Page 44 of Drop the Gloves

Evan checked his phone to make sure he was at the right place and headed into the restaurant. Amy had texted him the address and time, most recently updating him she was seated at a table in the back and had ordered appetizers.

Rubbing his palms on his pants, he scanned the tables along the back wall until he saw her strawberry-blond ponytail.

Amy Peters caught sight of him and waved him over enthusiastically, getting up to hug him when he was close enough, and Evan tried not to let his nerves show.

He remembered all the talk about him seeing his ‘girlfriend,’ and the anxiety living in his head rent-free right now was like the queasiness of going on a date, but it had nothing to do with feelings for Amy.

The guys always gave him shit for Amy ever since they’d met her two years ago and determined they were a ‘cute couple’ and that she was ‘super smart’ since she knew about hockey, and it had always bothered him.

Not because Amy wasn’t awesome, but because they made it sound like the only way a girl would go near Evan (or vice versa) was if they were dating.

Like female relationships had to be sexual and couldn’t just..

.be. She was like a little sister, he supposed, though he wasn’t sure what having a sister was like.

A good friend for sure, and that was what he needed.

It was also why he was scared shitless of this dinner.

“You scored!” Amy said when she let him out of her bear hug. “Mom and Dad’ll be so mad they missed it!”

They sat down and caught up. Evan relaxed into her stories as Amy told him everything that had been going on with the Peters family since he’d last checked in. Amy was a vet tech, and after a string of stories about weird pet incidents, Evan had regained some of his equilibrium.

“So what’s going on with you?” she asked. “Like, besides the hockey stuff.”

They didn’t talk much about hockey anymore, not since he’d gone pro.

Like his mom, Amy watched as many of his games as she could and texted him encouragement throughout the season.

She’d made it clear when they were teenagers that they were friends outside of his being a hockey player; she wanted to hear how he was doing with all the non-hockey stuff that didn’t make it into the news reports and media coverage.

“Uhm...” The answer was almost always ‘not much.’ His life had been 99% hockey since he could remember.

All the exciting things were hockey-related, whether good or bad.

Evan had always struggled to pick out pieces of his life to offer her, often having to settle with times he got to play with a teammate’s dog or a particularly cool mini-golf course he’d found somewhere.

Today he had a very non-hockey thing he wanted to get off his chest.

“I uhm...I kinda started...seeing someone....” He made a face, both at how awkward he sounded and because he wasn’t sure if he could call what he and Riley were doing qualified as ‘seeing someone.’

But before he could backtrack or add qualifications to that, Amy clapped her hands together. “Oh my God! Evan, that’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you! What’s his name?”

“Well, he’s—“ He stopped short. He expected to have to do this whole thing about how it wasn’t a woman, but then what Amy said hit him. She hadn’t even gone gender-neutral. She’d straight up asked what his name was. “How’d you know?”

Amy blushed, her shoulders rising to her ears. “Oops, sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. That just slipped out.” A pause, then a quiet, “But I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah...” Evan scratched at the stupid beard he’d finally get to cut this weekend now that it was December.

No-Shave November and Playoffs were the bane of his existence.

“I just...I dunno, I was expecting to have to explain that I might be gay—“ Amy made a sound; Evan narrowed his eyes. “What? I can’t be gay?”

“Sorry. No, you can definitely be gay. Like, obviously you’re gay? I’m just surprised you didn’t realize I already knew—“

“You already knew? Fuck, Amy, I didn’t know until Ri—“ He cut himself off. Names were a bad idea. His sexuality was his business to share, but having sex with a teammate wasn’t.

He trusted Amy, but he shouldn’t make that call without discussing it with Riley first. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate it if their roles were reversed.

“I didn’t know I was attracted to men until a couple of months ago. ”

Amy blinked at him. Then she topped off both of their glasses of wine as she muttered, “Shit, you’re serious. Jesus, Evan.”

