24. Hux
twenty-four
Hux
O ur trip was over. We’d spent the rest of our downtime in Melbourne together. When Roe and I couldn’t get it up again and Cara was too sore to let us touch her, we did the touristy things—Queen Victoria Market, Hosier Lane, coffee at a hole-in-the-wall café, cakes at a different one, riding the tram and checking out all the historical buildings, seeing one of those old timber sailing ships docked beside somewhere called Jeff’s Shed, and walking along the river while watching gas flames shoot out of the casino every few minutes. Melbourne was cosmopolitan and historical with a vibrancy that I loved. But the weather was shit. It rained non-stop. It was cold and dim too. The sunlight barely filtered through the tall buildings.
But it was also a rush, a blur of colour and laughter and stolen moments together. Getting to know Roe and Cara was incredible. So was our final game. We’d taken the series 4–to–1, and now we were flying to Adelaide to do a fan signing at the city’s ice hockey rink and meet-and-greet at the Children’s Hospital.
I was heading home in less than forty-eight hours.
My phone vibrated from its spot on the coffee table in the airport’s private lounge. We were watching our luggage being loaded as we waited to board the plane.
My agent was calling. I didn’t want to answer it. Fear pulsed in my gut. My palms were instantly slicked with sweat. My heart raced like I’d skated a whole damn game without a break.
Things had calmed down with my teammates. Mironov’s stare wasn’t quite so caustic anymore, and we’d played brilliant hockey. But my luck wasn’t going to hold—I just knew it. This call was the push that would make my carefully constructed house of cards topple.
There was only one reason why he’d be contacting me—my contract—but I didn’t have it in me to face losing my team as well as saying goodbye to Roe and Cara. I really wanted to stick my head in the sand and hope it all went away.
The vibration ceased but lit up again immediately. “Fuck,” I breathed.
“Answer it,” Roe encouraged. I’d told him and Cara just how much I wanted to stay with the Seals—I was bound to be traded eventually; it was the life of a hockey player—but I was afraid. Roe had zeroed in on my fears without a moment’s hesitation. He’d put words to the greasy slickness weighing me down—I’d been passed along enough. I’d been shuffled out of sight too many times already. I wanted someone to stay with me, someone to stick it out. But I knew that the team wouldn’t be the one to do it.
“I know you’re nervous, but this could be a good call too.”
I sucked in a breath and curled my hand around Cara’s, desperate for the security she gave me. How would I do this without them? They’d tell me they had faith and that I could get through anything. But I didn’t want to be without them.
I didn’t want to be passed on again.
With the heaviness in my gut growing, I answered the phone. Forcing a cheery tone I didn’t come close to feeling, I said, “Hey, Grant. How are you?”
“Hux, I’m good. Good to see you having kept out of the tabloids and off social media.” His dig wasn’t subtle, but frankly, I was beyond caring. It was precisely the reason why I knew I was doomed for transfer.
“What do you have for me?” I asked, cutting to the chase.
Grant took the hint and dropped his lecture. “A contract. A good one, too. But first I have some news about Minns.”
I swallowed and looked across to where he was sitting with Mironov. They had their heads together and were talking. Chris looked up at me, his eyes red rimmed and shining like he’d been trying not to cry. Mironov ignored me, an improvement on his determination to pulverize me a week ago.
Grant continued, not bothering to wait for me to speak. “His agent just advised me that he’s going on the player assistance program.”
“What?” I asked, shock surging through me. The whole room tipped as my body slipped forward. I braced my elbows on my knees and rasped, “Why?” My voice sounded strangled and rough.
“I don’t know. You tell me, Hux,” he shot back, all pretence at being polite gone. “Because it seems like his marriage is falling apart and so is he because of your doing, and while he’s struggling, you’re out there finding another woman to throw in his face.”
Like flicking a switch, my shock morphed into anger. Betrayal and disbelief warred for prominence. Fuck him. Fuck this. I was done .
“His marriage is fucking fine,” I seethed through clenched teeth. I wasn’t egotistical enough to think that the world revolved around me, but this was some fucked-up shit. He was actually continuing this bullshit story. He was going to go on leave and pretend to work his shit out with his wife when he was the one to pursue me? They’d wanted my dick and ass as much as I’d wanted to make things work with them. They’d already tossed me away, and now they were throwing me under the bus a second time for good measure? I was going quietly. I hadn’t gone to the press with Minns’s secret. I hadn’t betrayed his confidence—I’d told all of two people, people who I trusted to never breathe a word to another human being. Fuck him. Fuck the both of them.
