Page 26

Twenty-five

Ryder

“ W ho the fuck is that?”

“Man, it is too early for you to be shouting like that,” Westy says, rubbing his eyes as he pours coffee into a travel mug before morning practice.

I scroll through the gallery of photos attached to the article and seethe while my mug of coffee is forgotten. Knox looks like a million bucks in a dark burgundy suit and black shirt that’s molded to his body, diamonds in his ears sparkling like his smile. I didn't even know his ears were pierced. In some photos he’s by himself and looking incredible, in others he laughs with the most stunning man I’ve ever seen beside him on a purple carpet at some event for the damn Vers app, where he’s a new ambassador. How can a faceless dick pic app have a face? Two faces, actually, that are as incomparably gorgeous as these men.

“What are you looking at that has you so red?” Westy asks, looking at my phone over my shoulder. “Hey, that’s Knox. Is that a new boyfriend or something? Damn, good for him, that dude is objectively smoking hot.”

“Shut the fuck up or I will break your face,” I snap, locking my phone and stuffing it in the pocket of my bag so he can’t comment on Knox. I grab my travel mug to leave.

“Damn, it’s cool if you miss him. He’s your friend, and you’re going through something, but there's no need to bite my head off.” Westy steps back when I shoot him a glare.

“I don't want to talk about Knox,” I grumble, stalking out the door. Westy follows, because, of course, we’re carpooling today and I can’t just leave him here.

“Bro, you’re obviously going through it, and those photos pissed you off. All I’m saying is I get it, and I’m not judging. I’m giving you an outlet to talk because you’re a real jerk when you get like this, and no one likes you like that. If you want the D-line and the team to have your back, you have to be a bit more likable, man.” He holds his hands up in a don’t hold it against me for speaking the truth kind of way, and I roll my eyes as I start the car.

I pinch my temples and rub my eyes for a moment before looking up and beginning the drive. What do I even tell him? It’s not like I can come out to my teammates .

But why can't I? Knox came out, and he seems to be doing fine. The Condors rallied around him, making a big public statement about supporting all of their players, regardless of their identities, and pledging to create initiatives for LGBTQ+ inclusion in sports throughout the organization, which is huge.

“I’m…” I begin, feeling the word stick in my throat and having to swallow around it before I can get it out. “…bisexual.” My stomach churns at the words spoken out loud for the first time.

“And I’m Québécois, but most people just call me Canadian,” Westy says, like we’re talking about our nationalities.

“I’m not talking about where I’m from, I’m talking about who I want to fuck,” I snap at him, exasperation rising when I have to even say this.

“Well, that’s how I feel about it. It’s of such little consequence as where you’re from to me. I don't care who you want to fuck. Take a woman home. Take a man home. Take both. I don't fucking care. Just get some. I'm sure half our team is bi or has at least experimented. Everyone's getting way too comfortable with each other, ya know?”

“Seriously?” I say slowly, wondering if it’s that easy.

“Yes, you idiot. Now, what’s up with Knox? Was there something between you, and that’s why you’re crashing at my place in the world’s most uncomfortable bed?”

“Dude, you know that bed sucks and you let me stay with you anyway?” I ask in annoyance.

“It’s how I keep people from staying too long. The bed guarantees guests will go home because they can't stand the accommodations. Sorry, not sorry,” he says with a grin.

“Rude,” I say with a grimace before I go back to his original question. “Yeah, there’s something between us. Knox wants me to admit I have feelings for him,” I say slowly. “We got into a fight because I’m not ready to come out and say it. So I left.” I don't tell him about the text Knox sent me about Goldie missing me and wanting me to come home. I know Knox has ulterior motives, and he’s using my fish against me to get me to break down and do what he wants.

“You really want to avoid the conversation that badly, huh?” he asks, sipping his coffee.

“I was in a different headspace, okay? This was before his coming-out article, anyway. He was still in the closet, so it’s not like he had anything to stand on.” It’s a weak argument, and I know it.

“Bro, he did that for you.” I can feel Westy’s eyes boring into my face as he stares at me in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, merging onto the highway.

“The article, coming out so publicly. He made several comments about his future man, and being the man he’s always wanted to be, so his future man can be, too. It was really cute, and he was talking about you, you big dummy. He went out on a limb, took that big, bold step first, and showed you he’s ready to be in the spotlight and will make it okay for you . He knew you were afraid to come out, and didn’t see him out, so why should you be? So he went even bigger. That dude has balls.”

He has no idea . But I don’t say that. Knox’s balls are for me, and me alone. And maybe that dude in the blue suit he was photographed with my dick voice reminds me, unhelpfully. That guy was way too hot, and Knox had his arm around him in a few photos. He said he wanted to be with someone proud to be by his side in that same article, and look at him posing with another guy not a week later. He’s an incredible man, and I know I’m not the only one who sees it. But I’ve been too afraid to step up and be there for him the way he deserves. Maybe I’ve waited too long.

“Well, Knox may not think I’m worth waiting for, since those photos were taken yesterday and he looked oh so friendly with that hot guy with the amazing smile,” I mumble as I work to not strangle the steering wheel. Maybe if it was that guy’s scrawny neck.

“Oh, come on. You never know what’s going on in photos like that. They were taken at an event, they could have been told to pose like that. Why not just ask Knox? Then you’ll know for sure and won’t have to guess at the nature of their relationship, if there even is one,” Westy says, sounding way too wise.

“Have you been through this before?” I ask as I take the exit for the arena .

