“Uh. Hey.”

  Then, to my surprise, he pulled me into a hug. “You’re the last person I expected to see here today. But I’m really glad you came.”

  My throat tightened, and I had to swallow past a whole lot of emotions that really didn’t need to make themselves visible right now. “Thanks. And thanks for the kick in the ass.” I let him go and met his gaze. “Everything you said at Kramer’s wedding—you were right.”

  “Thanks for listening. It’s never easy to course-correct like that.” He gestured at Hunter. “Looks like it worked out for you too.”

  I couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah. It did.”

  “Anyway.” He took a step back and motioned toward the changing room. “I just wanted to say that. I’ll let you…”

  “Right. Thanks. And thank you again.”

  He just smiled, and I continued into the changing room, feeling about fifty pounds lighter than when I’d walked into the building.

  If I’d just needed to put on my jersey, I’d have done it out here, and I was hardly shy about getting dressed in front of my teammates. There were, however, other people here, and I wasn’t just changing into my jersey, so this would do.

  The jersey was loose because I wasn’t wearing pads, but it was comfortable. After I’d changed, I plucked a piece of lint off the black sleeve, then took a deep breath and faced the mirror.

  Whoa.

  I was wearing it. My rainbow practice jersey. I couldn’t see my name, since it was across the shoulders, but the Breakers logo on my chest was in bright rainbow colors. On my sleeves, my number was as well.

  I’m really doing this.

  I had stacks of these in boxes in my house, and there’d been so many times I’d wanted to put one on, but I just couldn’t. There was something so real and final about wearing a Breakers jersey with my name and number in rainbow lettering. Something about the rainbow stripes around the cuffs and collar. A lot of my straight teammates wore theirs to practice and events, and they were active in LGBT events and charities, but I’d never been able to handle calling myself an ally. During some periods, I’d been disgusted by the whole thing. During others—the worst times—I’d hidden behind that disgust, convinced it would literally break me to pretend to be a straight ally when I wanted so badly to be an out gay man.

  I swallowed hard as I stared at my reflection. I wasn’t an ally. I wasn’t disgusted. I was coming out, and this jersey felt good on my shoulders. Heavy and real.

  The changing room door opened—probably the photographer’s assistant coming to get me so they could start—and I quickly cleared my throat as I tugged at the jersey.

  But then I looked in the mirror and saw who’d come in.

  Matt.

  I watched him. He watched me. The room was completely silent, and I had no idea what was going through his mind or what I should say.

  Heart thundering and stomach flipping, I turned around to face him.

  Matt looked me up and down, gaze pausing on the rainbow Breakers emblem on my chest.

  Then his eyes flicked up to meet mine.

  I swallowed hard, trying to find the breath and the words. There was so, so fucking much I needed to say to him, and a lot of it was years overdue, but I didn’t even know where to start.

  He came a little closer, oblivious to how hard my heart was beating or how much I had to fight the urge to step back. Our altercations had gotten physical a few times, and my cheekbone was still healing from that day with my dad. If Matt decided to take a shot at me right now… I mean, that wasn’t his style most of the time, but if he made an exception right now, I didn’t think I could blame the guy.

  A smile tugged at his lips, and damn if his eyes weren’t welling up a bit.

  Aw, fuck. Now I had a lump in my throat—how the hell was I supposed to talk when just looking at him had me choking up like this?

  He took another step closer, and oh my God, I wasn’t ready when he hugged me.

  Squeezing my eyes shut, trying my damnedest not to lose it, I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. I didn’t deserve this. I had a hell of a lot to apologize for and to make up for, but before I’d gotten out a single word… this. There was so much forgiveness in his embrace that I hadn’t even started earning, and some of the crushing weight of regret tumbled off my shoulders.

  I needed to say so many things—I owed him that much—but the words that finally made it past the lump in my throat were just, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” He stroked my hair, a gesture I remembered from that night way back when. One that almost broke me completely right now. “I was afraid you’d never find your way out.”

  I drew back, swiping at my eyes. “I might not have if it wasn’t for everything you said a few months ago. It…” I exhaled hard. “Let’s just say you gave me a lot to think about.”

  “I’m just glad you finally came around.” He squeezed my shoulder. “It had to be miserable.”

  “It was. But it, um…” Heat rushed into my cheeks as a sick feeling coiled in my stomach. “It was no excuse for being such an asshole all this time. Especially to you. I mean it—I’m sorry.”

  His smile almost killed what remained of my composure. “I know you are.”

  “I mean it. I’m—”

  “Scott.” He shook his head. “We’ll get there. We can talk it out. Right now, I’m just glad you’re finally accepting yourself.”

  “Yeah. Me too. I do want to talk it out, though.”

  “We will. Don’t worry. But man, I’m proud of you. I don’t know what you’ve been going through the last few months since we had that talk, but you got here today. That’s amazing.”

  “I, um…” I felt myself blushing. “I did have a little help.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I gestured at the door. “I’ll introduce you.”

  “You’ve got a boyfriend?” He sounded thrilled. Hell, excited. “Seriously?”

  I laughed. “Is it really that hard to believe I could find someone who’d date me?”