Grant’s voice was softer, gentler when he implored, “Talk to me, Hux. The team knows something, but Keeley’s not talking. She wants to do a press release, but Minns is refusing. I need to know how to handle things. Explain to me what happened between you and Kamirah.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me walk into this blind. We’re going to have to get on the front foot and have a statement prepared this time. Silence won’t cut it, especially not with the team making waves and this contract sitting on my desk.”
My lungs seized. The air crushed out of me like an accordion being compressed.
The edges of my vision tinged black, and the room spun.
Then Roe filled my line of sight. He was on his knees in front of me. He squeezed my calves as he pushed closer. “Breathe,” he whispered.
I exhaled slowly, and Cara rubbed her hand along my back, soothing me as she cuddled close.
“Copy me,” Roe instructed as he loosened my tie a fraction and sucked in a long, slow breath.
I did the same and followed his lead as he breathed out again.
“Are you okay?” Cara asked quietly after a moment of inhales and exhales.
I nodded and answered Grant, who’d been waiting patiently for me to pull my shit together. “I can’t give you the details, Grant. I’m not somewhere private where we can talk, and I promised them. I won’t break that promise.”
“Alec, don’t you think….” Cara sighed. “Never mind. I’d do the same thing.”
“I need to call you back, Grant.” I hung up and brought Cara’s hand to my lips, kissing her knuckles.
Her smile was sad when she brushed her thumb over my knuckles, showing me without words that she was here for me. Roe eyed me warily, but I knew it was concern for me clouding his thoughts. He was worried about me, about how this would affect me, not about what I’d do.
“I need to have a chat with Minns.”
Monroe rocked back on his heels and stood up, then stepped back, giving me space to walk away from them. I didn’t want to waste a single moment with them—I had such limited time left—but this couldn’t wait.
There were eyes on me, half the team as well as Lebedev and Sawchuck watching as I wound through the waiting area to where Minns and Mironov were sitting. Some were eying what was unfolding before them discreetly while others were outright staring. Hockey players—queens of gossip.
I ignored all of them.
“Minns, a word,” I commanded.
He got to his feet slowly without protesting and moved like an old man, shuffling behind me as I weighed up where we could get a modicum of privacy.
But there was nowhere in the airy expanse of the charter lounge except the bathrooms, so I led him there. I checked that the stalls were empty, then I flicked the lock into place. I rounded on him, the last tether of my restraint snapping.
“What the fuck?” I demanded in a harsh whisper. “Why? Why don’t you just take Kam away for a vacation and reconnect that way? Why are you doing this?”
He met my gaze, and his struggle hit me square in the chest. He looked exhausted, like he’d aged a decade in the few weeks we’d been here. His shoulders were slumped and his back bowed. I ached seeing him like that, not because I missed him or even wanted to ease his burden, but because I was human, and queer too. I knew his struggle. I knew his fear and his innate need to protect himself.
“Because I can’t keep lying to myself anymore,” he admitted and collapsed back against the tiled wall. “I love Kam with all my heart, but I can’t go on like this. I’m not enough for her. She deserves better.”
I tilted my head, processing his words. But I couldn’t reconcile them with the woman I knew. “Has she told you that?”
“No,” he mumbled, turning away from me.
Kamirah loved Minns. He was her whole world. She’d confided in me more than once that no matter who they took into their bed, he was the last person she wanted to see before she closed her eyes and who she wanted to wake up with in the morning. I should have listened harder to the way she less than subtly told me to curb my wayward feelings. I sighed, then asked, “Don’t you think you should ask her how she feels?”
“I know how she feels, damn it,” he shot back, a fragile rage building inside him. He dragged his shaking hands through his hair, then tugged his tie away from his throat. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he growled, the sound more of a pained cry than from anger. “She’s fucking pissed that I didn’t stand up for you, that I didn’t say anything to clear up the reports. And she’s pissed that I made her out to be the villain when it was you and I that night.”
“She’s not the only one.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared him down, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze. “You hurt me, and you’re about to do it again. My agent wants to prepare a press release for when you go on the assistance program, telling the truth about what happened.”
He snapped up his face and looked at me with wide, terrified eyes. His mouth popped open, and his breath hitched. A bead of sweat ran down his face, along his temple, and down his cheek, dripping onto his dark suit jacket with a tiny splash.
