Chapter 21
Austin
I decide to tag along with Gray for his fitting with Trevor. Most of Trevor’s sales are online, but he rents a small space to display his clothes with a single dressing room and a workroom in the back. It has rich leather and aged wood vibes.
The shop has exposed brick walls and warm wood floors, which contrast with the sleek black metal racks and modern lighting. The minimalistic black wrought-iron desk has a computer, and I assume it’s for cashing customers out.
Each design has only one size, so you shop for the color and cut. Once that’s decided, Trevor finds your size in the back or cuts a rough design for you. He’s a genius with fabric.
When he custom-made my suit, he told me which fabrics, colors, and suit cuts would fit me best, narrowing down the sheer volume of options. It would’ve taken me weeks, and I probably wouldn’t have picked anything interesting.
“It fits fine the way it is.” Gray’s voice drifts from behind the curtain of the dressing room.
“I don’t tell you how to fix up the players, and you won’t tell me when your suit fits.” Trevor’s stern voice leaves no room for argument.
“He told you, eh?” I call.
Trevor pokes his head out, brown hair a mess from running his hands through it. “Don’t worry, you’re next. Since you’re here, you can try your suit on.”
That sobers me. I’m not big on being the center of attention, which is ironic given my career and status on the team. Trevor ducks back into the dressing room.
“No, you’re not showing him. He can see you when you walk the red carpet.”
“We live together. Is this some sort of surprise?” Gray sounds confused. “And I don’t walk the carpet.”
“You guys have loose lips and can’t be trusted to keep your designs under wraps until the night of. This event is the best free publicity for a soon-to-be-famous designer—me. You’re not going to rob me of that by slinking in unnoticed. Not when you look this good. That would be a crime.”
Now I really want to see Gray in his suit. He’s got an impressive body but rarely dresses up. I adjust myself, thinking of how his ass will look in body-hugging pants. Trevor is a master at fitting suits to make us look fantastic.
I hope to get a glimpse of Gray’s suit, but Trevor whisks it away in a black bag. Then it’s my turn.
The dressing room is claustrophobic. It’s not built for someone my size and another person. The two walls are brick, and one’s a mirror opposite a small bench. One of us could easily bring the curtain down in a misstep.
“How do you not murder people with those pins?” I hold my arms up as instructed.
“There’s a first time for everything.” Trevor raises an eyebrow at me in the mirror as a clear warning not to mess with his process. “You look good enough to eat.”
Gray has a coughing fit behind the curtain, and my blush heats my entire body. That’s something we haven’t done yet, but I’m eager for it. Gray wants to take his time, and we’re short on that in the midst of hockey season, even though we’ve been sleeping in my bed every night possible.
He’s inspired me to write a novel of romantic movie quotes on sticky notes for him. So far, he’s gotten all the movie references, but I have some old-school ones from Pride and Prejudice. The internet is my helpful friend in romancing him.
“This will complete the look.” Trevor meticulously arranges a magenta pocket square in my suit coat pocket and has a matching tie. The color is so bold, and that’s not how I roll. “The color coordinates with your suit and enhances the blue in your eyes,” he assures me.
“If you say so.” I won’t argue since the suit fits better than anything I’ve ever worn, and he deserves the acclaim that will come from the team wearing his clothes.
“You’re all set. I’m setting the twins loose on the world.” Trevor slides the jacket off my shoulders.
“It’s not a twinsie day,” Gray says from a few feet away. We are wearing the same socks and shoes and sweats but have on different shirts and coats.
“Did you guys do a wardrobe plan to avoid the shit talk? Newsflash: they’ll find something else to bust your balls over.” Trevor has his back to me as I take my pants off.
We never planned to dress the same, and now we don’t. A flutter of unease runs through me, but I dismiss it. We’re getting back in sync and back to wearing the same clothes. I’d prefer to see him only wear my clothes, but I don’t know how to tell him that without spooking him.
