Changes Coming Down

by Kaje Harper

The interview wasn’t too bad. They talked about Will and Casey’s coming out at Christmas, and about dodging the reporter after Scott’s hat trick, without lying. Scott said, “That’s the damage the closet does. I didn’t visit the men I love for three months, so they could truthfully say we weren’t sharing a bed when people asked. We had to either be apart, or lie about something vitally important to us, and both choices sucked.”

  “So the ranch is more than an investment to you?”

  “It’s home,” Scott said. “As long as it’s where Will and Casey live.”

  Randy turned to Will and Casey. “Now tell me about yourselves.” Whenever Randy’s questions strayed out of bounds, Scott stepped in, saying “That’s private,” or “You don’t have to answer that, Will.” After ten minutes he called a halt. “Enough, Randy. You have your exclusive. Go edit it to make me look good.”

  “I’ll try. Will you watch the show tomorrow morning when this airs?”

  “If I have the nerve.” Scott chuckled and held out his hand. “Thanks for doing this my way.” He looked tired, but calm.

  “Thank you for the interview.” Randy eyed them for a minute. “Hey, this bombshell is still secret, but I’d bet there are other reporters out there looking for a soundbite with the only Calder finalist who actually speaks English. Are you up for that, or do you want a private way out of here?”

  “I’d pay good money for one,” Scott said.

  “Free to you. Just promise me a follow-up interview sometime?”

  “If you can do it on horseback, because that’s where I plan to spend the next month.”

  Randy laughed. “I’ll take lessons.” He gestured. “This way.”

  Will only relaxed when the cameraman closed his lens cover. They followed Randy through the backstage area. One guy seemed inclined to challenge them, but Randy had some kind of magic power because they were allowed past. Finally he opened a door to reveal the alley at the back of the theater. “I used to work here. There you go. Parking ramp that way”

  Scott took a deep breath. “Thanks again.”

  “This’ll be my lead story tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay.”

  They wandered through the parking ramp until they located their car. The lot was mostly cleared out, and no one approached them. Casey took the keys out of Scott’s hand. “I’ll play chauffeur. You two get in the back together.”

  “I’m not some kind of invalid.”

  “Nope. You’re a celebrity. Now do what I tell you for once.”

  Will thought it was a measure of how tired Scott was that he opened the back door without further complaint.

  Will got in the other side, moved to the middle seat, leaned over, and pulled Scott to him. Scott came limply, without resisting. Casey said from the front, “You got him, Will?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That was fucking scary,” Scott said faintly.

  “Well, it’s thoroughly done now.” Will kissed his hair. “You don’t have to do that again. Most of us barely crack the closet door, the first time. You napalmed yours.”

  “What about you?” Scott said. “We know how Casey came out to his mom the first time—we were there— but what about you? Did you ever tell anyone, back when you were younger, before Nita and the guys?”

  “Yeah. Told a parent, of sorts.” He stopped there.

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say it didn’t go well. That’s why I never told the Slaters.”

  “I have to call my mom and dad. I was hoping they’d make it out here so I could do it in person, but Dad wasn’t up to the trip.”

  “In the morning,” Casey suggested. “Call early, before that interview goes live. Skype, maybe. But let’s keep tonight for just us. Remind you why this is all worth it.”

  “We have a smart boyfriend,” Scott murmured into Will’s shoulder.

  “Yep.”

  “I’m taking us back to our hotel,” Casey said. “We’ll avoid yours. I think you need a hot bath and a good long massage by a couple of amateurs.”

  “I could go for that.”

  “We’ll get clean, and then go to bed and fuck until none of us can move. And then we’ll sleep together in the same bed.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Scott agreed.

  “And then tomorrow we’ll get your stuff from your room, and do it again.”

  “And again the next night,” Will added, tightening his arm around Scott until that big hard body was smooshed alongside his. He wanted to pull Scott inside him and keep him safe. He’d bet Scott’s parents, fans, media, team management, and everyone would want a piece of Scotty down the road. This wasn’t over. It was really just beginning. But at least they’d deal with it together. “We’ll keep the stress relief on tap for you.”

