Page 66 of Next Season
I shoved my hands into my pockets and shrugged. “I live in Seattle and he’s here.”
“Oh. You don’t want to do the long-distance thing.”
“No, I’d do it. I’d do whatever it takes. The problem is…I don’t know how.” I sighed raggedly and continued. “I don’t have a great track record with relationships, I’ve never been with a man before him, and I’ve never been good with emotions. I’m also not out.”
“Do you want to be?”
“Yeah, I do, but that’s complicated. Fuck, I’ve been out of commission for two and a half months. Everyone is already placing bets about how long I’ll last, and reporters have probably prewritten the ‘Trunk sucks’ op-eds. The pressure to perform feels intense.”
Vinnie inclined his chin. “I know.”
“I know you do. By the way, you’re the first person I’ve come out to.”
“I’m honored. Will you tell anyone else?”
“Dunno.”
“If you can, I recommend it. Start with people you know have your back and will support you no matter what. Saying the words makes it real. No shame, you know?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
He pulled me in for a bro hug and punched my biceps when he let go. “Nol and I’ll fly to Seattle for a game in January. Score a goal for me, man.”
“Will do. Or I’ll try, anyway. It’ll be trippy to be on the ice again. I’m open to any advice,” I replied with a snicker I hoped would shift us to a lighter topic.
“Ah, then I’ve got something for you. Listen up. Are you listening?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m listening.”
“Don’t play by old rules. These are new times, and you cannot be afraid to change.”
I nodded. “Thanks, man.”
“Here’s another one…and it’s extra important. Be happy, Riley. Not everyone out there gives a shit about your well-being. Some only care about appearances or what they think you’re worth to them. You have to look out for yourself.” Vinnie bumped my fist and skated backward, holding his forefinger in the air. “One last thing…put the puck in the net.”
I barked a laugh. “I’ll do my best. Thank you, Kimbo.”
He skated away, blowing kisses at me till I had no choice but to flip him off on my way out the door.
I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as I left the rink, but it didn’t last. My heart lurched in my chest as I drove down Main Street, slowing in front of Rise and Grind and Henderson’s Bakery. I almost didn’t turn on Blossom, but I couldn’t resist one last glance at the diner before I veered to my place to collect my bags and get on the road.
Dark clouds loomedon the horizon about an hour outside of Elmwood. Flurries hit the windshield but didn’t stick long enough to distract me from thinking about Jean-Claude. We’d spoken nearly every day for two months. It felt wrong and strange not to text him. I thought about calling, but what more could we say?
Fuck. Stop.I needed a mental detour, stat.
I thought about my visiting my family during the holidays. It was going to be a whirlwind trip, but my sister insisted on…
My family.
I picked up my cell with a sense of urgency I couldn’t explain. I tried to scroll, but there was no way to do it safely, so I pulled over and pressed Call.
“Hey, Tara, it’s me.”
“This is a surprise. How are you, little bro?”
I squinted at the ribbon of black road and the occasional vehicle whizzing by me. “Uh, I’m good.”
“So I’ve heard,” she enthused. “I saw the Slammers announced you’ll be back next week. Congrats.”