  “Pfft. No.” Matt rolled his eyes. “I’m just amazed someone finally got through all those walls you put up.”

  “To be fair, you kinda loosened the foundations. So, uh… Thanks for the assist.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He squeezed my arm. “I’m happy for you, Scott. I really, really am.”

  “Thanks. And I… Listen.” I held his gaze, and my voice wasn’t steady at all as I said, “I won’t lie. What happened between us back then? Before I lost my shit? I’ve been… To be honest, I’ve been chasing that feeling ever since. Not just the physical, but…” I couldn’t finish. There was just no way. I did, however, clear my throat and manage, “I’m sorry. We could have been something. I’d never take you away from Andre, and I’ve got something with Hunter that I wouldn’t trade for the world, but I’m still sorry I couldn’t love you back then like I should have.”

  Matt stared at me, eyes full of disbelief. Then he pulled me in close and hugged me again. “Don’t keep beating yourself up, all right? I’m just glad you made it out the other side.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” I closed my eyes as I hugged him back. I was still going to make up for the past as best I could. We’d probably need to sit down a few times and hash some stuff out. Our long, ugly past wasn’t going to magically disappear, and I knew that. Even after we talked it all out, there was no telling if we could ever salvage the close friendship we’d had back in college, or if this would be one of those things where we buried the hatchet and walked away separately.

  But just realizing that his forgiveness wasn’t a lost cause—that Matt had basically been waiting outside my closet with open arms—was one of the most liberating moments of my life.

  He let me go and gestured toward the changing room door. “So. You sure you’re ready to do this?”

  “No. But I’m doing it.”

  Matt studied me, surprise written all over his creased forehead and wide eyes. Slowly, though, he nodded, and he gave my shoulder another firm squeeze. “Good. I’m glad.” He slung his arm around me and herded me toward the door. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter 30

  Hunter

  The photo shoot was surprisingly entertaining. The photographer had them all sitting, standing, or leaning against gray boxes like one of those ensemble cast photos in Vogue or something, and she wanted serious expressions. That would’ve been fine if she hadn’t been dealing with five hockey players who kept making smartass comments—sometimes loudly, sometimes under their breath—that had them all losing their composure.

  It wasn’t just them, either. I was sitting with their husbands and boyfriends, and they were not helping. Cole wolf-whistled at them, which had everyone giggling for a good minute. Diego called out something in Spanish, which caused Warner and Matt—who apparently also understood what he’d said—to snort-laugh.

  At one point, the photographer had them all lying down on some white plastic that I think was supposed to look like ice. There was a blue circle painted on it, and they lay on it with their heads in the circle while the photographer aimed her camera at them from directly above. I couldn’t hear what any of them were saying, only that there was a lot of laughing and cackling going on.

  Then they were all upright again, leaning on (or in Dane’s case, sitting cross-legged in) a hockey goal.

  Naturally, the shenanigans continued. I kind of thought the photographer would get annoyed, but she and her assistant actually snapped a few shots during the laughing fits. Oh, I so hoped some of those made it into the article. Especially the ones of Scott. Sitting up there and laughing with his teammates in a Pride jersey, he was more at ease than I’d seen him the whole time I’d known him. His smile was so free and bright, like he was genuinely happy and chill.

  By the time the group shots were finished, I thought the photographer was going to excuse herself for a drink, but no, apparently things were just getting started. While her assistants handled getting some additional individual shots of each player, the main photographer had Warner, Diego, and their kids take center stage. They were ridiculously cute, too. Both Anne-Marie and Miguel were absolute hams for the camera, which made their dads’ smiles effortless and natural. I was pretty sure everyone in the room had turned to complete goo by the time that session was over.

  Then the photographer called up Ethan and Luca. There were some close-ups of their rings, and she must have filled an entire SD card of the two of them being cute together. Cole, Dane, and Matt heckled them relentlessly, so most of the photos were of the pair laughing. The photographer didn’t seem to mind—the photos were probably cute as all hell.

  As Matt and Andre took centerstage while Scott was posing for his individual shots, I got a little flutter in my chest as I drank in the whole scene. There were so many articles out there about athletes who had to struggle with coming out, and there’d probably be some of that in this one too, but if the photos were anything to go by, this was going to be an article about pure joy. About pro athletes being themselves and finding love and just being happy and in love.

  The fact that Scott was here kind of made me get choked up. He’d gone from being afraid of who he was to embracing it, and now he was coming out with the love and support of his teammates. The article wouldn’t be just about him being gay—he’d be part of the group. After all his fear of being alone and hated, he belonged.

  So, yeah, I’d be ordering like fifty copies of this magazine.

  “Hunter?” a woman’s voice said. I turned, and the photographer was gesturing for me to come to the main set. Where Scott was getting situated on a black stool. “We’re ready for you.”

  “Ready for—” I blinked. “Me?”

  She glanced back and forth between us. “Uh…”

  “Scott?”

  He looked at me. “Oh, hey. There you are.”

  I cautiously came closer. “You, um… You want me to…”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” His smile fell. “Unless you don’t?”

