understand, and you call me anytime you need to talk.”
“I will.”
“Let’s get out of the freezing cold.” I shivered.

AS I WATCHED THE ATTRACTIVE STRANGER, I WANTED TO APPROACH HIM, TO INTRODUCE MYSELF , TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THE
guy who had drawn my attention, but the fear of my friends and the world discovering my truth held me back.
So, instead, I observed the guy from a distance as I continued to play catch with my buds, all while wishing I could ask the
guy to join us, but knowing it was another opportunity I had to let slip away. What if he were gay and would keep my secret?
Or what if he was straight and outed me to everyone? Why couldn’t I talk to him and invite him and his friends to play football?
What was wrong with me? It wasn’t like I wasn’t around guys all day long on the ice and in the locker room.
The hours passed, and I tried to gather the courage to approach him, to start a conversation, but the fear of exposure
weighed heavily on my shoulders, and I never made a move.
Instead, my friends and I went back to the rental cottage, and the hot guy was forgotten.
Like all the others.

THE FOLLOWING F RIDAY, I WAS AT MY FOLKS ’ HOUSE WHERE I GREW UP IN HARTFORD , VERMONT . WITH A GRUELING EIGHT OR
nine month season, I always tried to spend a few weeks in the off-season with my parents. It was also a time for me to visit
some high school friends, so as soon as my parents called it a night, I sent a text to my friend, JP, who had been my best friend
since third grade.
Hey! What are you up to?
Just got the kids down. What’s up?
Will Chrissy let you out tonight?
You’re home?
Yeah
Let me see. She wanted to watch a movie but I’ll ask

I had to admire my friend for asking his wife instead of telling her he was going out. In the past, she’d understood I wasn’t
home except for a few weeks out of the year and never had a problem with him meeting me to catch up.
A few minutes later, he texted back:
It’s a go. Meet at the Thirsty Cow?
Yeah. I’ll be there in 30

I quickly showered and changed into a short-sleeved light blue shirt and jeans. Once in my truck, I drove to the bar and cut
the engine. Scanning the small parking lot, I didn’t see JP’s SUV, so I decided to go inside and wait for him.
Hellos rang out as I walked into the dive bar, which was cast in a pink neon glow. I was used to people knowing who I was
in the Boston area and in Hartford. Not only did the locals know me as a local and an NHL player, but I had helped the Big
Green win the NCAA championship the two years I’d played for Dartmouth just down the road in Hanover, New Hampshire.
“Hey, Coop,” Harvey, the 50-something owner, greeted me as I stepped up to the bar. “Beer?”
“Please.” I took a seat. “How’ve you been?”
He grabbed a pint glass and filled it with the wheat-colored beverage. “Can’t complain. You had a good season.”
“I did.” I nodded.
“It has to be the C on your jersey.” As he placed the glass in front of me, a grin tugged at his lips.
 Lifting the glass, I chuckled around the rim. “Yeah, maybe that’s it.”
I glanced to the side as someone took the open seat next to me. My breath hitched as I took in his handsome face and then I
gave him a tight smile. I was about to tell him the seat was taken, but I was distracted by my phone buzzing in my pocket. I
pulled it out to see that it was JP.
“Hey,” I answered the call.
“Damn, Coop. I had to turn around.”
I stood from the stool and headed toward the door so I could hear him better. “Everything okay?”
“I was on my way, but Chrissy called because Trevor woke up screaming and crying. He has a high fever⁠—”
“Oh wow. Yeah. Go take care of your family.”
“Sorry. I wanted to come.”
“Hey, no. I get it. Totally cool. Maybe we can meet up tomorrow or whenever Trev gets better.”
“Thanks, bro. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be. Hit me up later and let me know how the little man is.”
“Will do.”
After we said our goodbyes, I slid the phone back into my pocket and headed into the bar. I had planned to pay for my beer
and tell Harvey goodnight, but the guy who had sat next to me turned his head toward me and, in a split-second, I decided I
wasn’t going to run. His dark hair was perfectly disheveled, and the way the neon lights caught the stubble on his jawline made
my heart skip a beat. We weren’t in a gay bar, so talking to a stranger wouldn’t likely garner any attention, which would help
alleviate the fear that popped up every time I wanted to talk to someone.
“Everything good?” Harvey asked as I took a seat again.
“Yeah. JP just can’t make it now. Kid is sick.”
“Kids are nothing but germs. That’s why I never had any.”
I chuckled and took a sip of my beer. “Maybe you have some you don’t know about.”
Harvey roared with laughter. “That’s a possibility.”
Someone at the other end of the bar waved him over and he left. I chugged another gulp of liquid courage, took a deep
breath, and then turned my head toward the guy next to me. He was watching the baseball game on the TV mounted on the wall
at the end of the bar.
“Red Sox’s fan?” I asked.
He twisted his head to look at me. “I am. You?”
“Yep.” I had to break the ice somehow but I really didn’t want to talk about sports in case the conversation turned to
hockey. I attempted to change the subject, however, as the words left my mouth, I regretted how lame my question sounded. “Do
you come here often?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not from here.”
“Oh?” I raised a brow. “In town visiting?”
“You can say that. You?”
I nodded and took another sip of beer. “In town for a few weeks.”
“Where do you call home?”
I swallowed. “Boston.”
“Ah. What brings you here?”
“Visiting family.”
“Me too.” He took a drink of his beer.
He gave no sign he knew who I was. Maybe he didn’t follow hockey and I for damn sure wasn’t going to bring it up. Since
he didn’t seem to recognize me, I stuck out my hand. “Coop.”
He grasped it. “Ford.”
“Nice to meet you, Ford,” I said. “So, how’s your visit been treating you so far?”
He took a moment to contemplate the question. “It’s been okay. Hartford’s a cool town, and the people are friendly.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s a pretty tight-knit community around here. Everyone knows each other.”
He chuckled. “I’ve noticed that, and feel a bit like an outsider, but people have been welcoming.”
I took another sip of my beer, feeling a little more at ease with him. “Well, how about we play a game of pool? It’s what I
always do when I come here.”
His eyes lit up with interest. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t played in a while, though, so you might have to go easy on me.”
I laughed. “No worries. It’s all in good fun.” I signaled to Harvey, and he sauntered over. “Hey, can we get a rack of
balls?”
“Sure thing, Coop.” He reached under the bar top and pulled out the tray. “Enjoy your game, fellas, and I’ll bring over two
fresh beers.”
“Thanks,” I replied and grabbed the tray of balls, then led the way to the pool table. We both picked out pool cues and used
the blue chalk on the tips. Once our sticks were ready, I racked the balls and set them in position over the dot on the green felt.
“You any good?” Ford asked.
“Well, I’ve played a bit, but I’m no expert. Want to break?”
“Nah.” He waved me off. “Your idea, so you can do the honors.”
I leaned forward and lined up the cue ball, taking a moment to try to focus, although I couldn’t help but be aware of Ford’s
presence next to me. With a smooth motion, I pulled my stick back and then sent the cue ball crashing into the racked balls.
They scattered across the table, and a striped ball found its way into a side pocket.
Ford nodded with a grin. “Not bad.”
I returned his smile, feeling even more comfortable. “Maybe I’m not as rusty as I thought.”
“Guess not.” He snorted.
I missed my next shot, and then it was his turn. He leaned over the pool table, and I found myself admiring the view as his
jeans hugged his ass. I averted my gaze and took a sip of a fresh beer Harvey had brought us, but then turned back to Ford and
watched as he pulled his stick back and took his shot. He sank the four into the side pocket.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re a pool shark?” I chuckled.
Ford laughed. “I used to play a lot in college, but it’s been a few months.”
I quickly did the math and wondered if that meant he was twenty-two. He was five years younger than me, if that were the
case.
“A few months? Did you just graduate?”
He nodded and lined up another shot. “I did.”
“Nice. What college—” My question was cut off when the entire bar erupted in cheers. I glanced at the TV in the corner
and saw that someone on the Red Sox had hit a grand slam.
Ford missed his shot, and I moved in for mine, only to miss too. During his next turn, I kept my stare on him. Right before
he hit the cue ball, he looked up and met my gaze from across the table, his blue eyes holding mine as he pulled his stick back
without looking. I licked my lips, but then quickly cleared my throat, suddenly feeling a bit flustered.
He missed the shot and I had to wonder if he was affected by me licking my lips or maybe it was because he didn’t take his
eyes off of me as he hit the ball. Was that him being cocky or was he into me?
I focused on the game, taking my shot and sinking the ten-ball. “I was expecting you to run the table.”
Ford shrugged, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe I’m just warming up.”
And I quickly learned that was true because, for the next several minutes, he didn’t take it easy on me. Before I realized it,
he was lining up to hit the eight-ball.
“Guess it’s good we didn’t bet money on this.” I snorted a laugh.
“I’m not sure money is what I would have bet, anyway.” He winked, called his shot, and then sank the eight-ball with a
triumphant smile. “Looks like I won.”
I chuckled as I leaned my hip on the pool table. “You got me. Good game.”
He stepped closer, the distance between us suddenly feeling charged with electricity. “Thanks for the game, Coop. I had a
great time.”
“Me too,” I replied, my voice huskier than I intended.
Ford’s gaze lingered on mine as he took another step closer, leaving nowhere for me to go but to press into the table. “I’d
love to see more of the area. Maybe you could show me around sometime.”
My eyes moved to his lips and then back up to his stare. Was he flirting with me? He had no way to know I was gay, and
while I would have normally tried to get out of the awkward situation for fear someone would find out, I didn’t see any harm in
saying, “I’d like that, Ford.”
Could he be the first guy for me to kiss? To fool around with? Maybe more?
“Can I give you my number?” he asked.
I nodded and handed him my phone. He took it before taking a step back, and then put his number in before giving it back.
“Do you hike?” I inquired.
He tilted his head to the side slightly. “Hike?”
“Yeah. You said you wanted to see more of the area and other than touring Dartmouth—which, I can do that too—I figured
we could hike Moose Mountain.”
It would also be a way to hang out without raising suspicion, which would make me feel a little more comfortable until I
figured out what was happening between us.
“Yeah, hiking sounds good.”
“Great.” I moved away from the table. “I’ll text you in the morning.”
We gathered the balls and put them back on the tray, and then I gave them back to Harvey.
“Catch you later,” I called out to the bartender and placed cash on the bar top to pay for my beers.
“See ya, Coop,” Harvey said back.
 Ford put some money down too and then we headed toward the front of the bar and walked out the door. I was back to
feeling awkward. We had made plans to meet up, but what did we do now? It wasn’t like hiking meant we were going on a
date. Maybe he thought it was just two bros working out.
“Walk me to my car?” he asked, and my eyes flicked to his.
“I … ah … yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck.
We walked across the small parking lot to his red BMW. “I want you to know that the last few months have been shitty for
me, but I had fun tonight.”
“I had fun too,” I admitted, but didn’t press him about his last few months since I didn’t know him.
“And I’m getting the impression this isn’t something you normally do.”
I shook my head, looking down at the asphalt beneath my feet, and not asking what this was because I knew by his tone.
“I know we just met, but I have to tell you I know exactly how you feel.”
My head snapped up. “You do?”
“Conversation for another time.” He gave a tight smile.
I nodded. “Okay.”
“But Coop?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to kiss you.”
We stared at each other, and then I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was hanging out in the parking lot. Could
I do it? Let a guy I just met be my first kiss? Potentially have someone I knew see me? But I wanted it. I was tired of letting
opportunities slip by.
The parking lot was dark enough that I felt comfortable whispering, “Okay.”
He grabbed my hand and led me to the other side of the car and away from the direct view of the bar. The streetlights were
less prominent, and before I realized it, Ford backed me up against the side of his BMW.
At that moment, time seemed to slow down. His hand gently cupped my cheek as he leaned in and brushed his lips against
mine. They were soft and warm, and the kiss was tentative at first, but as the seconds passed, our lips melded together in a
slow, passionate dance.
His touch was electrifying, sending shivers down my spine, and my heart raced in my chest. I wrapped my arms around
him, pulling him closer. His fingers tangled in my hair, his kiss deepened, and he became more confident.
The world faded away, and all that existed was our lips moving against the other. I’d never imagined my first kiss would be
like this: filled with desire, understanding, and a shared sense of vulnerability.
When we finally pulled apart, our panting breaths mingled in the crisp summer night air.
“Wow,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
“Yeah,” I replied, my speech equally soft and my heart still racing.
We stood there for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say next.
“Text me tomorrow?” Ford finally asked, his thumb gently brushing my cheek.
I nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I will.”
With one last lingering look, he pressed another soft kiss to my lips before pulling away. He opened the car door but
hesitated, his gaze never leaving mine. Then, he winked and got into his car. I stood there as he drove away, my heart racing
and my mind buzzing with the possibilities of what the future might hold. I’d broken the ice with a guy, which led to a kiss that
left me feeling as though maybe I could do it again.
As I walked to my truck, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. Whatever was happening between
Ford and me, I was ready to explore it, to see where the unexpected connection might lead. And as I drove to my parents’
place, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face, knowing I had finally taken a chance.
 3

FORD

THE SOUND OF A NOTIFICATION ON MY PHONE WOKE ME, AND I RUBBED MY EYES BEFORE REACHING OVER TO GRAB IT , SEEING
that it was a text message.
Hey! It’s Coop. I realized I didn’t give you my number last night. Are you still up for hiking today?

A smile spread across my face as I thought about the night before. I’d gone to the Thirsty Cow for a drink, hoping to catch
the Red Sox game, and ended up hanging out with the Emmett Cooper. I felt a little bad for not telling him I knew who he was.
I’d actually recognized him from when he had participated in a charity event for my fraternity a couple of months earlier, but
something about the way he’d introduced himself told me he would rather be treated like a regular guy rather than a famous
hockey player. That was fine by me because explaining how I knew him would likely lead to a conversation about things that
included Tyler, and I wanted to avoid the topic of my ex.
Absolutely. What time are you thinking?
Does 11 work?

I checked the time and saw it was just after eight. Why was he up so early?
Sure
Great. I’ll send you the address of where we should meet

A few seconds later, a map with a pin location came through.

Got it. See you soon

Climbing out of bed, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. The smell of coffee and sausage
filled my nose as I stepped into the hall, causing my stomach to growl.
It had been a couple of weeks since I had left Boston, and I was finding the small town of Hartford, Vermont, to be the
perfect place to mend my broken heart and get away from everything having to do with my ex and the mess I’d made.
After I finished with my shower and was dressed, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen, where my grandmother stood
at the stove while my grandfather sat at the small table drinking a cup of coffee.
“Good morning,” I greeted them as I rushed over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup.
“Good morning, honey. Breakfast will be ready in a minute,” Grandma advised.
As I took a sip of my coffee, I let out an appreciative moan for the much-needed caffeine boost.
Grandpa chuckled. “Late night?”
“I was home before midnight. But I could hear you snoring when I came in, so I guess you could say it was late,” I teased as
I passed him and squeezed his shoulder.
“Stop giving your grandpa a hard time.” Grandma swatted playfully at me with her spatula.
She turned back to the eggs cooking in a pan, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Can I help
you with anything?”
“Nope.” She turned off the burner. “Just grab a plate.”
I did as I was told and piled it high with scrambled eggs, sausage, and fried potatoes.
“What’s on your agenda today?” Grandpa asked after Grandma set a plate of food in front of him.
“I think I might go for a hike on Moose Mountain.”
“By yourself?” Grandma inquired.
“Actually, I ended up playing pool with someone last night and they mentioned going on a hike. It sounded like fun.” That
wasn’t a total lie. I may have been the one to ask Coop to show me around, but he did bring up hiking. “Unless you need my
help around here.”
“Oh, no,” she replied. “You should go have fun.”
Some time with Coop was definitely the kind of fun I was looking forward to.

