I hung back. “You sure you’re good? What was that guy’s problem, anyway?”

  “Just a drunk homophobe.” Christian shook his head, turning his attention to signing his credit card receipt. I pretended not to notice the slight tremor in his hand.

  God, it was so hard not to put a reassuring arm around him. “What a dick.”

  “I know, right?” He pushed the receipt toward the bartender, and as he slid his copy into his wallet, he added, “I’m okay, though.” With a smile, he nodded toward our teammates. “They’re all like the big brothers I never had. Well, except most of them are younger than me, but still.”

  I smiled, too. “Yeah, they definitely don’t let you take shit.”

  “There’s a reason why I haven’t left this team.” He pocketed his wallet. “My dad can eat a dick, but I’m sticking with these guys.”

  “I don’t blame you at all.”

  We headed out of the bar with our teammates sticking close.

  I was admittedly rattled myself from watching that whole exchange go down. As much as I was willing to drop gloves on the ice, I wasn’t interested in fighting outside of hockey. I didn’t want to catch a charge, and I didn’t think I could hold my own against a guy that size anyway. But if someone was going to harass or threaten Christian, I’d have been more than happy to throw down.

  Fortunately, Condit had noticed the situation before I had, and we’d collectively scared the man off without anyone needing to go hands on.

  On the way up to our floor, it occurred to me that I wasn’t the only one gambling with my place on this team. Christian had an amazing rapport with all of them, and they were clearly protective of him. He really was the whole team’s little brother, age notwithstanding.

  If we got caught, Christian would get fired as surely as I’d be sent down to languish in the minors.

  I wanted to believe what we had was worth what we were risking. I wanted to believe we could find a way to make this work.

  But how would all the men in this elevator feel if they knew Christian and I were together?

  And what would it even matter if we were both cut loose from the Rainiers?

  Yeah, there was a lot on the line. Way too much to be risking for a man.

  Every time I looked at him, though, my resolve intensified.

  Christian, I firmly believed, was worth everything I was risking.

  Chapter 22

  Christian

  I was so exhausted I was on the brink of hallucinating, but if I didn’t get naked with Theo soon, I was going to lose my goddamned mind.

  I still had to wait, though. Tonight was game two of a back-to-back, and we were leaving for the airport right after the game to head for Calgary. Before that, there’d been some issues with a visiting team’s gear; I had no idea how, but one of their travel cases just… hadn’t made it onto the plane. My crew and I—and every crew I’d ever worked with—had eleventy billion checks and balances in place to make sure we didn’t leave so much as a helmet strap behind, but somehow, one of their cases was still in Buffalo’s arena.

  So, after we’d picked up the crew and their gear at the airport, we’d all been scrambling to get them everything they needed for the game. That was the thing about equipment managers—we all looked out for each other. We met visiting teams at the airport, helped them load and unload their gear, and helped them get situated in the arena. If something was missing or damaged, we’d help them out. Whenever we were in another arena, the host team’s equipment managers did the same for us. There was no competition or backstabbing between any of us; it was our job to make sure both teams had everything they needed to play a proper game.

  Sometimes that meant for an incredibly long night. I had planned to meet up with Theo after we got the equipment managers settled into the arena, but once I’d realized something was missing, I’d texted him to cancel. Good thing, too—between their delayed flight and the missing case, I didn’t leave the arena until almost four.

  That game came and went uneventfully, and then the next crew came in, and after a shorter but still late night, I was running on a handful of hours of sleep. Still, I’d been here in time to set up for the morning skate, and thanks to a few gallons of coffee, I was still on my feet.

  When I got home tonight, all I was going to want to do was faceplant in my pillow and pass out for a few short hours. I was so tired I could barely stand, goddammit.

  But that didn’t stop me from wishing I could have a moment alone with the man wearing number sixty-one.

  For the last few days, Theo and I had barely had time to look at each other, never mind touch, and I was losing it.