Gray drives us to the practice facility forty minutes away.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
At the risk of sounding like an insecure asshole, I forge ahead. “Do you think it’s strange that we stopped dressing alike? We couldn’t stop showing up in the same clothes, and it doesn’t happen anymore.”
I expect him to laugh or tease me because that’s who we are.
Instead, he holds my hand and laces our fingers.
“We’re fine. It is kinda crazy, but things change.
We didn’t dress the same in the CHL; it sort of evolved.
We could consult Benz and his opinion on universal energy, but that would give us away.
” He brings our joined hands to his mouth to kiss my knuckles.
He always knows what to say to validate my frame of mind and put everything in perspective. “The changes have been stupendous.” I clench his hand. “We have to ensure we stay us. You’re too important to me.”
Gray swallows hard, and my eyes track the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple. “I can’t imagine my life without you.” His voice sounds gravelly, choking with emotion.
“You’re my sunshine,” I say simply. “My world would be bleak without my Grayson.”
His eyes cut to mine, and he leans over the console so our shoulders touch. His body heat is comforting, and we don’t need any more words to express our affection.
The ramifications of what we’re doing hit me. I’ve loved him as my best friend, and now I’m falling in love with him.
We’re rarely apart, and if we don’t work out as a couple, our friendship will suffer. It doesn’t matter that we have decades of history—heartbreak changes everything.
With every fiber of my being, I know I could never purposely hurt Gray. It’s the unintentional that scares me to death. Surviving without him doesn’t seem possible.
He makes it a habit of asking me if I’m sure. And I’m sure of him but not sure of myself. I lost the thread of what is at stake if I can’t be someone he loves.
I’ll do everything in my power to be worthy of him. Much better than a broken best friend who can’t admit he’s bi.
Once we’re in the practice facility, I seek out the one person who will give me solid advice and won’t worry about offending me. Patrik Liska.
My pulse races as I figure out how to approach him, but he does it for me in the equipment room.
“Trevor says you and Grayson are all set for the gala. Thank you for vearing his designs.” His Czech accent is strongest in words starting with a W.
“No need for thanks. He makes us look good.” I take a deep breath. “Can I get your advice?”
Liska sets aside his stick, which he was taping up, and gives me his full attention without saying a word.
I rub my neck. “I feel like a fraud because I recently realized I’m not straight, and I haven’t told the team.”
Grayson’s words echo in my mind, but he’s biased and puts me first. Liska won’t do that.
Liska’s brown eyes bore into me. “You are not a fraud for taking care of yourself and protecting your sexuality. I vould not have come out if I didn’t fall in love with Trevor.”
“I shouldn’t have to protect myself.” That’s cowardly.
“Understanding yourself and how that impacts your life takes time. And it’s private.
You should protect that until you’re ready.
Your life vill be picked apart, and your family vill be in the spotlight.
All your friends and teammates vill be questioned.
” He claps my shoulder. “I’m not saying it’s not vorth it to live your life authentically, but for your peace of mind, you must decide how to do it. ”
“I’m not letting everyone down?” I clarify.
“You are always here for us, and ve know you have our backs even vhen we do stupid shit. Ve have your back, and you cannot let us down.” Liska smacks my ass. “Velcome to the club, brother.”
“Do we have a secret handshake?” I say lamely.
“Once you’ve had your first scandal, you learn the handshake.” He exits the room with no indication he’s kidding.
That’s a lot to process. My parents’ reaction never registered in this equation.
It’s not that they don’t love me, it’s that they won’t want to be associated with any sort of scandal.
My sexuality being broadcast in the press, even if the coverage is positive, would be a scandal in their eyes.
Deep down, I fear they’ll choose their church’s ideals over me.
My mind makes a connection I’m not sure how to handle. My parents taught me that sex is dirty and shameful. No wonder I never enjoyed it until Gray.
I don’t understand why people can’t love who they love and everyone else minds their own damn business.