Chapter Twenty-Two
Adrian
I asked Rob for the day off since win or lose, I wanted to be with Rip as a boyfriend and not a reporter.
Watching the joy on Rip’s face as they celebrated their win, I didn’t understand why the fans were on the ice, but Neil explained that they often joined the players when the team won the division championship.
“Come on.” Neil pointed up the steps. “We’ll meet him outside the locker room after he does the press conference. Trust me, we don’t want to be near him until he takes a shower.”
“You got that right. Talk about smelling rank.” Laughing, I walked with him, the elated fans jostling us as they hustled past us.
Neil checked his watch. “I told Lisa I’d be late as it was the final game. If they won, I’d go out for a drink to celebrate, and if they lost, I’d go out for a drink to help drown his pain.” He leaned against the wall. “How’s it going with you two?”
“Fine.” I allowed a quick smile, my mind still on the earlier conversation with Rob. “But I have a meeting with Rob and the news director tomorrow about the show.” Staring off into space, I voiced the fear I’d kept to myself. “I think they’re not gonna give me the show after all.”
Startled, Neil peered into my face. “Why the hell would you think that?”
“I don’t know. He sounded so serious, and there’s no reason for the two of them to want a meeting. If he wanted to tell me the show is a no-go, he could just put me out of my misery.”
Neil’s lips twitched. “Rob isn’t like that. And I think you might be surprised.”
“Why? Do you know something?”
Neil shook his head, sending my hopes crashing. “No, but I know him. Wait and see.”
“And you haven’t heard anything?”
His brows knitted. “No? Why would I?”
I chewed my lip. “I don’t know. Just that you got me the job—”
“Again with this? I got you the interview. You got yourself the job. And kept it. And from the show I saw, you did great. But I also saw you two on The Huddle. The way you two behaved with each other…it’s gone beyond pretending to be boyfriends, hasn’t it?”
As much as I wanted to tell Neil the truth, Rip and I had already discussed not telling him anything until the season was over. And it sure as hell wouldn’t be in a public forum, with drunk, screaming fans surrounding us.
“Nothing’s changed between us.”
How had I become such a good liar? Because from that night on, everything had changed—the world had turned upside down. Rip said he loved me, and nothing would ever be the same.
“I’m gonna let that slide because you have this meeting tomorrow. Let’s do some role-playing.” Neil folded his arms. “I’ll be Rob.” He pulled his thumbs through imaginary suspenders and pursed his lips. “So, Adrian, before we get into why I called you here, tell me how you think you’re doing.”
I snickered because the imitation was spot on. “I, uh—”
Neil put up a hand. “First mistake is hesitating. Be prepared with an answer to that question.”
“Such as?” My insecurities spun a spiderweb of fear around me.
Neil frowned. “Come on. You know what to say. Stop letting him intimidate you. Think.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, then straightened my shoulders and met Neil’s gaze. “I’m doing great. Everyone I’ve met who’s seen the show loved it and asked me when the next one will be aired. I asked good questions, not cookie-cutter ones. And I’ve prepared for the next show.”
Neil broke out in a smile. “Now that’s the perfect answer. Confident without being cocky. Plus, it shows you’ve already planned for the future.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You speak exactly like that, and you’ll be fine. Rob wants winners working for him. And you and that show will be winners.”
“Thanks.” Something still bugged me. “Have you heard anything about Louie? I tried calling him, but he’s always in therapy or the person helping him answers and says he can’t come to the phone.”
“No.” A puzzled expression settled on his face. “Do you want me to make some inquiries?”
About to eagerly accept, I stopped. Time for me to grow up. Handle my own shit. “Thanks, but I’ll wait until tomorrow and try and find out myself.”
“You’ll let me know, of course.”
I heard the excited voices of the fans calling out their favorite players.
“Seb, Seb. Sign my program, please?”
“Look, it’s Rip. Rip, you were great. Can I get a pic?”
“It’s Chitty and Peter.”
I nodded to Neil. “Yeah, definitely. Good news or bad.”
We hung back, letting the people get their time with their stars. Watching Rip, I couldn’t help but notice him favoring his knee. An almost imperceptible falter, but knowing intimately every inch of Rip’s body, that slight hesitation was apparent and troubling.
Neil nudged me. “God, I hope he wins the Cup this year. He’s hurting—I can see by how slowly he’s walking.
I’m not sure how much longer he can do this without really injuring himself.