  Now we had a lull in between the morning skate and warmups. My crew and I had finished everything we needed to finish. Steel was sharpened. Sticks were taped. Jerseys were hung. Skates were drying. One of Rusanov’s socks had needed patching and Condit’s jersey had a tear in the sleeve from last night. I’d fixed the tear enough to finish the game, and then I’d reinforced it today.

  Everything was done, and we had about two hours before warmups. Most of the players were in the building. They’d had a team meeting after the morning skate, and now they were trickling in to start their pregame routines. A few of them were playing two-on-two soccer in the hallway as they always did. Rusanov and Grekov were taking their usual walks around the upper, lower, and ice levels.

  Theo also took walks before warmups, but he always went alone. He’d put in his AirPods, disappear into his own thoughts, and make a few laps around the ice level before he did a light workout.

  I was restless when he came in to put on his workout gear before his walk. I desperately wanted to go sleep for a bit—Marty had already stepped out to take a nap in his car—but I knew myself. I couldn’t relax. No matter how exhausted I was, I was too wound up, and that had everything to do with Theo.

  I missed him. I wanted him. Even if I was too exhausted to get it up, I just wanted to touch him, for God’s sake.

  When Theo left for his walk, my heart started pounding.

  Should I?

  Absolutely not, but is that going to stop me?

  Also absolutely not.

  He always went counterclockwise, so I went the other way, running through my mental map of the arena to figure out the best place to pull him aside. Someplace that would be empty. Hidden from view.

  As I came around a curve, a familiar alcove caught my attention, and I grinned.

  Oh, yes. This would work just fine.

  I made sure no one was around, then dipped into the alcove and took out my phone. Theo usually listened to music while he was walking, so I was confident he’d have his phone with him.

  Christian: Meet me by the Zambonis.

  My heart went wild as the message sent. Even wilder when “read” appeared beneath the message.

  He didn’t reply.

  I waited, shifting my weight and trying to will my pulse to come back down. We wouldn’t be able to do much—assuming he actually took me up on this—but I didn’t care. I just wanted a moment alone with him. That would tide me over until we got through this game and the next road trip. Even a stolen kiss would be enough to keep me sane until—

  Footsteps approached out in the main thoroughfare, and I closed my eyes, silently begging for them to turn into this alcove.

  Please be Theo, please be Theo, please be Theo.

  They turned.

  I opened my eyes.

  And oh, God, yeah, it was him.

  He didn’t say a word, though. He walked right up, pushed me against the Zamboni, and kissed me deep and hard. It was like the first time we were in here, but also different. There was no hesitation this time. No uncertainty. His kiss was anything but tentative, his hands sure as they slid all over my body.

  My knees shook under me, but Theo and the Zamboni kept me upright. I wrapped my arms around his neck and indulged in the kiss I’d been craving for the past few days.

  It occurred to me then that this might not actually help me stay sane. His thickening hard-on rubbed mine through our workout pants, and it was going to be how long before he could fuck me again? Damn it!

  Eh. I could hate myself for this later. For right now, I surrendered completely, loving the way his body felt against mine and how he explored my mouth like it was the first time all over again.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” he murmured against my lips.

  “Fuck that.” I slid a hand up into his hair. “We can’t go out like a normal couple. We can at least sneak off and make out between the Zambonis.”

  Theo laughed, and then he reclaimed my mouth. I hummed into his kiss, melting all over again between him and the Zamboni. God, he was such a good kisser. So good in bed, too. And just…

  So good.

  I liked being close to him. Even when we were hanging out in a bar with his teammates, carefully keeping some space between us so no one caught on, I liked it. Catching his eye and seeing that smile—whether it was shy or devilish or somewhere in between—could have my heart fluttering for hours.

  In over my head? Abso-fucking-lutely.

  Theo broke the kiss again, breathing hard as he met my gaze. “You know, we could actually go out like a normal couple.”

  I stared at him. “We—How?”

