Chapter 16 Kieran
SIXTEEN
KIERAN
“Imight have fucked up.”
Cole looked up as Kieran practically fell into the chair opposite him and sighed, more fond than exasperated. Kieran didn’t often meet with his agent in person, especially since moving to New Jersey. Cole had flown out for a press conference that was more than a little bit Kieran’s fault.
That morning, he’d gotten a text from a slightly frazzled but mostly excited Louis: tomorrow would be the big day.
He jumped on a plane a few hours later to be there in support.
It would be a quick turnaround with the game in Montreal the following night.
Thankfully, his coach understood why he needed to go.
There weren’t many out players in the league, after all, and a friendly face in the crowd was sure to go a long way.
Kieran smiled sheepishly at Cole, taking a moment to prepare himself. He looked significantly grayer than the last time Kieran had seen him in person. Kieran wondered how many of those gray hairs he was personally responsible for.
After a moment, Cole gave him a wave, as if to say, go on then.
Kieran looked around the coffee shop Cole had picked for their meeting. It was a local chain they didn’t have in New Jersey. The place was busy, but everyone nearby wore headphones, eyes glued to their laptops, typing furiously. It was as private as they could get in such a public place.
Kieran leaned across the table and lowered his voice to a whisper, just enough to avoid being heard over the hum of coffee machines and shuffling feet. “I did something I probably shouldn’t.”
Cole sighed and scooped up the paperwork spread in front of him, slipping it into the file in his laptop bag at his feet—endorsement contracts for Kieran to sign, no doubt.
For a terrible moment, Kieran thought Cole was leaving, but then he leaned back, folded his hands on the table, and said, “Something or someone.”
Kieran wrinkled his nose. “Obviously, someone.”
Cole had always been able to see right through him. It was part of what made him so good at his job. The man was impervious to bullshit.
“And how bad will it be when the press inevitably gets hold of this?”
“Pretty fucking bad.”
Cole gave him a look, surprisingly laced with pity. “The official? From March? The one you have history with?”
Kieran nodded, a little surprised he’d admitted that much, but it had been eating away at him for weeks. He’d started to worry that if he didn’t let some of this out soon, he’d explode.
“Please tell me it was just the one time.”
Kieran mumbled something under his breath.
“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.”
“It might have been three…”
Or four, if he counted after the Pittsburgh game, when he got back to his hotel and found Matthieu’s glasses sitting right where he’d left them on the table by the door.
Of course, he’d had to return them; it was only decent.
Since he was already at Matthieu’s room, he might as well have slipped inside and let him pull another orgasm or two from his tired, aching body.
Or five, if he counted the week after, when Matthieu tugged him into a familiar supply closet and took him apart with his mouth, then let a desperate, eager Kieran return the favor.
Or six—seven, really, if he counted both times Matthieu had fucked him this week, and it was only Wednesday.
“Do you want my advice as your agent or friend?”
“Is the advice different?”
“No. Just hopefully how you receive it.”
Cole gave him the kind of look doting fathers spent decades perfecting, a face that said, I love you despite you being an idiot. It was one Kieran had been given countless times before.
“You have to end this.”
Boy, did Kieran know it. But he wouldn’t.
Over the last ten years, he’d let himself go numb to the pain Matthieu’s sudden absence left behind, to the cavernous space in his chest Matthieu had once filled.
He’d spent years trying to fill that hole, pouring cheap hookups and sex with Ivan into it, hoping it might close off some of the emptiness inside him.
All he’d done was dull the ache. It was like taking on a groin strain with nothing but drugstore-brand Tylenol.
He knew he couldn’t have Matthieu again, not in all the ways he wanted or needed.
But he could steal these small moments. Hoard them like precious stones.
Take them out when he felt lonely. Turn them over in his palm, examine them, relive them.
Pretend Matthieu was out there doing the same, wanting the same things.
It was foolish. He knew that. Still, he was powerless to do what needed to be done.
The moment he made that proposition in the supply closet, Kieran had put his entire existence back at Matthieu’s mercy.
Maybe even before that. Maybe it was the moment he didn’t fight back in March, when he let Matthieu’s current pull him under.
“I don’t think I can,” Kieran admitted carefully. He weighed the words on his tongue, each one impossible as it left him, a sad, pathetic confession. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving him, Cole.”
“Loving? Kieran…”
Kieran looked down at his hands, debating how much he should tell Cole.
He’d already revealed the worst of it; maybe the details were his only saving grace.
It wasn’t like he had anyone else to share this with.
His teammates couldn’t know. His family wouldn’t care.
He had plenty of friends, but they all played in or worked for the league.
Even if Cole didn’t want the role, he was Kieran’s only option.
“We played together back in college, at Michigan. It was love at first sight—for me, anyway.”
At the time, he’d been sure it was the same for Matthieu.
They’d been damn inseparable, on and off the ice.
They roomed together on road trips and studied together most nights, despite having zero classes in common.
They’d kissed, laughed, fucked, and been so goddamn in love that the memory now made Kieran nauseous from the sweetness of it all.
“It sounds delusional, but I thought he was the one for me.”