AN HOUR LATER , I PARKED ALONGSIDE THE ROAD NEAR THE TRAILHEAD AND SAW COOP STANDING NEXT TO A F ORD F-150.
“Nice ride. You got a thing for Fords?” I teased as I stepped beside him.
Coop barked out a laugh. “Maybe. But this one”—he dragged his hand along the side of the vehicle—“is my baby.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Baby, huh?”
He grinned, and I felt my stomach do a little flip. “Yeah, unfortunately, it’s not fun driving around in the busy city. I get to
take her off-roading while I’m here.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“Ready to do this?” he asked, hooking a thumb toward the entrance to the trail.
While I worked out regularly, I’d looked up the details for the trail and was concerned about keeping up with a
professional athlete on the almost two-and-a-half-mile hike. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Coop chuckled and started walking, his long legs eating up the ground quickly. “Come on, slowpoke,” he teased, but it
urged me to pick up the pace until I was right next to him.
As we hiked, I admired the views—the pine trees lining the trail, the jagged rocks on the side of the mountain, the way
Coop’s ass filled out his black athletic shorts. He really was a gorgeous guy with thick dark brown hair, piercing dark brown
eyes, and a neatly trimmed beard. He was a couple inches taller than my five feet, eleven inches—something I had enjoyed
during our kiss the night before.
Our kiss.
Staying in Vermont was supposed to give me time to mend my broken heart, not go in search of someone new. Except that
was the thing: I hadn’t been searching. But after playing pool with Coop and noticing those stolen glances from him, I’d found
myself making the first move and admitting that I wanted to kiss him.
“You doing okay back there?” He looked back at me over his shoulder.
“Yep,” I grunted, hoping he couldn’t tell I was out of breath.
“Here.” He stopped and handed me a bottle of water.
“Thanks.” I twisted off the cap and took a swig.
“I’m guessing you don’t hike a lot?” He grinned.
“You caught me. Not all of us share the athletic abilities you seem to possess.”
He narrowed his eyes, and for a split second I worried I had messed up by revealing that I knew who he was. Instead, he
took a drink from his bottle and replied, “We could have done something else.”
I shrugged. “Hiking sounded like fun.”
“Well, we’re almost to the top.”
A few minutes later, we reached the summit and paused to take in the view. I looked over the wide expanse of the area
below us, and the bright blue sky filled with puffy white clouds above.
“Wow, this view is awesome. Do you hike here a lot when you’re in town?”
He shook his head. “No. I haven’t been up here since college.”
“When was that?”
“I left Dartmouth after my second year, so eight years ago.”
That would most likely put him around twenty-seven or twenty-eight. I’d never dated an older guy before. Not that Coop
and I were dating, but I wasn’t opposed to the idea of getting to know him better.
“Well, this place is really cool, I’m glad you suggested it last night.”
 He smiled. “Me too.”
We stared at each other for a few moments, and I was tempted to lean in and kiss him again, but as I tried to muster up the
courage to make a move, a group of hikers came into view. He took a step back and cleared his throat. Trusting others didn’t
come easy for me, but since it appeared neither of us were ready to share our true selves with the world—me as bi and him
however he identified—I didn’t feel a need to be on guard around him.
“Ready to head down?”
“Yeah. Let me get some pictures first.” I took a couple photos with my phone, and then we turned and walked down the
mountain.
As we passed the group who had interrupted our moment earlier, I heard one of them whisper, “That looks a lot like
Emmett Cooper.”
Coop’s back straightened, and then he quickened his pace. I rushed to keep up with him again.
Once we reached the parking area, we stopped next to his truck. I was a sweaty mess and trying not to drop to the ground in
pure exhaustion, but my fatigue was quickly forgotten when he pulled his shirt off and grabbed a clean one from his backseat. I
watched in fascination.
When I finally moved my gaze from his rock-hard abs back to his face, he raised a questioning brow.
“What? Did you think I wouldn’t look?” I winked.
“Uh.” He looked at the ground. “I guess I didn’t think about it.”
Maybe that was true. He was probably used to changing in front of his teammates and didn’t think switching out his shirt
would draw my attention.
“Well, I enjoyed the view.” I waggled my eyebrows. “Nice tattoo by the way.”
He chuckled as he glanced down toward the left side of his chest at the large black and gray tattoo of a cross and rose.
“Thanks.” He slipped his clean shirt down and then paused before giving me a grin. “I had a good time today.”
“Me too.” It had been the best day I’d had in a long time, and I found myself wanting to hang out some more. “I’m in
desperate need of a shower, but would you maybe want to grab dinner tonight?”
He looked around, and I braced myself for rejection.
“Look, everyone around here knows me, but they don’t know I’m⁠—”
I held up my hand. “No need to explain. Trust me, I get it. Thanks for the hike. I had a good time.” Spinning around, I took a
step toward my car, my face heating with embarrassment.
“Ford, hold on.”
I turned back and waited for him to speak.
“Maybe we could go for a drive or something instead.”
I smiled warmly. “I’d like that.”

LATER THAT EVENING , I PULLED INTO THE PARKING LOT OF THE THIRSTY COW AND STOPPED NEXT TO COOP ’ S TRUCK. HE’ D
texted and suggested we meet somewhere rather than me picking him up at his parents’ house or him picking me up. Having
spent my last relationship in hiding, and still not ready to be out, I could relate to his need to be secretive.
After getting out of his truck, he climbed into my car. “Hey.”
“Hey. So, where are we going?”
“Take a right out of the parking lot and then turn left at the stop sign. There’s a secluded area near the Connecticut River that
I thought might be a nice place for us to talk without any … ah, distractions.”
I grinned as I glanced over at him. “Sounds perfect.”
Eventually, we pulled into a small, wooded area overlooking the water. The sun was just starting to set, casting a soft pink
hue in the sky. No one else was around, so we rolled down the windows to enjoy the cool evening breeze. I shut off the car and
took off my seat belt and turned to face him. He did the same. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he was the first to
speak.
“You mentioned you were visiting family here?”
I nodded. “Yeah, my grandparents recently moved to Hartford after my grandfather retired.”
“From where?”
“We’re all from Boston too, actually.”
“Oh wow. Small world. How long are you in town for?” he asked.
“A few weeks at least. Thought I would spend some time with them before settling down with a job. Don’t know how much
time I’ll have to visit them once I’m working.”
“What kind of job are you looking for?”
“I have a degree in marketing, so something in that field. A friend of mine actually just called me with a possible job lead,
and I’m hoping to hear about an interview when the position opens in a few weeks.”
“That’s cool. You mentioned college last night. Did you just graduate?”
“I did.”
“Where’d you go to school?”
It was the question I’d been dreading since we met. If I answered, it would likely lead to him mentioning the charity event
he’d attended at Hawkins, and I worried he might be upset that I hadn’t said anything earlier.
“Hawkins University.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
I nodded.
“Do you happen to know Professor Hayden Foster? He’s a friend of mine.”
While I’d recognized Coop from the charity event where Professor Foster had been the photographer, I had no idea the two
of them were friends. That information only further complicated things. Or at least it would if he ever found out what I wasn’t
telling him.
Not wanting to risk Coop hating me for what I’d done to the professor, I nodded again and answered him as truthfully as I
could without giving too much away.
“I wasn’t in his class, but he was the photographer at my fraternity’s charity event.”
“The softball game?”
I nodded.
“I was there too.” He grinned.
“Yeah, I know.” I cringed. “I recognized you last night.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You did? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
I shrugged and stared out the windshield, not able to meet his stare. “I don’t know. Like I said at the bar, the last few months
have been shitty, and stuff that happened at school was a big part of it.”
“That sounds really tough. What happened?”
I shook my head. “Nothing that I’m proud of.”
“That’s pretty vague.”
“I know. I promise I’m not trying to be an ass by not telling you; it’s just some shit I need to deal with eventually.” Not only
was I dealing with my own hurt and guilt over what happened between Tyler and me, but I also felt guilty for not telling Coop
in fear I would ruin things between us before we even had a chance to see where they might lead.
He reached over and placed his hand on top of mine. “I don’t think you’re being an ass. We all have stuff we need to handle
in our own way.”
“Are you mad I didn’t say anything last night?”
He smiled. “Nah. Maybe I should be, but I kind of enjoyed being Coop, the guy you met at the bar, rather than Emmett
Cooper, the hockey player.”
“I like Coop, the guy I met at the bar.”
As we stared at each other, the atmosphere changed, and we began inching closer together. His hand was still on mine, so I
laced my fingers with his and pulled him toward me. My lips pressed against his, and the soft touch sent tingles down my spine.
He slowly wrapped his free hand around the back of my head and deepened the kiss. Our tongues tangled together, and I
moved my hands to his waist. He sucked in a breath and I pulled back a bit.
“Is this okay?” I asked, my fingers trailing toward the button of his jeans. The heat between us was palpable, but I didn’t
want to keep going if he wasn’t as into it as I was.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “I just …”
“What?” I prompted when he didn’t continue after several seconds.
“Nothing. You can keep going.” He smiled warmly.
I leaned over and kissed him again before moving down to his neck, trailing my lips along the curve of his jaw.
“Recline your seat,” I instructed, so I would have more room to maneuver.
He followed my directions, and his breathing quickened as I pushed his shirt up and ran the tip of my tongue along the
ridges of his six-pack. I moved back to his pants, working the zipper to free his dick. He was long and thick, and my mouth
watered in anticipation of getting to taste him.
With my hand wrapped around his silky-smooth shaft, I shifted closer to take him into my mouth. His hips bucked slightly,
and he let out a groan. He tangled his fingers in my hair, and when I glanced up at him, his eyes were closed.
“Your mouth feels so damn good,” he panted.
His words spurred me on, and I took him as deep as possible. When he hit the back of my throat, his entire body tensed.
“I’m going to come,” he groaned.
“Good,” I mumbled around him, and then hollowed my cheeks to suck harder, pushing him closer to exploding.
It only took a few seconds for his body to shudder, and a growl escaped his throat as he let go and came in my mouth. I kept
sucking until I swallowed every last drop, and then I licked him clean.
Moving back to my side of the car, I glanced toward Coop. Instead of looking in my direction, he stared out the side
window and then said, “We need to talk.”
 4

COOP

I NEVER THOUGHT MY FIRST SEXUAL EXPERIENCE WOULD BE IN A CAR NEXT TO A RIVER, BUT THERE I WAS , THE WINDOWS DOWN
in Ford’s BMW with no one around and him sucking my dick.
And holy shit, it felt amazing.
For so long, I’d denied myself in fear the league and my teammates would find out and no team would want me. My career
would die, and I wasn’t sure what I would do with my life because it had revolved around hockey since I could walk.
It sucked that we lived in a world where people cared so much about someone’s sexuality, especially when it didn’t
involve them directly. Being gay didn’t affect my game, but some people would assume I was looking at them in the locker
room as they changed, or because I was into guys, I would throw myself at every teammate because they were male.
It was honestly bullshit, and I hated living in the closet.
But I had to.
With Ford, I thought I could spend time with someone who didn’t know who I was and then either have a fling while he
was in town or eventually tell him about my situation. I wanted just to be myself and not the celebrity version who had to worry
about the guy running to the media and outing me. Of course, I didn’t know if he would tell or not, but it had always been a fear
of mine.
While we sat in Ford’s car, conflicting thoughts ran through my head. Should I stop whatever was happening between us
and forget we ever met all because he knew who I was? Should I put things on hold and tell him I needed my lawyer to put
together an NDA for him to sign like Hayden had suggested as an option? Or should I enjoy the moment?
Despite the risk, I’d decided to enjoy the moment because I wanted it so badly. I had desired to know what it would feel
like to have his hot mouth wrapped around me, and since no one was nearby, I let him. I didn’t regret it one bit, but I knew if
we were to continue, I would need to cover my ass.
“Talk?” Ford questioned.
I took a deep breath. “Things are different now that you know who I am.”
“What do you mean?”
I turned to him and gave him a tight smile. “I thought because you just knew me as Coop, that we could get to know each
other and then I don’t know…” I shrugged. “You’d like me so much that when you found out I was a professional hockey
player, it wouldn’t cross your mind to run to the media and out me.”
His dark blue eyes widened. “I’m not going to run to the media.”
I shook my head. “No, I mean, that’s my fear and one I’ve been dealing with practically my entire life.”
“So, you don’t trust me?”
“I don’t really know you.”
“Right.” Ford turned his head away and looked out at the woods.
“Hey.” I reached over and grabbed his hand. “This is all new for me. It might come as a shock, but with the stupid bullshit
opinions some people have about gay players in sports, I’ve hidden it from everyone. You have to understand.”
“I do understand,” he mumbled, still not looking at me. “I’m not out either.”
“Oh, wow,” I breathed. I had no idea. He seemed so confident while we were making out in the parking lot at the Thirsty
Cow and when he’d invited me to dinner.
“Yeah, so, I know how you feel.”
“Then let me draft an NDA and you can⁠—”
He whipped his head in my direction. “An NDA?”
I nodded and removed my hand from his. “Yeah, a non-disclosure agreement to make me feel better. Unless you just want to
call off whatever we’re doing…”
“No.” He shook his head. “And this is partially why I didn’t want you to know I knew who you were. I don’t care that
you’re a professional hockey player. I’m attracted to you, Coop. Not Emmett Cooper, the guy who plays for the Bruins.”
My heart did a little dance in my chest, but I still couldn’t risk it. “I appreciate that, and I’m obviously attracted to you too,
but I still need you to sign one for my own peace of mind.”
Ford thought for a moment and then said, “Okay. I can do that.”
“Thank you.” I reached over and cupped his cheek. For the first time in my life, I kissed a guy as my lips brushed his.
“Trust me. This isn’t ideal for me either.”
“I get it.”
“Thank you,” I said again. “I’ll get one drawn up and then maybe over dinner tomorrow you can sign it?”
He raised a brow. “Dinner? I thought you said⁠—”
I smiled widely. “I have an idea.”

THE NEXT DAY, I RESEARCHED NDAS AND THEN CONTACTED MY ATTORNEY WHO SENT ONE OVER RIGHT AWAY, LEAVING A BLANK
space for Ford to fill out his information since I didn’t know his last name yet.
My buddy JP had reached out to say his son had a little bug and was fine, so we met up for lunch. After I’d returned to my
parents’ place, Hayden called while I was sitting on the back deck drinking a bottle of water, planning dinner with Ford.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Hey. How’s it going?”
“Good. I have some news.”
“Oh?”
I smiled even though he couldn’t see me. “Taking your advice and got an NDA drafted.”
“That’s awesome. Does it mean you’re dating someone?”
“Not dating yet, but just covering my ass.”
“I’m really happy for you, Coop.”
“Thank you.” I beamed. “I mean, I just met him so not sure what will happen, but having this will make me feel better.”
“Absolutely. That’s why Jonah did it.”
“Yeah.”
We were silent for a few moments and then Hayden said, “The reason I was calling was because I have some news to
share.”
“Oh? What what’s that?” I finished off my water.
“I’m going to ask Tyler to move in with me.”
My mouth dropped open. “Wow. Congrats, man.”
“Thanks,” he replied.
“Does this mean I finally get to meet him as your boyfriend?” I’d met Tyler once at the charity event his fraternity had put
on, but at the time, I didn’t know the two were dating. Ford had attended the event too, apparently.
Hayden snorted on the other end of the line. “I guess you should be properly introduced now. When are you coming back to
Boston?”
“A few weeks,” I replied. “Maybe more.”
I had planned only to stay a few weeks but now that I’d met Ford, I was considering staying longer to get to know him
better, depending on how long he stayed.
“How about you hit me up when you’re home and we’ll do dinner or something?” Hayden suggested.
“I can do that.”
“You’ll have to let me know if you’ll be bringing a guest.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell my friend that Ford attended college where Hayden taught, but since Ford seemed not
to want to talk about school, and was still in the closet, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not. So, I said, “I’ll let you know.
It’s still new.”
“I know, but really, I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you.”
After I hung up with Hayden, I sent a text to Ford:
Are we still on for dinner?

While I waited for his response, I went inside and headed to my room to grab my things for a shower.
Yeah. What time?
Me: 6?
That works

He included his address in the text. I jumped in the shower and got ready for the dinner date I had in mind, except while I
cleaned up, I realized I wasn’t sure what type of food he liked and needed to know before our date.
BTW, any food you don’t like?

