by Avon Gale
Troy stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why I like you.”
“You know exactly why.” Shane tugged at his arm. “Because you know I’d sooner come out with a fucking ticker-tape parade than let that asshole win. Jesus, Troy. You have to know that.”
“I was pretty sure.” Troy let Shane pull him into a kiss, but he pushed away before they got distracted. “But Shane, you need to think about what you’re doing. You’re done with your career this season. I know that. But what about whatever comes next?”
“Could you get off my lap? I can’t fucking think about the future with your dick pressing into my thigh.”
“That’s my cell phone. Fucking amateur.” Troy climbed off him and sat on the couch. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Here’s the thing, Shane.” Of all the conversations he had to have—including the one where he was going to tell his boss and best friend that he was sleeping with a player—this one was perhaps the hardest. “I don’t want you to go back to San Diego. I want you to stick around. And not just so we can get caught fucking in my office either.”
“This is the most romantic moment of my whole life,” said Shane. Then he made a face. “Jesus Christ, I think I actually mean that.”
Troy crossed his arms, exposed and vulnerable and hating every goddamn second of it. “If you’re just in this for my amazing skills in the sack, then say so.”
“I like you for more than your admittedly awesome dick and lack of a gag reflex,” said Shane. He patted Troy on the back. “Don’t worry.”
“Maybe your dick’s just not big enough to make me choke,” Troy retorted.
Shane laughed. “I like you because you say this shit when you’re trying to say you want to have a relationship, so you’d like it if I stuck around.”
“I changed my mind. Cancel the parade.” Troy smiled. It felt right, and for once, he didn’t have a single urge to be contrary about it. “Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”
“Okay.” Shane reached out and took Troy’s hand in his own. “If you tell me you were just kidding about my dick.”
Troy snorted, but he noticed they were still holding hands. He squeezed. “Your cock tests my limitless gag reflex. How’s that?”
“It’ll do until you can show me exactly how that works.” Shane looked down, but he didn’t take his hand away. “I’m going to be honest. Being in a relationship scares the shit out of me, way more than the fact you’re a guy and that people will know I’m gay.”
“Well, the only significant relationship I’ve ever had is the one between my credit card and Gangbangparty.com.” Troy went serious, though that wasn’t actually a joke. “We’ve been in this relationship longer than we even admitted, so I don’t think we’re that bad at it.”
“Aw.” Shane briefly put his head on Troy’s shoulder. “Sweet-talker. Good thing you already got me in bed.” He lifted his head but stayed pressed against Troy’s side. “I hate that this happened, but I really am ready to come out. I was in the closet for a lot of reasons, and I know some of them—okay, a lot of them—were because I hated the goddamn personal narrative about how big of a failure I was. But I’m tired of not being honest about who I am.”
“Yeah, while we’re on that subject of you being a failure.” Troy’s thumb rubbed over Shane’s. “It’s bullshit. You went in the first round of the draft, you played in the NHL, and you’ve played for sixteen years in all three professional leagues. Did you win a Stanley Cup? No. Neither did I. Shit, Shane, you played almost twice as long as I did. Even when they didn’t want to sign you in San Diego, you got in your stupid death trap of a car and drove to Asheville. Late, but you got here. If that isn’t living up to your potential, I don’t know what is.” Troy was quiet for a long moment. “And when someone tried to blackmail you to end your career, you laughed. Because there’s no goddamn way you’d ever go along with it. That’s living up to your potential, Shane. Believe me. I know.”
There was a long moment of quiet, and Shane gripped Troy’s hand so hard it hurt. He was also staring down at his lap and breathing strangely. Too quickly, maybe.
“Shane? What the hell’s the matter with you?” Troy bumped him with his shoulder. “That piss you off? You can tell me. Jesus, wait. Why am I even saying that? You can, and you would, so… what is it?”
“Umm,” Shane said, his voice suspiciously choked. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Troy leaned in closer and poked at Shane’s shoulder. “Are you being emotional?”
“What the fuck do you think?” Shane still wouldn’t look up at him. “That… thanks, Troy. I’ll blow you later for that.”
