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Rusty woke to the chirble of Cross’s new phone, an unfamiliar generic ring tone. He grunted and rolled over. At some point in the night, maybe after they’d shared a midnight bowl of reheated chili, they’d swapped places and Cross now lay sprawled across him, his good leg thrown over Rusty’s thighs.

Rusty nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, dude, phone.”

“Ugh.” Cross fumbled on the nightstand and looked at the screen. “Damn. My agent.” He rolled off Rusty and sat up to answer. “Yes, Sam? What’s up at seven in the morning?”

Rusty was about to pull the pillow over his head and try for more Zs when Cross snapped, “What? Fuck!”

Rusty stuffed the pillow behind him instead and mouthed, “What?” at Cross.

“I’m putting you on speaker,” Cross said.

“With who?” the guy on the other end asked.

“Seems like you know who,” Cross growled.

“So this isn’t just a rumor? You are dating a man?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Rusty Dolan of the Eugene Gryphons?”

“Yes.” Cross glanced at Rusty. “Say hi to the nice agent.”

Rusty reminded himself he’d need an agent if he was going to sign a higher league contract and confined himself to, “Hi.”

“Mr. Dolan. Do you have representation?”

“Uh, no sir. Not yet.”

Cross told his agent, “If you’re good with representing two queer clients, I can put in a word for you, Sam. He’s going to be one hell of a player.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a conflict of interest.”

“How? What’s good for him is good for me. In fact, it’d be more conflict to be working against some other agent of Rusty’s.”

“Okay, well, we can discuss it in the future.” Sam sounded a little distant. “Right now, we need to talk about this publicity nightmare that’s about to descend on you.”

“What nightmare?” Cross glanced at Rusty who tried to hide the way his gut was turning to ice. “I’m dating a wonderful man and we’re very happy. End of story.”

“A fellow player, for all the complications that will cause,” Sam pointed out. “And one who somehow got you kidnapped?”

“Oh, hell, no. Rusty had nothing to do with that.” Cross glared at the phone. “Where did you get that story?”

“It appears that one of the men arrested yesterday for some kind of crime against you decided to sell his story to a tabloid. The piece came out in the paper this morning and it doesn’t paint your, um, boyfriend in a very flattering light.”

Rusty burst out, “Oh, fuck Tyler Wellington with a rusty chainsaw! Motherfucker!” His chest ached. I did this to Cross. If I hadn’t dated that weasel, or if I’d dealt with his threats on my own and not involved Cross… Although then he and Cross might’ve never gotten together.

Cross grabbed Rusty’s hand and wove their fingers together, squeezing firmly. “Anything Wellington says is a lie. He vandalized, stalked, and then kidnapped Rusty. Who’s going to believe him?”

“Unfortunately, social media has jumped on the story. There are pictures of the two of you circulating, and reports that Dolan was seen at your rehab center and at your house.”

“Well, he is my boyfriend.”

“So you say, and it’s going to be very hard to put that genie back in the bottle.”

Rusty leaned toward the phone. “I’m out already. Ever since my dad told the whole church congregation to pray for his homosexual son to see the light.”

“Uh, okay,” Sam mumbled. “But Cross wasn’t out as anything LGBTQ.”

“I guess I am now,” Cross said, actually smiling. He seemed happier about that than Rusty would’ve imagined. “I should’ve come out when Scotty did, but I had things to work through. The best time was then, but the second-best time is now.”

“You really want to support this story?”

“The queer part, sure.” Cross gave Rusty’s hand another squeeze. “Probably not any of the rest, but I’d need to read it.”

“How the hell did that get out in the first place?” Rusty demanded. “Isn’t Tyler still in jail? How could he talk to the press?”

“His lawyer smuggled the story out to sell, I’d bet.” Sam sounded disgusted. “Making sure he got paid, probably.”

“Makes sense. Tyler’s broke ass wasn’t going to afford a lawyer otherwise.” Rusty hated that their relationship was going to pay to help the guy who fucking kidnapped them. That felt like an extra kick in the nuts.

Cross asked his agent, “What do you suggest now?”

“You’ll want to call the Rafters, if you haven’t told them already. Then make a statement. I can arrange for a news conference later, if you like. I’ll try to load it with gay-friendly media.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let me know when and where.”

“Do you want it to be just you, Cross, or the two of you?”

Cross raised an eyebrow at Rusty.

The last thing Rusty wanted was more publicity as the token queer.

He just wanted to play hockey. But he also wasn’t letting his boyfriend take on the world without him.

“Whatever you want, babe. I’ll be proud to be beside you, or you can keep me in the background. Whatever’ll make it easier on you.”