  “Yeah.” Scott wiggled closer in against his side. “Did I mention that was fucking scary?”

  “Could’ve been worse.” Casey steered around a stopped car, then picked up speed. “You could’ve won the damned trophy and said all that out on the stage.”

  Scott laughed, and under the tired and the shaky and the sad, Will thought he heard a new note. Something freer than he’d ever heard from Scott before.

  “I could’ve been Rookie of the Year,” Scott said. “What a disaster that would have been.”

  As they drove through the neon-lit city, heading for one room and one bed and one life, Will thought an observer might have been excused for wondering why they were chortling like hyenas. But anyone who’d ever exposed an unpopular personal truth to the unforgiving light of day would have understood. Sometimes you just had to laugh.

  Scott’s head was against Will’s shoulder. Casey’s hands were steady on the wheel. And Will knew, with everything that was in him, that as long as they could face the future together, they would be just fine.

  Excerpt from

  Changes Going On (Changes Book 2)

  – releasing in spring 2020.

  Chapter 1

  Scott Edison jolted awake and froze in the unfamiliar bed, his heart racing, listening. All was quiet. At his back, Will’s long, lean body gave off a comfortable heat. In front of him, Casey lay sprawled, the shortest guy taking up more than half the space. Scott peered at Casey in the dim light, listening for a sharp breath or whimper. Casey’s nightmares from his years in the Marine Corps sometimes hit hard, and they’d learned to wake him carefully. Nothing. Casey slept peacefully

  Scott’s heart slowed from whatever the nightmare had been. He nudged Casey’s leg over to make space, and pushed his butt back against Will, luxuriating in having both his men with him in bed. His ass twinged, the pain reminding him he’d asked to get well pounded last night so— so I wouldn’t remember I’m coming out as gay and poly to the whole fucking world today.

  His gut cramped, bile rising. Trying not to wake the guys, he scrambled down off the foot of the bed and into the hotel bathroom. Three steps to the toilet and he hit his knees, dry-heaving. He hadn’t eaten much yesterday, between nerves about being up for the Calder Trophy and much bigger, Godzilla nerves about what he’d planned afterward. I told that TV reporter everything. I exposed Casey and Will and me. Acid stung his throat and he coughed.

  Casey stepped in behind him and bent to rub his back, strong hands warm on his shoulder blades. “Hey, Scotty, you okay?”

  “Sure,” he lied, sitting back on his heels and grabbing tissue to wipe his mouth. “No, not really.”

  “Maybe you could call the reporter and ask him not to release the video.”

  “Hah. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t put it out early.” His interview was scheduled for the morning sports roundup. From the pale light filtering through the crack in the curtains, that was just a few hours away.

  Casey filled a glass of water, passed it to him, and flushed the john. “Tell me how to help.”

  Will said from the doorway, “Me too. G’mornin’, Scott.”

  Not much good about it. Except for the part where he was now finally out,
and he could hug his men and go home with them and get into their bed— his shared bed— without freaking about someone finding out. That was no small thing. He rinsed his mouth, spat, and held up a hand.

  Casey tugged him to his feet and into a firm hug. Will moved close and they both wrapped him in. For a moment, he could close his eyes and feel the three of them tucked together in a sweaty, morning-breath-and-stale-cum smoosh that was exactly what he needed. He tightened his arms until Casey grunted.

  “What now?” Casey asked when they broke apart.

  “You guys should head back to bed. It’s early freaking o’clock.”

  “It’s two hours later for us. We’re fine.” Will nudged Scott’s elbow. “You should have a shower.”

  “I reek, don’t I?”

  “None of us smell like flowers but I think you need it most.” Will grabbed the little bottles of shampoo and bodywash off the counter. “Here. And I’ll grab a pair of my shorts for you.”

  “Ack. No luggage.” His stuff was in his own hotel room two blocks away. “Jesus, I should go get it before the news breaks. One more thing to do.” He rubbed between his eyes where a headache was building. “But phone calls first. What time is it?”

