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KAYDEN

B efore you think I’m some kind of unfeeling pig, hear me out.

I told Erik I loved him because I really do.

Obviously, he didn’t believe me. Look, some of the most powerful, heartfelt words are the hardest to say.

And yeah, they flew out of my mouth just as we were skyrocketing towards some seriously hot sex.

But it’s not what you think. I said it when scoring was already a slam dunk, not because getting laid hinged on it.

I can hear my boyfriend’s voice whispering in my ear now, carrying on about how that’s not the point and that saying it while in the throes of passion doesn’t count. If Erik wanted me to apologize for every dumb thing I’ve ever said—or not said—we could be here a while.

For now, the way I’d said it would have to do. Look, I’m not saying my own track record is perfect. I’ve had my shitty moments in all of this. There was this one moment that I’m not proud of, when things really hit home.

Here’s how it went down: The guys all went to Tully’s, a sports bar and restaurant just outside the city. I’d heard that they served better wings than the Anchor Bar, Duff’s, and Gabriel’s Gate combined, so I had to find out if the rumor was true.

I hadn’t reckoned with the idea that the guys would’ve found it just as weird for Erik to leave my side. When my boyfriend got up to use the bathroom, Ryan Detenbeck slid onto his bar stool.

At first, I thought nothing of it. He was just going to yap about the game on TV, no big deal.

Boy was I in for a surprise.

“So, what’s the deal with you and De Ruiter, anyway?”

The music was so loud I barely heard the question.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Detenbeck pulled back a little, smiling and raising his hands in surrender.

“No need to bite my head off, dude,” he said. “Just asking a question.”

I stuffed one handful of popcorn from the bowl in front of me in my mouth, followed by another. His question set me on edge, and I needed something to calm myself. What did he know, and how had he found out? And why was he asking me about it in the middle of a restaurant?

But I couldn’t not answer him. That would’ve been a dead giveaway.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Guess I misunderstood you.”

“No kidding.”

“What did you mean?”

“Nothing, really. It’s just that the two of you are inseparable, like two waffles that you can’t peel apart.”

“We’re team co-captains. Don’t you want us to be close?”

“Hey. I never said it was a bad thing. It just seems weird for a couple of guys that we had to physically separate on the ice to become Mario and Luigi.”

“It’s hockey, bro. Tempers flare. We just got a little ahead of ourselves.”

He shrugged. “But you can’t blame me for noticing,” he said. “You guys do spend a shitload of time together. Thought maybe you guys were playing hide-the-salami or something.”

“Well, we’re not!”

Detenbeck threw his hands up in surrender, but without a smile this time. That was smart. It meant he knew he’d narrowly avoided getting punched.

It also meant I was a hothead with no self-control, which my boyfriend would’ve pointed out had he not stepped away. So, I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath, and tried again.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“No problem. I’ll be careful the next time I bring up your homoerotic fantasies.”

I shook my head. Ryan Detenbeck was a hell of a competitor on the ice, but he had no common sense.

“And it’s just as well,” he said. “That would be a disaster for the team.”

“What would be a disaster?”

“If you and Erik De Ruiter were really doing the mattress mambo, you know.”

I froze and stared at him. No, I didn’t know what he meant. Being Ryan Detenbeck, smartass extraordinaire, he would enlighten me, though. For the moment, he was busy slipping one index finger in and out of a hole made by the thumb and index finger of his opposite hand.

So mature.

“I’m just talking theoretically,” he said. “It would be a huge distraction to the team.”

“That figures.”

“You don’t think so?”

Now I realized I’d dug myself in far too deep. Like, now that he’d said it, I had to defend myself—without outing me or Erik. No matter what, I couldn’t let him get away with talking shit like that.

“I dunno, I hadn’t thought about it,” I said.

A total pile of bullshit, sure, but I had to do something to get him off my back.

“Hey, did you see that server?” my teammate asked.

“Which one?”

“You can’t be serious. The blonde that was seating everyone.”

“We walked right to the bar.”

“I know, but you’re supposed to be like a radar, dude. At least you used to be. I remember when you could’ve spotted a hot blonde a mile away.”

So, this was it. Yet another way to chip away at me until I had no closet left to hide in. Oh yeah, maybe he really wanted to talk about the sexy blonde server, but can you blame me for thinking anything else?

But hey, I couldn’t pass up the chance to change the subject.

“I saw her,” I said.

He glanced over to the far end of the restaurant as if looking for her.

