Chapter Twenty-Five
“Holy shit,” Maria muttered. “He’s back.”
Kip turned from where he’d been restocking the bananas to see—“Scott!”
He was standing there, in his running clothes, face sweat-slicked, just like the first time he’d walked into the shop. Except with more beard.
Kip hadn’t meant to say his name like that. Surprised. Familiar. He’d just been thrown. Hopefully Maria would chalk it up to his supposed fanboy crush on Scott Hunter.
“Hey,” Scott said, his voice soft and uncertain.
“Um, can I…help you?”
“Yeah,” Scott said, with a shy smile. “I was thinking it might be good to…return to basics.”
“Oh.” What does that mean? “So…blue smoothie, then?”
“Please.”
Kip made the smoothie and Maria smirked at him. He ignored her.
He handed the drink to Scott, whose eyes darted over to Maria, and then back to Kip. He could almost see the “fuck it” pass through Scott’s brain.
“I, um… I wanted to see you.”
“Oh.” Kip braved a glance at Maria. She looked like the cat that caught the fucking canary.
“The game’s tonight, and I was hoping…”
“Oh.” Kip deflated. “You need your good luck charm there or something?”
“No! No, that’s not—” Scott’s eyes darted to Maria again. He lowered his voice, not that it mattered. Maria was very obviously hanging on every word. “I want to talk to you. Alone. Soon. Please, Kip.”
Kip saw the anguish in Scott’s eyes and a flicker of hope sparked inside him. Was it possible that Scott wanted to fix this as badly as Kip did?
“All right,” Kip said.
“Can we meet somewhere? After you’re done here?”
“I actually have somewhere to be this afternoon.”
Scott looked devastated.
“No, I mean it,” Kip said quickly. “I’m not brushing you off. I really want to talk to you. Really. A lot. Like…so much.”
“Okay. I’ve got the game tonight and all, so…maybe—Would you come to the game? Do you think?”
“Yeah,” Kip said. “Sure. I’ll be at the game tonight.”
Scott nodded. “Good. Okay. And maybe after we could…get together. Somewhere?”
“Sure. I’d like that.”
Scott’s face brightened. “Yeah? Well—” He leaned in, just the tiniest bit, and Kip’s breath caught. But then Scott took a quick step backward and said, “—I’ll see you then.”
“All right.”
Scott left and Kip waited as long as possible to turn and face Maria.
“What. The. Fuck,” she said.
“Okay, that probably looked—”
“So you two are—?”
“Sort of. I don’t know. Just please don’t tell anyone.”
“Holy shit!”
“I’m serious! Don’t say a word. Promise me, okay?”
“I promise! Of course I promise! But you have to tell me something. I need some details!”
“One detail.”
“One?”
“One.”
She made a face that implied that she was thinking very hard, then grabbed a cucumber out of the fridge and laid it on the counter. She picked up a knife and held it near the center of the cucumber. “Okay, you tell me when I hit the approximate length.”
“No.”
She moved the knife a bit.
“Come on. I’m not doing this.”
She moved it again and raised an eyebrow.
Kip glared at her, and then rolled his eyes and said, “A bit farther.”
Maria screamed. “Oh my god! I knew it! You lucky bitch!”
“All right. Enough. Seriously. Keep this to yourself, okay?”
“I will. I will. I promise,” she giggled.
Kip laughed a little, relieved that there was someone else who knew about his relationship.
His relationship that he was going to make damn sure he fixed tonight.
* * *
Scott felt good.
His hands were bandaged inside his gloves from the fight the other night, but he felt good. Centered. Focused. They were going to win tonight. He had no doubt of it.
He had been ignoring the headlines, and the commentary on the sports talk shows. He knew it was there, though. What exactly is wrong with Scott Hunter?
He shut it all off. None of that mattered. Each game was a fresh start. They were down two games, they would win the next four. No problem.
His teammates seemed to sense the change in him too.
They weren’t looking at him with concern in their eyes; they were looking to him for strength.
They were nodding back at him, silently communicating, You’ve got this.
We’re with you. All the way. Kip was here, at the game.
Seeing him here in his usual seat filled Scott with strength and confidence. It wasn’t superstition; it was love.
He would work things out with Kip tonight. He would make sure of it.
* * *
“Whoa, shit,” Elena said. “Looks like Scott got his groove back!”
They were standing and applauding wildly with the rest of the crowd. Scott had scored his second goal of the game, making it 5–2 for the Admirals late in the second period.
Maybe it was the hometown advantage, or maybe Scott had managed to find his focus. Or maybe the smoothies were magic, after all. Either way, Kip was relieved and happy.