I slipped into my jeans, and he texted back:

Not a fan of sardines and mushrooms but everything else should be ok

Awesome. See you soon and dress comfortable

I finished getting ready by pulling on a white polo shirt and then grabbed my lightweight blue jacket in case the night turned
chilly. After placing an order at a Mediterranean restaurant, I loaded the truck with everything we would need, grabbed the
NDA, and said my goodbyes to my parents.
While I headed toward the address Ford had given me, I started to sweat a little. We had hiked the day before, but dinner
felt more like a first date since it included food. What would the night entail? The place I planned to take him was secluded,
similar to where we’d ended up last night where Ford had given me head in his car. Would we do that again? Would I return the
favor? Maybe more?
When I pulled up to the two-story house, my nerves were still running wild, but I was able to take my phone out and text
Ford that I was in front of his grandparents’ place. A few moments later, he came outside. When we smiled at each other, my
anxiety melted.
“Hey,” he said, sliding into my truck.
“Hey. Have a good day?” I asked as I pulled away from the curb.
“Not bad. Helped my grandpa fix a part of his fence. You?”
“Well …” I took a deep breath and grabbed the folded paper from the center console. I handed it to him. “I wrote this up
and if you agree, could you sign it?”
“And if I don’t?” he asked.
I lifted a shoulder and grimaced. “Then I guess we’ll just be two bros having dinner in my truck.”
He looked over the two-page document as I drove us out of town. All the good places to stargaze were about an hour away,
and while I wasn’t ready to be out in public at a restaurant, I felt like what I had in mind was romantic and could provide a
good first date vibe.
“Do you have a pen?” Ford finally asked.
I grinned as I looked over at him. “Yeah?”
He smiled back. “I get it. I never thought I’d have to sign one to go on a date, but I get it. I was the one who demanded to
keep my last relationship a secret.”
“Ah.” When he didn’t say more, I reached for a pen in the center console and handed it to him. “Right. Thank you for this.”
When I pulled up to a red light, Ford signed and dated the agreement and then handed it back to me.
“I’ll get you a copy tomorrow.”
“So professional,” he teased.
I winced. “I know. It’s not a mood killer, is it?”
He snorted a laugh. “I’m sure it won’t be on my mind later.”
My stomach dipped. “Later? You think there will be more than just eating?”
He turned and looked in the back of my truck. “Seems we’re on the same page, seeing as you brought blankets and
pillows.”
I laughed. “It was more for comfort, but I guess we’ll see what happens.”
We made small talk as I drove to the restaurant, which was in the same town as the state park we were going to.
“Hope you like Mediterranean food,” I said as I pulled into a parking spot at the restaurant.
 “I do.”
“Great. I’ll be right back.” I got out of the truck and headed inside. The food was ready, and after paying, I took it and slid
into the truck. “We’re just going up the road a bit. There’s a state park with a lake I figured we could eat at.”
“Sounds good.”
I got back on the road and drove to the park. I’d had to book a campground because the main area closed at sunset, and I
didn’t want our time to be cut short. I hadn’t brought a tent, of course, but as Ford had seen, I’d packed enough blankets and
pillows to be comfortable as we gazed at the stars. At least, that was my plan.
After checking in at the gate, we made our way to the designated campsite, which was surrounded by trees.
Together, we spread out the blankets and pillows in the bed of my truck, creating a cozy spot for our date night under the
stars. As we indulged in the delicious Mediterranean feast, I told him about hockey, and he said he couldn’t wait to watch some
games after I’d mentioned he should go to some.
Once we were done eating, I put the leftovers in the backseat and returned to where Ford was waiting. “If you see a
shooting star, are you going to make a wish?” I asked as I sat next to him and leaned against the cab of the truck.
“Absolutely. Will you?”
I turned and looked at him. “Of course, but I can’t tell you what the wish will be.”
He chuckled. “Because then it won’t come true?”
“Exactly.” I smiled and then leaned in and kissed his lips softly. I adjusted the pillows to get more comfortable and then
pointed to the space between my outstretched legs. “I’m sure my chest is more comfortable than the cab of my truck. You should
sit over here?”
He grinned at me as if he knew what I was doing, but didn’t say anything as he moved until his back was against my front
and my arms were wrapped around him.
“Better?” I asked.
“Much.”
We could hear the people in the distance as they laughed and partied. It was getting so dark, the only light was from the
moon, so unless people came close and had flashlights, they wouldn’t be able to see who we were.
I lazily ran my fingers up and down Ford’s arm as we looked up, waiting for a shooting star. It didn’t take long before my
hand moved to his chest and skimmed down to the button of his jeans. He said nothing as I toyed with his waistband, and
continued my light touches on his firm chest.
Tilting his head to the side, he exposed the slope of his neck and I didn’t hesitate to lean down and lick his skin, which
made him groan.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “What if people see?”
The people around us were the least of my worries, and with the NDA signed, I could finally be myself and indulge my
needs—ones I was tired of taking care of alone. “We’ll see the flashlights coming and we can hide under the blankets.”
“And here I thought the blankets were if we got cold.” He chuckled.
I smirked and then lightly nipped his neck. “I guess they’re good for multiple things.” My hand that was on his chest moved
down again and I popped the button of his jeans. “I want to touch you.”
“God, yes,” he panted and lifted enough to pull his pants down a little to give me better access.
My hand slid just under the band of his boxers to toy with the trail of hair that led to his dick. “I’m going to jerk you like I
do myself, okay?”
“Okay,” he barely whispered, as my hand slipped farther into his underwear.
My cock strained against the zipper of my jeans, and even though I wanted to come too, the need to make Ford come was
even stronger. It was the first time I would touch another man’s dick, and my heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t stop. My
fist wrapped around his length and I released his shaft from the confines of his boxers.
Giving him a few slow strokes, I asked, “Does that feel good?”
“Yes,” he breathed.
I moved his boxers further down with my other hand and cupped his balls, rolling them in my palm. He squirmed, his
backside rubbing against my crotch.
“If you keep doing that, then we’ll both be naked very soon.”
“What’s wrong with that?” he sassed.
I released his balls and cupped his face with one hand, bringing his lips closer to mine. “Then we’ll do something for the
first time that I don’t want to do in the back of my truck.”
“Oh. Well⁠—”
I cut him off with my mouth, seizing his lips. Our tongues moved together as I pumped his dick, rolling my hand over his
silky crown and back down his length.
“Are you going to let me taste you again?” he asked, breaking our kiss.
“Yeah, if you want to.”
 “I do.”
The thought of his mouth on my cock again had my hand moving faster. He groaned and panted as I worked his long shaft,
twisting at the top and going back down over and over.
Ford lifted his shirt and his hips thrusted up as though he was trying to fuck my hand. “I’m going to come.”
I took his mouth again, kissing him with everything in me, as I jerked him until he was shooting his hot cum on his stomach
and in my hand. I slowly pumped him until he was done and then, without a thought, I licked my palm that was coated with his
salty seed.
“Fuck, Coop,” he groaned as he watched me in the moonlight.
“You taste better than I’d imagined,” I admitted.
Without a word, he rose onto his knees, pulled his boxers and jeans up, and then dove for my pants. I slid down until my
back was flat against the bed of my truck, and Ford made quick work of my jeans. Once my throbbing cock hit the cool air, his
hot mouth was on me. He bobbed a few times and then engulfed my full length, running his tongue around my shaft and then
sucking as he came up.
“Fuck yeah,” I panted.
Ford didn’t stop until I came down his throat and then we lay under the stars until it got late and we both needed sleep. I
took him home, kissed him goodnight before he climbed out of my truck, and then drove away with the biggest smile on my
face.
 5

FORD

THE SECOND MY GRANDPARENTS PULLED OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY, I GRABBED MY PHONE AND SENT COOP A TEXT :

Got the house to myself for a bit. Want to come over for lunch?

We’d been texting a lot, but due to some family commitments for Coop, it had been almost a week since our date, and I was
desperate to see him again.
I’m not sure that’s a good idea

My brow furrowed and I typed back:

Why not?
What if your grandparents come home while I’m still there?
You’re worried you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself and they’ll walk in on something?

The second I sent the message, I felt bad for teasing him because it was very likely that was exactly what he was afraid of,
but before I could apologize, he responded:
Pretty much

The winky face emoji made me feel less like an ass, but still I texted:
I shouldn’t have teased you about that. I’m sorry. I promise no one will know you’re here. They said they
won’t be home until dinner, so we have a few hours of alone time

The dots signaling he was texting danced on the screen, and a few seconds later his answer came through:
Ok. I’ll be there in 20

A grin spread across my face, and I raced to the kitchen so I could get a head start on the food. When I’d left Boston to
escape for a bit, I never expected to meet someone who would keep my mind off of what had happened the last few months.
The more time I spent with Coop, the less I thought about my ex. However, one thing remained on my mind: the NDA.
It wasn’t that I had an issue with him needing to protect his privacy. Hell, I was the last person who could complain about
that, but I did wonder if he made every person he dated sign one. He didn’t have one ready to go at the lake when I sucked him
off, and instead he mentioned needing to get one drafted. That led me to believe he hadn’t used one before and I wondered if
his request was about more than his fear I would run to the media—which would out me too. Maybe he was more bothered by
me not being honest about recognizing him the night we met than he let on. While understandable, it still hurt because I never
wanted to be the person who someone had to worry about outing them.
I was busy seasoning the burgers when the doorbell rang. Even though I was expecting Coop, I looked out the window to be
sure it was him. When he caught me peeking out at him, he grinned and held up a six-pack of beer.
Pulling the door open, I smiled at him. Despite the short time we’d known each other, I was crushing on the guy hard. “Hey.
Glad you could come over,” I greeted and gave him a quick peck. The closest neighbor was a half mile down the road, so I
didn’t worry about anyone seeing us. “I hope you like burgers.”
“I do.”
I felt his stare on me as he followed me to the kitchen. His watchful eyes made me feel nervous yet exhilarated at the same
time.
My grandparents didn’t have a grill, so I placed the burgers in a pan on the stovetop, while Coop popped open a beer for
each of us.
“Are you good with your burger cooked medium?” I asked as I leaned against the counter while the patties sizzled.
“Medium is perfect.” He took a sip of his beer. “You didn’t have to go to all the work of cooking for me. I could have
picked something up on the way over.”
I shrugged, feeling my face flush. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s sweet.” Coop’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer to me. “I was just excited to get a chance to spend more time
with you. Sorry if it sounded like I didn’t want to come over.”
“Like I said before, I understand why you’re cautious, but …” I swallowed hard, feeling my heart race in my chest. “I
actually did want to ask you something.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Okay?”
“I know you explained why you wanted me to sign the NDA, but I can’t stop thinking about how you didn’t already have
one ready to go.” I took a deep breath and looked down at the linoleum floor. “It made me wonder if you asked previous dates
to sign one?”
“No, I never did.”
My head snapped up. “You didn’t?”
His throat moved as he swallowed. “I’ve actually never needed one before.”
“Really? Why?” I questioned.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re the first.”
“The first?”
Coop picked at the label on his beer, not meeting my stare. “I’ve never dated before you. Hell, I’d never even kissed
anyone until the other night in the Thirsty Cow parking lot.”
My eyes widened. Of all the reasons I thought he might give for asking me to sign an NDA, I never expected him to say that.
“You’re serious?”
“I am.” He blew out a breath.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked me in the eyes. “What was I supposed to say? That I’m a twenty-eight-year-old virgin with zero dating
experience? Like that wouldn’t have sent you running.”
“I would have been surprised, but I wouldn’t have run.” I reached for his hand. “I most definitely wouldn’t have ghosted
you if you’d told me.”
“Okay, but how could I have been sure of that when we first met? Trusting people with my personal life doesn’t come easy
for me because it could potentially impact my career.”
Trust wasn’t easy for me either and immediately my mind filled with memories I had tried desperately to forget.
“Ford, are you okay?” Coop rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t upset me.” My voice cracked as I thought about the worst night of my life …

T HE FINAL BELL RANG , AND I RUSHED TO THE PARKING LOT , READY TO START MY WEEKEND . WHEN I REACHED MY CAR , I SAW
Tim, my best friend of the last five years, leaning against the passenger side door.
“Can I get a ride home?” he asked.
“Of course.” I often gave him rides because he didn’t have a car and lived just a block over from me.
I pressed the unlock button on my key fob for the red BMW my parents had given me on my sixteenth birthday and we
slid inside.
“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” he asked, buckling his seat belt.
“Not sure, why?”
He turned his head toward me and grinned mischievously. “What if I told you my parents were out of town, and I
wanted you to come over for some fun?”
“What kind of fun?”
 My heart raced at the thought of spending an entire weekend alone with him. Tim was the only person who knew I was
bi, and ever since I’d confided in him, he’d flirted with me when no one else was around. Before that, I’d never known he
was into guys, and I was excited about the possibility that we could be more than friends.
“I’m sure we can find some things to do without parental supervision.” He winked.
I cranked the engine and then reversed out of the parking spot. “All right. That sounds like fun.” We both laughed as I
emphasized the word “fun”.
“Come over at eight, okay?”
“Yeah.” I drove out of the parking lot and headed to his house.
The drive was short and as I pulled in front of his place, he unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. “See ya.”
“Later,” I replied, my heart hammering my chest with thoughts of what might happen when we were all alone in his
house.

T HE REST OF THE AFTERNOON AND EVENING PASSED IN A BLUR , AND THEN IT WAS TIME FOR ME TO LEAVE FOR T IM ’ S . I COULDN’ T
stop the nerves from taking over during the short walk to his house.
With my stomach in knots, I knocked on the door. I’d never so much as kissed a guy, but the way he had used the word
“fun” led me to believe he didn’t just want to hang out.
A moment later the door opened, and he greeted me with a grin. “Hey.”
“Hey.” My voice wavered slightly as I stepped inside, and I hoped he didn’t pick up on my nerves.
“You want to watch a movie?” He led me to the living room where he had a bowl of popcorn and two cans of soda on
the coffee table.
“Sure.”
Once I sat on the large sectional, he turned off all the lights and pressed play on the movie he had queued up.
Within minutes, he scooted closer to me and draped his arm around my shoulders, his spicy cologne invading my
senses. I tried to focus on the movie, but every single part of me was highly aware of him.
“What are you doing?” I questioned. While I anticipated something would happen between us, it still caught me off
guard that he was making a move already.
“Just getting comfortable.” The blue glow from the television lit up the smirk on his face.
He ran his fingers through my hair, leaning closer until our faces were only inches apart. Having him so close was
overwhelming, and I held my breath. Seconds later, he crushed his lips to mine. The force took me by surprise, but that
didn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him on top of me as I lay back on the cushions.
“Have you ever given someone a blow job before?” he asked.
“No,” I whispered, a little embarrassed by my lack of experience.
“Maybe you can practice on me.” He leaned back on his heels and unbuckled his jeans.
I wasn’t sure if it was something I wanted to do or not, but before I could answer, he moved in again and kissed me,
pushing aside any lingering doubts. I slid off the couch and sank to my knees, pulling his jeans and boxers down to his
ankles.
Tim often bragged about all the action he got, and I didn’t want to disappoint him by hesitating. So, with his hard dick
right in front of me, I fisted the base and engulfed his length. His hips bucked, forcing him farther down my throat, which
made me feel as though I might gag. Thankfully, he pulled back, and I inhaled deeply through my nose in an attempt to
relax so I could make it good for him.
He grabbed the back of my hair and pushed forward once again. I’d watched enough porn to know the basics about
blow jobs, but it still took me by surprise when only a few seconds later he let out a moan as he flooded my mouth with his
salty cum. I searched for a place where I could spit it out but found nothing, leaving me no choice but to swallow.
He looked down at me with a satisfied smirk. “You know what else might be fun?”
“What?” I asked, taking a large swig of my soda.
“We could be each other’s first.”
“I thought that’s what just happened,” I admitted.
He rolled his eyes. “I mean sex.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet.”
He frowned but nodded anyway. “I understand. How about we get drunk instead?”
That was an idea I could get on board with. “Sounds good to me.”
Tim ran to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a couple of shot glasses and multiple bottles of alcohol. We
threw back shot after shot until I was so drunk the room began to spin and I had no idea what was playing on the TV. I
closed my eyes and must have fallen asleep.
 The next thing I knew, I jolted awake. My head was spinning, but I couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain
radiating through my lower half. I was lying flat on my stomach on the couch, my sweatpants and boxers around my knees,
while Tim pushed into my ass.
“What the hell are you doing?” Digging down deep, I found the strength to buck him off.
“Having fun.” He reached for me.
“This isn’t the fun I wanted.” I righted my clothes.
“Don’t be like that. It’s just sex.”
“I gotta go.” I staggered to the door.
“Ford, wait,” Tim called out, but I ignored him. I reached for the handle, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my
exit. “Where are you going? I thought we were having a good time.”
Tears filled my eyes. “A good time? I was passed out, and you … I told you I didn’t want to do that.”
“What are you talking about?” he sneered. “You knew what was going to happen when I invited you over.”
I could hardly believe the person standing in front of me was the same person I had considered my best friend, the one I
shared my deepest secrets with, but he was nothing more than a monster.
“You need to move.”
“Or what?” He crossed his arms.
“Please. I just want to go home,” I begged.
“You’re not going to tell anyone about this, right?”
My eyes snapped to his. “Of course not.”
A part of me wanted to report him, but I was petrified of the repercussions. I wasn’t ready for anyone to learn my secret,
and even though what happened had been against my will, I knew if I went to anybody, I would no longer be able to keep
that part of myself hidden.
“Good. Because you won’t like what happens if you do.” With that final warning he moved out of my way.
A rush of cold air hit me as I stumbled outside. My house was less than a block away, but it felt as though it took an
eternity to get home. Every step I took made me wince in agony. Once inside, I locked myself in my room. Sobs wracked my
body as I replayed the night over and over in my head.
Tim tried to call me a few times over the weekend and eventually I turned off my phone. I wanted to pretend the night
never happened.
But I’d never forget.