  “It’s just five,” Casey said. “Seven a.m. for your folks and four for your hockey team. You have time to get clean first. If you give me your keycard, I’ll go get your stuff from your room while you shower.”

  “I can’t ask you to drive across town at five freaking—”

  Casey put a thumb on Scott’s lips. “First, it’s a few fucking blocks, not dogsled to Alaska. Second, if I can do anything to make today easier, you’d better let me.”

  “Okay.” He couldn’t fight the look in Casey’s eyes, didn’t want to. “The card’s in my pants pocket.”

  “Have a shower. I’ll be back soon.” Casey slipped out the door.

  Will gave Scott a sweet smile, the one Scott had worked hard to earn since that first night in a dim-lit bar. “I’ll get you some shorts. Hey, unlimited hot water.”

  “Yeah.” Scott waited till Will closed the door, then stepped into the tub, moving stiffly. The showerhead was wimpy but the warm flow over his sticky chest and groin was so welcome. He closed his eyes and let the water stream over him, face to toes, turning to breathe through the steam. Opening his mouth, he rinsed out the taste of sleep and stale sex. Eventually, he rotated and washed his ass carefully, wincing at the sting of soap. He’d have to sit carefully for a couple of days. Good thing they weren’t heading out to ride at the ranch. I wish we were at the ranch.

  The water kept flowing hot but in this desert town he felt guilty about using so much. He shut it off, got out, and dabbed at his butthole with a tissue. There were a couple of tiny drops of blood but not enough to worry about. He rummaged through Will’s ziplock bag for the anesthetic ointment and was recapping the tube when Will opened the door.

  “Here’s some clean shorts— oh!” Will bit his lip. “Were we too rough?”

  “Perfect rough.” He set the tube down and went to kiss his man. “Exactly what I needed, and I remember begging for it. No regrets.” He hadn’t been drunk last night, but between the mix of need and adrenaline and fear and delight, he didn’t remember all the details. Still, he knew he’d demanded every forceful, perfect moment of what he’d got.

  Will kissed him back but kept some body distance. “My turn for the shower if you’re done?”

  “Sure.”

  The main room smelled of sex and sweat. Scott pulled on the borrowed jockey shorts, a loose pair for Will that fit strainingly snug across his own skater’s ass. He slid open the balcony door. The sun was still below the horizon but a gold glow behind the buildings showed where it was about to emerge. He took a breath of fresh air— well, city air, like any other city, basically. Seven-thirty down in Florida. His mom would be up, no doubt. His dad used to rise early, but since the heart attack he’d been taking it easier, so he might still be in bed.

  The TV sports show he’d taped his coming out for yesterday would air at ten AM local. I could still call and beg the show to not run the spot. Offer them a different interview or a live call-in show or— He cut off the frantic thoughts in his head. He was done hiding. Trying to back down would just make it look like he was scared, or ashamed. There was a reason he’d made his first move one he couldn’t take back.

  No more hiding.

  The shower cut off. A minute later he felt Will at his shoulder, breath warm against his neck. “Pretty sky.”

  “Real pretty.” Colors chased each other across the clouds, crimson edges turning paler as the sun came up.

  “A few days, and we’ll all be sharing sunrises at home.”

  “You and Casey might. I plan to sleep in and be lazy for a month.”

  Will nudged his shoulder. “Go on telling yourself that. We’re gonna get some work out of you.”

  They watched the colors change and lighten, fading into the blue of a sunny day.

  Eventually Will murmured, “You figure your parents will be upset with you?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. They won’t be Bible-thumping and preaching hellfire because I’m gay, but Dad’ll be worried about my career.” Or angry about the risk of losing it. Probably both. “They sacrificed a lot to get me where I am now.”

  “With the second-worst team in the NHL?”

  He dug an elbow back into Will’s ribs. “Hey! We beat the Glaciers.”

  “Wow. Better than the worst team in the NHL.”

  He stifled a laugh and leaned enough to feel Will’s support against his shoulder. He waited for Will to say something wise about how his parents couldn’t expect him to hide who he was forever, but as the quiet moments passed, he realized that wasn’t Will. The steady support behind his shoulder blade was.