  “No, no, I do. But I mean… We’ve only been…” I swallowed as I stepped onto the stage. “Are you sure? We haven’t been seeing each other very long.”

  Scott studied me. Then he smiled and held out his hand.

  That lump in my throat was back in full force as I let him draw me in close.

  Wrapping his arms around me from behind, he pressed a kiss to my cheek, then whispered so softly only I could hear him, “I wouldn’t want anyone else for this.”

  Oh my God. My heart melted. Leaning back against him, I twisted as much as my irritable muscles allowed, and he met me halfway and pressed his lips to mine.

  The flash was visible even with my eyes closed. Without breaking the kiss, Scott and I both grinned, and the camera went off again.

  “Aww,” one of the guys called out. “I never thought I’d see Deek being so cute!”

  Then everyone laughed, and when I looked up, I realized Scott had—while still kissing me—flipped off his teammates.

  Our session continued in that vein. We were affectionate and laughed a lot as his teammates kept up the good-natured ribbing, and I swear I’d never seen Scott smiling so freely. He’d been almost as nervous on the way here as he’d been on the way to face off with his parents, but his teammates had welcomed him with open arms. The jokes were probably the most moving thing for me; he’d told me that constant trash-talking was a thing with hockey players, and the fact that they were continuing it now—no walking on eggshells, no pointed barbs—underscored that nothing had changed for them. They accepted him. They accepted me. It probably didn’t make up for him losing his family, but I had to imagine it took out some of the sting.

  When the photographer was finished with us, we got out of the way so Cole and Dane could take our place.

  As we stood off to the side, I said, “Well, sounds like they’re definitely including you in the article.”

  Scott broke into a smile. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure what the writer would think, but the photographer called him and he’s all excited.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I guess his editor will be all over adding a coming-out story.”

  “Oh, cool.”

  “Yeah. It is.” He paused. “I was a little worried this might be kind of exploitative, but…” He shook his head.

  “You’re not anymore?”

  Scott pursed his lips, watching Cole and Dane for a few seconds before he shrugged. “Maybe it is? But I’m getting something out of it too. I’ve been in the closet forever, and I hated myself for it.” He paused. “Some kid might read it and see himself, you know? The guy who hates what he is so much that he hates anyone else for being the same? It could help him. God knows it would’ve done me some good to read a story like mine a few years ago.”

  “I bet. I think this whole thing is great. Especially for all the people who think gay guys shouldn’t be in pro sports.”

  “I’m definitely glad I’m doing it, then. Because I used to be one of those guys.”

  “You changed. So will people who read this article.”

  We exchanged smiles but didn’t say anything.

  Right then, Matt came up to us, and he offered me a hand. As I shook it, he gestured at Scott. “Watch out for this one, all right? He’s trouble.”

  Scott rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

  “Oh, I know.” I flashed a toothy grin. “Why do you think I’m dating him?”

  Matt’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh God. You two are a perfect match, aren’t you?”

  Scott wrapped his arm around my waist. “I like to think so, yeah.”

  Matt’s expression warmed to a genuine smile, and he gave Scott’s arm a squeeze. “I’m happy for you. I mean it. You were the second to last person I expected to see here today, and I’m really glad you came.”

  “Second to last?” Scott asked.

  “Well, yeah.” Matt grinned. “The only thing more unexpected than Scott Deacon showing up at something like this is Scott Deacon’s boyfriend.”

  Scott laughed. “Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It is.”

  Then Scott released me, and he hugged Matt tight. “Thanks, man. It means a lot that you guys…”

  Matt patted his back and said something I didn’t hear.

  When Scott and I were alone again, he pushed out a ragged breath, and I seriously thought he was going to get emotional.

  I touched his arm. “You good?”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “You remember the friend who I hooked up with in college, and then ditched?”

  I blinked. “That’s him?”

  Scott nodded. “I’ve been dreading apologizing to him, and we probably still need to hash some shit out, but…” He gazed in the direction Matt had gone. “It went a lot better than I thought.”

  “I can see that.” I laced our fingers together. “I told you—things will be okay.”

  He met my gaze, and he smiled. “Yeah. It’s starting to feel like that.”

  I lifted my chin for a soft kiss.

  We watched while Cole and Dane continued through their photos, with Luca, Ethan, and Matt heckling them as relentlessly as they had us.

  As we stood there, Warner came up. “Hey, we’re going to go grab a late lunch after this. You guys want to come?”

  Scott looked at him as if he hadn’t heard him right. “Us?”

  “Well, yeah.” Warner smiled. “Diego’s running the kids to my mom’s house, and then he’s going to get us a table.” He held up his phone. “He just needs us to let him know if he should get a table for eight or ten.”

  “I…” Scott shook himself, then turned to me. “You want to?”

  I shrugged. “Sure. Yeah. My day’s open.”

  “Great.” Warner gestured with his phone. “I’ll let Diego know.” Then he walked away, texting as he did.

  “Holy shit.” Scott ran his hand through his hair. “I alienated these guys for all these years, and they’re…”

  “They’re good guys. And so are you.”

  “I got there eventually,” he said with a laugh. “And you don’t mind hanging out with all of us? How was hanging out with the other boyfriends and husbands, anyway?”