Chapter 38 #2
“Not that I owe you an explanation—or that it’s any of your business—but Mickey is really just a friend.
And why the fuck were you following me? What kind of bullshit is that?
Kind of pathetic, really.” I wanted to question why he was in the queer community of Church Street in Toronto.
Although maybe he had just followed me for what, shits and giggles? Or he’d always planned for this moment.
“I know about you and Coach Showalter. Two queers in a pod. I’m just waiting to drop that bomb on the reporter in Vancouver.”
“Like you called the one working for that sleazy tabloid in Toronto?”
He shrugged. “Phone calls are legal. I just suggested you might let loose in Toronto. I didn’t figure you’d be stupid enough to bring your fuck buddy back to your hotel with you. Or that you’d later be hugging him in public.”
“Mickey is just a friend.”
“But Jack is more than that.” Again, with the sly grin.
“Even if we were together, what possible business is it of yours?”
“Favors. He pushed for you to get called up.”
Startled, I momentarily lost my words. Jack had been with me in Tofino.
He couldn’t have lobbied for me. We hadn’t known Cederqvist was even injured.
And Jack wouldn’t have pushed for me anyway.
Wouldn’t have advocated for me more than anyone else.
I wasn’t vain, but even I saw that I was the best left defenseman on the team.
Pells was good, sure, but he wasn’t as good as me.
Jack had even said so—
Shit.
No. Don’t doubt yourself. That’s what this fucker wants. He—
“You realize he’s screwing Lous as well, right?”
Don’t fall for the bait. Of course Jack and Lous aren’t fucking.
I knew that deep in my soul. I loved Jack.
He loved me. He was giving up his career as a coach.
For me. “I’d watch the accusations you’re leveling about someone who is way smarter than you are.
” I gave a derisive snort. “No one is going to believe you. No one is going to give a shit about you.” Except when it comes out later about me and Jack, and this fucker is proven correct, there’s going to be a reckoning.
I straightened my spine. “What do you want?”
“A spot in Vancouver.”
I sputtered. “I have precisely zero say in that. Hell, I can’t even get a guarantee I’ll be staying in Vancouver.”
“True.” His eyes glinted. “But you can have Jack lobby for me. As hard as he lobbied for you.”
I nearly argued with him. Pointed out that Jack wouldn’t do that—especially after we’d gotten involved.
Jack had scruples. Jack knew how things would look if our relationship ever became public.
So you’re just going to keep fucking in private?
What kind of a life is that? Jack’s out.
Does he really have to be a dirty little secret?
Are you going to make him that way? Keep him that way?
“Just fuck off. You have no idea what you’re talking about.
People don’t like guys like you. Guys who try to push others down while climbing to the top. ”
“You think I give a fuck what people think? When I’m in the League, nothing will matter ever again. So, just do it. Get Jack to press for me to get called up. Then your secret is safe—”
“Your beer’s getting warm.” Lous stepped around the corner from the bar area.
Somehow, against all odds, no one had come into this hallway before now.
Hairs rolled his eyes. “Always sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. You think because you’re captain that—”
“I know, because I’m captain, that blackmail is actually, you know, illegal.”
My former roommate’s eyes glinted again. “Not blackmail. A promise.”
“You think you don’t have skeletons in your closet? You’re not as pristine as you pretend to be. So fuck off, Hairs. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
“Regret outing the queer and his lover, the coach? They’ll give me a freaking medal. Or a lot of money.” He pushed past both me and then Lous.
I sagged against the wall.
“Excuse me.” A woman wearing all bright pink with a white cowboy hat pushed past us and into one of the rooms.
Lous held my gaze. “Was he right?”
Jesus. Can I lie? Except I didn’t want to. “He’s…not wrong.”
“Right. You need to call…you know who. You need to figure out if you can ride this out or if you think Hairs is going to blab.”
“I don’t know him well enough.”
“This is only his second season here, so I don’t know either. Hard to get a feel for the, uh—”
A toilet flushed.
He beckoned me to follow him. “Have your meal as if nothing’s wrong. Show Hairs he’s wrong.”
“Lous…”
“Nope. Not tonight.” He gestured with his chin. “And don’t go to Bluejay Avenue tonight. And I only know that place because I delivered some papers to him when Emil asked me to. I live in a townhouse close by.”
The woman in pink left her room and stopped short when she spotted us. “Didn’t know this bar would be such a popular spot. With hockey players, no less.” She grinned. “Go, Calgary.” Then she headed back into the eating area.
“Explains the cowboy hat.” Lous smiled. “Your beer really is getting warm. Maybe you want to order a new one?”
“Nah. One drink, one burger, one drive back to Vancouver. No visit to Blue Jay Avenue.”
Which was exactly what I did.
Back at my condo though, instead of Vancouver. Just for the night, until we sorted things out.
Once I was securely in my space, I called Jack.