And really fucking proud of him.
* * *
Kip received a text from Scott shortly after the game.
Would it be all right if we met at my place?
Kip had been hoping he might suggest it. Sure. You want me to go there now?
Scott: Yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I can.
Elena hugged him and wished him luck. They’d had a long conversation before the game. Her opinion was that Kip and Scott were both idiots.
It was weird how much Scott’s luxurious apartment building felt like home to Kip now. He had to remind himself, as he walked into the enormous living room, that it wasn’t his home. But it was comforting to be in the familiar space again.
The wait, however, was agony. He knew Scott would be a while, but it seemed like an eternity. Kip sat on the couch, and then at the kitchen counter, and then paced around the living room. When the door finally clicked open, he was standing at the windows.
For a moment, Scott stared at him as if he couldn’t believe he was really there. Then he said, in the softest voice, “Kip.”
“Hey.”
He was wearing one of the bespoke suits he was required to leave the rink in. His beard was thick and his hair was longer than usual. He looked so fucking good.
Scott crossed the room until he stood an arm’s length away.
“Congrats on the win,” Kip said awkwardly.
“Thanks.” Scott’s hands, his bandaged fingers, were flexing at his sides. He was staring at Kip like he’d come back from the dead. “I’ve missed you.”
Scott’s voice broke on the last word. Kip did the only thing he could think to do—the only thing he wanted to do: He opened his arms. And Scott fell into them.
“I’m so sorry,” Scott whispered into Kip’s shoulder. “I never wanted you to leave. Please give me a chance to make it better.”
“Shh.” Kip kissed the top of Scott’s head.
They stayed that way for a while, wrapped up together and breathing each other in.
“Let’s sit,” Kip said, taking Scott’s hand. He held it gently, brushing his thumb over the bandages as he led him to the couch.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Scott said.
“Me too.”
“I’ve been miserable.”
“Me too.”
“I’d be lying if I said that the idea of coming out doesn’t still terrify me.”
“I know,” Kip said. “I’m putting too much pressure on you, especially now. So maybe I can back off a bit and be more patient.”
“But you were right, Kip. You were right about everything. You shouldn’t have to hide. You shouldn’t be my secret. You deserve so much better than that.”
“You deserve so much better too, Scott.”
“I know I do. I’m just…scared.”
“Can I ask,” Kip said carefully, “what exactly it is you’re afraid of? You keep saying, your career, or your privacy, but I know the NHL has, like, Pride nights and stuff.”
Scott scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked exhausted.
“Sorry,” Kip said quickly. “I just… I guess I feel like maybe there’s something I’m not understanding here.”
“You’re right,” Scott said, “about the league. They are trying. And teams are supposed to have a zero-tolerance policy about homophobia, but…” He sighed.
“When I was a kid, I mean, hockey was my whole life. And, in that world, being gay—that was the worst insult. The lowest thing you could be. I can’t even tell you how many times I had to hear…
well, every homophobic comment imaginable. It was pretty relentless.”
“Aimed at you?”
“At me, at everyone. It was just what you said if you wanted to get under a guy’s skin. Or if you were mad. And everyone accepted that. But when I started to realize that I might be that thing that my teammates all considered so repulsive…”
Kip took Scott’s hand. Scott swallowed and continued, “You have to remember, I went to boarding school—a hockey-focused boarding school—so there was no escape. And I hid. I hid my secret as deep as I could because I couldn’t hide the rest of me.
I was the biggest star at that school, with NHL scouts coming to watch my games even then.
And I knew—I mean, I thought, but I probably would have been right about it—that if I was caught with another boy, if anyone even thought I wanted another boy, it would all be over. ”
“Was there a boy?” Kip asked quietly.
Scott smiled sadly. “There was a boy. Later. In Junior. My teammate, Jacob.”
“Did you guys…?”
“No. I don’t know if he was… But I think, maybe. He might have been looking at me too. But neither of us would have acted on it. The risk was way too high.”
“But you wanted him.”
“Desperately.” Scott laughed, humorlessly. “I thought I was in love with him.”
“God. That must have been agony.”
Scott shrugged. “I forced myself to ignore it. Focus on what was important. Get to the NHL.”
“And the NHL wasn’t any better?”
“I can’t really explain it. It’s one thing for the NHL to wave the Pride flag and talk about inclusion—and that’s great, really, I’m not saying it isn’t—but the locker rooms, and on the ice, and on the road with the guys…
I don’t know. I never felt comfortable being honest about that part of my life.
I don’t think I’d be looked at the same way again. ”