Title: Like Real People Do
Series: Breakaway, Book One
Author: E.L. Massey
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 08/23/2022
Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex
Length: 88800
Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, gay, interracial, new adult, sports, ice hockey, uni student, ice skating, professional athlete, slow burn, rivals/enemies to lovers, physical disability, anxiety disorder, in the closet, coming out, service dog, cooking/foodies, Louboutin devotion, stanning, friends to lovers, social media, vlogging, hashtags
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Description
Nineteen-year-old hockey phenom Alexander Price is the youngest-ever captain in the NHL. With a polarizing social media presence and a predilection for dirty play, he typifies the stereotype of young, out-of-control athlete. But away from the cameras, Alex is a kid with an anxiety disorder and the expectations of an expansion franchise on his shoulders. And maybe he tries too hard to fit the part of asshole playboy, but it’s better than the alternative; in his line of work, gay is the punchline of an insult, not something he can be.
Eighteen-year-old vlogger Elijah Rodriguez is a freshman in college recovering from an injury that derailed his Olympic figure-skating dreams. Mixed-race, disabled, and out of the closet since he was fourteen, Eli is unapologetically himself. He has no qualms about voicing his disapproval of celebrity jocks who make homophobic jokes on Twitter and park their flashy cars in the handicapped spaces outside of ice rinks.
After an antagonistic introduction, Alex and Eli’s inexplicable friendship both baffles and charms the internet. But navigating relationships is hard enough for normal teenagers. It’s a lot harder when the world—much of it disapproving—is watching you fall in love with your best friend.
Like Real People Do
E.L. Massey © 2022
All Rights Reserved
“What do you know about Louboutins?” Alex asks, and it takes Jeff a moment to adjust to the conversational whiplash.
“Uh. You mean the brand?”
“I mean the shoes. The, uh, high heels.”
“Oh. Well, they’re expensive as hell and, apparently, the shit if you’re into that sort of thing? Jo has a pair. You have to send them to a special place to get the red bottoms repainted every now and then. It’s ridiculous. Worth it though.”
“Why?”
“Why’s it worth it?”
“Yeah.”
“She adores them, for one thing. Also, her legs look amazing in them. And her ass. And I can’t think of a single time that she’s worn them where I haven’t gotten laid at the end of the night, so.”
“Positive association?” Alex says dryly.
“Definitely. Why the sudden interest in couture footwear?”
“Where do you buy them? Can I just order a pair online?”
Jeff leaves his bag on the counter and moves into the living room to make sure Alex knows Jeff is frowning at him. “You realize not answering the question just makes me more suspicious, right? Is this your way of telling me you have a thing for female-coded footwear? Because I love and support you and all that, but your ankles are worth several million dollars, and no offense, you really don’t have the coordination to walk in heels. We could find you some nice flats though. Strappy sandals? At least until the off-season.”
“Oh my god, they’re not for me,” Alex says. “Not,” he hastily adds, “that there would be anything wrong with that. If they were.”
“Okay,” Jeff says slowly.
They stare at each other for several seconds.
Alex sighs. “Eli wants some.”
“And there we go.”
“He’s always wanted a pair.”
“I should have guessed.”
“Him and Cody both.”
“Why didn’t I guess? It seems obvious now.”
“Jeff.”
“Hmm?”
“Is that weird? If I buy them for him?”
“Yeah, probably. I mean—those are definitely Sex Shoes, and you two aren’t having sex, so.”
“They are not sex shoes.”
Jeff makes a derisive noise. “You know what they look like, right? Picture Eli wearing them with one of those little pairs of shorts he likes and tell me those are Very Platonic Gift for Your Bro shoes.”
“He said he’d cook in them,” Alex blurts out, ears pink.
Jeff has no idea what that has to do with anything, but clearly Alex is embarrassed about whatever it is in his head that’s prompted the admission. “Okay?”
“So. I have been, uh, picturing that.”
“Oh,” Jeff says. “Oh, kid. I thought you said you weren’t—”
“I’m not. I can’t. I just—” Alex exhales as if it hurts. “I want to.”
“This is bigger than shoes,” Jeff points out.
“Yeah.”
“You really like him.”
“Yeah,” Alex repeats.
“I mean, I don’t know if it helps, but I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.”
“It doesn’t.”
Jeff sits on the couch next to Alex, careful not to jostle him.
“It’s not fair,” Alex says quietly.
“No, it’s not.”
“He won’t date someone in the closet.”
Jeff leans against him, just a little, to make his presence tangible. “You can’t resent him for that.”
“I know. And I don’t. I just—I can’t—” Alex closes his eyes. “I can’t.”
“That’s okay too,” Jeff says. “But if you ever wanted to… If you ever decide to just say ‘fuck it’ and come out and screw the consequences, you know I’d be behind you 100 percent. Most of the team would.”
Alex laughs without humor. “Can you imagine the shit show? The media would be terrible, yeah. But the other teams—it’d be a miracle if I survived a month after coming out.” Alex’s voice dips, wavers a bit before leveling off again. “So many of them already hate me. I can’t imagine it being worse than it is already, but it would be.”
Jeff wants so badly to hug him but can’t.
“It’s not fair,” Alex repeats, and Jeff’s chest aches.
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E. L. Massey is a human. Probably. She lives in Austin, Texas, with her partner, the best dog in the world (an unbiased assessment), and a frankly excessive collection of books. She spends her holidays climbing mountains and writing fan fiction, occasionally at the same time.
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