“Mmhmm. I was really confused for a long time because everyone had crushes on either boys or girls, and I had them on everyone.” I laughed. “I even thought I didn’t know what a crush really was, since it should’ve been for one or the other. But then an upperclassman I knew came out as bi, and I was like, ‘oh, hey, that’s a thing?’ And I never looked back.”

  “How did your family react?”

  “They were kind of surprised.” I chuckled at the memory. “They’d been expecting me to come out as gay since I was like eight, so they were shocked that I was into girls too.”

  Scott straightened. “They were?”

  “Yep. Even when they were surprised as hell that Rachel and I got married, I think it was less that we were so young and more that I was marrying a woman.”

  “Wow. So they accepted it? Your sexuality?”

  “Oh yeah. They’d already made peace with me being gay, and they just had to get their heads around bisexuality.” I shrugged. “It was no big deal to them. Plus I have a gay uncle who’s married to a trans guy, and my cousin is non-binary, so queerness isn’t really anything new to my family.”

  Scott shook his head. “That would blow my family’s minds.”

  I watched him, wondering how to proceed. Finally, I went with, “Is anyone else in your family gay?”

  “Not that I know of.” Scott paused. “Though there is someone who I think might be. One of my younger cousins. And now that I think about it, I’m worried about him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well…” He stared at something, though his eyes didn’t seem focused. “So, Danny. He’s fifteen. And he always seems really uncomfortable at family things. For the longest time, I just thought he was shy and liked to listen while other people talked, but… I don’t know. Especially since he usually vacates as soon as someone starts in on the homophobic crap. If he can, anyway.”

  Those dots weren’t difficult to connect. “So you think he might be gay?”

  “Maybe?” Scott scrubbed his hand over his face. “I’ve tried to talk to him. But what am I supposed to say? Tell him I think he’s gay and he can come out to me?”

  “That’ll probably put him on the defensive.”

  “What should I do, then? He’ll be at the wedding this weekend, and I…” Scott deflated. “I don’t want him thinking he’s alone like I was all those years, you know?”

  I thought about it. “Given the way he was raised, maybe all he needs to hear is that you don’t buy into the family’s crap, and that you’re someone who’s safe to talk to.” I put up a hand. “Not come out to. Talk to.” Resting my hand on his arm again, I said, “Don’t frame it like you’re making assumptions about him—just let him know that the door is open if he needs it.”

  “You think so?”

  “I can’t imagine how else you can talk to him about it without putting him on the defensive. You’re not telling him you think he’s gay—you’re telling him you’re safe. What he chooses to do with that is his choice. That way he has control instead of feeling like he’s in a position where he has to either deny his sexuality or admit it to someone who might out him to the family.”

  “Oh.” Scott’s eyes lost focus. “Damn. That didn’t even occur to me.”

  “Of course it didn’t.” I laced our fingers together. “This is all new territory for you.”

  He nodded slowly. “Seems like it might’ve been easier to stumble through it when I was young and stupid.”

  “On paper, sure. But there’s a reason a huge percentage of homeless kids are queer.”

  He flinched. “Because of parents like mine.”

  “Exactly,” I said sadly. “I knew a couple of people in high school who deliberately waited until they were out of college and had paychecks coming in before they came out. The secrecy was hell for them, but they were protecting themselves.”

  “Smart,” Scott murmured.

  I watched him for a long moment before cautiously proceeding. “Did you know you were gay all these years?”

  “I…” He chewed his lip. “I think I did. I wouldn’t admit it to myself for anything, and I tried to talk myself out of it a million times, but I think, deep down, I knew.”

  “Did you ever have, I don’t know, a connection with someone? Beyond just sex? Like a crush, or…?”

  Scott closed his eyes and swallowed hard, and from the way his features tightened, the answer was a resounding yes. I was tempted to pull back the question; it clearly hurt to think about it, and I didn’t want to drag him over the coals of his own regret.