“At twenty-one?” Cole’s tone had softened, almost like he believed him.
“We were young, and it would’ve been hard, especially once I went to LA. I would’ve done anything to make him happy.” Wasn’t that still the truth?
“So what happened?”
“He didn’t want to come out to the team.
He thought it would cause problems.” He laughed because, ultimately, Matthieu had been right, and that still sickened him.
“But when Petrov came out publicly, I couldn’t stand there and let my teammates say all that vile shit.
So I came out, and well… you remember how that went. ”
Cole muttered something under his breath.
Kieran knew he was reliving that phone call, the one he’d made hours after it all went down.
Kieran had begged him to talk to Coach Edstrom about reporting to the team early.
He could tell Cole hadn’t known what to say.
It was out of his wheelhouse, but he’d been there when no one else had.
He was the one who’d helped Kieran put himself back together.
“I knew Matthieu would be angry that I didn’t talk to him before coming out. I kept him out of it. Made sure the team only knew about me. I’d never out someone like that. I guess he felt betrayed. By the time I got to his dorm the next day…”
He’d always beat himself up for taking so long. Dealing with the team, the coach, and calling Cole had taken hours. He’d been drained by the time it was over and crawled into bed instead of making Matthieu the priority he should’ve been.
“…he was gone. All his stuff, too. He wouldn’t answer my calls or my texts. I didn’t see or hear from him again until March.”
Cole’s hand closed over Kieran’s, where it tapped restlessly on the tabletop. The act was so paternal. So calming. So incredibly Cole.
“Unfortunately,” Cole said slowly, knowing full well Kieran wasn’t in a place to hear this, but they both knew it had to be said. “I think all that proves is how bad an idea being involved with him is.”
“That’s the problem, though. We aren’t even involved. It’s just sex. Incredible, mind-blowing…”
“I really do not need to know.”
“Fair. But I have to play by his rules. We can’t hang out. Can’t talk outside of what we’re doing. And whenever I see him, he acts like I don’t even exist.”
“Then this is the best time to end it. Cut him out before you pass the point of no return.”
Kieran had sailed past that point the second he kissed him all those weeks ago.
“It’ll hurt, but ending it now will hurt less and help you avoid a PR nightmare when you inevitably get caught. You will get caught, Kieran. I like to think I’m a damn good agent, but even I can’t make the fallout from a scandal like that disappear.”
Cole was right. Kieran knew he was. One photo of Matthieu sneaking into his hotel room, and the hockey world would implode, taking both their careers with it.
“There are a million guys out there who’d treat you right, Kieran—and I’m sure plenty of them could provide…”
“Incredible, mind-blowing sex?”
“That. You’re a great guy, Kieran. You’ll make someone really happy someday—but make sure that lucky guy makes you just as happy.” Cole didn’t say the or else, but Kieran heard it regardless.
This might’ve been the longest serious conversation they’d ever had without Kieran cracking a joke or saying something self-deprecating. He flipped his hand over and squeezed Cole’s palm once before sliding it back off the table.
“I’m going to grab a coffee, and then we can take care of those papers you brought me to sign.”
He stood, tapped his knuckles once on the table, whispered “Thank you,” and scurried off before Cole could catch how misty his eyes had gone.
At 9 a.m. on a Thursday, in the press room at TD Garden, Louis Kessler told the world he was gay, and no one batted an eye.
This is how coming out should be, Kieran thought.
Well, it shouldn’t have to be a thing at all, but being met with acceptance and respect, especially in a town like Boston, was a win for all queer players.
Cole had handled everything perfectly, and Louis had been on his best behavior, too.
The long exhale the kid let out as he stepped off the stage and took his first steps as an out-and-proud gay man was a memory Kieran would treasure for years to come.
“How does it feel?” he asked as Louis finally managed to extract himself from his sobbing mother, who’d also made the trip for the occasion. The two were practically carbon copies, right down to the identical dimples on their left cheeks as they gazed at each other with matching adoration.
“About a hundred pounds lighter. I didn’t realize how much keeping this part of me a secret was weighing me down. I… I…” He suddenly looked bashful. “Thank you for helping make this possible, Kieran.”
“Oh, well, I just gave you a phone number. Cole did all the work setting it up, and you were the brave one…”
“No, Kieran. Thank you for showing me it’s possible to be queer and play hockey at a professional level.
For paving the way for me and all the other kids like me, who are trying to get drafted.
You have no idea how much it means to have a role model like you.
Watching you be openly yourself and still dominate on the ice changed the entire trajectory of my life. ”
That was, well, a lot. Kieran rarely found himself speechless, but now, he was.
“Anytime, kid.”
Louis groaned. “Kid,” he whined, “I guess that answers whether you’d let me take you out on a date sometime?” Kieran must’ve looked completely panicked, because Louis quickly added, “Dude, I’m kidding. I like my men way older than you.”
“Don’t let Cole hear you say that.”
Louis glanced around, clearly looking for the man himself. “I was actually hoping he would.”
With that, Kieran walked away, smiling to himself and feeling all kinds of smug. He hoped Cole knew what he was getting into with that one.