ON M ONDAY , I MUSTERED UP EVERY OUNCE OF COURAGE I POSSESSED AND GOT READY FOR SCHOOL . I DIDN’ T HAVE ANY CLASSES
with Tim, and with any luck, I’d be able to avoid him.
When I arrived on campus, I immediately noticed the hushed whispers as everyone stared in my direction as I walked
out of the parking lot and into the building. I was about to turn around and get back into my car when my friend Brent
stopped me.
“So, is it true?” He chuckled with a slightly sinister glint in his eye.
My brow furrowed. “Is what true?”
“That you’re gay.”
“Why would you ask that?” First, I was pretty sure I was bi, not gay. Second, I knew of a couple of kids at school who
were gay, and no one seemed to have a problem with them.
He smirked. “Just a rumor going around school. It’s all anyone is talking about.”
Was this what Tim was talking about when he threatened me Friday night? If so, I didn’t understand why he was doing it
since I hadn’t uttered a word about what he’d done to me.
Not wanting to give Tim any more power over me, I pretended what Brent said didn’t bother me. “Would it matter?” I
chuckled.
“Not really.” He shrugged. “But the fact that you’re making videos for money is a bit much don’t you think?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shoved a cell phone in front of my face. As a video played, my heart fell into my stomach as I watched myself give
Tim a blow job on the small screen.
“How did you get that?” My voice cracked.
He shrugged. “Some random number sent it out to everyone. Tim said it’s from a guy who paid you twenty bucks.”
My face burned with humiliation, and I ran away as fast as I could, not wanting anyone to witness my distress. It was
clear Tim had recorded me giving him head while managing to conceal his identity. Of course, the part where he raped me
wasn’t sent to everyone.
 For the next year and a half, I endured relentless bullying about my sexuality and alleged sexual favors I performed. I
never told anyone because I was both embarrassed and fearful of Tim retaliating. It took years before I even considered the
possibility of getting with another guy after that.
Until Tyler.

“HEY, ARE YOU OKAY?” COOP ASKED , BRINGING ME BACK TO THE PRESENT .
“Yeah, I just …” I shook my head as though I could get the memories to go away. “I know your reasons for keeping your
sexuality a secret, but I never told you why I’m in the closet too.”
“Okay? Do you want to share your reasons?”
I nodded. Even though the truth made me feel vulnerable and raw, I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know I understood
his fears because I had plenty of my own.
“The first person I trusted with that information, he nearly destroyed me,” I began, and then told Coop the whole story.
When I finished speaking, I felt a pair of arms wrap around me as my body shook and tears streamed down my face.
 6

COOP

F ORD POPPED THE BUTTON OF MY SHORTS , AND A THRILL OF ANTICIPATION SHOT THROUGH ME. EVERY NERVE TINGLED
throughout my body as I watched him lower the zipper and free my hard dick. Shivers raced down my spine as he grabbed the
base of my length, and my breath caught as he lowered his head.
Closing my eyes, I groaned as his hot mouth engulfed me, my body arching instinctively as the pleasure built and he sucked
and licked and consumed me. It didn’t take long and, without warning, I came down his throat.
When I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn’t with Ford. I was in my bedroom, having awoken from sleep with the covers
thrown off of me, and my body covered with sweat. I was still hard as a fucking rock despite the cum on my stomach and,
without another thought, I reached down and fisted my aching cock.
My fingers wrapped firmly around my pulsating shaft. As images of Ford’s touch lingered in my mind, I teased my sensitive
tip, and a bead of anticipation formed at the slit. My grip tightened as I pumped my rod, stroking myself with desperate hunger,
and each movement sent jolts of pleasure through my body. My balls drew up, aching with need, as I imagined his lips trailing
down my length.
A wave of pleasure crashed over me, making my back arch. The hot rush of cum shot onto the puddle on my torso and I
stroked myself until the last drop.
Once I came down from the rush, I grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand and cleaned myself up. Reaching for my
phone, I sent Ford a text:
Want to hang out today?

It didn’t take him long to respond:

Sure. What do you have in mind?
I don’t know. I just want to see you

After I hit send, I realized what I’d said. Did I sound desperate? I couldn’t help it because the memory of his mouth from a
few weeks ago when he gave me my first blow job was still racing in my head, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want him to do
it again. But that wasn’t the only reason I wanted to get together. I had genuine feelings for him and wanted to get to know him
better.
A few days ago, he’d shared that when he unwillingly lost his virginity, it had damaged him. I couldn’t imagine having a
friend—someone I trusted—get me drunk and then take advantage of me. I hated that for Ford. The look on his face as he’d told
me the story had broken my heart, and all I could do was hug him.
That afternoon, we ate the burgers he’d made, we watched a movie and then I left before his grandparents returned home. It
was nice to be with him, and I wanted to keep doing it. I had no idea what we could do other than spend time alone where no
one would see us, but then again, friends hung out all the time. Could we be in public without touching or kissing each other?
I’d thought dinner at a restaurant was too much, but what about breakfast or lunch? Coffee? We could always go back to the
Thirsty Cow and play pool.
I want to see you too
How about we grab a beer later at the Thirsty Cow? Maybe a rematch on pool?
And if I win again?

I groaned as I responded:
I’m sure I can find some way to congratulate you but what if I win?
Then it will be me congratulating you
All right. Pick you up at noon? We can order wings or something too
Sounds good. See you later

I jumped in the shower and then headed downstairs to see what my parents were up to.
The morning sun spilled through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the stairs as I made my way down, and the smell of
coffee lingered in the air.
When I was almost at the bottom, I could hear the low hum of my parents’ conversation, and I slowed my pace to catch
snippets of their discussion.
“... just wondering why he’s staying so long this time.”
“I know. He’s always had a tight training schedule during the off-season. It’s not like him to linger,” Dad replied.
I rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, attempting to act casual despite the growing knot in my stomach. My parents
looked up, and they both smiled.
“Morning, son,” Dad greeted, and took a sip of his coffee.
“Morning,” I replied, forcing a smile as I poured myself a cup.
“Sit down, sweetheart.” Mom gestured to the chair beside her.
I eyed her curiously. “Is everything all right?”
“We’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Mom began cautiously. “You’ve stayed longer than usual this summer. Is everything
okay with you?”
I hesitated, glancing down at the swirling dark liquid in my cup. “Yeah, I just needed a break, some time to enjoy being
back home.”
Dad raised an eyebrow, his gaze penetrating. “Something’s different with you. You’re usually back in Boston so you can
use the team’s weight room. Is something going on there?”
I shook my head. “Nothing is going on with the Bruins. Can’t I just enjoy being home?”
“Of course, Emmy.” Mom stood and wrapped an arm around my back. I was several inches taller than her five-four frame.
“But call it mother’s intuition. I feel like something else is going on.”
I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. As I stared at the coffee in my hands, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell them
what I’d hidden from everyone except Hayden. Remembering that they were my parents and they loved me was all it took to
lock in my decision. They hadn’t ever made negative comments or treated anyone badly because of their sexuality. Why would
I be any different? I looked up to meet my father’s stare and then looked down at my mother. “Yeah, there is. I’ve met
someone.”
Mom’s face lit up as she took a step back. “Well, that’s wonderful! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“There’s more.” I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak, and I rubbed the back of my neck with
my free hand. “I’ve … I’ve met a guy.”
Silence hung in the air as my parents stared at each other. I braced myself for their reaction, suddenly unsure how they
would respond.
Dad broke the silence. “Are you trying to tell us you’re gay?”
“Yeah,” I nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “I am.”
For a moment, no one said anything. I felt their eyes on me, and then my parents exchanged a look that seemed to
communicate an understanding. They both engulfed me in a hug as we stood in the middle of the kitchen in a huddle.
“Emmy, sweetheart.” Mom looked up at me. “We love you no matter who you want to date.”
Dad nodded, a supportive smile on his face. “You’re our son, and nothing will ever change that.”
Tears welled in my eyes, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over me. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I’ll ever come out
publicly while playing in the NHL.”
“We understand.” Dad stepped back and returned to his seat. “It’s likely not everyone will be accepting.”
“Yeah.” I sat next to him at the table. “I’d rather be known as Emmett Cooper, the greatest hockey center of all time, than
Emmett Cooper, the gay hockey player.”
“Or you could be known as both,” Mom stated. “Show everyone that your sexuality has nothing to do with your hockey
skills.”
I blew out a breath. “Maybe, but the guy I’m seeing isn’t out either, so we’ll see how it goes.”
“Do you think it would be possible for us to meet him?” Mom asked.
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t planning on telling you just now that I was seeing a guy.”
“Is he from here?” Dad inquired.
I shook my head. “Actually, he’s from Boston too, but we met here in Hartford while we were in town.”
“Oh, wow,” Mom breathed. “Small world.”
It sure was.

I PULLED INTO F ORD ’ S GRANDPARENTS ’ DRIVEWAY RIGHT AT NOON AND SENT HIM A TEXT THAT I WAS OUT FRONT . A FEW
moments later, the front door opened, and he walked out and got into my truck. I itched to lean over and kiss him, but I refrained
and instead squeezed his knee as he buckled his seat belt.
“Hey,” I greeted.
He smiled at me. “Hey.”
I backed out onto the street. “Just to get things out of the way, I might know a few people at the bar. I’ll introduce you as my
friend, but I want you to know you’re more than that to me.”
Ford nodded. “I understand.”
“I really wish it wasn’t this way. By the way, I just told my parents this morning that I was gay and seeing someone.”
“Wait. What?” he gasped.
I lifted a shoulder. “It felt right.”
“How’d they take it?”
A smile spread across my face because telling them made some of the weight I’d been carrying around lift off of me.
“Good. They want to meet you.”
Ford’s blue eyes widened. “Really?”
“I didn’t tell them specifics, but they want to meet the guy I’m seeing. Obviously, only if you’re up for it.”
“I …” He turned and looked out the passenger window. “I need to think about it.”
“Of course.” I knew he was in the closet too, so I understood his hesitation. I turned on the main drag where the bar was.
“You’ve been understanding about my situation, so when and if you’re ready, that will be your choice.”
“Thank you.”
I pulled my F-150 into the parking lot of the bar and cut the engine. We got out and walked side by side to the front door.
Before reaching for the handle, I took a deep breath and smiled warmly at him. In another world, maybe we could walk hand in
hand and have nothing to hide, but even if Ford was out, I couldn’t be and that fucking sucked because spending time with him
made me super happy. It was almost freeing.
The familiar scent of stale beer and fried food welcomed us as we entered. The low hum of conversation and the distant
sounds of classic rock filled the air as I scanned the room for an open table. Spotting one, I walked to a booth near the corner,
away from prying eyes, and Ford and I slid into the worn vinyl seats.
A server came over, and we ordered two plates of wings, fries, and a couple of beers. As we waited, I stole glances at
Ford, his eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and nervousness. The weight of our secret hung in the air, but for now, we were
just two friends enjoying a casual lunch.
“So,” I began, breaking the silence, “this place has the best wings in town. You’re in for a treat.”
Ford chuckled, relaxing a bit. “I’m looking forward to them.”
A few seconds later, the door chimed. I glanced over, and to my surprise, JP and his wife walked in. They hadn’t noticed us
yet, so I nudged Ford, nodding subtly in their direction.
“Shit. That’s my friend JP, and his wife, Chrissy.” I assumed I’d see people I knew, but I didn’t realize it would be one of
my best friends because I thought he’d be working.
Our waitress returned at that moment and placed our pints of beer in front of us, and we tried to act as casual as possible.
JP finally spotted us, and a grin spread across his face before he made his way over. I slid out of the booth to greet my friend
and his wife.
“Coop! I didn’t expect to see you here,” JP exclaimed, giving me a quick hug.
“Just having lunch and hoping to take this guy’s money.” I hooked my thumb toward Ford. “JP, this is my buddy, Ford. Ford,
this is JP and Chrissy.” I hugged Chrissy as Ford waved a hello.
“We’re here for a quick lunch to plan our Fourth of July party while I’m on break,” JP explained. “Will you still be in
town? It’s going to be epic. Food, drinks, illegal fireworks—the whole shebang!”
Chrissy slapped JP on the arm. “Not illegal fireworks. Just sparklers.”
“We’ll see.” JP grinned. “But will you be in town?”
“Should be,” I replied.
“Then come.”
I exchanged a glance with Ford, the unspoken agreement hanging between us. “Of course.”
“And you too, Ford. More the merrier.”
“I’m not sure if I’ll be in town,” Ford replied. I blinked, not sure if he was telling JP a lie or if he was really not going to
be in town. “Might be headed back to Boston.”
JP looked at me. “You two teammates?”
I shook my head, my heart racing as I worried if I could keep up the ruse. “No. Just friends itching for Harvey’s wings.”
JP moaned. “Man, they’re the best.”
“Speaking of,” Chrissy cut in. “I’m going to go order. It was good seeing you, Coop, and nice to meet you, Ford.”
“See ya later.” I waved goodbye to her and Ford did the same.
JP watched his wife go to a table and then turned back to us. “Well, I should follow, or she’ll have my head for lunch, but
hey, the offer stands about the fourth.”
“Thanks,” I replied and gave him another hug.
Once he left to sit at the table with Chrissy, I slid back into the booth across from Ford. “Well, that was nerve-racking.”
“Yeah.” Ford took a sip of his beer. “Glad he didn’t ask more about why I was in town when we’re both from Boston.”
“I know, but are you really going back?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. All depends on if I get a job.”
“Oh, right.” Ford had mentioned to me he had a phone interview with a company and then also a video call. Things were
looking good for him, but he wasn’t sure how long it would be before or if they offered him a position at the marketing firm.
The waitress came over and slid our plates of wings in front of us. She put the basket of fries between us and then left.
“Well, if you’re still here, maybe you can come to the party. I’m sure there’ll be a shit ton of people there and we can just
play cornhole and drink beer. It should be fun,” I stated.
“If I don’t get a job offer, I’ll go with you.”
 7

FORD

S TANDING BY THE WINDOW, I PEERED THROUGH THE BEDROOM CURTAINS AT THE ROAD BELOW WHILE I WAITED FOR COOP TO PULL
up. We were headed to his friend’s Fourth of July party, and I was looking forward to an evening of fun with him, even though it
meant we had to pretend to be only friends. As long as I was with him, I was happy.
My phone buzzed with a text, and I eagerly checked it:
On my way, be there in 5

A smile played on my lips as I typed a quick reply:

Can’t wait!

Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I brushed my hands down my navy-blue T-shirt and red shorts before slipping on a
pair of sandals and heading downstairs.
As soon as he texted me he’d arrived, I hurried outside and climbed into his truck.
“Hey there,” he greeted, his eyes lighting up as he looked at me.
“Hey yourself,” I replied, a matching grin spreading across my face.
It was tempting to lean over and kiss him, but knowing my grandparents might see us had me resisting the urge. Instead, I
reached for my seat belt so we could get on our way.
“Ready for a night of cornhole and sparklers?” he asked, with a playful twinkle in his eyes.
“Absolutely. You thought I was good at pool? I’m even better at cornhole.” I winked.
“Oh, really?”
“Just speaking the truth.” I smirked.
A few seconds later, he placed his hand on my knee. “I’m glad we’re going together, but wish we could be ourselves in
front of everyone.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a ton of experience playing the straight guy, so that isn’t a problem. I’m actually more worried about
meeting your parents.” I hadn’t planned on mentioning anything about Coop’s parents, but it had been on my mind since he said
they wanted to meet me.
“Why’s that?”
I shrugged. “Meeting the parents ... It’s sort of a big deal.”
“I know, but you don’t have to meet them if you don’t want to.”
I laced my fingers with his. “I want to meet them. I’m just nervous.”
He peeked over at me. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am.”
He nodded. “Good because I think they’re really going to like you.”
 “That’s good,” I replied. “Because I really like their son.”
We drove the rest of the way to JP and Chrissy’s house with our hands joined together, and I couldn’t remember a time
when I felt more at peace than I did at that moment.

THE WARM SUMMER EVENING SURROUNDED US AS COOP AND I WALKED AROUND THE SIDE OF JP’ S HOUSE AND INTO THE
backyard. The scent of meat cooking on the grill and the sounds of laughter filled the air. My eyes scanned the yard that was
decorated in traditional Fourth of July decor. Red, white, and blue streamers hung from the patio awning, and strings of white
lights were draped between the trees in the yard. Several tables with red and white checkered tablecloths were scattered
across the lawn, and smaller tables were covered in an array of food and drinks.
“You guys made it!” JP called out as he approached us, holding a red Solo cup.
“Yeah, man. Thanks for the invite,” Coop replied.
Chrissy came over to join her husband. “Coop, I’m so glad you could join us.”
“Of course. Heard this was the best party in town.”
“They aren’t quite as wild as the ones we threw in high school, but we still manage to have a good time.” JP squeezed
Coop’s shoulder.
Chrissy chuckled. “Yeah, but now everyone is ready to call it a night by eleven o’clock.”
I laughed and didn’t mention that until recently, I was partying into the wee hours of the morning while in college.
“You guys should grab a couple of beers and some food,” JP suggested. “We’re going to start our cornhole tournament in
about twenty minutes.”
We joined the other guests filling their plates with hamburgers, hotdogs, potato salad, and chips. Once our plates were
piled high, I grabbed two beers and handed one to Coop.
“Thanks,” he said as he led me toward the tables.
We found a couple open seats, and Coop introduced me to some people he grew up with. They were all super nice, and it
made me smile knowing his friends welcomed me so quickly into their group, even though they believed Coop and I were only
friends.
More guests filtered into the party, and I noticed the whispers and stares from people he didn’t introduce me to when they
spotted Coop. We’d spent the last couple of weeks in our own little bubble, and it had been easy to forget about his celebrity
status.
As we finished eating, a group of kids ran over to our table. “Hey, Coop!” one of the little boys yelled. “Can we get a
picture with you?”
“Of course, you can,” he replied. “Let’s get a group photo.”
The kids all squealed with excitement as he gathered them together and then took a selfie with his young fans. I couldn’t
help but grin at how great he was with them.
After the photo was taken, some of them asked for autographs, which Coop happily signed.
Once they ran off to play, I turned toward him and beamed. “I think you just made those kids’ entire summer.”
He smiled back at me, his dark brown eyes sparkling. “I remember my dad taking me to a game when I was their age, and I
got to meet one of my favorite players. It’s pretty cool to be on the other side now.”
My heart swelled with admiration. Not only was he a talented athlete, but he was also kind and a genuinely good person—
something I couldn’t say about myself. A small twinge of guilt crept in. If we continued to see each other, would he be
disappointed in me when he eventually found out the reason I fled to Hartford? Especially since his friend is one of the people
I hurt with my actions. The thought weighed heavily on my mind as we sat together.
Before I could get too caught up in my own thoughts, JP yelled, “Coop! You two ready to get your game on?”
Coop stood. “Ford’s on my team, because supposedly, he kicks ass at cornhole.”
“Supposedly?” I barked out a laugh. “I was my fraternity’s champion three years in a row.”
“I see how it is,” JP said. “You had to bring a ringer so you could beat me.”
The game started, and the banter continued. Laughter and cheers erupted with each successful throw.
“Nice toss.” I smacked Coop’s back playfully and let my hand linger for just a second longer than I normally would. It was
a touch that wouldn’t draw any attention, but when I glanced at him, I caught the brief flicker of desire in his gaze. It made me
wonder if either of us would ever be comfortable showing affection in public, but whenever I allowed my mind to linger on the
fantasy of being out and proud, I was reminded of the trauma I experienced in high school. I pushed those dark thoughts aside
and concentrated on the game. Coop’s hand brushed against mine as he reached for the beanbag, and it sent a shiver down my
spine.
We continued tossing the bags back and forth, occasionally sneaking glances at each other. It was highly unlikely anyone
would think the small touches and glances we exchanged were any more than two teammates encouraging each other, but to me,
it felt electric and left me wanting more. Maybe I could convince him to make a detour on the way back to my place so we
could make out in his truck. Or more.
Soon, the score was tied, and our opponents unleashed a flurry of taunts. I heard Coop’s voice rise above the noise,
encouraging me as I took my turn. His eyes were fixed on me with a hint of affection, and I liked the way he was watching me.
My toss landed right in the hole and we both erupted into a cheer, hugging each other tightly in celebration. Under any other
circumstance, I doubted either of us would have embraced in front of a crowd, but no one batted an eye since victory hugs and
sports went hand in hand.
“Looks like I picked the right partner.” Coop grinned, and I wondered if his words had a hidden meaning.
“I guess you did,” JP replied and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
“Good game,” I said to JP and his friend, Rod. “I’m going to grab another. You guys want one?”
“I’ll grab my own, but thanks,” JP replied. “Need to check on the kids first.”
Coop shook his head. “I better stick with water.”
I nodded and made my way to the cooler with Rod. He grabbed a beer and then walked away. As I reached into the ice, I
heard a voice in my ear. “I’ve been watching you all night.”
I turned to see an attractive woman with long blonde hair cascading down her back. She was wearing a tight red dress and
had a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Oh, uh ... hi,” I stammered, somewhat surprised by her statement.
“Hi,” she said, holding out her hand for me to take. “I’m Jocelyn.”
I shook her hand with a polite smile, not wanting to be rude, especially if she was one of Coop’s friends. “It’s nice to meet
you. I’m Ford.”
Jocelyn nodded and stepped closer to me so our bodies almost touched. She looked up into my eyes with a flirtatious smirk
and ran one finger lightly across the top of my arm before leaning in close and whispering seductively in my ear. “You want to
step away from the crowd for a bit?”
I had to hand it to her; she was bold. But I wasn’t interested.
I took a step back. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.”
Jocelyn’s jaw dropped, and she seemed taken aback by my rejection, but after a moment, she smiled and nodded. “Your
loss.”
I watched her walk away for just a second before turning and making my way back over to Coop.
“So you met Jocelyn?” he asked.
I chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Didn’t know you were such a hit with the ladies,” he teased and then lowered his voice. “At least I don’t have to worry
about one of them stealing you away.”
I grimaced because I realized there was something I hadn’t told Coop yet, and I hoped it wouldn’t change things between
us.
“What’s that face for?” he asked.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” My heart pounded as I worried about his reaction to my news. “I don’t think it’s a
big deal, but we should probably wait until after we leave to talk about it.”
“Oh ... okay,” he drawled, clearly confused and maybe a bit nervous.
We stayed around the party for a bit longer, watching the kids play with sparklers when the sun started to set before
deciding to head out when the others began to pack up to go home.
Once we were inside his truck, Coop asked, “Did you have a good time tonight?”
A grin spread across my face. “I did. Your friends are cool, and it was entertaining to watch all those kids get excited to
meet the Emmett Cooper.”
He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’m glad you had fun.” He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “So, earlier you
mentioned you haven’t told me something?”
“Yeah.” I took a deep breath, and hoped my confession wouldn’t be an issue for him. “I’m ... bisexual.”
Coop’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “I just feel silly for assuming you were gay.”
“Don’t feel like that,” I implored. “I’m the one who should have said something.”
He was quiet for a minute and then asked, “Does that change anything between us?”
I shook my head quickly. “Absolutely not. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m kind of into you.” I winked.
Coop grinned, and I felt my heart skip a beat.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice low and seductive. “I’m kind of into you too.”
 8

COOP

A WEEK LATER, I STOOD ON MY PARENTS ’ PORCH, SCANNING THE QUIET STREET FOR ANY SIGN OF F ORD ’ S BMW. THE SUN
dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow on the rural landscape. The air held a sense of anticipation, much like the
beating of my own anxious heart. I checked my phone for the umpteenth time, half-expecting a message from Ford saying he
couldn’t make it. But then I saw the familiar red car turning the corner, and my pulse quickened.
As he pulled up in front of the house, I couldn’t help but smile. I walked down the front steps to meet him, my heart
swelling with a mix of excitement and reassurance.
The car door opened, and Ford stepped out, his eyes meeting mine. “Hey,” he said, an uneasy smile playing on his lips.
“Hey, yourself,” I replied, walking up to him. I gave him a quick hug, hoping to ease some of his tension. “Ready?”
Ford nodded and said, “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”
“Everything will be fine. I think they’re more nervous to meet you.”
As we entered the house, the aroma of my mom’s pot roast filled the air. She appeared from the kitchen, a warm smile on
her face. “You must be Ford,” she said, opening her arms for a welcoming hug.
Ford’s tension seemed to melt away as he embraced my mom. “Yes, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Call me Diane, dear. And the pleasure is ours,” she replied, giving him a comforting grin.
My dad joined us in the living room, offering a firm handshake to Ford. “Jason Cooper. Good to finally meet you, Ford.”
Ford smiled, shaking my dad’s hand. “Likewise, sir.”
“Dinner will be ready in five minutes,” Mom stated.
I nudged my head for Ford to follow me and then grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs toward my bedroom.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Just to my room real quick.”
His eyes widened.
“Relax. I’ll leave the door open.” I chuckled at my joke. It did feel as though we were teenagers and not twenty-something
men, but I wanted him away from my parents so I could reassure him that everything was going to be okay.
Once inside, I turned to him and cupped his cheeks. “Stop being nervous. They already love you.”
“I’ve barely said two words.”
I snorted a laugh and teased, “Pretty sure it’s closer to ten.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, but I’ve already warned them not to grill you about shit like I hear parents do. How’s your Red Sox knowledge?”
Ford blinked. “Baseball?”
“Yeah. My dad is a huge fan and if I remember correctly, you told me you were too.”
“I am.”
“Good. Dad will talk about baseball and hockey. Everything will be fine.”
 “All right.” He blew out a breath.
I kissed him quickly and then we returned downstairs. Mom had already placed all the food in the middle of the set table,
and I motioned for Ford to sit across from my usual spot. My parents took the head of the table on either side, and we passed
around the food family style. Each of us filled our plates with roast, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a dinner roll.
“So, Ford,” Dad said after taking a few bites of his meal. “Have you been to any of Coop’s games?”
Ford shook his head. “Not yet, but hopefully I will this coming season.”
“Lucky for you, I know a guy who can get you good seats.” I winked.
“We try to make it to a few games a month,” Mom chimed in. “Maybe we can all go together.”
“I’d like that.” Ford beamed.
As the night progressed, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Ford. Despite the initial nerves, he seemed to be relaxed
around my parents. They didn’t pry into our personal lives, allowing us the space to share what we felt comfortable with.
After a delicious meal, my mom excused herself to get dessert and Ford went to use the bathroom. Alone with my dad, he
gave me a knowing smile.
“You picked a good one, Coop. Ford’s a stand-up guy.”
I grinned, feeling a surge of pride. “Yeah, he really is.”

AFTER DESSERT , MY PARENTS SETTLED IN FRONT OF THE TV, AND I LENT F ORD A PAIR OF SWIM SHORTS SO WE COULD RELAX IN
the hot tub before he left to go back to his grandparents’ house. I hated that he had to leave even though we were grown men,
and I longed to fall asleep with him in my arms and to wake up beside him the next morning. Hopefully that would happen once
we both returned to Boston, but since neither one of us had any definite date of returning, I had to come up with a plan to be
alone together for a night or two.
“Do you play golf?” I asked as we sat across from each other in the warm water, the powerful jets hitting me in all the right
spots.
“Golf?” He arched a brow.
I nodded, thinking about the resort I’d been to a few times before. “Yeah, because it’s a known thing that golf buddies go on
trips together, and I know of a golf resort a few hours away. Maybe we can rent a room and⁠—”
“Golf?” He smirked.
“Well.” I licked my lips and slid across the hot tub, coming face to face with him. “And other stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
I groaned and looked at the house. I knew my parents wouldn’t disturb us and there weren’t neighbors close enough to see
us, but I didn’t feel right fooling around in my folks’ hot tub.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

A WEEK LATER, F ORD AND I PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF THE GOLF RESORT . THE VALET GREETED US AS WE STEPPED OUT OF
my truck and made our way through the grand entrance, where more staff welcomed us with genuine smiles.
“Checking in?” a young woman addressed us with a wide smile.
“Yes. We have a reservation under Cooper.”
She typed a few things on her computer. “Emmett Cooper?”
“Yes.” I nodded and handed my ID and credit card to her.
She grabbed the cards, checked out my name on my driver’s license, and then said, “Perfect. We have you in a one-
bedroom suite for two nights.”
I glanced at Ford and then teased, “Hope you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”
“What? You couldn’t spring for a two-bedroom?”
On the way to the resort, we’d gone over how we were going to handle checking in for our stay. Ford could have always
stayed in my vehicle, but like I mentioned that night a few weeks back in the bed of my truck, men going to golf resorts together
was totally normal. We just had to put on a little show to make ourselves feel better.
“They didn’t have one,” I countered playfully.
“I can have housekeeping make the sofa into a bed while you’re at dinner tonight, if you’d like,” the front desk clerk
offered.
Thinking quickly on my feet, I replied, “I’ll call them to arrange that. I’m not sure when we’re going to dinner.” Or if we
would at all. Calling room service and spending the entire weekend naked with Ford was what I really wanted to do.
 “That works.” She slid a packet with our key cards inside to me. “And it looks like you’ve scheduled a twilight tee time, so
you’re all set.”
“Thanks so much.” I grabbed the packet, and we headed out to my truck for our bags.
Once we got up to the room, we walked into the spacious suite overlooking the manicured golf course.
Ford whistled. “Damn, sick view.”
“Yeah, it is,” I replied, looking at him and not at whatever hole our room looked out at. He turned and my eyes flicked up to
his.
“Stop looking at me like that or we won’t make our tee time.”
I took a step forward. “Do you really want to play golf, baby?”
I heard a small intake of breath at my use of a nickname for him, but it didn’t stop him from admitting, “I’ll do whatever you
want.”
What I really wanted to do would have to wait until later because I had a plan and it would take place after dark.
“How about this?” I ran my thumb over his bottom lip. “We shower and if, for some reason, we miss our tee time, then we
miss our tee time.”
“Shower? Together?”
I nodded and stripped off my T-shirt. “If you don’t want⁠—”
Without a word, Ford pushed me toward the bedroom. Our clothes went flying as we rushed to get completely naked. The
stone floor was cool beneath my feet as I hurried into the bathroom to start the water.
Since signing the NDA, we’d messed around, but I’d never seen him completely naked. So as the water heated, I took him
all in. My cock started to harden as I envisioned myself moving behind him and sinking into him for the first time. Given Ford’s
past, I wasn’t sure when or if that would be possible. Until I knew for sure, I was going to remember how tight his ass cheeks
were and use the memory for when I was alone and on the road when hockey started.
We stepped into the spacious shower and immediately he pushed me against the cool tiles and sealed my lips with his. As
Ford’s fingers wrapped around my throbbing length, a shiver raced down my spine. His touch was confident, purposeful, and I
had a hard time pushing him away.
But I did and sank to my knees.
Before he could ask what was happening, I grabbed the base of his cock. His bright blue eyes met mine, and his breath
quickened as I leaned forward and traced a slow, deliberate circle around his crown with my tongue, savoring the saltiness of
his desire that leaked from the tip. His fingers slipped into my hair, and with no hesitation, I took him into my mouth.
Ford’s gasp filled the steamy space and urged me on as I bobbed up and down. With my hand still holding his base, I went
back to licking his hardness. His dick pulsated beneath my tongue, and my own desire ached for attention. I reached down with
my free hand and jerked myself to the same rhythm my mouth and my other hand were using to work his cock.
“Damn, baby.” He cupped my cheek as I continued to suck him. “For your first time, I have to say you’re good at this.”
I released his cock with a pop but still stroked myself. “Yeah? Does it feel good?”
His eyes moved to my hand, and he grinned. “Better than good.”
I continued to look up at him. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I want to taste you finally.”
“Jesus, Coop.”
I took him into my mouth again and didn’t stop until he was shooting his sweet and salty release down the back of my
throat. After I drank him in, he dropped to his knees in front of me and swatted my hand away from my dick.
“My turn.”
“I’m close,” I advised. I wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a plea, but all I knew was I needed to come and I needed to do
it fast.
Ford grabbed my shaft and gave it a few tugs. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and seconds later, I was groaning my
release all over his wet hand.
“Damn,” he breathed. “Next time I want to taste you too.”
I growled deep in my throat.
Fuck golf.