  Before I could withdraw the question, though, he said, “Back in college, I had a friend. A teammate I was really close to. And I was…” He stared with unfocused eyes at the covers, his expression almost wistful, before he shook his head and whispered, “God, I had it so bad for him.”

  “What happened?”

  He swallowed. “Long story short, one night, we ended up in bed. We’d been circling each other for a while, and we finally just went for it.”

  “Had you been with a guy before?”

  Scott shook his head again. “No. I was deep in denial until I got to college, and he was my first. I found out later…” He winced. “I found out a lot later that I was his first too. Anyway, that night was amazing, but the next morning, I woke up before him, and it just sort of sank in. That I’d slept with a guy. And the thing is, my family…” His features tightened, and he chewed the inside of his cheek.

  “Your family really is hardcore homophobic, aren’t they?” I asked.

  He gave a quiet, bitter laugh. “Oh, yeah. Not just in the sense that they get bitchy if they see a gay couple or a rainbow flag. I mean they constantly harp on it. They can’t talk about hockey without complaining about Pride Nights and out gay players. They can’t talk about politics without getting into LGBT rights.” Scott rolled his hand. “You name it, they can tie it back to their homophobia.”

  “Oh my God.” I stared at him in horror. “And you grew up in that? As a gay kid?”

  Wincing again, he nodded. “Yeah. My cousin is still growing up in it, too.”

  “Wow. What a toxic mess. And that poor kid.” I tilted my head. “So… what happened with the guy? Your teammate?”

  “I freaked out. I told him it was a mistake, that I was just drunk, and that we couldn’t ever talk about this again.” Scott sighed heavily, his broad shoulders sinking under an invisible weight. “And then I left.”

  “How did…” I hesitated. “How did he take it?”

  Now Scott looked really pained, and he stared down at his hands as he played with a crease in the sheet. “I hurt him. I hurt him really bad. In fact, I found out very, very recently that because of me, he completely avoided relationships for a long time. Because of me, he almost missed out on the boyfriend he has now.”

  “Whoa. How long ago was that?”

  He furrowed his brow. “Has to be… twelve, thirteen years ago now? Something like that.”

  “Holy… And he never dated anyone during that time?”

  Scott shook his head. “No. Well, I think he had one boyfriend early on, but that guy was as much of a dick as I was. After that, he didn’t want to get bitten again. So he kept everyone at arm’s length. And I mean, I don’t blame him, you know? I was terrible to him. It was only one night, but we were really close before that. Then I treated him like my biggest mistake, and I—” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat before he softly added, “I locked myself in the closet and lost one of the best friends I’d ever had.”

  “Whoa. I’m so sorry.” I studied him. “You said he told you recently. Are you guys back in touch now or something?”

  Scott laughed dryly. “Yeah, about that. We’ve, um, kind of been stuck together for the last few years.”

  “Stuck to—ooh. You said he was a teammate. Does that mean he’s on your team now?”

  “Yep. We were in college at the time, but after we went pro, we both eventually ended up on the Breakers.”

  “Holy crap, that must be awkward.”

  “Yeah, it hasn’t been the most comfortable arrangement.” Scott sighed, shifting onto his back and gazing up at the ceiling, though he kept one hand absently trailing up and down my arm. “It was for the better, though. We butted heads for years, but then he confronted me not too long ago, and I had kind of a come-to-Jesus moment.”

  “Oh really?” I slid a little closer, resting my hand on his chest. “How so?”

  He moistened his lips. “Mostly he called me out for what I’d done to him, and for being an asshole to him and our other gay teammates. Which I was. And he told me that no one gave a damn if I was gay. That I was only hurting myself and making myself miserable, but I was also adding fuel to the fire for people who hated gay people. I got to thinking about that, and…” He shrugged tightly. “What can I say? He was right.”

  “So is that why you were looking for a change of pace when you met me? For something slower? Because he got your attention, and you were trying to come to terms with things?”

