Chapter 20 #2
I’m sure he has something to do with me getting past the messy breakup, but he’s also created a whole new set of complications…
or at least unlocked them. I’m sure I can sort things out with the rest of the team about how they handled the Crystal situation and how abandoned I felt after my injury.
I’m not sure I can promise Coach Gregors that things are going to be the way they used to be though.
Not when I’m going to be walking around with this secret for the rest of my career, constantly worrying that I’ll slip up and someone will find out.
“I’m not crazy about how long it’s taking you to say anything,” he says.
I bounce my knee again and consider everything carefully, my hand still over my mouth as I work out what to say and just how much I’m willing to promise to keep my place on the team.
“I’m not gonna lie, Coach, I’ve had some hard feelings about the whole thing,” I confess, and he frowns.
“This team has meant more to me than anything else in my life though, and I don’t want to lose it over personal shit.
I can promise you that I won’t start shit with Brody.
As far as I’m concerned, marrying a woman who’s willing to blatantly cheat on her injured boyfriend is punishment enough for him. ”
He chuckles in obvious agreement, and a bold thought enters my mind. It’s risky, but it’s the shot I need to take, I can feel it in my bones.
“My contract is up in one more year. Give me one more season to prove to you that I haven’t missed a step and that what happens off the ice won’t come into the locker room.
If I can’t do it, then I guess I’ll be a free agent or I’ll be in here on my hands and knees begging for a lowball offer.
Either way, I have a hell of an incentive to be the best damn player on the ice this year. What do you say? Give me a chance?”
He studies me for a few seconds with his eyes narrowed and a furrow in his brow before a smile stretches across his face and he thrusts his hand across the desk.
“Deal, kid.”
I manage a full, relieved breath for the first time since I woke up this morning, and I reach out to shake his hand to seal the verbal agreement.
We’re still shaking hands as we both stand up, and everything inside me is telling me to take the win and get the hell out of here now.
But Callan is still in my head, keeping me rooted on the spot and filling my mouth with words I don’t know that I want to actually say out loud.
Coach drops my hand, raising an eyebrow at me when I don’t immediately excuse myself and get the hell out of here.
“Anything else, Ferguson?”
“No.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my shorts. “Well, not officially.”
A second eyebrow joins the first, arching high on his forehead. “Spit it out.”
“Okay, we already shook hands and this question is one hundred percent hypothetical and off the record,” I hedge.
He nods slowly and waits for me to keep talking.
“I’m just wondering what the league’s official position is on…
” Don’t say it. No one needs to know. There’s no such thing as off the record.
I clear my throat and shuffle my feet. “You know… um… players who… uh… aren’t straight? ”
His eyebrows can’t get any higher, but they try. He crosses his arms over his beefy chest and stares me down for the longest few seconds of my life. Should I laugh? Play it off as a joke? Throw someone else under the bus and pretend I was asking on their behalf?
“Honestly, kid, I don’t give a flying rat’s ass who’s gay, straight, nonbinary, or whatever the hell else.
As long as they aren’t doing anything illegal or against their contract, it’s none of my business.
” He rubs his chin and sighs. “I can’t speak for the players though, and it sounds like the kind of thing that has the potential to create chaos in the locker room. ”
He gives me a pointed look that isn’t hard to understand. He doesn’t care if I’m gay or bisexual, but our agreement stands. If anything disrupts the harmony in the locker room, I’m going to be shit out of luck when it comes time to renew my contract at the end of the season.
I nod in understanding, give him a tight smile, and finally turn to leave.
A certain weight has been lifted, but there’s a different one in its place. One thing at a time though. I’m going to take this win for now and figure out the rest later.
CALLAN
I grunt out a set of bicep curls with the free weights then pull my phone out of my pocket for at least the dozenth time since Diego sent me back a thumbs-up and then went radio silent over an hour ago.
Did he get traded? Is he spiraling? Did he already delete my number and get on the plane to a new city, ready to forget the last few weeks and start a new life somewhere else?
I close the text thread and open my news feed, which I’ve curated into the perfect blend of sports content and gay shit, and I scroll for a minute, looking for any headlines hinting at hockey trades.
Nothing. I have no clue how long it takes this kind of stuff to hit the internet though since I’ve never personally known any players who got traded before.