Cross told Sam, “We’re a package deal. We’ll do this together.”

“Okay, I’ll set it up and text you the info. I got this number from someone in your organization. Is this the best contact?”

“Yeah. Lost my old phone. Use this one. And Sam?”

“Yes?”

“ Are you comfortable representing a queer player?”

“If you’re comfortable with me pointing out realities. My sister’s a lesbian. I personally support you. But as your agent, I have to tell you not everyone will. I expect to hear from a couple of your sponsors, any time now.”

Cross’s laugh sounded bitter. “Scott Edison’s my friend. I’m pretty in touch with the realities. I also don’t need their money. So sure, if anyone wants to drop me, let them know that’s fine, although I will mention their choice on my social media.”

“You think it’s wise to blackmail your sponsors?”

“Explain it as very logical social consequences, not blackmail. And you know what? I don’t give a damn. Like I said, I don’t need their money. If choosing between a queer athlete or the backlash of visibly ditching a queer athlete makes them sweat, let it.”

“What about your, um, boyfriend? Is he onboard with that? If you’re not playing nice with sponsors, they won’t take a chance on him later on.”

Rusty said clearly, “If they’re going to ditch Cross for being queer, they’re not going to ever look at my gay ass. I’ve got his back.”

Cross added, “It’s not like my boyfriend’s going to need their money either.”

Rusty flashed him a frown because fuck, they were going to have words about that. But now was not the time.

“All right,” Sam said. “I’ll make your position clear.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’ll let you know when we have a press conference set up. I’ll coordinate with Rafters management so you’ll want to call them before I do.”

“I’ll do that. Touch base with my security too. I know you have Ms. Nelson’s number.”

“I do. And Cross?”

“Yes?”

“Congratulations on coming out. I’m being a hard-ass about your money, because that’s my job. But for every queer kid out there wondering if they can play? Thank you.”

“Oh.” Cross sat staring blankly at his phone as the call ended.

Rusty scooted closer so he could wrap his arm around Cross. “I guess you’re doing this, huh?”

“Guess so.”

“I’m really sorry. If I hadn’t dated Tyler—”

“Nope. Don’t go there.” Cross turned and delivered a fast, closed-mouth kiss. “If you hadn’t, when I blew out my ankle, I’d have had no one to turn to. I’d have still thought my tepid affection for Willow was as close to love as I’d ever get. So no regrets.”

“Okay.” Rusty kissed Cross’s temple where the hair was receding into distinguished peaks.

“No regrets. Except that you have to call your team, and then we have breakfast with your parents.” That reminder got his heart pounding faster than the agent’s phone call.

“Oh hell. Unless you want to cancel?” He was about to meet Cross’s mother as the guy who outed him to the world.

“Not unless you do? If you don’t feel up to it?”

“You want to go, though?”

“I do. You’ll like my mom. She’s nothing like my dad.”

“Okay. Today is all your call.”

“No, it’s not.” Cross caught Rusty’s arm as he moved to get out of bed. “We’re a team. That means you get a say in everything that affects us together. Right down to whether we let my dad make more of an ass of himself over eggs Benedict or not.”

“Eggs which?”

“Poached eggs, muffin, ham, white sauce. They’re good and the Silver Regency does them very well. Almost worth the Dad-lecture by themselves.”

“Oh, well, then. Sounds like something I shouldn’t miss.

After I wash my ass.” Rusty made his escape to the bathroom, clothes and phone in hand, which…

escape wasn’t quite the right word, but he needed a bit of breathing room.

When he was plastered up against Cross, the most ridiculous things seemed possible. This was a lot, though.

He eyed his phone. Yes? No? He could call Scotty, thought about it. But Cross might want to have Scott’s support himself. Instead, he called Will.

“Yeah? What’s wrong, kid?” Will asked, clearly wide awake. Which of course he was, because ranch work started at dawn and Kansas was two hours later.

“Um, Cross and me got…” He couldn’t say kidnapped without going into a lot more detail than he had time for, hiding here in the bathroom. “Got in a mess and anyhow, he’s been outed on social media as dating me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Does Scotty know?”

“Probably not unless Cross is calling him now. It literally just happened.”

“What can I do?” Will’s steady tones slowed Rusty’s pounding heart.

“I don’t know. Not much. I just needed to talk to someone.”

“Of course. I’ve been there, I know how scary being outed is.”

“I was already out.”

“Not the way you will be dating Cross, though, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He’d wanted to pretend that all his anxiety was for Cross, but really, yeah, he was scared of the coming media circus too. “What if this is too messy for the Tornados? Or the Rafters?”

Will chuckled. “Not sure you can get more messy than Scott and the two of us, gay and poly, and they managed that fine.”