Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ETHAN
I make it as far as the bathroom before losing the contents of my stomach. Hunched over the toilet with sweat on my brow, I clench my eyes shut.
This can't be happening. After fifteen years, it cannot end like this. I consider whether a call to Jack is necessary – I'm sure he'd like to get ahead of my idiocy before it breaks in The Neutral Zone.
Gay Kiss Shakes Huskies
Closeted Captain Caught
Nope. No. I am not going to tell Jack Kinkaid that I kissed a teammate.
For one thing, I'm pretty sure it would get back to my dad.
And for another – what the fuck is he going to do?
Either Carter will tell someone or he won't; someone saw or they didn't. If either of those things happen, I am fucked.
I splash water on my face and, checking to make sure the coast is clear, head downstairs. I sneak out before anyone can see me and go around the corner. I pull out my cell phone to call an Uber, then shoot Alexei a text.
Ethan Tremblay 1:25 AM
Gonna head home, not feeling great.
Too many shots, probably.
Alexei Kovalenko 1:27 AM
***
Where have you been?
I can go with you
No. Absolutely not. If Alexei even sees me right now, he will know something is up.
Ethan Tremblay 1:28 AM
Nah, stick with Carter.
Already in my Uber
Make sure he has a good birthday.
Alexei Kovalenko 1:29 AM
I think he left
Maybe he found a birthday hookup
Oh, shit. That can't be good.
Ethan Tremblay 1:30 AM
Still, you gotta make sure Finn gets back okay.
Do that for me, will you?
Alexei Kovalenko 1:32 AM
Will do.
Is cute, that kid. Like puppy.
With a concrete job ahead, Alexei seems more willing to let the conversation drop. Soon, the Uber pulls up to the highrise I call home. I leave a generous tip, unable to remember most of the ride.
At home, I jump in a shower, as hot as I can get it. I may not love my condo as a whole, but at least it has a nice bathroom. I sit on the floor of the enormous shower, the water beating down on me, and for the first time allow myself to really remember it.
His blue-gray eyes.
The blonde curls falling in his face.
His soft lips as they met mine.
I lean my head back against the wall and think, for just a minute, about how it could have gone. How his mouth could have opened against mine, his hands could have grabbed for me, holding me closer instead of shoving me away.
With that memory, I come back to Earth. It was never going to go that way.
What did I think would happen? That his closeted, old captain would kiss him and he'd, what? Kiss me back? Agree we should hook up?
That was never going to happen. Instead, here I am wondering whether HR or The Neutral Zone should be my bigger concern.
Eventually, I drag myself out of the shower and throw on sweats. I sit on the couch, trying to watch ESPN. But as they discuss the likelihood of success for each team this season, I can't help but wonder – did I just put an end to my NHL career?
For fifteen fucking years, I've kept this secret. Kept myself to quiet hookups in dark bars and sleazy hotels. Fifteen fucking years of hiding and it disappears like this? With some fucking rookie on a fire escape?
I don't even know why I did it. One minute I was there, getting air after doing shots with the rookies and then there he was, with those eyes and those muscles and those fucking lips. You'd think after fifteen years of practice, I'd be able to resist a cute blond.
But then I think about his laugh, and the way his hair fell in his eye, and the smile when he scored in practice. And for a minute, I think – I'd do it again.
Around 4 AM, I must drift off for a bit; I wake up as the sun starts to peek back up over the horizon. As I watch its colors shift from red to pink to orange, I know I only have one choice. I grab my keys and catch the elevator down to the garage, sliding into the driver's seat of my SUV.
On autopilot, I drive back toward the arena, and eventually past it. I take a series of turns I know too well, finding myself in front of the hotel where the team puts up the rookies until the end of preseason. I pull up outside the hotel and consider my options.
A normal person would just sit here and wait for him. But there's a lot of moving parts in that plan. What if he comes down with the other rookies? What if he's running late? What if he leaves before I see him?
No, there's no way around it. I need to go in.
As I walk in, I carefully look around the lobby – if any of the other guys spot me, I'll have a hell of a time explaining my presence here. Luckily, the coast is clear.