“You’d do that anyway.” Troy turned Shane’s face up to his. Shane’s dark eyes were tear bright, and Troy’s own vision was a little watery. “It’s true. And I’m sorry I thought so little of you when you first got here. It wasn’t fair of me, and I was wrong.”
Shane’s eyes went wide. “You just said that so I wouldn’t cry, didn’t you?”
“It’s the truth. Also, if you’re about to cry, you won’t try and make fun of me for admitting I was wrong.”
“I’ll make fun of you the next time.” Shane gave one single sniff and then disentangled his hand to wipe surreptitiously at his eyes.
“Oh, like I’m ever going to say it again.” Troy reached out to gently massage the back of Shane’s neck. “We have to talk to Gabe. As soon as possible, before Quinn decides to just go ahead and start talking.”
“Is he gonna—I mean, is this going to get us both canned?” Shane asked. “I don’t want this to end up with us unemployed and Quinn the head coach.”
“I know Gabe Bow,” Troy assured him. “He was a goalie for a long time, and you don’t just turn that off when you get to be the GM. One reason he puts up with me is that I never try and sneak anything by him. They hate that, you know. Goalies.”
Chapter Fourteen
THEY WENT to see Gabe later that afternoon. Shane tried very hard to think about his life and what he was going to do now that the end of his career was in sight and he was in a relationship with Troy. A relationship.
Of course he could be about to get fired for said relationship. Troy was adamant it wouldn’t happen, but that was the thing about Troy. He just said something like it was fact and made it happen. Shane wouldn’t be surprised if he scored goals back in his hockey-playing days just by looking at the puck and saying, “Get in the net, goddammit.”
“Come in, come in.” Gabe waved them to have a seat. “I’m happy to see both of you, of course, but concerned what this might be about.” Before either of them could say anything, Gabe looked sternly at Troy and said, “I was under the impression you and Mr. North were getting along a lot better, now, Cally.”
“Oh, we are.” Troy sat down in one of the chairs and looked completely comfortable. “Definitely.”
“Then what’s the problem? I know you’re stubborn as fu—heck, Cally, but things are going well, aren’t they?” Gabe glanced between them. “As well as they can go with you and other people, I mean.”
“Okay. First of all you can say fuck in front of me and Shane, Bowie. Actually, here, let me do it for you.” Troy cleared his throat as though he were about to make a pregame speech. “Me and Shane are fucking. Brian Quinn is a fucking asshole scumbag, and he found out about it. So he’s now trying to blackmail me into leaving after the season. After I recommend him for the head coach’s position, of course.”
There was a long moment of silence. Shane tried to pretend his face wasn’t on fire, and Troy looked over at him and said, “I leave anything out, Shane?”
“Umm.” Shane resisted the urge to murder him. “I don’t think so. Other than I still kind of hate you.”
“But the two of you are involved.” Gabe’s deep voice didn’t give away so much as a hint of whatever he was feeling about Troy’s incredibly graceless announcement. “As in, sexually?”
Oh, God. Shane slumped down in his seat when Troy started snickering. “Could you not?” he
hissed and kicked Troy in the ankle. “Dude, he’s our boss.”
“He’s also my best friend who’s known me for twenty-something years. And that’s a stupid question, Gabe. What other kind of involved would we be?”
“Maybe you’ve developed a friendship based on your mutual love of jigsaw puzzles,” said Gabe, straight faced.
“No,” hissed Shane. “We have not.”
Gabe leaned back in his seat, and he suddenly looked very pleased with himself. “Oh my God. Why didn’t I see this happening? Maybe I did. You’re welcome for bringing in a good influence for the locker room and a boyfriend, Troy. Wait until I tell Monica.” His smile was full of affection. “That I’ve lived to see this day. Aw.”
“Hey, Bowie? Can you cut the sentimental crap for a second?” Troy broke in. “I’m glad you’re happy for me. I really am. And I’ll drag Shane to dinner and let Monica make fun of me if you want. But right now we do have a fucking problem.”