WE KISSED AS WE STUMBLED TOWARD THE BED , OUR HANDS ROAMING OUR NAKED BODIES DRIPPING WITH WATER .
“You know. I had a plan,” I said against his lips.
He pulled back. “A plan?”
“Just …” I stepped back. Even though I’d just shot my load, my body was on fire and I was ready to go again. Except this
time, I wanted to take things further. “Go back to the bathroom and don’t come out until I tell you to.”
He cocked a brow. “What?”
“Please?” I begged.
“You’re serious?”
“I have a plan and I think I can still pull it off. Just give me five, okay?”
He stared at me for a beat and then looked down at both of our hard cocks. “These won’t be hard in five minutes.”
I snorted a laugh. “Oh, come on. You know if I just blow on your dick, it will get hard.”
He grinned. “Okay, true.”
“Just go.” I shooed him toward the bathroom and shut the door once he was inside. “Don’t come out until I say so.”
“All right,” he whined from the other side.
I rushed to where we had left our bags and pulled out all the LED candles I’d brought. After placing them around the
bedroom, I turned them on and closed the blackout drapes, so the room was bathed in only the light of the candles. I went back
to the bed, grabbed the lube and condoms, and placed them on the nightstand before crawling on top of the king-sized bed.
“Okay,” I called out.
The door to the bathroom opened and Ford stepped out. “What?” he breathed.
I rose onto my knees and gestured for him to walk to me. “I know this isn’t your first time, but I was hoping in some ways it
could be.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you to be my first and since it’s our first time together, I wanted both of us to have a good memory.”
He looked around the room at the flickering candles that cast a warm glow on everything and then moved toward me.
Without another word, his lips met mine.
“Are you sure?” he asked as he pulled his head back.
I nodded. “I am. I’m …” I looked down as my nerves began to overwhelm me. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him
how I really felt, but what if he didn’t feel the same way?
“You’re ...?” he prompted.
My eyes moved up to his. As I stared at him, I knew I was making the right decision because Ford trusted me enough to tell
me about his past and I knew I could trust him with my body. Plus, the organ beating in my chest was screaming at me to just lay
it all out there, so I did.
“I’m … falling in love with you.”
His blue eyes widened, and I panicked for a split-second, but my alarm quickly stopped as he admitted, “I’m falling in love
with you too.”
We both went in at the same time, our mouths connecting in a passionate kiss. Still kissing, he moved forward as I lay onto
my back and he took control, kissing his way down my throat, my chest, and my abs to my dick.
Even though I had just come several minutes before, my cock hardened as his warm tongue licked the length of it. When he
grabbed the base and bobbed up and down a few times, I lifted slightly to look down at him.
He fisted his cock and the sight of him jerking himself while he pleasured me made my hips lift off the bed seeking more
from him.
“Fuck. You’re so good with your mouth,” I praised.
He popped off my dick and said with a smirk, “Just wait, baby. The best is yet to come.”
I smiled down at him. When he sucked me again, I groaned and leaned back down against the pillow, closing my eyes and
enjoying the moment. My hand grabbed his hair and my hips thrusted up to help him get me closer to spilling my seed again.
“Please,” I begged. “I want to feel you inside of me as I come.”
He lifted off of me and leaned forward, taking my mouth again as his heavy cock lay against mine. Our mouths moved
together as both of us rocked our hips. If he didn’t hurry, I was going to lose it before I got what I really wanted.
“Ford.” I said his name as a warning. “I’m close.”
Sitting back on his heels, he reached over, grabbed a condom from the nightstand, and opened the packet. I watched as he
slid the latex over himself and then grabbed the lube and coated his shaft.
“We’ll go slow, okay?” he said sincerely.
I nodded, fisting my throbbing dick in my hand and slowly running my palm up and down.
He squirted more lube onto his fingers and then reached down and rubbed them on my puckered rim. I gasped at the contact,
my back arching off the bed as a loud groan escaped my lips. Even though I had pleasured myself anally while masturbating,
his touch was nothing like my own.
It was so much better.
“Ready?” he asked.
I had no words. Instead, I spread my legs wider, giving him better access to move between them. He took my motion as a
signal and as he slid a finger into me slowly, he leaned forward and kissed me again. We kissed as he stretched me, pumping a
few times and then adding a second finger. He took his time making sure I was ready for him.
When we were both breathless and panting, he pulled back, taking his fingers out of me and replacing it with the head of his
cock as my bent legs went over his thighs.
“If you need me to stop, just tell me.”
“I will,” I assured him.
He took my mouth again, but in place of his fingers, this time he nudged his dick gently into me. It burned as he went deeper,
but instead of focusing on the discomfort, I got lost in his kiss. Before I realized it, Ford began to rock his hips and the burn
eased, leaving me with the feeling of his cock stretching and filling me inch by inch.
“Are you good?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He leaned down and took one of my nipples into his mouth. A zing of pleasure raced through me and straight to where we
were connected. Fuck, it felt amazing.
“Do that again,” I breathed and fisted my dick.
Ford didn’t hesitate to suck my other nipple. He rocked his hips again and my hand that was wrapped around my throbbing
shaft pumped in sync with his thrusts.
“You feel so good,” he panted, licking and kissing every inch of me he could reach as he stayed inside of me.
“You too,” I groaned. “Harder.”
He lifted his head and smirked at me. With a cocky wink, he drove into me hard. The bed squeaked as he moved and the
feeling as though we were one caused my heart to swell.
“So close,” I exhaled.
He moved and sat back on his heels, his hips widening and mine doing the same as my ass lifted off the mattress. It was as
though he could slide further into me. As he thrust, we stared at each other and I knew I’d made the right decision. Ford
Mahoney was amazing, and I loved every tender second he was showing me.
“I’m gonna come,” I panted.
He stilled his hips, slid out of me and leaned down to take my dick into his mouth again. He sucked a few times, and I
released everything I had into his mouth. As I lay there, spent, he slid into me again.
I reached out to touch every part of him I could, feeling his firm pecs under my touch, and as I pinched his nipples, he
groaned and his orgasm ripped through him.
Once he emptied himself into the condom, he pulled out and we both tried to catch our breaths as we lay side by side.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
I turned and kissed him again, tasting my saltiness on his tongue. It would have been impossible to play a round of golf, let
alone be able to walk after that.
“I love you,” I said against his lips.
“I love you too.”
 9

FORD

WE MISSED OUR TEE TIME, BUT I DIDN ’ T CARE BECAUSE HEARING COOP CONFESS HE LOVED ME TOOK ME BY SURPRISE IN THE BEST
way possible. From the moment I had kissed him in the parking lot of the Thirsty Cow, I had felt a spark between us. And every
moment we had spent together since then had only deepened our connection.
“What are you thinking about?” Coop asked, his fingers trailing up and down my back as we lay naked in the king-sized
bed.
“Just about our first kiss.”
“Who knew a game of pool would lead to this?” he mused.
Lifting my head, I met his gaze, and my heart fluttered at the way he looked at me. “Well, I’m glad it led me to you.”
“Me too.” He smiled and pressed a sweet kiss against my lips. “You hungry?”
“Starving.” My stomach growled in agreement.
Coop chuckled and untangled himself from me. “Do you want to go out or order room service?”
“Seeing as we missed our tee time, and I have no intention of leaving this room for the next two nights,” I replied, “Let’s
order room service.”
“Room service, it is.” He slid out of bed and walked across the room to grab the menu from the desk. When he turned back
around, he caught me staring at him. “Like what you see?”
“Maybe.” I bit my lip playfully.
He sauntered back toward the bed, his confident stride making him even more attractive, if that was possible. He climbed
onto the mattress, his body hovering above mine. “Yeah, well, if you keep looking at me like that, we might never eat.”
“Food can wait.” I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer to me, knowing I would never get enough of
him.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING , I SAT ON THE EDGE OF THE BED , SCROLLING THROUGH EMAILS ON MY PHONE WHILE COOP FINISHED
getting ready in the bathroom. My eyes widened when I saw the message I’d been eagerly awaiting, and my heart beat faster. I
tapped on the screen to open it, hoping for good news.
I let out a small shout of excitement, but it was loud enough to catch Coop’s attention as I read, We are delighted to offer …
“What’s up?” he asked, peeking around the bathroom door.
A smile spread across my face. “I got the job.”
He strode toward me, wearing only his black boxer briefs. “Congratulations, baby. That’s great news.”
“Thanks.” I tilted my head up, and kissed him before I went back to reading.
 The details of the position and the compensation were even better than expected, and I felt the excitement bubbling inside
of me. At least, I did until I got to the part about my start date. I was scheduled to begin in fourteen days. While I couldn’t be
more grateful for the job offer, the idea of returning to Boston so soon and getting back to reality caused a wave of sadness to
wash over me.
“What’s that look for? You were so happy just a second ago.” He sat next to me.
I looked over at the man who had become so important to me over the course of the summer. “I need to head back to Boston
in two weeks.”
“Is that an issue?” he asked, looking confused.
“I guess not. I’m just not ready to leave you and go back to the real world yet,” I admitted.
“Yeah, I get it. But I could go back with you.”
“You would do that?”
He nodded. “I need to head back soon anyway. Plus, this has been the best summer, and it’s all because of you. I’m not
ready for us to be separated.”
“Me either,” I admitted. “But what about your parents?”
“I’ve never stayed this long before, so I doubt they’ll be surprised when I tell them I’m going back to Boston.”
I didn’t want him to feel like he had to choose between me and them, so I asked, “Are you sure?”
“I am.” He leaned over and kissed me again.
Kissing Coop was addicting. I eagerly opened my mouth, granting his tongue entrance, allowing him to deepen the kiss. My
hands tangled in his hair to pull him closer. The way his lips felt against mine sent shivers down my spine. It was hard to
believe that at the beginning of the summer, he’d never kissed someone before because he was an expert now. He pushed me
back until I was lying across the bed, and he climbed on top of me. I ran my hands up and down his bare back, feeling every
muscle ripple beneath my fingertips as I explored his body.
He reached for the button of my jeans.
“We should probably get going if we’re going to make check-out,” I said as he slipped the button through the slit.
“We have some time.”
“Only thirty minutes,” I huffed.
He stared at me with a flirtatious glint in his eyes. “That’s plenty of time to make you come.”

MY LAST TWO WEEKS IN HARTFORD PASSED IN A BLUR. I’ D SPENT MOST OF MY TIME WITH MY GRANDPARENTS SINCE IT WOULD
probably be a while before I saw them again, and Coop had done the same with his parents.
“It was so great having you here,” Grandma gushed as I placed my suitcase in my trunk. “We’re going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.” I leaned down to hug her and kissed her cheek.
Staying with her and my grandfather over the summer was supposed to have been my way of escaping my troubles. I never
expected to find a promising job and, more importantly, someone who I saw a potential future with.
Grandpa moved in next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Good luck with the job. They’re lucky to have
you.”
“Hopefully, they’ll feel the same way.” I smiled.
After a couple more hugs and promises to visit as soon as possible, I climbed into my car and started the two-hour drive
back to my parents’ house. When I had explained my living situation to Coop a few weeks ago, I’d left out some details. Getting
kicked out of Sigma Epsilon had left me no choice except to move back home.
Around noon, I pulled up in front of my childhood home in Beacon Hill. Before getting out of my car, I sent Coop a text:
I made it home. Missing you already

He quickly replied:
Me too. You should come to my place after work on Monday. I’ll make you a celebratory dinner for your first
day on the job
I’d love that. See you then

Sliding out of the car, I tucked my phone into my pocket, grabbed my bags, and walked up to the federal-style house.
Entering our code on the keypad by the door, I waited for the lock to disengage and then walked inside.
“Anyone home?” I called out.
“Ford?” My mother’s voice drifted down the staircase. “Is that you?”
“Who else has the code?” I teased as I bounded up the stairs and met her at the landing.
 She pulled me in for a hug. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” I squeezed her back. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s at the store picking up some lunch but should be back any minute. Why don’t you put your things in your room, and
then we can eat while you tell us all about your summer.”
Disappointment washed over me at her suggestion. One day, I hoped I could move past the fear holding me back and tell
them all about the man who made me happy, but I knew it wasn’t that day. Of course, with the NDA in place, I wondered if that
would ever be possible.