“I told him no,” I reassured him, hating that I still wanted to protect his secret. “But people are going to draw their own conclusions—you’re struggling with your mental health because I fucking ruined your marriage. That’s not fair to everyone who is actually struggling—”
“I am fucking struggling,” he exploded, throwing his hands up before he paced the room, spinning on his heel after a few short steps. The click of his dress shoes echoed in the otherwise silent space. “I’m this close—” He squeezed his thumb and forefinger together. “—to losing my shit. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror. You’ve gone and found yourself a cute little bunny, and I’ve been wearing holes in the carpet because of the pacing—”
“I wasn’t the one who threw you away,” I shouted, pointing at him. “I didn’t let people think the worst of you—someone I’d been intimate with for nearly two fucking years—to protect myself.”
I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached and forced myself to stop talking. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t see the pain reflected there because it was so close to my own that I knew I’d break. I turned away from him and braced my hands against the wall, holding myself up with them. I slowed my breathing until I could no longer hear my heartbeat and prayed for a way out of this mess that didn’t involve the inevitable crash and burn that I’d already suffered.
“I know,” he breathed, his tone filled with melancholy and resignation. I shot a disbelieving glance his way, and he sighed. “I know.”
“But you’re going to do it all again, and fuck whatever happens to good ol’ Hux, because he’ll just bounce on someone else’s cock instead,” I seethed, my derision at myself leeching through my words.
He shook his head, his eyes falling closed as a tear tracked down his cheek. “No,” he gasped. “I wanted you back.”
“Never going to happen.”
“I know.” He looked at me again and gestured over his shoulder in the general vicinity of the lounge area and added, “The girl—”
“Don’t.” I shook my head, and his shoulders fell.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor.
“Make this right, Chris,” I begged. I held my hands up before he could even lift his gaze and said, “I’m not asking you to come out—I’d never do that. But, for fuck’s sake, deny the rumours. Make up something. Tell them we were planning your birthday or, fuck, anything. Please.”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I unlatched the door, yanked it open, and nearly ran into Gauthier, who was blocking the doorway. “What the?” I asked.
“Are you okay?” he murmured, stepping aside but stopping me with his hand on my arm. He looked me up and down, probably checking to see whether I was in one piece, and relaxed his rigid stance.
He’d been guarding the door.
He’d heard everything.
“I won’t repeat a word,” he said again in that same soft voice that barely travelled to my ears. “You aren’t alone, Alec.” He squeezed my arm where he still held it and stared straight at me. His gaze didn’t waver.
And I knew.
Gauthier was queer too.
“I….” I blinked.
Gauthier smirked, his eyes dancing with humour. “It’s not every day that I stump you.” He dropped his hand and gestured inside the bathroom with a tilt of his head.
I was still trying to gather my bearings when the door closed behind me and the lock clicked closed again.
Mironov walked up, and every muscle in my body tensed. “Is he okay?” he asked.
“I… don’t know,” I admitted, sagging against the wall. “He needs a friend.”
“I’m sorry, Hux. Minns hasn’t told me what went down, but he said that I had it wrong—that everyone did. I thought you’d done the dirty on him.” Mironov buttoned up his jacket and planted his feet, waiting for me to react in some way.
I didn’t have anything to say to him, so I nodded and walked away, stepping straight into Cara’s arms. Roe was there too, but he held back, waiting for me to make the first move. I was grateful, but I just wanted everything to be simple for once. I just wanted to be myself, to let my guard down and not give a shit whether I was accepted or not.
“You’ve got a message,” Roe said quietly as he handed me my phone. His gaze was soft, imploring me to give him a sign.
I forced a smile and took it from him.
Grant: Check your email
I opened the one he’d sent me and stumbled back. Roe caught me after my knees gave out and led me to the nearby chairs. I sank into the closest one and looked at the email again. Before me was a contract summary—three years with the Seals at a salary of twelve million dollars.
Three years.
With the Seals.
They wanted me. They hadn’t traded me.
My lungs squeezed tight, and I fought to suck in a breath. Roe closed his hand around my nape and squeezed. I choked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob. Fuck me, I couldn’t believe it.
Everything I’d hoped for was coming true.
Regardless of what Minns did, the Seals wanted me. Sure, they could probably withdraw their offer if this thing turned to shit again, but for now, they wanted me.
So why was it so… bittersweet?
Why wasn’t I jumping up and down celebrating?
I should be excited.
But I wasn’t.