“Yes, tell me. Exactly how did Brian Quinn find out about this? You two run into him on a date?”
“Uh.” Shane glanced at Troy, at a loss how to answer in a way that didn’t embarrass the hell out of them both.
Troy didn’t appear to have Shane’s sense of decorum, nor did he seem to care about embarrassing anyone. “It depends on what you count as a ‘date.’ And if you can have one on the bus. And in the locker room after a game.”
“Oh, Cally,” Gabe sighed. “Does he have evidence?”
God, Shane hoped to hell not. Though, if he had a video recording of that time in Troy’s office…. Jesus, he shouldn’t think about that.
“Does he need it? I’m not gonna deny it.” Troy’s eyes flickered over and met Shane’s. “Not this time.”
There was a wealth of meaning in that statement. It made Shane stare down at his knees for a minute to keep his emotions under control.
“What about you?” Gabe turned his attention to Shane. “No one should be forced to come out until they’re ready, and I won’t let anyone—even my well-meaning friend, here—make you. If this is something you’d prefer to keep on the down-low, then your decision will be respected.”
That was nice to hear. “I’m fine with coming out. It’s time.” Shane sat up straighter in his seat. “I’m ready, and I swear the only reservation I have is that it might mess up something for the team, or for you, Mr. Bow. I… I don’t think I’ve said this, but thank you for the contract. I don’t know what you saw in me that made you want me on your team, but I’m really, really grateful. I hope my—well, this thing with Troy hasn’t made you think less of me.”
Shane hated saying things like that to people, especially because he couldn’t follow it up with sex banter like he did with Troy. He meant every word, though, and he wanted Gabe to know just how much he did appreciate the chance he’d been given to play for the Ravens. The season hadn’t gone the way he’d imagined. Hell, it hadn’t gone the way he thought he wanted. But the chance to end his career on his terms, and as himself, was invaluable.
The scowling boyfriend was pretty okay too. Or would be after Shane got over the embarrassment of hearing him discuss their sex life with their boss.
“It doesn’t make me think less of you at all.” Gabe smiled kindly at him. “And you’re welcome. As for the reason I wanted you on the team…. You have a lot of integrity, Shane. I could see it in you when you played for the Ducks, and I’ve seen it in you all season. And now, even though I know Cally is embarrassing the hell out of you. But for the love of God, just call me Gabe. Or Bowie.”
Shane didn’t think he could manage “Bowie,” but Gabe might be okay. Maybe. “Okay, Gabe. Thank you.”
“If you’re amenable, then I think I’ll discuss this with Monica,” Gabe continued. “What I think we should do, honestly, is set things in motion before we confront Quinn. Then it will be too late. I’m hopeful that we can get Quinn to drop this and move along quietly, but in case he doesn’t….” Gabe looked hard at Shane. “We have to make sure we’re handling the issue of your relationship as professionally as possible. Especially if it becomes necessary to address the media.”
Which meant either he had to stop playing or Troy had to stop coaching. Since Troy would probably be coaching hockey on his deathbed, that left only one option. Shane had known that was likely the minute they walked in the door. “I understand. That’s fine.”
Gabe gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry that it has to be this way, Shane. You’ll be compensated as per the terms of your contract, of course.”
It was strange to think his last game had come and gone, but Shane was actually glad. No fuss, no pressure. It also meant no last skate, but he’d still get his victory lap. Just not on the ice. And wasn’t that what he was in Asheville for? “Of course.”
“Wait. Someone want to clue me in here?” Troy looked annoyed. “I hate when I don’t know something.”
Of course Troy, who saw only surmountable obstacles, wouldn’t understand. “It means I’m done playing, Troy,” Shane said. “As of today I’m retired.”
“What?” Troy’s scowl was dark as thunderclouds. “It does not mean that. What the hell are you talking about?”
“Actually, yes it does.” Gabe talked over Troy’s belligerence with obvious ease. “Troy, be sensible for a second. You can’t be Shane’s coach if there’s even a possibility we have to make your relationship public before the end of the season.”
