Chapter Fifteen #2
Still, ever since I talked to Berg, I’ve been on edge.
On the bus ride, on the plane. And it’s not about guilt for omitting some of the facts.
The last thing I want to do is tell Finn to go away.
It feels like betrayal. But when Finn approached me on the plane, I knew Berg was staring at us, so I had to do it.
People are going to talk about me regardless of what I do or who I’m with, but Finn?
He’s just starting his professional career.
He doesn’t need that kind of pressure or to deal with rumours that will only stress him out.
Hours later, after the plane lands and we disembark, I catch Finn’s eye for a split second. I see hurt and confusion before he turns away, shutting me out. Like he should.
Outside, Kuznetsov, Tullmore, and Sorensen call Finn over, and I watch as the foursome heads off in a rideshare together.
Makela and Berg ask me if I want to ride with them, so we set off for the hotel.
The highway’s jammed with traffic, and I figure it’s going to take over an hour to get downtown.
Pulling out my phone, I tap on my library app and select a book to read.
Anything but romance.
I’m engrossed in chapter three of a hockey biography when my phone rings. The name flashing on the screen has me smiling. I glance up to find Berg giving me a questioning look.
“It’s my brother, Karson,” I explain.
Berg’s expression clears. Jesus, is he going to be tracking my every move now?
Instead of worrying about that, I answer the phone.
“Hey, Kar, what’s up?”
“Heard you’re in my city, big brother. Don’t embarrass yourself tomorrow.”
“Like hell.”
“We’re ready to pound your ass, Kirkland number two!” Makela shouts, loud enough for Karson to hear. “But I guess you’re used to coming in second place, right?”
Makela is wrong. Karson played hockey in the Olympics, and his team did not come in second.
“Is that Makela shooting his mouth off?” Karson asks.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I’d recognize his annoying yapping anywhere,” he grunts. “Tell him to shut it, and if not, I can do it for him by shoving my gold medal in his mouth.”
I try not to laugh and turn to my teammate.
“Karson says hi.”
Makela snorts. “No. What did he say?”
“He said to shut it,” I repeat with a smirk.
He doesn’t need to hear the rest. Makela motions for the phone and I reluctantly pass it to him.
“KitKat, I’m prettier and better than you in every way. And you can shove that gold medal up your ass.”
My laughter at Makela’s comment lets loose.
“KitKat?” Berg mouths, and I shake my head.
I’ll tell him later.
Karson says god knows what in return, and Makela turns redder than I’ve ever seen him, even after a game. Silently, he hands the phone back to me.
“Kar, what did you say?” I ask my brother.
“Nothing you need to know about.”
Karson’s raspy chuckle tells me he’s right: whatever he said, I don’t want to know. While he’s the quietest of our sibling group—relatively speaking—he’s also the one you can never predict. He plays hockey the same way, and that’s why he’s so damn good.
“Tell me.”
“Forget it, bro,” Karson quips. “Now, to the important talk. After you check in, meet me at Dominico’s Wine Bar. I’ve booked a private room for dinner. Bring along your captain and whoever else wants to join.”
“Including Makela?” I add and get a glare from my teammate.
“Anyone but that egotistical prick,” Karson replies dryly, then pauses. “Nah, go ahead, invite him. Chances are, he won’t have the nerve to show his face.”
“I’ll spread the word.”
“Cool.”
Will Finn join us? I need to talk to him, but not with others around.
“Everything okay, Sel?”
There’s an undercurrent of concern in Karson’s voice. My brother can always tell when something’s off with me or with Atticus. He’s got that weird sixth sense.
“Long day,” I lie. “Tired. Hangry.”
Karson, ever the peacemaker in our family, doesn’t push.
“We’ll talk, just you and me, before dinner,” he confirms. “Text me when you’re on the way.”
The call leaves me comforted on the one hand but unsettled on the other. I can’t hide anything from Kar and maybe I don’t want to. Shaking off my unease, I inform Berg and Makela about the dinner plans. Berg says yes right away, but Makela grunts and shakes his head.
I group text the rest of the team and about half the guys respond with a “yes,” including Finn.
Good. Great. I can do this. It’s only a meal with teammates, just like any other day.
Sure. Right. Definitely.
Two hours later (thanks to a delay from a blocked lane), our car finally pulls up to the Landing, a hotel located in the King West neighborhood of the city.
The area’s got a laid-back vibe, full of funky shops, cafés, and popular restaurants.
And when I can’t stay with my brother, the Landing is my fave place in the city, with only seventy suites so it’s very private.