“I can’t believe you knew I was gay and never told me,” he said and laughed, because this was ridiculous. He’d thought he’d have to convince Amy he wasn’t straight, but she’d known the whole time!

“I can’t believe you were gay and didn’t know!” Amy said, laughing too. “That’s too cute. And makes me feel a bit better that you never told me. When we were kids, I thought you didn’t trust me or something.”

“I’ve told, like, one other person ever,” he said. Even though Dalton knew too, that hadn’t felt the same. Amy has known Evan when they were teenagers, years removed from Evan’s internal crisis. Amy knowing meant that it was more real, somehow. “I trust you.”

Her eyes went wide. “That’s so friggin’ sweet. I’m seriously honored.” She held up her wine glass. He raised his too, then they both took a long drink before she asked, “Do you feel better now that someone officially knows?”

Evan traced the brim of his wine glass. “Kind of? I mean, yes, but I’m also confused about how you knew before I did. When did you figure it out?”

“Uh, like, within a week of you moving in? Evan, sweetie...” She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.

“My friends hit on you the entire time you lived with us, and not once did you notice. My very hot, very obvious friends. And you were polite and stuff, and yeah, you were oblivious, but it was also clear you weren’t interested at all.

” She took her hand back and made a face as she went back to poking at her salad with her fork.

“But you were super interested in the neighbor across the street.”

“Neighbor?” What neighbor? He couldn’t remember anyone who— “Oh my God. The basketball player!?”

Amy tapped her nose. “You gave him the biggest puppy-dog eyes. It was so cute. He wasn’t gay, but he was so sweet not to burst your bubble.”

“I wasn’t interested in him,” he said automatically, but when he considered his new, fully understood appreciation of the male form, he did have a lot of mental images of Bobby Knightley without a shirt. “Wow, I had a crush on him. Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“I honestly didn’t think it was possible to have a crush on someone and not know it,” she said.

“Fair,” Evan grumbled and buried his face in his hands. This was not how he’d anticipated this conversation going. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Awww, don’t be embarrassed. No judgment.

You never seemed super sexually driven anyway, and this is the type of thing hockey players don’t talk about.

It’s a Big Deal, so I totally understand that you maybe didn’t want to analyze it too much if you didn’t have to.

Granted, I always thought you didn’t want people to know because you were worried about how it’d affect your career.

And it’s not easy to be a queer player in professional hockey, so I didn’t say anything.

I mean, look what happened to Lars Nilsson because of it, and no offense, but he’s a much better player than you.

It didn’t occur to me that you hadn’t said anything because you didn’t know. ”

Evan sighed. “Do you think I should keep it quiet?”

“Honey, you started this conversation with ‘I might be gay’ and not ‘I’m gay.’ You should figure that stuff out before you hold a press conference.”

“Yeah, fair.”

“So Carol doesn’t know?” she asked a few minutes later. There was no hint of an accusation, but Evan felt bad anyway.

“I’m...not ready to tell her. My mom’s the best, but I just...”

If Evan got right down to it, it wasn’t really about his mom.

His mom would be supportive (whether she already suspected like Amy had, he had no clue), but she’d ask questions.

Completely valid questions like what made him figure it out.

Which would lead to more questions, and all of those questions pointed to Riley Barczyk.

And Evan was barely ready to confront his sexuality head-on. He absolutely wasn’t ready to tell his mom that he was sleeping with Barczyk.

“I’m not sure what she’d think of the guy I’m hooking up with,” he muttered into his glass of wine. The glass was annoyingly empty, so he poured himself another. “And I don’t understand that whole situation, anyway.”

Amy stared at him as she processed this and said, “You know damn well that sounds intriguing and mysterious. Are you worried she won’t approve of the guy? Because that’s kind of a red flag. Or is it because this is just sex and that’s embarrassing? Because I get that.”

