Chapter 35 #2
I almost laughed, but I didn’t because I understood why she was concerned. People loved to think out loud about whether or not male hockey players could ever respect a female coach, and hearing that drumbeat so constantly was bound to chip away at her confidence.
“Honestly?” I said. “They probably respect you more than they do me. I’ve seen how dialed in they are when you’re in charge. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Trust me—if I thought for a moment they didn’t respect any member of the coaching staff, I’d have read them all the riot act by now.” I shook my head. “That hasn’t been an issue. I mean, they push Crumbs around a bit, but they all fall into line for you.”
She actually blushed at that. “Oh. They, um… They are pretty easy to work with.”
“They are.”
Furrowing her brow, she tilted her head. “Why am I stepping in, though?”
“I have something personal I need to deal with.”
Alarm sent her eyebrows upward. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. But I need to miss a game. Maybe two. I just wanted to be sure you were good with it before I—”
“If you have to go, we’ll manage,” she said. “Family comes first. Always.”
That nearly choked me up. Devon wasn’t family. Not… not really. But in a way…
Fuck. Now was not the time to start picking apart definitions and figuring out what Devon was or wasn’t to me. Not if I was going to keep my head together and be there for him.
What I needed to focus on was that my hockey team was in good hands.
And now I needed to get to Devon.
Emil wasn’t thrilled that I was taking off during a road trip, or during the season at all, but like Amy, he didn’t press when I said it was something personal.
Especially when I reassured him that Amy was up to the challenge.
He let it go, and by the time the sun came up, I was on my way to the Kamloops airport.
A few hours later, I was flying to Vancouver for a layover, and not long after that, I was en route to Denver.
Settled into my seat on the second flight, I texted Devon.
My flight lands at 3:45.
The response to that was the name of a hotel and a room number.
I didn’t think I’d been more restless on a flight in my whole life.
Not even when my team was on our way to a game-seven Cup final.
This was different, though. There wasn’t a hockey season and a championship on the line.
We weren’t on the brink of making history and getting our names engraved among legends.
Devon needed me, and I needed to get to him. What I’d do when I got there, I didn’t know. I mean, I did know—whatever Devon needed. Whatever he wanted.
I just didn’t know what that entailed. Maybe he’d put me on my knees and leave a few welts on my painfully unmarked skin. Maybe he’d want sex like we’d had that last night—slow and sweet and full of all the emotions we weren’t allowed to have for each other.
Or maybe he’d just want me to sit with him and tell him that shit like this, for all it felt world-ending and catastrophic, was temporary.
Hell, maybe by the time I got there, he’d realize the media had already moved on because it came out this morning that New York’s married captain had knocked up his GM’s also-married daughter.
Vancouver’s rookie defenseman possibly having a boyfriend had been knocked out of the spotlight by a much-juicier scandal, and I doubted anyone even remembered the article about him.
But Devon would remember. He’d still feel that queasy awareness that people he didn’t know had read about his very personal life. I was sure of that because I knew that feeling all too well, and Devon was far more sensitive than I’d ever been.
I fidgeted in my seat. Could this plane fly just a little bit fucking faster?
No, it couldn’t. In fact, it landed four minutes late, and I speedwalked up the jetway like I was trying to make a tight layover.
I’d have sprinted across the airport—that enormous fucking Denver Airport—if I thought I could do it without being recognized.
Because that was the other side of knowing what Devon was going through—people knew my face.
Mostly people who knew hockey, but still, enough that someone might snap a photo of me booking it through the airport like my ass was on fire.
The last thing I needed was some reporter pondering in an article why the Abbotsford Grizzlies’ coach was in Denver when his team was playing tonight.
Or even worse—why that openly gay coach was in Denver at the same time as his much-younger and very-recently-outed-as-gay player.
So… a brisk walk would have to do, even if I nearly lost my mind.
Good thing I hadn’t bothered to check any bags.
I owed the Grizzlies’ travel coordinator for making sure mine stayed with the team as the road trip continued.
After all, I would presumably be rejoining them before they returned to Vancouver.
Which… in my cab to the hotel, it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought beyond meeting up with Devon. How long was I going to be here? I’d arrived. So… what now?
I’d find out soon enough, because I was walking into the hotel. Taking the elevator. Speedwalking down the hall.
At his door.
I tapped my knuckle beneath the number. I could barely hear his approaching footsteps over the sound of my heart. I almost didn’t hear the deadbolt turn.
Then the door swung open.
I had enough presence of mind to step inside so we’d be out of sight, and then Devon had his arms around me.
I hadn’t even dropped my carry-on bag. I just closed my eyes and held him close, letting him bury his face against my neck.
Neither of us spoke. Neither of us made a sound.
He wasn’t crying or even trembling; if anything, I swore I could feel the weight of the world sliding off his cable-tight shoulders.
In my arms, he breathed slowly and deeply as tension melted out of him.
“Thank you,” he finally mumbled against my neck.
“Of course.” I had to fight the urge to kiss the top of his head. Yeah, we were hiding in a hotel room, but I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, his unshaven jaw scuffing against my jacket.
Then he loosened his embrace and drew back.
As our eyes met, my heart sank again. He looked like shit.
Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. A heavy shadow of stubble making the rest of his face look extra pale. He just looked exhausted and wrung out.
I touched his cheek. “This took a lot of out of you, didn’t it?”
Dropping his gaze, he nodded. Then he laughed humorlessly. “It’s stupid. I… For fuck’s sake, I knew this kind of shit happens at this level.” He stepped away and started pacing across the room by the two queen beds. “I know it does. I’ve seen it. I just didn’t…”
“You didn’t think someone was watching you like that.”