I walk up to the front desk and put on my most charming smile.
“Hello, ma'am, good morning.” The woman behind the desk turns her tired face toward me, but I notice her eyes open a little when she takes in my face.
“You may not know me, but I'm Ethan Tremblay, captain of the Minnesota Huskies.”
I see the look of victory in her eyes, knowing she had guessed my identity correctly.
“Of course, Mr. Tremblay. How can I help you?” her smile turns extra sweet and, if I'm not mistaken, flirtatious.
“Well, you see...Pam...as I'm sure you know, the team is heading out for our first road trip today. And I'm a little worried about some of the rookies staying here – that they might sleep in, or not know what to pack. I thought I'd come by to help them out.”
I see a brief flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, which flick toward the clock. It isn't even 6 o'clock yet.
“I was hoping I could get a list from you of their room numbers? I'd really like to avoid waking up our player relations people if I can avoid it.”
I smile warmly at her and, miracle of miracles, she starts typing into her computer. Within a minute, I have a printout of each rookie's name and room number. Seeing that Carter is in 308, I head to the elevator.
For a moment, I reconsider. I could just turn around now. Go home, maybe call my agent. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
But when the elevator doors open, I know that's not what I'm gonna do.
No, I walk straight up to room 308 and knock on the door.
For a moment, it's silent – of course it is, it's barely past dawn.
But soon enough, I hear stirring inside and Carter comes to the door, dressed in a Huskies t-shirt and boxer briefs.
When he sees me, confusion and anger war on his face.
“What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.” I push inside his room, disregarding his huff of anger.
Inside, I'm briefly met by a horrifying thought.
What if Carter left early last night to hook up? What if he isn't in here alone?
“Are...is there anyone else here?”
His face is blank, but his eyes are angry.
“What if there is? You gonna kiss him, too?”
I cringe at that and walk further into the room. The bed is, blessedly, empty.
“We need to talk. Look, no one needs to, uh, know? Right?”
He stares at my, one eyebrow lifted, as though he's daring me to say more.
“About, uh. You know.”
Suddenly, the awkwardness of the scene washes over me. I've stormed into his room just past dawn to, what? Yell at him for being kissed?
“No, I don't know.”
“About what happened at your party.”
He stares at me, passive and aloof.
“On the fire escape.”
I'm frantic now, needing him to just understand.
“The kiss, Jamie.” I hiss at him.
“Kiss? Did we kiss?”
For a moment, I wonder if I imagined it.
“Because I'm pretty sure you have a very clear hockey-players-do-not-kiss-boys rule. And that would be a clear violation of it.”
“To be clear, it's a hockey-players-do-not-talk-about-kissing-boys rule. So really, this is a bigger violation.”
He stares at me, processing that for a moment.
“So you're gay. Or bi?”
A look of confusion crosses his face, as though he's trying to do a hard math problem.
“It doesn't matter.”
“It doesn't matter? Are you fucking with me right now?”
Anger wars with surprise on his face. This is the face I've always imagined when my team found out – this combination of is it possible and how could you?
“Look, you're clearly not interested in what I was offering. You don't have to get like this about it.”
“Ethan, I have never been so hard up for an orgasm that I'd fuck a self-loathing closet case for it.”
I try not to show how hard that hits me, try to hold his eye with a straight face.
“All I'm asking is that you respect my privacy and not talk about it with...anyone.”
“About how the captain of the Minnesota Huskies, future hall-of-famer Ethan Tremblay, is queer?”
I feel rage boil up inside me, and underneath it fear.
“Are you telling me I need to call my agent? Tell him what to expect?”
My breath comes faster and I feel my heart start to speed up in my chest. I start playing out the conversations in my head, with Jack, with my dad, with the press...
“I'm not gonna talk. I can't believe you think I would.”
The relief is instantaneous, like breathing again after being submerged too long.
“But you need to get out of my room and leave me the fuck alone.”
“Consider it done.”
Grateful for the reprieve, I turn and leave, using the side exit to avoid the front desk. On the way to my car, my phone starts ringing. I reach to silence it, but I see it's my dad.
Shit. Avoiding this phone call will only make it worse.