Troy was on his feet in all his angry, blustering glory as he strode around Gabe’s office like he was behind the bench. “I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to let Brian fucking Quinn take Shane’s last game away from him.”
Jesus, he was so dramatic. Shane exchanged a look with Gabe, who gave a half shake of his head and shrugged in a “feel free to deal with him” gesture. Lucky him.
Shane stood up from his chair. “Cally, get a grip,” he said bluntly. “This isn’t about what happened to you, and it isn’t about me either. Think about the team. Okay? You’ve had me skating on the second line for entire games. If I’m still playing and the team finds out we’re involved, what do you think they’re gonna assume? That I’m good at hockey or good in bed?”
Troy’s brows drew together in a scowl, and with the sharp point of his widow’s peak, he looked a bit like an exceptionally angry anime character. All he needed was the little red symbol thing flashing over his head. “Both? Because they’re true. And they should know me well enough to know I wouldn’t put you on the ice at all if you sucked, regardless of how you sucked.”
God, Shane was going to die of embarrassment before the day was over. There was no denying he was touched by Troy’s concern for his feelings, which of course manifested in a temper tantrum. But it wasn’t helping anything, and Shane also knew it wasn’t just about him. Troy might think he was over the whole thing with St. Savoy, and Shane thought he was, for the most part, but the vehemence of his reaction was telling.
Then again, it was Troy. Vehement reactions were his specialty. Shane walked over and put his hand on Troy’s arm. “Hey. Would you stop and think about this like a rational human? We worked hard to get to this point, Troy. You worked hard. All of those guys trust you, and that didn’t come easy. I don’t want them feeling like yet another coach has lied to them, and I know you don’t want that either.”
“I’ve had you on the second line because your forechecking and your puck management skills are way better than Moore’s,” Troy snapped. His arms were crossed over his chest, his muscles tense beneath Shane’s hand, but he didn’t shrug Shane away. “I’ve never once let my involvement with you influence my fucking game decisions, and you goddamn know it. Both of you. And if you compare me to that asshole St. Savoy—”
“I’m not,” Shane interrupted, teeth gritted. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared momentarily out the window in Gabe’s office. “Jesus, Troy. You know I’m not. But do you wanna fuck everything up just ’cause you’re fucking me?”
Troy stepped for
ward and got all in Shane’s space. Then he grabbed Shane by both shoulders and shook him. Not hard, but enough to suggest he’d maybe like to do it harder. “I’m not just fucking you, idiot. I’m in love with you.”
The office went silent. Shane went stock-still and gave Troy a dazed expression as the words sank in. Troy was in love with him. Well, of course he was. Troy got angry about hockey, and he loved hockey. And that’s why he was so mad on Shane’s behalf.
Some of Shane’s annoyance evaporated, but he couldn’t help the snort of laughter as Troy dropped his hands from Shane’s shoulders. “Of course the first time you said that to me, it’d be dramatic as possible. Of course it would be.”
Troy didn’t look embarrassed or concerned in the least. He actually looked like he was ready and waiting for Shane to argue about it. “You do know me pretty well. Yeah.”
“And I love you anyway.” Shane couldn’t say he wasn’t a little embarrassed at saying it back in front of someone else. Though what other option did he have? He did love Troy. It turned out that falling in love wasn’t as hard as he’d always thought it would be, when it was with the right person. “God help me,” he added.
“Well, you’re a contrary motherfucker, North.” Troy’s smile was reserved, private, and for some reason, it made Shane’s eyes prick with sudden heat. “And I still don’t think you have to sit out the rest of the season just ’cause I gave you my letterman’s jacket.”
“Wait. You don’t really have one of those, do you?” Gabe asked from his desk. “Did you even get a letterman’s jacket, Cally? I thought your grades in high school were terrible.”
“It wouldn’t fit me even if he did have one.” Shane grinned and did the “brush your shoulders off” gesture. He couldn’t help it. He might be concerned about the situation, feel vaguely murderous about Troy’s emotional outbursts, and still not be sure what the hell he was going to do next season… but goddamn if he wasn’t happy. “I have way broader shoulders than he does. Even when I was seventeen.”