Page 52 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

twenty-four

Andre

I t’s been eighty four years . . .

Okay, more like a couple of minutes, but still, the silence feels endless.

I don’t know how to feel. Thankfully the GM isn’t here right now because dealing with Coach is enough and he hasn’t said a word to either of us since we sat down.

We snuck in through a back way to avoid the press and the bulk of employees working here right now.

I don’t even know where Melanie is, and I just pray she doesn’t rip either of our balls off.

Coach is bad enough. He’s just sitting in his chair, glaring at both of us with his fingers steepled against his thick mustache—a real thick porn stache from like the seventies.

It’s impressive. Must be where all the hair on his head has gone because there certainly isn’t any on top.

My mouth moves to make that joke, but snaps shut when Oli shoots me a glare.

What? He doesn’t know what I was going to say!

I’m shitting my pants right now, but not for the reasons one would think. Coach being mad at me is not new, nor will it be the last time. I think he has a board somewhere, where he gives stars to the players who piss him off the most that day. I know I’ve got plenty of them.

No, it’s not that.

I can handle his anger if he’s mad that we hid this.

What I can’t handle is him being mad that I’m gay. While I know Oli is still figuring himself out, I’ve always known who I am. I’ve never felt shame about it. Yes, I hid it, but solely because of my father and the horror that would bring on me. I didn’t want to deal with it.

If this league doesn’t want me because I’m queer, then fuck it. Fuck them, honestly. Who I’m attracted to has no bearing on how I play this game. Looking at Coach now I realize that I admire this man more than I thought, and if he turns out to be another homophobic prick it may break me.

Still, while I sit here toeing the edge of a breakdown, none of this was the first thought I had when I saw those pictures this morning.

No. My first thought wasn’t that people were going to find out.

My first thought was, I’m going to lose Oli.

That is the one thing I don’t think I’ll be able to handle.

Somehow this giant asshole has stitched his heart to mine, and I’m so afraid he’s going to tear the threads.

Fuck, okay, I can’t take the silence anymore. It’s making me itch. “To be fair, Coach, you said we needed to get along. Whatever we had to do.” His brown eyes freeze me to this chair. “I mean, we may have overdone it but—”

“Do you ever know when to shut up?” Coach barks.

“No, he doesn’t.” Oli glances at me, and I feel my gut settle slightly with the tiny smile he gives me. I don’t know when this shift happened, but I need him almost as much as I need to breathe. I’ve lost him once, and I don’t think I’ll handle losing him again very well.

“Charlie—” Coach holds his hands up, silencing Jessica who seems to have come straight here after she stopped at home.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

Thankfully Oli speaks first, because I’m fresh out of smartassness and courage.

“I don’t know why this matters. It’s no one’s business what happens while we’re off the ice.

” His voice is steady, but I still remember the frantic set of those beautiful eyes this morning when he found out about the tabloid.

“We’re working to get the photos down. Melanie is working on it now,” Jessica says softly. “While you’re right, Oli, this still is an odd situation. It’s never happened before. At least not publicly.” Jessica’s small hand lands on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze.

Oli nods, not looking at her. Instead that blue gaze is focused on Coach. “Are we fired or not?” I choke, then cough at his bluntness.

Coach rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Sometimes I lie awake at night and wonder why the fuck I deal with either of you. Then I remember you shitheads are amazing players and all the stress and gray hair you cause me is worth it.”

My eyes narrow. “Like . . . in your mustache, because you’re bal—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Oli hisses.

Okay, enough tiptoeing. “I’m gay, Coach. If that’s a problem—”

“Will you shut, the fuck, up,” he growls at me.

Taking a deep breath, he stands, bracing his hands on the desk.

“I don’t give a shit where either of you stick your dicks as long as it’s consensual and safe.

” That surprises me. “We should have known, though. Don’t act ignorant, Kuli.

You know how the media works. They’re like vultures just waiting to dive onto any scraps they can. ”

“I was stalked on my fucking property!” he growls.

Coach nods, sitting down and dropping back in his seat. “I know, and we will handle that. I want to know how someone even got close enough to your house to do this, and once we find out who did it they’ll wish they hadn’t.”

“What do you need from us?”

“The other guys will be in soon, for practice before the game. I’m going to be honest; I don’t know what to do. On the one hand I agree, it’s no one’s business, but we’d be stupid to believe it’s not going to be on people’s minds tonight.”

“We’re going to lose fans,” Oli says.

Coach taps his desk for a moment, then nods.

“We will. Then again, we may also gain fans, and I would rather have them than ignorant dickheads who think someone’s sexuality is wrong or has anything to do with their ability to play a fuckin’ sport,” he says bluntly.

“Jessica, do you think we should make a statement before the game?”

Looking surprised, she passes her eyes over us all.

“Honestly, no. I don’t think we should. At least not before the game.

In fact, whether you two want to make an official statement at all is up to you.

This is your lives, and I can’t tell either of you what the right or wrong way to go about it is.

Go with your gut, whatever feels right to you both.

You’ve already been forced out of the closet, which is wrong, and I know a lot of people will feel that way.

Both of you should be able to make whatever choice you feel comfortable with. ”

That doesn’t feel like enough, but I look over at Oli who still looks like he’s contemplating the world’s problems and how to solve them all in just hours before our game practice. I just need to know we’re okay. I need to know he’s not going to leave me. I need him.

Fuck, I may even love him.

That realization hits, and it feels like I’m being torn open as I sit in this chair, silently bleeding, hoping Oli will notice.

“I don’t want to make a statement before the game,” he says finally, and it hits with the force of an eighteen-wheeler.

