Epilogue
ARCHANGEL
After our championship win, the lead-up to the draft is chaos. Everyone eligible on the team is pulled in a hundred directions. I have more than a couple of offers for agents, and a lot of shock when I tell them I won’t be playing pro.
“Are you sure you don’t want to see where you get drafted?” Wolfe asks as we walk in.
I side-eye him and almost get distracted by how good he looks in his new Saint Laurent suit. His new agent is in the process of negotiating an exclusive deal with them for Wolfe’s pregame looks, and I couldn’t be happier.
“A little late now to ask me that, don’t you think?”
Wolfe shrugs. “They can still try to draft you.”
“I know.” I’m not looking forward to it. I’m sure some believe I’m here hoping it will happen, and not to support my partner.
“What if we get drafted to the same team?”
“Do you want me to keep playing hockey?” This is the first I’m hearing of it.
“It’s going to be weird without you, is all.” Wolfe shrugs, reminding me how much I love him. “If it won’t make you happy, then I’d never want you to do it.”
I bump my shoulder into him, stepping aside when the photogs ask for just photos of him.
The draft is a whole production. A lot like what I’ve seen about football.
People in suits, agents, players, teams making complex decisions.
It feels a little like we are in a movie.
Wolfe is carrying it well, but I can tell he’s nervous.
I’m not sure why. I reassured him more than once that it doesn’t matter where he is drafted to, but I think it’s still weighing on him.
His agent briefed us before on how the draft would probably go, and despite being top of the rank, we don’t expect him to go in the first ten.
As goalies are notoriously hard to scout and develop, they don’t usually go until later rounds.
It’s a little better with the draft occurring after some college time, but still, most goalies need years of training to get to an NHL-ready level.
Then since it’s such a mental game, it’s hard to tell who will handle the pressure of a high draft pick well.
So we settle in for a long evening with the guys, not expecting him to go until late tonight or early tomorrow.
“Are you nervous?” I lean over and ask Seaborn.
“I’m fucking past nervous. I’m numb.” He laughs, then drops his voice. “I just don’t want to end up on rival teams again.”
“No shit. And hopefully not on opposite ends of the country.”
“For real. What about you? Any place you’d like to end up?” Seaborn asks.
I glance over at Wolfe. “Not the south.”
“Second that,” Wolfe adds, then asks Ktytor, “What about you?”
“Is not that important. Like Seaborn said, something to make our life easy, mostly.” Ktytor smiles over at Seaborn.
As much as I want to dislike him, I don’t.
“Can I sit with you guys?” Mark says sheepishly.
“Dopey!” Ktytor stands, opening his arms.
“Don’t fucking start, Snow,” Mark warns.
It takes me a second to process what was just said. “Wait, do you call him Dopey?”
Ktytor laughs hard. “Is true.”
“This is the best fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” Wolfe bursts out laughing.
“Fuck off, all of you.” Mark acts like he’s going to walk away, but Ktytor grabs him.
“Sit. I promise I won’t tell your new team.” Ktytor pulls out a seat for Mark.
“Is it okay?” Mark asks me and Wolfe again.
“It’s cool with me. Wolfe?” I ask.
“Fuck yes. We’re good.” Wolfe holds out his fist.
Mark bumps it, then sits a little awkwardly.
“How’s my sister?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
“You’ll have to ask my lawyer.”
Wolfe gasps. “Really?”
“What happened?” I ask because my mom hasn’t said a fucking word.
“I stayed for a couple of weeks, hoping I could get past the lies.” Mark breaks eye contact, staring off into the distance. “But living together, I noticed more and more lies. Then I started to feel like our entire life was a lie and that I’d never be able to trust her.”
Wolfe puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really sorry, man.”
“Not your fault. I’m just glad I know.” Mark offers a slight smile.
“Is better for you. She is already hooking up with Levitt,” Ktytor says, and everyone turns to look at him.
Levitt is a pro goalie for Boston.
“Are you kidding?” Mark asks, shaking his head.
“Sorry. Sleepy told me.”
Mark grinds his teeth but doesn’t say anything else.
“What is it with her and goalies?” Wolfe asks.
“I wish I knew,” Mark says.
“But you’re better off, man,” I add. “I’m sure you’ll be happier.”
“I know,” Mark says, and then we are all silenced as the first team is about to announce their pick.
Ktytor is drafted by the Dragons, and we all congratulate him. Seaborn is beaming, so I guess Ktytor in NYC is a good thing in their mind.
It’s some time before Chicago is up for the #2 pick. They say Wolfe, but I must be hallucinating. It can’t be. But all the guys are congratulating him. Goalies are never fucking picked second.
Wolfe pulls me into a hug, and I force myself out of my head, congratulating him. He’s shaking as he goes up to get his jersey.
“Are you okay?” Seaborn asks like I look disappointed.
“Yes, I’m amazing.”
“Maybe tell your face,” Mark says.
I flip him off. “I’m in shock.”
Chicago.
Wow.
I’m speechless and so fucking happy.
Wolfe goes to do photos with the team and interviews.
Finally, my smile catches up with my emotions.
Maybe this is why it’s so long between every draft pick.
We all need time to emotionally process what is happening because just when I start to process that we’ll be in Chicago, Seaborn is picked by the Dragons as well.
They quickly take Seaborn for all the nonsense, leaving just me and Mark at our table.
We’re still reeling along with the rest of the room when Mark pulls up an article that explains what happened.
In a surprise to nearly everyone, the Dragons did some last-minute trading for the third pick and were expecting to take someone else as they thought Seaborn would be scooped up by Chicago second.
So they jumped at the chance to have both the best defensive player and offensive player of the draft.
Wolfe: Come here. I want to introduce you.
Archangel: Are you sure?
Wolfe: I’m sure.
Wolfe: They told me in private after photos they are cultivating a very queer positive environment in Chicago and the team knows that.
Tears well up in my eyes. I hoped they would be on the less homophobic side considering the way Chicago is as a city in general, but you never know what a team’s culture will be.
I find Wolfe and the members of management there, and he hugs me before introducing me. I shake their hands.
“We don’t know if you’re going to be drafted, and then we can’t really do this, but if you aren’t…” The owner holds up a jersey with my name on the back. “If you want to walk on.”
All I can do is laugh.
“Think about it.”
“I’ll think about it,” I promise.
Wolfe slips his hand into mine. “You could juggle grad school and playing, right?”
“It’s like you never want to have sex again,” I whisper when the conversation drifts off in another direction.
He gasps. “How dare you!”
“You want me never to sleep?”
He winks. “I want you to sleep sometimes.”
Of course, he would turn this dirty.
“We’ll see how grad school applications go,” I mutter before we get drawn back into the conversation.
It’s late when we get back to our hotel, and I’m tired, but all I can think about is taking that suit off him.
“Come here, fiancé.”
“Why?” he says, acting coy.
“Because I want to climb my professional hockey player like a tree.”
He fake gasps. “Are you objectifying me?”
“Of course I am. Isn’t that the whole point of letting you put a ring on it?” I hold up my hand, teasing him right back.
“You’re going to fit right in with the other WAGs.” He grabs the back of my neck and drags me closer to kiss me.