Devon shuddered. “I didn’t think anyone cared that much about my personal life. I’m just a rookie who’ll be back down in the minors before long.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
He faced me again, forehead creased.
I shrugged, letting my bag slide off my shoulder and onto the nearer bed. “The coaches are raving about you. You’re getting noticed.” I managed a tired smile. “Don’t be surprised if there’s a one-way contract in your future.”
Devon’s lips parted and his eyebrows climbed higher.
“You’re getting noticed,” I said again. “And not just by people who want to make up shit. People will talk about your hockey long after they’ve forgotten about this.”
He lowered his gaze to the floor between us. “But they’re still talking about it. I…” He looked at me again, features crumpling a bit. “How do you deal with that?”
I sighed as I stepped closer, and I took him back into my arms. “I came out on my own terms, and it still sucked, being talked about like that.” As he slumped against me, I stroked his back. “It wasn’t right. You and he shouldn’t have been outed like—”
“It wasn’t him and me.” Devon suddenly pulled back and freed himself from my embrace. As he resumed pacing, he said, “He’s a friend. A friend. We never—I mean, we have. In the past. But it was never like that, and—”
“Devon,” I whispered. “Whatever he is to you, it was never the public’s business.”
His shoulders slouched and he sighed again.
“It’s such bullshit. I mean… tabarnak!” He threw up his hands, and his voice wavered as he said, “They said right there in the article that I’m intensely private, and then they followed that with mentioning I lost my mom when I was twelve.
What the fuck? Don’t they understand that ‘intensely private’ means, you know, intensely private? ”
I grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, I know. They want sensationalism and clicks—they couldn’t give a fuck less about us as people.”
He exhaled hard and dropped onto the end of the bed.
Then he pressed his elbows into his thighs and leaned forward, pushing his hands through his hair.
Sometimes I found his Quebecois cursing amusing or even cute.
Today, it was just heartbreaking because frustration and shame and humiliation were rolling off him in waves.
I sat beside him and wrapped my arm around him. “I’m sorry someone did this to you.”
“I know. And thank you for—” Abruptly, he sat up and whipped toward me, eyes locking on mine. “Why did you come?”
I froze, my arm still hovering where his shoulders had been a moment ago. After a couple of seconds, I slowly lowered it as I cautiously replied, “You… said you needed me to?”
Devon studied me. “But…” He swept his tongue across his lips, eyeing me like he suddenly didn’t know what to make of me. “Your texts—I haven’t said a word to you in weeks…”
“I know,” I whispered. “But you needed me. So I’m here.”
He looked absolutely mystified. “You’re missing a game. You…” His eyes lost focus. “You said you’re… at the end of the season…” With a subtle head shake, he whispered, “Why?”
“Because I love you.” Fucking hell, saying those words out loud almost broke me apart. Saying them to him, looking him right in those beautiful eyes, and showing that card I’d held so damn close—Christ, I had no idea how I didn’t cry. Maybe because I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t get it,” he murmured. “I’m just a kid who plays hockey and fucks you until you scream.”
“Do you really believe that after Tofino?”
His wince made guilt burn hot in my chest.
“If you don’t want anything with me,” I went on, keeping my voice soft, “I won’t push.
I promise I won’t. Especially after you got a taste of what it’s like to be a gay player with even a slightly high profile.
If you don’t want to sign up for headlines about you and your old coach?
Your old coach who’s almost twice your age?
I’ll understand because that’s a lot. It’s… fuck, it’s a lot.”
He swallowed. “But if I did want something…” He searched my eyes. “You’d… You’d want it too?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
He didn’t speak, but his eyes screamed the question: Why?
Much like when Amy had asked if the guys respected her enough for her to coach, I almost laughed at the absurdity. I didn’t, though, because he was completely serious. Completely clueless as to why I wanted him.
“Devon, I…” It was my turn to break eye contact because I couldn’t handle his scrutiny.
Couldn’t look him in the eye as the truth tumbled out.
“I love you so much more than I should. It doesn’t matter if you feel the same way.
Or if you’re willing to risk your career—or more bullshit headlines like that—to be with me.
I still love you.” I made myself look at him even as my voice threatened to break.
“I love you, and I’ll be here for you no matter what.
As your coach. As your friend. As… whatever you’ll let me be for you, even if it’s just someone who cheers you on from a distance. ”
“Even after…” He hesitated, then tried again. “Even after I didn’t respond to your texts.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head slowly. “The way I feel doesn’t change. And that means when you need me like you said you needed me now, I’m going to move heaven and earth to get to you. Or… or do whatever it is you need.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I thought…” He dropped his gaze, some color blooming in his otherwise pale cheeks. With a dry laugh, he said, “I thought you’d want to fuck when you got here.”
“Only if that’s what you want.”
He looked at me through his lashes.
“I knew it was a possibility when I came,” I said. “That you’d want sex. Maybe as a distraction. Maybe…” I waved my hand. “But I also knew you might just want to curse out the reporter and then order pizza. All I knew for sure was that you wanted me to be here.”
Devon swallowed like it took some work. Then he reached for my hand, and I thought his fingers trembled as they laced between mine.
“I didn’t know what I needed either. Just…
you.” His jaw worked. When he looked at me again, there was a definite shine of tears in his eyes.
“I didn’t know I needed to hear the rest of that. ”
My heart thundered against my ribs as I squeezed his hand. I didn’t know what to say. Not just what he needed to hear, but what I could even put into words.
Finally, he took a deep breath. “Thank you for being here. And… for being someone it was so fucking easy to fall in love with.”
And then… he kissed me.
And my whole world shifted back onto its axis.