S TANDING IN FRONT OF COOP ’ S PENTHOUSE APARTMENT IN THE WEST END AREA OF BOSTON , I KNOCKED LIGHTLY ON THE DOOR.
My first day on the job had taken a lot out of me, and I could have probably fallen asleep standing up, but nothing would keep
me from seeing him.
A few seconds later the door swung open.
“Hey, baby,” Coop greeted and stepped aside so I could enter.
“Hey.” It had been a few days since we’d seen each other, but it felt like an eternity.
Before I could tell him how much I’d missed him, he pulled me close and captured my lips with his. The exhaustion I’d
been feeling melted away, and I suddenly felt energized by his kiss.
Eventually he moved back and smiled brightly. “I’ve been looking forward to doing that again.”
“Is that all you’ve been looking forward to?” I waggled my eyebrows.
He shook his head and laughed. “Let’s eat first, then we can talk about everything I want to do to you.”
“You made food?”
“No.” He grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the kitchen. “But I did order pizza. It got here five minutes before you
did.”
My stomach growled at the mention of pizza. “Great. I’m starving.”
He pulled down two plates from the cabinet and passed one to me. “Do you want a beer?”
“Please.”
With our pizza and drinks in hand, Coop led me to the living room, which was lit only by the setting sun as it shined through
the large windows overlooking the Charles River.
“How was your first day?” he asked as he took a seat on the large leather couch in the middle of the room.
Sitting next to him, I replied, “It was intense, but good. There’s a lot to learn.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.”
I smiled and nodded. “What about you? How did your training go?”
He let out a sigh. “Let’s just say, I’m glad I came back when I did. Switching gears to get ready for the season isn’t easy.”
“Speaking of the upcoming season….” I put my plate of pizza on the coffee table. “How does all the hockey stuff work?
How long are you away from home?” We hadn’t talked about that part of his job because it had seemed so far off, but since we
were making the switch from vacation mode, I was curious how much time we’d have together.
He sighed and put his plate down too. “It depends. We average three games a week, but even that can vary. Sometimes, I’m
on the road for a week, but other times, we play here for a few games in a row.”
“Sounds like it’s going to be hard to find time together, but I’m willing to make it work if you are.”
Coop rested his hand on my thigh. “Of course, I’m willing to make it work. I thought I’d been clear about that.”
I took a sip of my beer. “You have, but we haven’t talked about us yet.”
He cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
I placed my bottle on the coffee table and shifted to face him. “The talk about what this is between us.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’re dating, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but we never put a label on things.”
His hand slid up my thigh. “What kind of label do you want?”
I leaned my head back on the couch and looked at him. “I want to be your boyfriend, and I want us to be an official couple.
I know our relationship has to remain a secret, but I want us to know we belong to each other.”
He nodded slowly and grinned. “That works for me.”
I leaned in for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm, and his tongue slid smoothly into my mouth. I groaned and wrapped my
arms around his neck.
Coop pulled away, his eyes dark and intense. “I want you so bad right now.”
I wanted him too. More than I could express with words, so instead, I cupped his face and kissed him again, more
passionately. His fingertips traced my jaw as our kiss deepened and I could feel the heat radiating off him as our bodies
pressed together.
Another random document with
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a few miles eastward, to the ridge of old Helvellyn, he would find the wheel
completed by the vales of Wytheburn, Ulswater, Haweswater, Grasmere,
Rydal, and Ambleside, which bring the eye round again to Winandermere, in
the vale of Langdale, from which it set out. From the sea or plain country all
round the circumference of this fairy-land, along the gradually-swelling
uplands, to the mighty mountains that group themselves in the centre, the
infinite varieties of view may be imagined—varieties made still more
luxuriant by the different position of each valley towards the rising or setting
sun. Thus a spectator in the vale of Winandermere will in summer see its
golden orb going down over the mountains, while the spectator in Keswick
will at the same moment mark it diffusing its glories over the low grounds.
In this delicious land, dyed in a splendour of ever-shifting colours, the old
customs and manners of England still lingered in the youth of Wordsworth,
and took a firm hold of his heart, modifying all his habits and opinions.
Though a deluge of strangers had begun to set in towards this retreat, and
even the spirit of the factory threatened to invade it, still the dalesmen were
impressed with that character of steadiness, repose, and rustic dignity, which
has always possessed irresistible charms for the poet. Their cottages, which,
from the numerous irregular additions made to them, seemed rather to have
grown than to have been built, were covered over with lichens and mosses,
and blended insensibly into the landscape, as if they were not human
creations, but constituent parts of its own loveliness. In this old English
Eden, all his schoolboy days, Wordsworth wandered restlessly, drawn hither
and thither by his irresistible passion for nature, and receiving into his soul
those remarkable photographs which were afterwards to delight his
countrymen. There can be no doubt that the charms of this lake scenery
added still more strength to the poet’s peculiar tendencies, and developed a
conservative sentiment, which, though temporarily overcome, afterwards
reared itself up in haughtier majesty than before. The poet was naturally led
to indulge much in out-of-door wanderings and pastimes, such as skating, of
which he has left a picture unapproachable in its vividness and precision.”
In such scenery then, and with such occupations, did the boy spend his
time, until it became necessary to send him to a higher school than
Cockermouth afforded. He was accordingly dispatched to Hawkshead
Grammar School, near the lake of Esthwaite, where he was not crammed
with overmuch learning. He speaks of these larger school days with
enthusiasm, in his “Prelude;”—not, however, because the little Latin and
mathematics which he learned were so tasteful to his mind; but because his
leisure hours and holidays were rendered sweeter by the restraints of the
school, and gave a greater zest to his field-sports, and the secular books
which he loved. He mentions his amusements—such as birds’ nesting, in the
warm moist mornings of Spring,—springing woodcocks, in the brown and
mellow days of Autumn,—bathing in the Derwent, that “tempting playmate”
of his, into which, even when five years old, he would plunge again and
again, “making one long bathing of a Summer’s day,”—rowing, on sunny
half-holidays with his boisterous schoolmates, on the great “plain of
Windermere,”—or skating, by day and night, upon the frozen bosom of
Esthwaite. His beloved books, too, at this time, find a record in his verse.
They are Fielding—that mighty creator, so full of the “play-impulse,” like an
old god who makes worlds, and amuses himself with the story of their
various fortunes; Cervantes, who laughed Christendom out of its chivalry,
because chivalry was dead as an institution, and had become laughable; Le
Sage, with his Shaksperian knowledge of life, and his inimitable artistic
power; and Swift, with his sharp wit, learning, and satire, glittering amid
continents of mud. “Gulliver’s Travels,” and the “Tale of a Tub,” were the
things which stuck to him fastest, however, of all the works of these writers.
In the meanwhile the poet was awakening within him, and the poetic
pabulum was becoming, every day, more and more necessary to his
existence. His fine receptive spirit stored up all the forms and influences of
nature; revivified them, and reproduced them by its power. The strong
individuality, which marks his poetry, manifested itself at this early period;
for he loved solitude better than his playmates; although he loved them too,
and speaks of them with affection; but the dells, mountains, and lakes, were
his most beloved companions.—Often would he lie down upon the grass or
the heather, and wait for the gentle voices which had so frequently
whispered the secrets of nature in his ears, and by their inspiration had
enabled him to catch a glimpse of the divine glory behind the veil of things;
or looking upwards into the blue unfathomable depths of heaven, he has
asked questions which those depths could not answer, and has thus tasted of
the sorrow which makes life holy. His own mind had begun to react upon
Nature, and to make her more beautiful or terrible, according to his mood.
He began to feel the auxiliar light, which comes from the soul, and diffuses
its glory over all things, making the common noble, and investing the
grandest forms of the material world, with the still grander attributes of
imagination. He hints at the process of all this; at the “plastic power” and the
creative power,—the outer and the inner modus of his culture. “A plastic
power,” he says—

“Abode with me; a forming hand, at times

Rebellious, acting in a devious mood;
A local spirit of his own, at war
With general tendency; but for the most
Subservient strictly to external things
With which it communed. An auxiliar light
Came from my mind, which on the setting sun
Bestowed new splendour; the melodious birds,
The fluttering breezes, fountains that run on
Murmuring so sweetly in themselves, obeyed
A like dominion; and the midnight storm
Grew darker in the presence of my eye.”

And all this was much better than school-learning—although school

learning is not to be despised. But Wordsworth, as before remarked, learned
very little at school, although he took honours in the great Alma Mater, out
of doors. And it is singular that nearly every one who has made a figure, and
left a mark in the world’s page, has been equally unindebted to school for his
success. Genius hates to be put in harness, and yet without discipline of
some sort or other, there can be no stability of character—no steady aim,
purpose, or achievement. Nature always takes care to exaggerate the natural
tendency of her favourites, that the balance may be restored by discipline,
and that the work which she requires of the peculiar faculties may be done.
And to this discipline genius itself must, in the end, submit, or fail in the
high purpose of its existence. We can afford that it should be a little erratic,
and wild in its ways, especially in youth; that it should even like the song of
the birds better than the concords of grammar. But it must learn grammar
after all, and many other things beside, if it is really to do any great work in
the world. And this was the case with Wordsworth, who alternated his book
studies with those of Nature. For although he acquired nothing more than the
mechanical forms of learning at Hawkshead—and these were limited to
Latin and mathematics—yet the discipline was good for his health, and the
acquirements themselves were not to be despised. In the meanwhile, he had
written verses too remarkable to be passed over without notice, although the
poet himself says, “they are but a tame imitation of Pope’s versification, and
a little in his style.” They were written upon the completion of the second
centenary of the foundation of the Hawkshead grammar school (in 1585, by
Archbishop Sandys,) as a school exercise, when Wordsworth was only
fourteen years old; and as the poetry is not included in his works, although
Dr. Wordsworth has preserved it in the autobiographical memoranda of his
“Memoir,” lately published, I will make a quotation from it, that the reader
may see how the genius of Wordsworth first adapted itself to the laws and
formulary of poetic art. It is Education that speaks in the following lines.

“There have I lov’d to skim the tender age,

The golden precepts of the classic page;
To lead the mind to those Elysian plains
Where, thron’d in gold, immortal Science reigns;
Fair to the view is sacred Truth display’d,
In all the majesty of light arrayed,
To teach, on rapid wings, the curious soul,
To roam from earth to heaven, from pole to pole;
From thence to search the mystic cause of things,
And follow Nature to her secret springs;
Nor less to guide the fluctuating youth,
Firm in the sacred paths of moral truth.
To regulate the mind’s disordered frame,
And quench the passions kindling into flame;
The glimmering fires of virtue to enlarge,
And purge from vice’s dross my tender charge.
Oft have I said, the paths of fame pursue,
And all that virtue dictates, dare to do.
Go to the world—peruse the book of man,
And learn from thence thy own defects to scan;
Severely honest, break no plighted trust—
But coldly rest not here—be more than just!
Join to the rigour of the sires of Rome
The gentler manners of the private dome;
When virtue weeps in agony of woe,
Teach from the heart the tender tears to flow;
If Pleasure’s soothing song thy soul entice,
Or all the gaudy pomp of splendid vice,
Arise superior to the syren’s power,
The wretch, the chort-liv’d vision of an hour.
Soon fades her cheek, her blushing beauties fly,
As fades the chequer’d bow that paints the sky.”
 Now, it must be acknowledged, that this writing, imitative as it is, is very
remarkable as the production of a boy of fourteen; and that it displays an
uncommon degree of artistic skill in its construction, with much command of
language, and a moral culture one does not often meet with in boys. This,
however, was not Wordsworth’s first attempt at composition. “It may be,
perhaps, as well to mention,” says the poet, in his brief autobiographical
notes, appended to the Memoir, “that the first verses I wrote, were a task
imposed by my master; the subject ‘The Summer Vacation;’ and of my own
accord I added others upon ‘Return to School.’ These exercises, however,”
he continues, “put it into my head to compose verses from the impulse of my
own mind; and I wrote, while yet a schoolboy, a long poem running upon my
own adventures, and the scenery of the country in which I was brought up.
The only part of that poem which has been preserved is the conclusion of it,
which stands at the beginning of my collected poems. It commences ‘Dear
native regions.’ ” This poem was the archetype of the “Prelude,” and was a
good preparatory discipline to the structure of that nobly musical poem.
In 1786, in anticipation of leaving school, he wrote some sweet verses, in
which he speaks, with a sad fondness, of the old region round about
Hawkshead, and vows, with a lover’s heart, never to forget its beauty, but to
turn towards it wherever he may be, as to the shrine of his idolatry.

“Thus from the precincts of the west

The sun, while sinking down to rest,
Though his departing radiance fail
To illuminate the hollow vale,
A lingering lustre fondly throws
On the dear mountain-tops where first he rose.”

The muse had now fairly possessed him, and he was destined to have a
triumphant career as the high priest of song. Among his earliest sonnets is
the following, which is the last quotation I shall give from these boyish
effusions.
 “Calm is all nature as a resting wheel:
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal
O’er vale and mountain and the starless sky.
Now in this blank of things a harmony,
Home-felt and home-created, comes to heal
That grief for which the senses will supply
Fresh food, for only then while memory
Is hushed am I at rest. My friends! restrain
Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
Oh, leave me to myself, nor let me feel
The officious touch that makes me droop again!”

His school-days at Hawkshead were now drawing to a close, but before

we leave this part of his life, this genial seed-time from which he
subsequently reaped so glorious a harvest, it will be well to add a few more
particulars respecting the locality of Hawkshead, and the general discipline
of its old Elizabethan grammar school, as a sort of supplement to the
previous history. And, first of all, a word about Esthwaite. [C] “Esthwaite,
though a lovely scene in its summer garniture of woods, has no features of
permanent grandeur to rely on. A wet or gloomy day, even in summer,
reduces it to little more than a wildish pond, surrounded by miniature hills;
and the sole circumstances which restore the sense of a romantic region, and
an Alpine character, are the knowledge (but not the sense) of endless sylvan
scenery, stretching for twenty miles to the sea-side, and the towering groups
of Langdale and Grasmere fells, which look over the little pasture barrier of
Esthwaite, from distances of eight, ten, and fourteen miles.”
“Esthwaite, therefore, being no object for itself, and the sublime head of
Coniston being accessible by a road which evades Hawkshead, few tourists
ever trouble the repose of this little village town.... Wordsworth, therefore,
enjoyed this labyrinth of valleys in a perfection that no one can have
experienced since the opening of the present century. The whole was one
paradise of virgin beauty; and even the rare works of man, all over the land,
were hoar with the grey tints of an antique picturesque; nothing was new,
nothing was raw and uncicatrized. Hawkshead, in particular, though tamely
seated in itself and its immediate purlieus, has a most fortunate and central
locality, as regards the best (at least the most interesting) scene for a
pedestrian rambler. The gorgeous scenery of Borrowdale, the austere
sublimities of Wastdalehead, of Langdalehead, or Mardale,—these are too
oppressive in their colossal proportions, and their utter solitudes, for
encouraging a perfectly human interest. Now, taking Hawkshead as a centre,
with a radius of about eight miles, we might describe a little circular tract
which embosoms a perfect net-work of little valleys—separate wards or
cells, as it were, of one large valley, walled in by the great primary
mountains of the region. Grasmere, Easdale, Little Langdale, Tilberthwaite,
Yewdale, Elterwater, Loughrigg Tarn, Skelwith, and many other little quiet
nooks, lie within a single division of this labyrinthine district. All these are
within one summer afternoon’s ramble. And amongst these, for the years of
his boyhood, lay the daily excursions of Wordsworth.
“I do not conceive that Wordsworth could have been an amiable boy; he
was austere and unsocial, I have reason to think, in his habits; not generous;
and above all, not self-denying.... Meantime, we are not to suppose that
Wordsworth, the boy, expressly sought for solitary scenes of nature amongst
woods and mountains, with a direct conscious anticipation of imaginative
pleasure, or loving them with a pure, disinterested love, on their own
separate account. These are feelings beyond boyish nature, or, at all events,
beyond boyish nature trained amidst the necessities of social intercourse.
Wordsworth, like his companions, haunted the hills and the vales for the
sake of angling, snaring birds, swimming, and sometimes of hunting,
according to the Westmorland fashion, on foot: for riding to the chace is
often quite impossible, from the precipitous nature of the ground. It was in
the course of these pursuits, by an indirect effect growing gradually upon
him, that Wordsworth became a passionate lover of Nature, at the time when
the growth of his intellectual faculties made it possible that he should
combine those thoughtful passions with the experience of the eye and ear.”
De Quincey then continues to relate, as an illustration of the sudden,
silent manner in which Nature makes herself felt by the observer, even when
he is paying no attention to her operations, but is occupied with nearer and
more secondary matters—how he and Wordsworth were walking one
midnight, during the Peninsular war, from Grasmere to Dunmail Raise, to
meet the mail, in order that they might obtain the newspaper Coleridge was
in the habit of sending them, and thus learn the earliest intelligence of the
state of affairs on the Continent. “At intervals, Wordsworth had stretched
himself at length on the high road, applying his ear to the ground, so as to
catch any sound of wheels that might be going along at a distance. Once,
when he was slowly rising from this effort, his eye caught a bright star that
was glittering between the brow of Seat Sandal and the mighty Helvellyn.
He gazed upon it for a minute or so; and then, upon turning away to descend
into Grasmere, he made the following explanation:—‘I have remarked, from
my earliest days, that if, under any circumstances, the attention is perfectly
braced up to a steady act of observation, or of steady expectation, then, if
this intense condition of vigilance should suddenly relax, at that moment any
beautiful, any impressive visual object, or collection of objects, falling upon
the eye, is carried to the heart with a power not known under other
circumstances. Just now my ear was placed upon the stretch, in order to
catch any sound of wheels that might come down upon the lake of
Wythburn, from the Keswick road; at the very instant when I raised my head
from the ground, in final abandonment of hope for this night, at the very
instant when the organs of attention were all at once relaxing from their
tension, the bright star hanging in the air above those outlines of massy
blackness fell suddenly upon my eye, and penetrated my capacity of
apprehension, with a pathos and a sense of the Infinite, that would not have
arrested me under other circumstances.’ ”
And it was precisely in this manner, according to De Quincy, and indeed
according to the known laws by which Nature educates the faculties of the
poet, that Wordsworth was educated in his boyhood. All this hunting,
fishing, and rambling, were but the means by which Nature allured him to
the woods and waters, that she might silently impress him with her manifold
forms and influences. There are evidences, however, of something like
communion with Nature in the early poems of Wordsworth, even before he
left Hawkshead; and his solitary wanderings, his roamings round the lake of
Esthwaite—five miles before breakfast—were not without a purpose, and
could not have been undertaken unless an unquenchable, though perhaps not
a fully developed love, had possessed his heart, for natural scenery, and the
mystic lore which it teaches. His own confession, that though Nature was at
first a dumb perplexing riddle to him, and merely affected him by her beauty
and grandeur,—I say his own confession, that in spite of this, he
subsequently felt the coming of the “auxiliar light” from his own soul,
which penetrated her forms, and made them instinct with sublime
intelligence—will illustrate the idea with sufficient force and clearness.
 Enough, however, has been said upon this subject, for it is impossible to
trace in any direct manner, the subtle and delicate influences of Nature upon
the human mind, or to determine even, in the instance of Wordsworth, the
precise time when he first sought “the woods and mountains, with a direct
conscious anticipation of imaginative pleasure.” We will leave all this,
therefore, and direct the reader to the “Prelude,” as the best exposition of the
poet’s mental development at this early period. A few words respecting the
government of the Hawkshead grammar school, as an influence affecting the
character of the poet, and we will then follow him to Cambridge.
“Taking into consideration the peculiar tastes of the person,” says De
Quincy, “and the peculiar advantages of the place, I conceive that no pupil of
a public school can ever have passed a more luxurious boyhood than
Wordsworth. The school discipline was not, I believe, very strict; the mode
of living out of school very much resembled that of Eton for Oppidans,—
less elegant perhaps, and less costly in its provisions for accommodation, but
not less comfortable; and in that part of the arrangement which was chiefly
Etonian, even more so; for in both places the boys, instead of being gathered
into one fold, and at night into one or two huge dormitories, were distributed
amongst motherly old “dames,” technically so called at Eton, but not at
Hawkshead.” In the latter place, agreeably to the inferior scale of the whole
establishment, the houses were smaller and more college like, consequently
more like private households; and the old lady of the menage was more
constantly amongst them, providing with maternal tenderness, and with a
professional pride, for the comfort of her young flock, and protecting the
weak from oppression. The humble cares to which those poor matrons
dedicated themselves, may be collected from several allusions scattered
through the poems of Wordsworth; that entitled “Nutting” for instance, in
which his early Spinosistic feeling is introduced of a mysterious power
diffused through the solitudes of woods, a presence that was disturbed by the
intrusion of careless and noisy outrage, and which is brought into a strong
relief by the previous homely picture of the old housewife equipping her
young charge with beggar’s weeds in order to prepare him for a struggle
with thorns and brambles. Indeed not only the moderate rank of the boys,
and the peculiar kind of relation assumed by these matrons, equally
suggested this humble class of motherly attentions, but the whole spirit of
the place and neighbourhood was favourable to an old English homeliness of
domestic and personal economy.”
 It will thus be seen that Wordsworth was early inducted into those
thriftful and economical habits which marked his character through life, and
enabled him during his young days to bear the temporary loss of his paternal
fortune without much inconvenience. And the above facts are worthy to be
remembered, not only as illustrating much for us in the history of
Wordsworth, but as another instance of the power of a wise and early
training.
The poet thus alludes to the cottages of the “Danes:”—