  “Kind of, yeah. I was trying to get a grip on my identity, but I also…” He chewed his lip, gazing up at the ceiling.

  I watched him, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

  After a solid minute, Scott took a deep breath. “If you were to ask anyone else at Emerald City, they would probably tell you I’m an asshole. That I used them like sex toys. Didn’t care if they got off. Things like that.” He swallowed, avoiding my gaze. “And they wouldn’t be lying.”

  The candor startled me. “Oh. Really?”

  Closing his eyes, he nodded. “The thing is, I was punishing myself. I wanted men, and every time I hired someone, I convinced myself I was just going to get it out of my system this one time, and then I wouldn’t do it again. But that didn’t work, and I was always back for more. It was almost like an addiction, I guess. Except what I wanted wasn’t unhealthy or bad—my obsession with it and the self-loathing? That was where it got toxic and ugly.” He paused. “I never hurt any of them or anything—I was always careful of that—but they were… I mean, they were basically a hole to put my dick in before I spent the rest of the night berating myself for being too weak to resist.”

  “Whoa,” I breathed. “That sounds miserable. For you, I mean.”

  “It was. And it probably wasn’t fun for them either.” He turned to me, eyes full of sincerity. “And I’m trying to do better. That’s not who I am anymore.”

  “From what I’ve seen, you seem to be off to a good start in embracing that change.”

  He smiled, if a bit halfheartedly, and he ran the backs of his knuckles along my arm. “I’m trying to straighten things out with people too. The ones I hurt or fucked over. In fact, I happened to still have a way to contact one of the Gentlemen who’d been kind of a regular for me, and I apologized to him. When I did, he told me I needed to change the way I looked at the men I hired.”

  “How so?”

  “Like…” He seemed to think about it before he finally spoke. “You guys aren’t just sex dolls for me to take out my frustration on. You’re not just holes to put my dick in. And the thing is, there was a part of me that always wanted to kiss guys, to turn them on and get them off, the whole works—but I was just so ashamed of even being attracted to men, that I couldn’t get there.”

  “Seems like you’ve been getting there with me.”

  Scott looked in my eyes. “I’ve been trying. I don’t want to be who I was before.”

  “I can see that,” I whispered, stroking his cheek. “And for what it’s worth, I’ve never felt like a sex toy or like you think I’m just a hole to put your dick in.”

  He smiled weakly. “Maybe that means there’s hope for me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

  The smile brightened just a touch, and he lifted his head for a soft kiss. As he settled back on the pillow, he said, “At the end of the day, I missed out on a lot, and I hurt a lot of people along the way. I’m just trying to figure out how to be a gay man who doesn’t hurt people.”

  “Including yourself?”

  He moistened his lips. “Including myself.”

  “Well…” I grinned. “I’m happy to help you get there. Especially the part where you’re figuring out how to be a gay man in the bedroom.” I winked.

  Scott laughed, turning onto his side and sliding a hand over my waist. “So it’s not a terrible imposition?” He inched closer. “Fooling around with me while I get the hang of all this?”

  “Mmm, yeah.” I carded my fingers through his hair as I slid right up against him. “Terrible imposition.”

  “Yeah?” He was grinning even as his lips brushed mine. “Even if I make you come really hard again?”

  “Hmm, I think that could help, actually.”

  He chuckled, and then he claimed a kiss, and we slowly wrapped up in each other. Being a sex worker, naked intimacy wasn’t all that novel for me anymore, but Scott still took my breath away. Maybe because he was so raw and vulnerable, or maybe because he was just so damn good at this, especially since he’d pushed past his aversion to kissing. I didn’t even need the Cialis with him anymore unless I was really hurting (at which point he preferred not to fool around anyway) because he just turned me on so much.

  With a soft moan, Scott wrapped his arms around me, and I shifted on top of him as the kiss deepened. His fingers ran through my hair and his breath stuttered across my cheek. God, he was so sweet and sexy.