  “Meet somewhere. A movie.” He slid his hands up my sides. “We don’t go in or out together, but we have, what? Two, three hours to watch a movie?”

  I thought about it. Movies had never been my ideal dates because… I mean, what was the point of going on a date and not talking for a couple of hours? But sneaking around behind closed doors had left me a little stir crazy, and the thought of sitting in a movie theater with Theo—in the dark but in public—had some serious appeal.

  Who was I kidding? Just being with him under any circumstances had a ton of appeal.

  “A movie could be fun.” I lifted my chin for another kiss. “Maybe when we get back in town after the road trip?”

  Theo’s lips curved against mine. “Sounds perfect.”

  Yeah, it did.

  And I couldn’t fucking wait.

  Chapter 23

  Theo

  “I have a question.” Grekov peered at me across the small table in the café where we’d stopped for lunch.

  “Okay, sure.” I dragged a fry through some ketchup. “What’s on your mind?”

  He stared at his plate for a moment, and I studied him waiting for him to ask. He seemed vaguely uncomfortable, which had me worried.

  All morning, he’d been fine. We’d had practice, and then he and I had gone for a light run around Green Lake. Now we were chilling and having a late lunch. He’d been joking and talking hockey, but now he was suddenly… off.

  After a moment, he finally spoke. “So, Jack…” Grekov jabbed his straw at the ice in his Coke. “He is not… He doesn’t like gay men.”

  I scowled. “No, he does not.” Rolling my eyes, I added, “So of course he has a gay son.”

  Grekov raised an eyebrow. “He’s a dick to his son about it?”

  “Yep. He’s a dick to all of us, but especially to his own son.” I took a drink, not that it did much to rinse the bitterness out of my mouth. “Christian deserves so much better.”

  Grekov eyed me, and my stomach knotted. Shit. Had I tipped my hand too far? Let it show that I gave more of a damn about Christian than I should?

  Then he lowered his gaze to his barely touched lunch. “I was worried, coming to Seattle. The rumors…” He thumbed the edge of the table and gnawed his lip. “Doesn’t seem safe to come out here.”

  I studied him. Then the piece clicked, and I sat up straighter. “No, it is. The guys—everyone is great about it.” I half-shrugged. “No one in a Rainiers sweater has ever given me grief about it, and they’ve known since day one that I’m gay.”

  His brow pinched. “But the GM…”

  “Yeah. I know.” I sighed. “It’s… I don’t want to tell anyone to stay in the closet. But I get why someone wouldn’t want to be out.” I studied him, then cautiously asked, “Are you…?”

  The way he dropped his gaze and blushed, squirming uncomfortably in his seat, screamed yes.

  “Hey.” I gave his forearm a quick squeeze before withdrawing my hand. “I won’t say a word to anyone. Promise.”

  He looked at me through his lashes, blue eyes full of fear that I wasn’t used to seeing in a ballsy defenseman like him. “You’ll tell no one?”

  “No one. It’s not my secret to tell.” I paused. “And if you want to know where all the good clubs are within a hundred miles of here…”

  His blush deepened, but he laughed, shaking his head. “No, no. I don’t think—I don’t like clubs.”

  “Eh, I don’t blame you.” I reached for my drink. “They fucking suck. The apps, too.”

  Grekov laughed with a little more feeling. “I don’t need the apps. Or the clubs. I would just…” He half-shrugged. “I’m not ready to come out. It… I can’t. Not yet. But I want to be able to when I’m ready, you know?”

  I nodded. “Oh, yeah. I totally get it. And trust me, man—the team will have your back. I’m not the first queer guy on the team. And like, you’ve seen them go to bat for Christian.”

  “True.” He sipped his drink. “I was… That was a surprise, you know?”

  “The longer you’re around these guys, the less surprising it’ll be. Trust me.” I picked up another fry. “But don’t feel like you have to come out, either. If you’re not comfortable with Jack knowing, or you’re just not ready to be out…” I half-shrugged. “It’s your prerogative, you know? It’s all good.”