The guy’s given everything to the game, and I’m afraid it’ll catch up with him.
” His face was grim. “Age is a ruthless thief of joy in hockey.”
Rip laughed at something someone said to him as he signed their cap, but my heart ached for him. Perhaps he sensed my stare, because he turned around and gave me a wink.
“Okay, everyone. Be sure to get your tickets, because the final against the Polar Bears is gonna be epic. Love you all. Catch you later.” Rip waved and joined us. “Thanks for waiting. Great night, huh?”
He hugged Neil first, then me, leaving his arm slung casually over my shoulder.
A warm glow settled in my chest as people streamed past us, a few rolling their eyes, but more shouting words of encouragement to Rip.
I even caught a few nods of approval directed my way.
One couple wearing matching Blades Pride T-shirts walked by but stopped and retraced their steps to us.
Both were in their mid-to-late fifties, in good shape.
The taller of the two had ebony skin offsetting a beautiful white beard, while the other was freckled with a head full of russet waves.
Their hands were entwined, but I saw the gleam of wedding bands.
“We’re sorry. We don’t mean to interrupt.”
I tried to step away, but Rip held me firmly. “You’re not. At all.”
The bearded man shot me a quick look before addressing Rip. “We’ve been fans of yours from the beginning, but since you came out and became an advocate for LGBTQ sports players, we’ve followed your career. I hope you know what an inspiration you’ve been.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. I’ve tried, along with other players, to normalize queer players in sports.
It’s why the GAINS organization is so important, not only for players, but for fans.
When players from all sports get together, we can push boundaries.
When I was a kid, I never thought I could be an out-and-proud NHL player, but here I am.
And our ranks are growing every day. This helps people believe they can be whatever they want to be. ”
“It helped our son. He grew up watching hockey, and he’s a huge fan of yours. He came to us from foster care six years ago when he was twelve, and now he’s gotten a hockey scholarship to college.”
Rip pulled out his phone. “Give me your email. I’ll make sure the three of you get tickets to our opening game.”
“What?” They spoke in unison, staring at us in shock. “That’s…so incredibly generous. We weren’t asking—”
“Of course not. But I’m offering.”
“He means it. Go on,” I urged. “You’ll have an incredible time.”
“Th-thank you so much.” They each gave Rip their email and left after shaking his hand and taking several pictures.
“That was very nice of you,” Neil said.
“I’m a nice guy, don’t you know?” He again put his arm around my shoulders, and we walked out of the arena. “There’s a big celebration at Slapshots. Tonight’s the night to let loose. You coming?” Rip asked Neil when we made it outside to the street.
“I thought I might, but it’s running late and I gotta get home. After the finals, you’ll come to the house, and we’ll hang out.” He hugged Rip. “Take care of yourself.”
I could hear the concern in his voice, one I shared. Rip either ignored it or didn’t notice.
“Sounds like a plan.” Rip squeezed me. “Ready? All the guys will be there, and I want you to meet Seb’s wife, Jolie. He told me she got a babysitter to watch the girls tonight.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Even after these past few months together, it still took me a moment to reconcile my anonymous old life of solitude with this new social, public life. I should’ve realized he’d be celebrating their win.
“You okay?” Concerned eyes met mine. “Is something the matter?”
Tonight was Rip’s night to celebrate. There was plenty of time for me to prepare for the meeting tomorrow with Rob. I beamed a bright smile. “Not at all. Time for me to buy you a drink.”
Neil whispered in my ear, “Tell me how it goes. Talk to you tomorrow.”
He got into the car he’d called for, and we watched the headlights melt into the hoard of cars leaving the underground parking lot from Blades Arena. Rip took my hand, and I laced our fingers together as we walked to the bar.
“You were so good tonight.” I leaned to put my lips to his ear. “And so hot. All I thought of was, that’s my guy on the ice.”
His eyes glittered, catching the streetlights above. “Initially I couldn’t find you, but I sensed you were there, somewhere in the crowd. It’s like a force pulling me toward you. I know when you’re near me, and it gives me strength that I have someone always in my corner, cheering me on.”
“I’ll always be there for you.”
He kissed me right there in the middle of Flatbush Avenue, with the lights of Blades Arena shining blue and gold down on us. Cars honked as they drove by, and Rip laughed against my mouth.
“Seems we’re giving Downtown Brooklyn a show.”
I held him around his neck. “Bring it on.”
**