Chapter 22
Grayson
Camera lights flash outside our sleek Lincoln Town Car. “How do you do this?” I swallow hard, regretting my agreement to walk the red carpet at the Enforcers Gala. Even though Austin has a face the camera loves, he doesn’t like the attention.
“If it were up to me, I’d sneak in like you.” He rests a sure hand on my thigh. “But I wouldn’t expect the guys to do something I won’t. I’ll make it up to you when we get home.” His last words are breathy, and his hand slides along my leg.
“Are you sure you’ll want company after this?” In the past, after public events, Austin retreated to his room to recover in solitude.
Austin’s head rears back. “Company? We are way past that.” His smile falls, and he stiffens. “Unless you have other plans.”
I bump his shoulder. “What plans could I possibly have? You need your alone time, and I respect that.”
His shoulders drop in relief. “You got a package today, so we have plans. This will be over before you blink. I’ve got you.”
I don’t have time to answer before Finn opens the passenger-side door and pokes his head in. “My handsome twinsies. You’ll exit the car from both sides and take your place behind King. Once he clears the step and repeat, it’s your turn.”
“Step and repeat?” I ask.
My stomach somersaults as I watch Leo, Benz, and Griff in front of the frantic press. Everyone’s trying to be the first to report on any relationship between Leo and Caleb. It’s none of their damn business.
“Signage for the event. Tootles.” Finn shuts the door, silencing the yells from the crowd.
Our car moves up, and since Austin is on the curbside, I have a limited view.
“How mad will Trevor be if I skip the press?” My knuckles turn white as I grip the door handle.
“He won’t be mad at all.” I breathe a sigh of relief before he continues. “He’ll drag your ass right to them with a smile and tell them all about your suit. Then”—he gives me a knowing glance—“he’ll complain to Liska.”
No one wants to be on Liska’s bad side, and insulting Trevor is a capital offense. This idea sounded good in theory, but now that I’m here, it’s so ridiculous.
No one cares about me. I’m the trainer, and they’ll probably ask me to get out of the picture of Austin. And that’s fine. I’m not interested in being in the spotlight.
Austin grabs my hand, and his blue eyes burn with intensity. “All jokes aside. If you don’t want to do this. Don’t. I’ll make an excuse. You can go home in the car right now.”
He’s serious, and it’s my turn to step out of my comfort zone for him. “I’m good.”
He pumps my hand twice and lets go. “Smile. Here we go.” He pastes on his press face and opens the car door.
I inhale the comfort of his lingering scent and do my best to smile, joining Austin as we make our way to the short line.
Damn, I can’t take my eyes off King’s suit as he exits the carpet area.
No wonder Trevor thought I was boring. King has on a green jacket with purple geometric patterns.
Two colors I would not pair, but they work great on him.
From shoulder to elbow, there’s stitching that looks like vertical pleats until there’s a trio of horizontal ones at the elbow.
All the stitching discreetly flatters his build.
His braids have a new pattern to match his suit with no beads, and he has a rare, genuine smile.
The thought sears my brain like a lightning strike. King belongs on the carpet because he’s part of the team. He’s a player and a huge part of their success.
I don’t belong.
I’m not part of the team.
I’m Austin’s roommate and plus one.
This is a terrible idea.
Austin strides up to the press, and Finn pushes me after him.
Austin is answering a question about the last game when I reach his side.
A woman from the crowd, not affiliated with the approved media organizations, yells to Austin. “Who’s your date? I’ll step in if you need me.”
A sports reporter in a long skirt turns to her and fires back. “That’s the team’s trainer, Grayson Ward. Show some respect.”
“Not a date?” the woman asks.
“Actually, my roommate is my date every year, but he avoids all of you,” Austin says playfully and shifts so our shoulders touch. He’s going to start rumors about us if he’s not careful.
“Anything to announce?” someone asks.
I’m frozen with fear. Not only do I have impostor syndrome, we didn’t think about people assuming we’re a couple. Some reporters know I’m bi, and I’d rather Austin not have to deal with questions he’s not ready for.
I take a small step back, but as if he anticipated my action, Austin’s foot slides behind mine and I risk tripping if I back up further.