“No, but I’ve seen this in movies so many times. You’re stupid if you do anything but ask him about it, and I know you’re not stupid. A dummy about emotions and your orientation, maybe, but not outright stupid.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence,” I say with a frown.

“Oh, after practice, you should totally go to his place and surprise him with flowers or something and tell him how you feel,” Westy says, smiling in his excitement as I pull into the parking garage.

“He’s gay, not some chick who wants that kind of treatment,” I say and shudder. “That sounds awful. Why would you even suggest that? It’s not like I’m going to pick him up for a date or some shit.”

“Dude, movies, duh. And everyone likes flowers, not just chicks. You’re such an asshole. No wonder you’re the one who messed things up. Now you have to make things better somehow. You left, he came out in a big ass public article where he made it so fucking obvious how he feels for you, now it’s on you to fix things. If not flowers, you have to figure something out. Grand gestures or some shit, I think. We’ll tell the boys and figure it out during practice and get you sorted,” he assures me.

“No, I don't want everyone to know,” I say immediately, the thought of my entire team knowing my secret sending a shot of fear careening through my body and knocking every nerve on its way until I’m a frayed mess. They’ll make fun of me. It’ll be high school all over again .

“You think they don't already know? I bet they do, and no one’s going to care. It’s not like you hit on us or anything.” He unbuckles and hops out of the SUV, grabbing his coffee and bag.

Could my teammates already know I’m bi, and not care? He’s right about me not finding any of them attractive. They’re all disgusting, honestly. I spend too much time with them and know their worst habits. I watch them sweat, bleed, spit, fart, and do ungodly things regularly. None of that is sexy.

When we walk into the locker room, Westy claps his hands to get everyone’s attention, and my heart rate jacks up. “Kingsy has something to say, and you better be supportive.” He turns to me and nods. That’s it? That’s all the warm-up I get before I lay myself bare before my team?

My hands shake, and my entire body is coated in a sheen of sweat as I look around at the semi-interested faces of those assembled. “I, um, I’m bi,” I say haltingly, and in just a loud enough voice that I’m not sure they can even hear me.

“So what? Is that going to change what we do for practice today or something?” Nico asks as he straps on his pads.

“You owe me twenty bucks,” Rook says, turning to Campbell as he pulls his practice jersey over his head.

“I’ll Venmo you,” Campbell grumbles, tying off his uniform shorts and begrudgingly pulling out his phone.

“Should have listened to me when I said I saw him go off with Knox at the club, and I had a feeling there was something more than friendship between them,” Rook says, pointing at me.

“You’re betting on me, now?” I ask, incredulously. “And no, you didn’t see anything. Remove that from your brain,” I insist, looking at Rook.

He laughs and looks at Nico, who holds out a fist for him to bump.

“Don’t worry, bro, we were too busy with Lilah to really see anything,” Nico assures me.

I guess my team really doesn't care about my sexual orientation or that I might have a thing for Knox, after all. My shoulders slowly lower, my heart rate gradually returning to a normal speed as I look around at the uninterested faces. It’s a stark difference from the hate and constant shit I got from my high school team for even having a close guy friend. This is…weird.

“Hey, so, since you’re into guys and would know, can you tell me, is my chest better than Davy’s?” Chad asks, pulling his gitch off and flexing his bare chest next to the muscular, stoic Russian, who is eyeing him warily.

“It does not matter whose chest is better. It’s ball size,” Davy answers seriously, leaning forward and slapping the back of his hand into Chad’s testicle region. Chad groans and drops to his knees. “See? Big balls drop faster. Must wear jock.” He goes back to taping his stick like he didn't just take out our left winger right before practice.

“Hey boys,” Monty says as he walks in behind us. “What did I miss?” he asks, looking around the room, then between Westy and me standing like idiots in front of everyone.

“Kingsy told us he’s bi and thought we’d care,” Chad says, using the chair in front of his stall to climb back to his feet, sufficiently recovered from the nut tap.

“Oh, cool, about time. So, are you going for it with Knox? There’s obviously something there, and he’s got it going on,” Monty says, clapping me on the shoulder as he strides past us to his stall to get his gear on.

I shake my head incredulously and leave the center of the room for my stall to get my pads on, too. “Did you all think I was gay or something?” I ask, too curious to hold back.

“Dude, you don't pop off with as much hate like you did at the wing place about another guy being gay without something going on inside yourself,” Monty answers, shrugging as he strips down to his compression shorts and starts layering on padding.

“Yeah, and you were extra sensitive about Knox in general,” Westy adds.

“Not to mention the insane chemistry between you two at the club after Pride Night,” Campbell says, holding a finger up as he pulls a jersey over his head.

“Oh, yeah, for sure. You eye-fucked him spectacularly before we even got to the dance floor,” Rook says, tying his skates.

“It even had me sweating watching you follow him around, stopping everyone from dancing with him,” Nico says, fanning his face. “What do I have to do to get someone to care about me that much, damn. I just want someone to love me.” He falls back in his chair and clutches his chest.

“You find a big, possessive motherfucker like Kingsy who doesn't want anyone touching what’s his,” Monty says, laughing at my expense.

“I hate all of you,” I grumble, but it feels good to have my team know what has been my dirty secret for so long and give me hell about it lovingly, instead of shutting me out for it. Okay, maybe I can do this, after all. Now to gain the courage to finally tell Knox what he deserves to hear from me. I hope I’m not too late.