He’s probably right, though. If we make a statement beforehand, all people will focus on is that and not the game.

Finally he looks over at me, and I can’t help but melt in the softness of those blue eyes as they hold mine.

I want to pull him in and kiss him. I want him to stop the doubts that are swirling in my brain.

I want Oli to silence it all, but instead he smiles and it’s like putting a kids Barbie bandage on a gaping wound.

It'll have to do for now.

“Melanie is going to focus on the breach of privacy. We’ve already made a statement about that, and the legal action we’ll take for stalking our athletes. The rest is up to you both,” Jessica says.

“Whatever happens going forward,” Coach says.

“We all support you, but it’s not going to be easy.

” I almost snort. Easy has never been a word I’ve associated with living anyway.

“People are dicks. I can’t speak for the rest of the guys, but as far as I’m concerned this means nothing to me.

Just a shock. When I ask you both to talk to me about shit like this, it’s not because I’m a nosy bastard.

It’s so that when the time comes I can back you one hundred percent and not be blindsided. Understood?”

“Yes. I understand.” Oli nods.

All of this is making me itchy. It’s pissing me off.

Jessica’s right. What that gossip dickhead did was horrible.

They outed us without our permission. They stole that from us both.

“Understood.” Oli stands, waiting for me to follow.

While we tentatively have Coach’s blessing, I know this day has only just begun.

There’s a shitstorm ahead, I just know it.

On top of everything else we have an away game against the Vipers in two days.

I go to follow Oli out, ready to dress and get this day over with. “Oh, and boys . . .” We both turn, looking at Coach. “No fucking in my locker room.”

A grin spreads on my face. “Oh.” I click my tongue. “Bout that, Coach—” Oli grabs the back of my neck, steering me out of the room while I laugh.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” he growls, forcing me out of Coach’s office. I pull out of his hold, smiling. My fingers itch to slip inside his, but this is not the time or place, and picturing Oli holding hands with me is too funny to think about. “Are you okay?”

I stop. He steps in front of me, and it takes everything in me not to pull him to me. “I think so.” I look away. “As long as we are.”

Oli steps closer, and I look down the empty hall. “We’re okay. I meant it, Dre. I’m not going anywhere this time. We’re in this together. I’m not running, zayka . ”

“I’m going to ask Viktor what that means, and if it’s bad, my ass is off the table for a month.”

He snorts. “Yeah, sure thing.”

Asshole . A soft smile springs to my lips, though. I feel fucking giddy. Everything may be crashing down around us, but I have him and that’s more than enough. “What should we do now?”

Oli looks to our right, then to our left, then presses a quick kiss to my lips. I barely have time to feel it before he pulls away. “We play the season of our fucking lives.”

It’s something, coming into a locker room with men you share almost every day with. You joke, you talk shit, and they’re your brothers in a way.

Well, until you’re outed by kissing your captain who you’ve been aggressively fucking for months.

Well, they don’t know that, but it’s implied.

Oli walks in first and the locker room falls silent.

He glares at them all and the tension snaps, and most everyone returns to acting normal.

Grey and Atlas, of course—and surprisingly, Ryker—stand right by us.

I take my place next to Colton, who I get along with the best—locker buddies—and he gives me a soft smile that eases my nerves a bit. “My brother is queer,” he says quietly.

Um, I don’t know what to say to that. “Cool? ”

He laughs, slapping me with his towel. “I guess that was my poor attempt at telling you I’m an ally. I mean, you and Oli are a shock but . . . I don’t care.”

“Um, thanks. I appreciate that.” I concentrate on changing, trying to keep my mind focused on what I have to do and not on the eyes that are definitely trying not to be obvious.

We almost get off without an issue until Mikael Stüber runs his mouth. “So, are we going to talk about what we’re not talking about, or are we going to pretend it’s fucking normal for our captain to be fucking our goalie?”

The room falls silent. Oli turns, and fuck, I usually love when that lethal gaze rakes over me, but now I’m almost afraid for our teammate. “What Andre and I do in our personal life is no one’s fucking business.”

“Oli,” Sev says gently. “I don’t think we care that you’re queer.

” He looks around the room, and I can tell there are a few who do care, but they fall silent and try to busy themselves.

“I think we’re more upset that we didn’t know, that you guys felt you couldn’t tell us.

Andre, fine, we’re just getting to know him, but you’ve been our captain, our family for years now. ”

Oli swallows thickly, sighing as he pulls on his gear.

“Look.” He turns to the room. “I am sorry I didn’t tell anyone, but this is .

. . this is new. For me. For him.” He looks at me.

“We’re not even sure what’s happening right now.

” My stomach clenches, and I don’t know why.

I know what this is. Yes, things have changed over the last month, but still.

At the end of the day, maybe I am just a hole for him to relieve some stress in.

“But something is happening?” Ryker asks .

Again his eyes land on me; they watch me and don’t let go.

Then I feel hope—just a little—as those eyes settle on me, soft and hazy.

“Yes.” The word is simple, but it lands and swells, encasing me in this fucking warmth I want to covet.

He turns his eyes to the rest of the room watching us.

“All of this now needs to be put to the side. We’re going to win this fucking game.

We’re going to show everyone who we are as a team,” he says.

“If anyone has any appropriate non-invasive questions, we can answer them after. Deal?” He throws his hand out, and it takes a minute but Grey, Atlas, and Ryker put their hand on top.

Slowly the rest of the guys join. “Let’s show them why we’re going to the playoffs this year.

Why we’re the best team in our conference.

” Finally I stand, looking at them all and placing my hand on top.

“Let’s show them why we’re going to the playoffs this year. Why we’re the best team in our division.”