  He studied me, then managed a faint smile. “I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

  After we’d finished lunch, we left and went back to our cars. Grekov seemed to be in a better headspace now, so that was a relief. I’d had my suspicions that he was queer, mostly because he was so secretive about his personal life, and I was glad he’d felt safe enough to tell me. Whether he’d come out to the team or not was up to him, but at least he knew he wasn’t alone.

  Man, that had to be rough, too. The language barrier was already a struggle for him. Then on top of that, he was gay and not sure about coming out. Thank God he hadn’t ended up on a team with no Russian players (though most teams had at least one, if not more) and he’d landed someplace with openly queer players and staff members.

  Shame there wasn’t much any of us could do about our homophobic GM. Ugh.

  But at least for today, Grekov seemed to be feeling better about things as we got into our respective cars. He was going out to Snohomish to play golf with Rusanov this afternoon, which would be good for him too.

  As for me, I drove away from Green Lake, but I didn’t head home. I didn’t go to Christian’s condo, either.

  Instead, I followed my GPS’s instructions to a movie theater up on Capitol Hill. I’d bought a ticket online earlier today, which I showed to the usher on my phone, and then I headed inside.

  This was one of those small indie theaters with about fifty seats in each auditorium where obscure, usually foreign films played. I wasn’t even sure what this movie was about. It was in French, that much I knew, and it had a run time of like three hours, but beyond that… nada.

  I didn’t care either, because I hadn’t come here to pay much attention to what was on the screen.

  The auditorium was mostly empty. A few college kids occupied the middle rows, munching on popcorn as their phones bathed their faces in bright light.

  And there in the center seat of the back row was the reason I’d come here in the first place.

  “Hey.” Christian grinned up at me as I took the seat beside him. “How was your run?”

  “Not bad.” I slung my arm around his shoulders. The armrest was up, so he leaned against me without anything jabbing into either of our ribs. Trailing my fingers up and down his arm, I said, “There were a lot of people out, though. Jesus H.”

  He chuckled, sliding a hand over my thigh. “It’s Saturday, baby. People come out on Saturdays.”

  I tsked. “But then the jogging path is crowded. Rude.”

  Christian laughed and lifted his chin for a light kiss. “So sorry, sweetheart. I’m sure if you wait until it’s nasty and raining, you’ll have the path all to yourselves.”

  “But then I’ll get cold and wet.”

  “But it won’t be crowded.”

  I grunted unhappily.

  He nudged me with his elbow and leaned against me.

  I kissed the top of his head. “What did you do this morning?”

  He groaned. “Paperwork. So much paperwork.”

  “Really? For what?”

  “Ordering parts. Inventorying parts. Getting bids from a new supplier on some parts and tools that another manufacturer is discontinuing.” He sighed theatrically. “Such bullshit.”

  Laughing, I pressed my lips to the top of his head again. “So much hard work. I don’t know how you manage it.”

  “Keep it up and I’ll start delegating it to the players.”

  “Pretty sure there’s a rookie and a couple of PHL guys who are lower in the hierarchy than me.”

  “Ooh, this isn’t about seniority, darling.” He patted my thigh. “It’s about who I decide is the right person for the job.”

  “I don’t think that’s allowed under the CBA.”

  “Ugh. You assholes and your union.”

  I cackled triumphantly, which earned me an elbow to the ribs. “Oof. Fuck you.”

  He looked up at me and grinned. “Promise?”

  “Of course.” I drew him in and kissed him. God, I could not get enough of kissing him. Even when it was neither the time nor the place for sex, I loved the way he kissed. Yeah, it turned me on, but that could wait until later. Right now, in this moment, his soft, insistent lips against mine were more than enough.

  Some music started, and when I opened my eyes, I realized the auditorium had gone dark. On the screen, the previews began.

  “Oh, I guess it’s starting.” Christian shifted around again, leaning against me with my arm still around his shoulders. “Do you need me to read the subtitles out loud?”