“A new announcement?” He grins and casually hooks his thumb in his pocket in an unusually cheeky move.
The crowd leans forward and hollers encouragement.
“I’m wearing a Trevor Fox original design.”
The air whooshes out of my lungs, and my head’s dizzy from holding my breath.
Crisis averted.
“Why are you matching?”
Our suits aren’t even the same color, so we turn to each other and notice the color of my tie and pocket square matches his shirt.
My mouth hangs open, and even media-savvy Austin is silent.
I turn to Finn to beg for help, but Trevor breezes up in a long luxurious coat like he’s ready for a runway show.
“It’s the designer’s choice.” He straightens my lapel and pats my chest. “I finally talked this shy, handsome man into one of my suits. And decided the roommates need to match. It’s a running joke on the team.
Don’t scare him away”—Trevor waves a finger like they’re naughty children—“or we’ll shut down the team interviews.
” His voice is light and teasing with a bite behind it as if warning them not to cross him.
I’m mute during the rest of the questions and rush into the hotel ballroom, straight to the bar. Servers are circulating with glasses of champagne, but I need something stronger.
Austin’s entrance creates a buzz, and he can’t follow me, which is a blessing because I need a minute.
There is no reason for me to be here.
I didn’t think this through. Yes, most people know we’re childhood friends, but the stakes for both of us will change if they find out we’re more. It’s the thing I’ve been ignoring, risking my job.
I’ve been dreaming of a life with Austin, my Tinny, not Ace Lapointe, the hockey player.
Reality crashes in, and the noise in my head is deafening.
I’m not Trevor or Leo. I can’t be the partner of a hockey player.
The team never puts me in the press room unless it’s critical. We all know I suck at it. Who am I to think I could handle going to events with Austin as his actual date.
I’d be a PR disaster. Finn would need to hire more staff, or I’d be fired. The choice for the team is easy—starting right winger or trainer. He wins every time, as he should.
The bartender brings me a shot, and I toss it back before he leaves and order another. My palate can’t discern between top shelf and well. I’m a basic bitch.
This will only work if we don’t tell people. I never imagined myself being the type of guy to hide in the closet, but I won’t embarrass Austin. It’s the only way to protect him.
Thankfully, he’s not ready to come out.
Maybe he’ll wait, and I’ll have my life with Tinny away from Ace and hockey fame.
The second shot goes down smoother than the first, and my chest loosens. I order a couple of beers for us but remain in the bar area. Austin will find me when he’s ready. He always does.
“Are you dancing with us tonight?” Lucky hip-checks me and sets his drink on my high-top table. He’s wearing a winter floral pattern suit, and Drake’s matches one of the more muted colors.
“I’m not much of a dancer.” I sip my beer, wondering why they’re wasting their time talking to me.
Drake doesn’t need to roll his eyes to express his disapproval.
“Hello, have you seen your roommate dance? Skill isn’t required, but you’ve got it and rhythm.
Not as much as I do.” Lucky shimmies; his suit accentuates the movements.
“I’m a bird of paradise with grace and body contortions.
You’re a Japanese snow monkey, spinning and swaying for social bonding.
Our captain…he’s more like a seal, clapping off beat. ”
“Harsh.” Austin lifts his knee to the back of Lucky’s so it bends. He’s rough enough to get his point across but isn’t likely to do any damage. I hand him his beer. “Don’t be a keener.”
“Oh, cap, I didn’t see you there,” Lucky says, but no one believes him.
“A what?” Drake rumbles unsure if he should be insulted for Lucky.
“In Canada, a keener is someone who tries too hard like a brown-noser,” I interject.
“Believe me, I don’t need to try, but I’m tryin’ to get your boy to show us his moves later. It’s not fair that he’s working during our pregame dance parties.”
“G’s his own man. He’ll dance if he wants to.
” Austin defends me, but his nudge is tentative as if he’s unsure of my response.
He’s been more protective of me since I left the CHL.
When I first moved to New York to live with him and complete my grad work, he was a guard dog, ensuring no one slighted me.
My reaction should be the last thing he’s worried about.
I refuse to be the one who ruins his reputation.