Chapter 8
Luca
I'd been awake since five. I sat at my kitchen counter with cold coffee and the contract proposal Mark had sent over. Same numbers we had discussed. Same term length. Everything I had worked toward for ten years, printed on eight pages of dense legal text.
My phone buzzed. Dad flashed across the screen.
I let it ring twice before answering. "Hey."
"Luca. Good, you're up." My father’s voice carried that particular quality it always had—approval measured in increments, never quite full. "Wanted to catch you before practice. Your mother has been asking about the contract."
"Still in negotiations." I set down my coffee mug with too much force. Black liquid sloshed over the rim.
"Mark says it's looking good. Five years. Captaincy locked in." He paused. "We're proud of you, son. You've done everything right. Kept your head down, stayed focused. Never let distractions get in the way."
That landed like a punch to the solar plexus.
Distractions.
I thought of Theo three nights ago. Sheets tangled around his waist, looking at me like I had hung the moon. The way he'd said my name when I told him I was falling for him.
And the way the warmth in his eyes had gone cold when the phone call shattered the moment.
"Yeah," I said. My voice came out flat. "No distractions."
"That's what it takes at this level. You know that better than anyone." My father’s pride rang clear through the phone. "The organization wants a captain who represents stability. Leadership. Someone the fans and sponsors can trust."
Someone safe. Someone boring. Someone who fit neatly into the box they had built.
Someone who definitely wasn't sneaking around with a rookie twenty-two minutes after team celebrations ended.
"I know what they want," I said.
"Good. Don't screw it up now. You're too close." He cleared his throat. "Your mother wants you to come by for dinner after you sign. Bring that focus with you."
The call ended.
I sat there staring at the contract proposal. My father’s voice echoed in my skull. Never let distractions get in the way.
My phone buzzed again. A text from Theo.
Theo: Good morning. Sleep okay?
I'd left his apartment at 1:30 AM, after another call from Mark reminded me exactly what I had to lose. Theo had watched me dress with questions in his eyes he hadn't asked. I'd kissed him goodbye and tasted doubt on both our tongues.
I stared at his message for thirty seconds.
Luca: Busy day. See you at practice.
Professional. Distant. Safe.
I hated myself for it.
The meeting with Mark happened in his downtown office—all glass walls, steel beams, and expensive leather chairs. He spread the contract across his desk.
"They're offering top-five captain money," he said. "Five years. Full no-movement clause. This is what we have been building toward."
I scanned the numbers. They were good. Better than good.
"What's the catch?"
"No catch." Mark leaned back, fingers steepled.
"They love you, Luca. You're exactly what this franchise needs.
Steady. Reliable. No scandals, no controversies.
You keep your private life private and your public image clean.
" His eyes met mine with meaning I felt in my bones.
"That is worth a lot in today’s market."
Keep your private life private.
"What if something came out?" The question escaped before I could stop it. "Hypothetically."
Mark’s expression sharpened. "What kind of something?"
"I don't know. Anything that might be considered controversial."
"Luca." He said my name like a warning. "Is there something I need to know about?"
Yes. I am in love with my rookie and it's tearing me apart.
"No," I said. "Just asking."
"Good. Because if there were something—anything that could damage your image or distract from your leadership—now would be the time to handle it." He tapped the contract. "Before we sign. Before it becomes a problem."
Handle it. Like Theo was a problem that needed solving. Like what we had was a mess to be cleaned up.
My chest felt too tight.
"The organization is investing in your future here," Mark continued. "Captain for the next five years minimum. Face of the franchise. That comes with expectations. They need to know you're all-in. That nothing is going to derail your focus or create PR headaches."
I thought about Theo in the parking lot three weeks ago. How long can we keep doing this?
I thought about his face when I had pulled back at the bar, treating him like a stranger while wanting to pull him close in front of everyone.
"I am all-in," I heard myself say.
Practice that afternoon was torture.
Theo smiled at me during warm-ups—bright and genuine and completely unguarded. I looked away.
During drills, I kept my distance. When he needed correction, I used words instead of touch. I kept my voice level and professional. Team captain coaching his rookie. Nothing more.
I watched the confusion creep into Theo’s eyes like water rising.
In the locker room after practice, he caught my arm as I headed for the showers.
"Hey. You okay?"
His fingers were warm through my compression shirt. I stepped back, breaking contact.
"Fine. Why?"
"You've been weird all day." Theo’s voice dropped lower. "Did something happen?"
Yes. I'm choosing my career over you and I hate myself for it.
"I'm busy," I said. "Contract stuff. It's a lot."
"Oh." He nodded, but something shuttered behind his eyes. "Yeah. Of course. Big deal."
"Yeah."
We stood there in the too-bright locker room with teammates moving around us. Theo looked like he wanted to say more. I wanted to be anywhere else.
"I'll text you later?" he offered.
I should've said yes. I should've found a way to explain that the distance wasn't about him, wasn't about us. That I was just scared and trapped and didn't know how to choose between everything I had built and everything I wanted.
Instead, I said, "Probably going to be swamped all week. Contract meeting prep."
"Right." Theo’s smile didn't reach his eyes. "Sure. Good luck with that."
He turned and headed for the showers. I watched him go.