“Why don’t you go talk her up, lay on some of that Kayden Preston charm?”

He even elbowed my ribs when he said it.

I shrugged, keeping my eyes on the Sabres-Bruins game on the TV. Had Detenbeck seen my eyes, he would’ve known how badly I’d been lying.

In truth, I hadn’t noticed a blonde bombshell at all.

I hadn’t noticed very many women in general, not like I used to.

That didn’t mean I’d sworn off any and all attraction to women.

They just seemed not to catch my eye like they once had.

But I could say the same for men. It’s not the mystery you might think.

You could say I only had eyes for Erik De Ruiter.

But I couldn’t say that to Ryan Detenbeck, not after he’d confirmed my worst fears: that the team wouldn’t accept Erik and me. Worse, we would be seen as a problem.

Oh yeah, I know he didn’t speak for the whole team, but I could .

If one teammate made a colossally stupid comment, others would probably follow.

Here’s the thing: I could’ve made all sorts of comments about how I wanted that server’s body in the worst way.

It wouldn’t have mattered in the long run.

Erik and I might not have been able to hide forever.

Being outed was inevitable, and not how you would think.

The truth could just slip out, even if I’d done everything in my power to keep a lid on it.

“I don’t know, bro,” I said. “I’ve been pretty focused.”

“And taking cold showers, apparently. You’re saying you’re too focused?”

“Yeah.”

“Even for a hot blonde with the biggest tits in Western New York?”

“Even for a hot blonde with the biggest tits in Western New York. Yes, bro. Seriously.”

He collapsed into the back of the stool, making a frustrated sound, like he’d watched a hockey player try an amazing shot on the net and miss.

I shook my head. My boyfriend seemed to be taking forever in the bathroom. Had he fallen in the toilet, for chrissake?

Anyway, Detenbeck sounded so fucking stupid.

The worst part was I would’ve talked just like him only a few months ago.

Same ignorance, I mean. Being in a relationship hadn’t caused the change, though.

Erik De Ruiter deserved the credit. He’d made me think more rationally and thoughtfully.

Before, I would’ve thought Erik’s worldview would turn me into a wimp. Now it just seemed sensible.

But my teammates wouldn’t quit. I knew that. I needed a lifeline and found it when our server brought several plates of wings to the bar. God, the sight made my mouth water.

“You’re nuts, dude,” Ryan said.

“Why?”

He slapped the side of his legs in mock frustration or shock. I didn’t know which.

“Preston, dude, my main man, there’s a hot blonde with an ass that won’t quit, and you’re not going to talk to her? If you don’t, then I will.”

“I hope you can handle being shot down. Wait, what am I saying? Of course you can. You’ve had so much practice at it.”

“Says the guy who’s too chickenshit to talk to a girl he knows he could land.”

Again, I shrugged instead of getting angry. Erik De Ruiter’s influence striked again. Besides, what the heck could you say to guys like Ryan Detenbeck?

“I’m good. Just eating my wings, thanks,” I said.

“You sure you haven’t gone gay?” I cocked a fist back and didn’t know how it didn’t fly right at Detenbeck’s mouth, but I restrained myself. Erik might’ve adjusted my worldview but I was still human.

“Shit, dude,” he said. “I don’t know when you became so fucking sensitive.”

“The moment I knew we could win a championship. Now, would you shut up and eat your wings already?”

He paused, wearing this look that accused me of being crazy. Then he went back to his own stool.

Erik returned from the bathroom a minute later, and I pretended to not notice him when he slipped back onto his stool.

That really sucked, you know. Forget that I wanted to steal as many glances as possible at someone so gorgeous, no matter how many times we’d gone to bed together.

He was my guy, and now I’d pretended he wasn’t.

Not that we hadn’t done that all along, but this felt different.

For the first time, I felt a sense of shame.

I understood why Erik wanted to tell others so badly.

It sucked to keep things quiet. Problem was they would never accept us.

I hadn’t been wrong about that. As much as Ryan Detenbeck was an idiot, he was still my teammate, and his opinion offered a preview of what we could expect from the rest of the team.

“I miss anything?” Erik asked.

“Nope. Not a thing.”

Another lie. Perfect. I might not have declared our relationship from the rooftops, but he was still my boyfriend. That meant showing the honesty I would in any other relationship. It also made the feeling of shame Detenbeck provoked in me sting even worse.

As I watched Erik take his customary small bites of his chicken wings, I understood how things would be. We could never tell anyone who we really were. If things stayed that way, could we keep our relationship together forever?