  I wanted him to find his confidence and feel secure in his sexuality, and hopefully he’d even be able to come out, at least to the people close to him who he could trust to keep it quiet. I’d do everything I could to help him, and I hoped he got there quickly so he could finally enjoy his life in ways he hadn’t been able to for far too long.

  But it probably would be a slow process—these things usually were—and I could live with that.

  Because this was one client I didn’t want to stop seeing.

  Chapter 19

  Scott

  Today was another easy practice. Thank God, since my knee was acting up. It wasn’t anything serious—just one of those aches and pains I had to live with. I had my brace on and would ice everything later.

  We were still deep in the off season, so practices were optional and light. Some of the younger guys from the farm team had come down today, and Williams and I were helping them through some passing drills. They were good, too, especially Miller. I suspected he wouldn’t be spending much more of his career in the minors.

  “Nice job.” I took off my helmet and brushed some sweat off my forehead. “Looking even better than last time.”

  “Thanks.” The kid grinned and gave Williams a hearty smack on the shoulder. “No one’s gonna know what hit ‘em when the season starts again.”

  Williams laughed. “Damn right.” They shared a gloved fist bump.

  I chuckled. Williams definitely had some serious talent too, but I could see him spending another year or two cutting his teeth on the farm team. He didn’t have quite the precision that Miller did. They both definitely had promising futures in this sport, though, that was for damn sure.

  “All right.” I gestured with my helmet before putting it back on. “Take five, and we’ll do some more of those drills.”

  They took off to get some water, and I leaned over the boards to pick mine up from the bench.

  As I did, Matt came out of the chute and called out, “Hey, Dane?” He gestured over his shoulder. “The PR guy’s probably going to come looking for you.”

  Dane skated up and skidded to a stop. “What about?”

  “PR’s working on setting up a photo shoot and interview for a magazine spread about queer players, and they’ll want the four of us wearing our jerseys from Pride Night. Do you still have one?”

  Dane’s eyes lost focus, and then he nodded. “Yeah, I kept a handful of them after the auction. Did they say which design they want us to wear?”

  The two of them started heading back into the locker room, so I didn’t hear the rest.

  And… a weird feeling of disappointment sank into the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t very long ago I’d have sneered at Matt and probably taken a potshot at Warner or Ethan about the spread. That had always been the easiest way to hide how much I wished the magazine had been interviewing five queer Breakers instead of four.

  I couldn’t even fake it anymore, though. It hurt. Just watching the four of them pose with the Cup and a rainbow flag after we’d won had made me sick with envy.

  Now they would all be posing for a glossy magazine celebrating gay hockey players. Gay teammates.

  Fuck. That stung.

  It wasn’t just the photo shoot that had me off-balance. These days, every time I saw Matt or Warner, I had a pang of guilt. I’d been such a dick to them. Matt more than anyone, but Warner probably wished I’d get traded or—even better—retire, and he was justified.

  It really was just as well Matt, Ethan, and Warner had basically kept Dane out of my line of fire. That was one less teammate I needed to apologize to. And one less who’d ever felt like shit because of me.

  I’d managed to clear the air with Ethan, which helped me sleep a bit better these days. I still couldn’t quite work up the balls to approach Matt. That was going to be a while, because I was a coward, and he had every right to tell me where to stick my apology.

  I had, however, put off talking to Warner long enough.

  Practice was never a good time to grab a private conversation, especially one like this. Sometimes I got lucky, though, and the person I needed to talk to stepped into the locker room to top off a water bottle or fix a piece of gear.

  Today, I wasn’t so lucky. Warner was focused on not letting Grant or Gagnon grab the puck from him; he’d had a lot of turnovers toward the end of the season, so I understood wanting to work out the bugs when the pressure was off.

  After practice, I loitered in the parking garage and waited for him to come out. When he did, he had his duffel bag slung over his shoulder and he was looking at something on his phone.