  “Did you ever come out to someone important?” He realized how dumb that sounded immediately. “I mean, of course you did. The ranch hands. Duh.”

  “Not sure that’s the same.”

  “Huh?”

  “I was the big dog in that conversation. If one of ’em didn’t like the gay, they were losing their job, not me. And sure, I cared what they thought of me, well, most of ’em, but I don’t love them the way you love your folks. So it was easier.”

  “I guess.”

  After a moment, Will said slowly, “I did come out to a foster parent, one time. Heat of the moment, kind of.”

  Scott kept his reaction to a hum of encouragement. Will almost never talked about his life before the Tri-Cross ranch, like he was born as a skinny, broke seventeen-year-old on Graham Slater’s front porch.

  “Didn’t go well.” Will said. “Wasn’t going to mention it.”

  Scott repeated the hum, shifting his weight to make solid contact with Will, until Will wrapped an arm around him to keep them balanced.

  Will’s voice came soft and even. “Foster sister was a lesbian, and it was bad. She ran away, eventually. I told them I was gay too, and two hours later I was gone. Never did find her.”

  Scott turned away from the window intending to hug Will, but Will took a step backward.

  “I kept it on the down low for a long time after that. If it’s any use, I do wish I’d told the Slaters. Turns out they knew, but I wish I’d been the one to tell them.”

  Scott had seen the letter Graham and Annmarie left for Will, revealed after their hit-and-run murder, where they gently told him they knew about the three of them. Will had missed out on spending real no-hiding time with the two people he’d loved the most. There was a wistful ache in his voice that Scott ached to fix.

  Then don’t wimp out on your parents. “That does help, thank you.” He hadn’t been as close to his folks in recent years. No doubt some of the distance was from all the important things he couldn’t even mention to them. If Dad had died from his recent heart attack, he’d never have known who Scott really was or who he loved. Of course, he’d never have been angry and disappointed in me, either…

 
The door opened and Casey came in with Scott’s suitcase and garment bag in his hands. “I think I got everything. Jesus, Scotty, for as much as you travel, you sure do spread your stuff around a room.”

  “I have a system.”

  “Sure you do.”

  Will took the garment bag from Casey and hung it in the closet next to Scott’s rumpled awards-day jacket. Scott glanced around the room. Sure enough, most of the evidence of their rush to get each other naked had been cleared away. His phone was sitting over on the little desk. Someone had hooked it up to the juice. The screen lit up when he bumped it, challenging him with his contact list. He tapped the home button. 5:43 AM. Sunny. 73º.

  7:43 at his folks’ place.

  Heart attack or no, Dad would be up by eight. Maybe best to let him have his breakfast first. Scott set the phone back down.

  Will set Scott’s suitcase onto the rack and tossed briefs, a pair of cargo shorts, and a polo shirt on the bed. “You probably want to be wearing something more than my boxers when you call your folks.”

  “Hell, yeah. Your skinny-ass shorts are chafing me.”

  Casey cupped a hand under Scott’s ass cheek. “Wouldn’t want that.” Scott turned and nuzzled Casey’s neck, breathing in his scent. Worth all of it.

  He gathered up the clothes and his toiletries case, and retreated to the bathroom. Getting dressed and styling his hair and brushing his teeth ate up some time, until he realized he was mechanically brushing his gums to bleeding. Idiot. He gargled mouthwash, swallowing the peppermint burn against the renewed bile in his throat. Coward. But in all his years, he’d never seriously fallen short of Dad’s expectations.

  He met his own eyes in the mirror, straightened his shoulders, and raised his chin. He’d done scary shit before. He’d stick-handled toward two-hundred-and-fifty-pound defensemen who planned to smear him against the boards. He’d helped wrangle an angry two-thousand-pound bull. Full speed ahead was his style. This should be no different.

  In the main room, Casey was bent over his phone and Will stared out the window. They both pretended to be fascinated with their views, but Scott could feel their attention on him. He picked up his phone and touched Mom’s contact. “Hey, good morning.”