Each suite has tons of natural light and comfy living rooms. It’s kind of like a home away from home.
Several staff members recognize me and checking in takes no time at all.
Soon I’m showered, dressed, and ready to meet Karson.
It’s a fifteen-minute walk to the wine bar, and the exercise helps to burn off some of my nerves.
The air is crisp, the sidewalks crammed with people.
When I turn the corner, I find my brother waiting outside the restaurant, in his usual outfit of black jeans, biker boots, and a leather jacket, a plaid scarf wrapped around his neck.
Kar’s my height, but leaner, with ash-brown hair that’s shaggier than mine, and curling at the ends.
When he spots me, he offers a warm, familiar grin.
“Celery!” he calls out, and I offer an eye roll in greeting.
Karson and Atticus couldn’t pronounce my first name when they were toddlers—so they say—and to this day, the ridiculous nickname sticks.
“You ready to get your butt whooped by my team?” Karson teases.
“Can’t we have dinner first?” I counter.
We reach for each other, hugging tight. My tension eases, if only for a moment.
“Miss you, bro,” I whisper.
“Miss you too. Come on, we have a lot to catch up on.”
Karson leads the way into the restaurant, and not surprisingly, he knows all the staff by name, charming and flirting with everyone until we’re finally seated in a private room that could easily accommodate fifty. After we order drinks—vodka tonics—we talk about family and of course, hockey.
Ten minutes into our catch-up and my brother leans forward, tapping my knee.
“How about telling me what’s really going on with you?” Karson interrupts.
I worry my lower lip. “You sure you have time?”
“Sel,” he warns.
I give him the details about Chicago, the move to New York, and the surprise of meeting Finn again.
I also talk about my new teammates, including the tension with Brady and St. Clare.
Finally, even though I know Hugo will kill me, I confide in Karson about the PR dates with Taylor, and unload about the stress of the last two months and how it’s affected my confidence.
“Jesus Christ, Sel, why didn’t you talk to me about this sooner?” Karson looks at me with worry. “I knew coming out was rough, but what happened in Chicago should never have happened. Those fucking assholes!”
I shake my head.
“We need more queer rep, but given the current hockey culture,” I sigh. “I’m sure there are more guys like me, but they don’t want to risk their careers, especially if they’re just starting out.”
“True. But all that hiding wears on a person after a while.”
I assume he’s referring to my situation, but it’s not the first I’ve heard him say something similar, and I wonder if there’s something he’s not telling me.
Karson’s always made it clear that he’s into casual relationships, but he never talks about anyone.
That’s his business, and I respect the fact that he wants to keep that part of his private life private.
But his comment makes me pause. It’s run through my mind a time or two that he might be queer, but I’ve never asked.
It’s his choice if he wants to tell me. If there’s anything to tell.
Like me, there’s a lot at stake for him.
“Do you feel safe in New York?” he asks.
“I do. I’m sure in time, it’ll work out,” I reassure him. “But I doubt the speculation that follows me will change. Like today, I was informed by my captain that someone on the team, my guess is Brady, thinks my relationship with Finn is more than friendly.”
“Really?”
I nod.
“Just because Finn and I spent an afternoon touring Pike Place in Seattle. We had lunch and walked around, big deal. Finn and I click, so what? We met before, so it’s not surprising we’ve become close,” I explain and run a hand through my hair.
“It’s one of the few positives I’ve experienced given everything that’s happened.
Kar, I can’t tell you what it meant to see Finn on my first day with the Rush.
Damien told me how protective Finn is when it comes to his queer friends, and knowing I had at least one person there to support me—”
Stop talking.
Karson sits silently and I shift in my seat, reaching for my drink.
“You’ve developed close friendships with teammates too,” I continue. “We all have. That’s what happens.”
“Yep. But the way you talk about Finn, it sounds like—”
“We’re not that,” I deny immediately, hating the fact that I’m lying again, and to my brother of all people. “No.”
“Sel?”
“I’m not… I mean, he’s my teammate, for fuck’s sake.”
Karson’s eyes narrow. “Are you upset because the rumor is bullshit or because there’s truth to it?”
My throat tightens as I recall kissing Finn. Even now, I swear I can feel his sweet, sexy lips against mine. His hunger took me by surprise, in the best way, and I thought I was way past revelations when it came to sex.
“It’s… I can’t—” I whisper.
The door to our room suddenly opens, and the hostess steps inside.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, your guests have arrived.”
Karson nods and tells her to bring them back.