“Ye lowly cottages wherein we dwelt

A ministration of your own was yours;
Can I forget you, being, as you were,
So beautiful among the pleasant fields
In which ye stood? or can I here forget
The plain and seemly countenance, with which
Ye dealt out your plain comforts? Yet had ye
Delights and exultations of your own.
Eager, and never weary, we pursued
Our home-amusements, by the warm peat-fire,
At evening; when, with pencil and smooth slate,
In square divisions parcelled out, and all
With crosses and with cyphers scribbled o’er,
We schemed and puzzled, head opposed to head,
In strife too humble to be named in verse;
Or round the naked table, snow white deal,
Cherry or maple, sate in close array,
And to the combat, loo or whist,[D] led on
A thick-ribbed army; not, as in the world,
Neglected, or ungratefully thrown by,
Even for the very service they had wrought,
But husbanded thro’ many a long campaign.
Uncouth assemblage was it, where no fear
Had changed their functions; some plebeian cards
Which fate, beyond the promise of their birth,
Had dignified, and called to represent
The persons of departed potentates.
Oh, with what echos on the board they fell!
Ironic diamonds,—clubs, hearts, diamonds, spades,—
A congregation piteously akin!
Cheap matter offered they for boyish wit,
Those sooty knaves, precipitated down,
With scoffs and taunts, like Vulcan out of heaven:
 The paramount ace, a moon in her eclipse,
Queens gleaming thro’ their splendour’s last decay,
And monarchs surly at the wrongs sustained
By royal-visages. Meanwhile, abroad
Incessant rain was falling, or the frost
Raged bitterly, with keen and silent work;
And, interrupting oft that eager game,
From under Esthwaits’ splitting scenes of ice
The pent up air, struggling to free itself,
Gave out, to meadow grounds and hills, a loud
Protracted yelling; like the noise of wolves,
Howling, in troops, along the Bothnic main.”

And, then, as a specimen of the out-door sports, and exercises of his

youth, whilst dwelling with his good old dame, he says:
 “And in the frosty season, when the sun
Was set, and visible for many a mile
The cottage windows blazed thro’ twilight gloom,
I heeded not their summons; happy time
It was, indeed, for all of us—for me,
It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud,
The village clock struck six—I wheeled about,
Proud and exulting, like an untired horse,
That cares not for his home. All shod with steel
We hissed along the polished ice in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase,
And woodland pleasures—the resounding horn,
The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare.
So thro’ the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle; with the din
Smitten, the precipices rang aloud;
The leafless trees, and every icy crag,
Tinkled like iron; while far distant hills
Into the tumult sent an awful sound
Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars
Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng
To cut across the reflex of a star,
That fled, and flying still before me, gleamed
Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes,
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I, reclining back upon my heels
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me, even as if the earth had rolled,
With visible motion, her diurnal round!
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train,
Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched,
Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep.”

And with this famous skating passage—the finest realization of the kind
in poetry, I will conclude this outline of the poet’s school-days and mental
history.
 CAMBRIDGE.
It was in October, 1787, that Wordsworth was sent to St. John’s College,
Cambridge, by his uncles, Richard Wordsworth, and Christopher
Crackanthorpe, under whose care his three brothers and his sister were
placed on the death of their father, in 1795. The orphans were at this time
nearly, if not entirely, dependent upon their relatives, in consequence of the
stubborn refusal of the wilful, if not mad, Sir James Lowther, to settle the
claims of their father upon his estate.
The impressions which Wordsworth received of Cambridge, on his
arrival, and during his subsequent residence in that university, are vividly
pictured in the “Prelude.” The “long-roofed chapel of King’s College,”
lifting its “turrets and pinnacles in answering files,” high above the dusky
grove of trees which surrounded it, was the first object which met his eye, as
he approached the town. Then came the students, “eager of air and exercise,”
taking their constitution walks; and the old Castle, built in the time of the
Conqueror; and finally Magdalene bridge, and the glimpse of the Cam
caught in passing over it, and the far-famed and much-loved Hoop Hotel.

“My spirit was up, my thoughts were full of hope;

Some friends I had, acquaintances who there
Seemed friends, poor simple school-boys, now hung round
With honour and importance; in a world
Of welcome faces up and down I roved;
Questions, directions, warnings, and advice
Flowed in upon me from all sides; fresh day
Of pride and pleasure, to myself I seemed
A man of business and expense, and went
From shop to shop about my own affairs,
To tutor or to tailor, as befel,
From street to street, with loose and careless mind.”

The University seemed like a dream to him:

 “I was the dreamer, they the dream; I roamed
Delighted thro’ the motley spectacle;
Gowns—grave or gaudy—doctors, students, streets,
Courts, cloisters, flocks of churches, gateways, towers;
Migration strange for stripling of the hills—
A northern villager.”

And then he goes on to describe his personal appearance and habits; how
suddenly he was changed amidst these scenes, as if by some fairy’s wand;
rich in monies, and attired—

“In splendid garb, with hose of silk, and hair

Powdered, like rimy trees when frost is keen;
My lordly dressing-gown, I pass it by,
With other signs of manhood, that supplied
The lack of beard.—The weeks went roundly on;
With invitations, suppers, wine, and fruit;
Smooth housekeeping within—and all without
Liberal, and suiting gentlemen’s array.”

The contrast is picturesque and striking enough of Wordsworth, the

Hawkshead schoolboy, clad in rustic garb, and placed under the control of
his good dame, in her little whitewashed cottage, with its warm peat-fire; to
Wordsworth, the collegian, dressed in silk-stockings, with his powdered hair,
plentiful monies, troops of wine-drinking, and sight-loving friends. Perhaps,
it was natural that Wordsworth should be proud of his butterfly-wings, after
having escaped from the shell of the chrysallis—but no one could have
imagined, from the grave, high, and austere character he afterwards
sustained, that he had, at any previous time of his life, given way to the
weakness of dandyism. Youth, however, is not to be measured by severe
standards; and even if it were to be so measured, Wordsworth has not many
sins to answer for, and certainly none of a venial cast. He was, nevertheless,
what would be called a gay young fellow, during the first year of his college
life; and he himself attributes a good deal of this to the fact that he was
before the freshmen of his year in Latin and mathematics, and had, therefore,
no pressing inducement to study. Pleasure called him with her syren voice,
and he, nothing loath, obeyed her behests. Still he did not neglect his studies;
although French and Italian, with the literature of his own country, seem to
be the staple of the scholarship he acquired at Cambridge. “It is true,” says
De Quincy, “that he took the regular degree of B.A., and in the regular
course; but this was won in those days by a mere nominal examination,
unless where the mathematical attainments of the student prompted his
ambition to contest the honourable distinction of Senior Wrangler. This, in
common with all other honours of the university, is won, in our days, with
far severer effort than in that age of relaxed discipline; but at no period could
it have been won, let the malicious and the scornful say what they will,
without an amount of mathematical skill very much beyond what has ever
been exacted of its alumni by any other European university. Wordsworth
was a professed admirer of the mathematics; at least of the higher geometry.
The secret of this admiration for geometry lay in the antagonism between
this world of bodiless abstraction and the world of passion.”
Leaving this subject of his attainments, however, and returning to his
college life, it may farther be stated, as a proof of Wordsworth’s love of good
fellowship at this time, that during a visit to a friend who occupied the rooms
which John Milton, the blind old Homer of the Commonwealth occupied,
during his residence in Cambridge, he drank so copiously in his enthusiasm
and reverence for the place, and its grand and golden memories, that he was
fairly carried away on the other side of the rational barriers, and in short got
gloriously drunk; not so drunk, however, that he could not attend the chapel
service, and behave there with due decorum. Speaking of the great men who
had trod the streets of Cambridge and worn an university gown before him,
and of his great reverence for them, he has occasion to introduce Milton, and
alludes to this excess at the close of the passage. I will quote it entire.

“Beside the pleasant mill of Trumpington,

I laughed with Chaucer in the hawthorn shade;
Heard him, while birds were warbling, tell his tales
Of amorous passion. And that gentle bard,
Chosen by the muses for their page of state!—
Sweet Spenser, moving through his clouded heaven
With the moon’s beauty, and the moon’s soft pace,
I called him brother, Englishman, and friend.
Yea our blind poet, who in his later day,
Stood almost single, uttering odious truth—
Darkness before, and danger’s voice behind.
Soul awful,—if the earth has ever lodged
An awful soul—I seem’d to see him here
Familiarly, and in his scholar’s dress,
Bounding before me, yet a stripling youth—
 g ,y p gy
A boy, no better, with his rosy cheek
Angelical, keen eye, courageous look,
And conscious step of purity and pride.
Among the band of my compeers was one
Whom chance had stationed in the very room
Honoured by Milton’s name. O temperate bard!
Be it confest, that for the first time, seated
Within thy innocent lodge and oratory,
One of a festive circle, I poured out
Libations to thy memory, drank, till pride
And gratitude grew dizzy in a brain
Never excited by the fumes of wine
Before that hour, or since. Then forth I ran
From the assembly; through a length of streets
Ran, ostrich like, to reach our chapel door
In not a desperate or opprobrious time,
Albeit long after the importunate bell
Had stopped, with wearisome Cassandra voice
No longer haunting the dark winter night.
Call back, O friend! a moment to thy mind,
The place itself, and fashion of the rites.
With careless ostentation shouldering up
My surplice, through the inferior throng I clove
Of the plain Burghers, who, in audience stood
On the last skirts of their permitted ground,
Under the pealing organ. Empty thoughts!
I am asham’d of them; and that great bard
And thou, my friend! who in thy ample mind
Hast placed me high above my best deserts,
Ye will forgive the weakness of that hour,
In some of its unworthy vanities,
Brother to many more.”

It is interesting to know all this—to be assured that although Wordsworth

was in after life as temperate as Milton—drinking nothing but water, and
requiring, indeed, no stimulants but that which healthy and robust exercise
afforded—I say it is pleasant to be assured that once in his life our poet did
really link himself with the imperfections of man, and by an excess of
sympathy got drunk—or as De Quincy calls it, “boozy,”—to the honour and
glory of Milton. It is a thing to be pardoned, and is almost the only anecdote
of Wordsworth which possesses a really human interest.
 The rooms which Wordsworth occupied at St. John’s were so situated,
that had he been a hard student instead of a gay gownsman, the
circumstances which environed them might very materially have affected his
studies; for immediately below him ran the great college kitchen, which was
continually in an uproar of dissonance with the voices of cooks, and their
preparations for the eating necessities of the college members. To atone,
however, for this animal riot, the poet could look forth from his pillow by
the light

“Of moon or favouring stars,”

and there behold through the majestic windows of Trinity Chapel, the pale
statue

“Of Newton with his prism and silent face,

The marble index of a mind for ever
Voyaging through strange seas of thought, alone.”

It must not be supposed, however, from what has now been stated
respecting the gay life of Wordsworth, that he committed any of those
excesses which are so common to the undergraduates of Cambridge. He was
not a Barnwell-man, nor a Newmarket jockey, nor a gambler, nor gay,
indeed, at all, in the gross meaning of that word. He was more idle and
genial than this; and a lover of generous society. It was not in his nature,
which was always high and pure, and which had been strengthened and
solemnised by his converse with the majestic scenery of his childhood,—to
descend to the low forms of vice; on the contrary, he had always a dread,
horror, and loathing for vice, and vicious society. And, perhaps, one primal
cause of his carelessness at Cambridge, lay in his contempt for its scholastic
discipline, and for the character and conduct of its chiefs and professors. He
felt that Cambridge could teach him but little—that he was “not for that
hour, or that place,” as he himself expresses it; but for quite another hour and
another place. The dead, cold formality of its religious services,—the
absence from chapel of those who “ate the bread of the founders of the
colleges, and had sworn to administer faithfully their statutes;” whilst the
students were required, under penalties, to attend the senseless mummery;—
all these things, and others, revolted Wordsworth’s mind against them, and
made him regard the whole system, of which they were part, with distrust
and abhorrence. He thus alludes to these matters in the “Prelude:”—

“—— Spare the house of God. Was ever known

The witless shepherd who persists to drive
A flock that thirsts not to a pool disliked?
A weight must surely hang on days begun
And ended with such mockery. Be wise,
Ye Presidents and Deans, and, till the spirit
Of ancient times revive, and truth be trained
At home in pious service, to your bells
Give seasonable rest, for ’tis a sound
Hollow as ever vexed the tranquil air;
And your officious doings bring disgrace
On the plain steeples of our English church,
Whose worship, ’mid remotest village trees,
Suffers for this.”

Wordsworth felt this, at the time, very keenly, and saw what a grist it
afforded for the grinding ridicule of the scoffer and the atheist. Turning from
these melancholy reflections, to the dear old times, when men of learning
were really pious, and devoted to their scholarly functions, when

“Bacon, Erasmus, or Melancthon read

Before the doors or windows of their cells,
By moonshine, thro’ mere lack of taper-light,”

he conjures up a vision of scholastic life—a vision of the future—which

however, he says, “fell to ruin round him,” and was all in vain.
Notwithstanding the confusion of his outer circumstances, and the
general aimless tenor of his life, Wordsworth did not entirely neglect his own
culture—and in the silence of the academic groves, by the sweetly
remembered Cam, or in his own rooms in the Gothic court of St. John’s, he
brooded over the problems of life, death, and immortality. The ghosts of the
mighty dead haunted him likewise, as he walked through the familiar places,
where they were wont to walk whilst dwelling in their earthly tenements,
and roused him, at times, to commence anew the race of learning and
distinction.
 “I could not always pass
Thro’ the same gateways, sleep where they had slept,
Wake where they waked, range that enclosure old,
That garden of great intellects, undisturbed.”

And yet, with the exception of “Lines written whilst sailing up the Cam,”
Wordsworth does not seem to have composed a line at Cambridge. He was
learning, however, the first lessons of worldly wisdom all this time; was
initiated into the ways of life, and the characters of men; and such discipline
could not have been spared the poet, without loss to him. He does not regret,
he says, any experience in his college life, and thinks the gowned youth who
only misses what he missed, and fell no lower than he fell, is not a very
hopeless character.