“She—“ He stopped short. What was it his mom had said about Riley? He was a charmer? Riley being a bruiser on the ice wouldn’t bother her—his mom could be old school and appreciated a good enforcer, especially one who could also score. If Evan had gotten over Riley hitting him last season (had he?), she could move past it. So while she would probably never expect the words ‘Mom, I think I’m gay’ to be connected to Riley, that wasn’t really Evan’s concern.

He had no idea what he was even doing with Riley. Aside from lots of sex, there was no real acknowledgment of what they were.

“It’s complicated,” he said. “It’s mostly sex, and it’s kind of casual.”

“Gotcha. Do you wanna talk about it? You mentioned a relationship, but I didn’t know if that was just a segue into the whole gay-thing, or if that’s what you actually wanted to talk about.”

“I do kind of want to talk about him,” Evan said, because he did.

The relief of Amy knowing he was gay had taken an enormous weight off his mind.

Sharing Riley might help ease that burden more.

..except the idea of saying it out loud made him nauseous.

He wasn’t sure if it was confusion or fear or a selfish desire to keep Riley to himself.

“But like I said, it’s complicated. I don’t know how much I could really say. ”

“Would it help if I asked questions? That way you could choose what you did or didn’t share.”

Worth a shot. “Sure.”

Slowly, Amy got a very broad picture of things.

They were having sex regularly whenever Evan’s schedule allowed.

It’d been going on sporadically for a few months.

Evan didn’t know where it was going, denied feelings being involved, but said he wanted it to continue for now.

No, they hadn’t talked about it. Yes, Evan was more physically attracted to his current hookup than he could ever remember being before.

Amy took it all in, but then grew quiet after dessert was dropped off. She stabbed her chocolate cake while she chewed over whatever she was going to ask next.

“I’m not going to look at you as I ask this, because you have a terrible poker face and I don’t want you to accidentally confirm or deny something you don’t mean to, but...” Amy took a deep breath, her gaze fixed pointedly at her plate. “Are you hooking up with another player?”

Evan stared at her dumbly. “Huh?”

“I changed my mind. Don’t answer that,” she said, holding up a hand.

“It’s better if I don’t know. Dating a professional athlete is always complicated, so I can see that being a huge stumbling block for any relationship.

Dating a queer professional athlete is harder.

Two queer NHL players sounds like a nightmare. ”

Evan swallowed. “It’s happened,” he said defensively.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s happening right now.” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“And there’s exactly one public example of it, and they’re engaged.

” She looked up. “I guess what I’m saying is.

..be careful. Whether you’re with another player or not, that’s not the point.

A lot could go wrong very quickly. Unless you’re ready for a lot of press and attention, just make sure the two of you are on the same page.

It’s a lot for someone who’s comfortable with their sexuality, and you’re new to the whole gay thing, apparently. ”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he grumbled, because she was. If he couldn’t wrap his head around being gay, how could he ever hope to do it with a national audience? And Evan couldn’t even say for certain they were in the same book, let alone on the same page. “We’re being careful,” he promised.

“Good.” She offered him a bite of cake and then wiped her hands. “This is a big deal. We’re gonna celebrate at the bar.”

“Celebrate what?”

“Figuring out who we are is an accomplishment, no matter how old we are when we do it. You don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow morning, do you?”

“Flight to Quebec isn’t until noon, but I have a curfew. Gotta be back at the hotel by nine.”

“Grown ass men with a curfew,” she said with an eye roll. “What a life.”

“It’s gonna be rough when I gotta grow up, eh?

” He was only half-joking. He did worry about what would happen when he retired and had to do things without the structure of an NHL season or the day-to-day routine of practice, games, and meetings.

A life when he no longer spent half his time traveling… weird.

“Probably,” she said. She held up her wine glass. “To figuring out this adult bullshit one step at a time.”

He clinked his glass to hers. “Maybe I’ll get there one day.” They each finished off their glasses.

“Don’t worry, Evan,” she said. “We all get there. Eventually.”