Garrett appeared at my elbow. "You're an idiot."
"Excuse me?"
"Whatever you are doing—pulling back, pushing him away—it's written all over both your faces." Garrett kept his voice low. "And it's a mistake."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know you've been different the last few weeks. Lighter. Like you finally let yourself breathe." Garrett’s eyes held no judgment, just steady truth. "And I know you're scared shitless about that contract meeting."
My jaw locked. "It's complicated."
"It's only complicated because you're making it complicated." He clapped my shoulder. "Don't screw up the best thing that's happened to you just because you're afraid of what other people think."
He walked away before I could respond.
I stood there alone, surrounded by the sounds of the team—laughter and chirping and the hiss of showers. All of it familiar. Safe.
All of it suddenly felt like a cage.
Theo didn't text that night.
I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. My last words to him haunted me. Probably going to be swamped all week.
Translation: Don't expect to hear from me. Don't expect anything.
God, I was a coward.
My phone buzzed with a new message, but it wasn't Theo. It was Mark.
Mark: Meeting confirmed for Friday 10 AM. GM, head coach, and ownership will be there. Dress sharp. This is it.
This is it.
Five years. Captaincy. Everything I’d sacrificed for. Everything that had defined my adult life.
I typed out a message to Theo three times.
I’m sorry. Delete.
This isn't about you. Delete.
I’m falling in love with you and it terrifies me. Delete.
I set the phone down and pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars.
The worst part was knowing Theo deserved better. He deserved someone who could be proud to love him publicly. Someone who didn't treat him like a secret. Someone brave enough to choose him even when it cost everything.
I wasn't that person.
Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Thursday’s practice was worse.
Theo kept his distance. He matched my energy. When I gave him feedback, he nodded professionally and skated away. No lingering looks. No small smiles. Just polite distance that felt like a knife between my ribs.
In the scrimmage, I watched him take a hit in the corner and my heart stopped—pure instinct to make sure he was okay. But when he got up and our eyes met across the ice, he looked away first.
That hurt more than the hit ever could.
After practice, I found myself in the equipment room. I pretended to check my gear, but really I was just hiding from having to face him in the locker room. The space smelled like tape and rubber and old sweat. Usually I found it comforting. Today it felt suffocating.
The door opened.
Theo.
He stopped when he saw me, hand still on the doorknob. "Sorry. Didn't know anyone was in here."
"It's fine."
Silence stretched between us. Heavy. Aching.
"Are we..." Theo started, then stopped. His throat worked. "Is this how it's going to be now?"
"Theo..."
"Because if you’ve changed your mind about us, just tell me." His voice stayed steady, but I could hear the hurt underneath. "If this was just physical and I read it wrong, I can handle that. I’m a big boy. But don't just freeze me out and pretend nothing happened."
"It's not like that."
"Then what's it like?" He stepped closer. I could see the doubt in his eyes that I had put there. "Because from where I’m standing, you told me you were falling for me, we had sex, and then you’ve barely looked at me for three days. So help me understand what the hell is going on."
I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to explain about the contract and Mark’s warnings and my father’s pride and the weight of ten years spent building a reputation I couldn't afford to lose.
I wanted to tell him I was choosing safety over him and hating myself for it.
Instead, I said, "The contract meeting is tomorrow. It's a lot of pressure. I need to focus."
"Focus." Theo’s laugh was bitter. "Right. Because I’m a distraction."
I heard my father’s voice echoing through my skull.
"That's not what I meant—"
"Isn't it?" His eyes searched mine, looking for something I couldn't give him. "Be honest, Luca. Is this going somewhere, or am I just someone you hook up with in private while you pretend I don't exist in public?"
I could feel the walls closing in. The equipment room was suddenly too small.
"I don't know," I said.
It was the truth. It was also the worst thing I could have said.
Something crumbled in Theo’s expression. "Okay. Well. At least that's honest."
He turned to leave.
"Theo, wait—"
"Good luck with your meeting tomorrow." He paused at the door without looking back. "I hope you get everything you want."
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
I stood there alone, surrounded by the tools of the game I’d built my life around, and wondered why winning suddenly felt so much like losing.
That night, I pulled up Theo’s contact in my phone a dozen times.
Every time, I heard Mark’s voice. Handle it before it becomes a problem.
Every time, I heard my father. Never let distractions get in the way.
Every time, I saw Theo’s face three nights ago when he had looked at me like I was something precious. Like I was worth the risk.
I thought about Garrett’s words. Don't screw up the best thing that's happened to you.
But maybe I already had.
At midnight, I finally typed: I’m sorry. I know that isn't enough. But I am.
I stared at the unsent message for five minutes.
Then I deleted it and turned off my phone.
Tomorrow I would sign the contract. I would lock myself into five more years of this carefully controlled life. I would become the captain they wanted me to be—stable and focused and controversy-free.
I would be the man who had chosen fear over love.
I closed my eyes. I tried not to think about the look on Theo’s face when he had asked if he was just a hookup. I tried not to think about the distance I’d created between us, cold and widening like a crack in the ice.
I tried not to think about how much easier it would be if I’d never let myself fall for him in the first place.
But it was too late for that.
I’d already fallen.
I just didn't have the courage to let him catch me.