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“You’re rich now. Just pay someone to put it together for you,” Mar had told him earlier when they’d spoken on the phone.
“Um, fuck that. I’m 25 years old, healthy, and strong. I can put a bed frame together.”
It took him about three minutes and seventeen seconds of attempting to read the poorly written directions to realize he was in way over his head.
She’d called to discuss his upcoming release date and some advertising campaign options. They’d gone the indie publishing route, having chosen to put the book on Kindle Unlimited to see how it would be received. Ryan was fine with it, considering it was never about the money for him; he just wanted to tell his story and hopefully have it help someone.
There was a lot of buzz about it on the internet, too. Ryan hadn’t been the first NHL player to come out as gay, but he was one of very few. And he knew there were more, way more, but a lot of them didn’t feel comfortable coming out yet.
Hockey culture was a very real thing.
And truth be told, he’d never really come out, him or Hayes. He understood what a critical moment it was for a lot of people, but he’d chosen to approach things his way. If someone would ask if he had a girlfriend, he would tell them about his boyfriend, Tyler Hayes…well, back when he was his boyfriend. Hayes and Ryan had spent a ton of time discussing how to handle this and both were in agreement.
“We love who we fuckin’ love, Rook. I’m not hidin’ it. I’m proud to be your man. And if someone’s got a problem with that? Fuck ‘em. They can suck my fuckin’ dick.”
Tyler Hayes, the man who exclusively used Pride Tape on his sticks.
Because fuck ‘em.
Tyler Hayes, the man who pulled absolutely no punches.
God, did he miss that cocky little shithead.
As Ryan made his way back into the locker room for a post-practice shower, he started to feel a bit of anxiety coming on. It’d begun to manifest differently recently; the panic attacks had almost completely stopped, but he’d begun to experience chest pains and heart fluttering instead. He couldn’t vape when he was playing; he was already slow enough. Dr. Gephart had gone over some deep breathing and meditation exercises that he could do and for the most part, they’d seemed to work.
He stood at his stall after removing almost all his gear, eyes closed, with one hand on his stomach and the other on his chest. Inhaling a deep breath, he felt the hand on his stomach move as his diaphragm expanded, then exhaled slowly through pursed lips. Most of the guys knew about his anxiety and would leave him alone when they caught him going through one of his exercises.
There was one, though, who always seemed to be watching.
As Ryan exhaled his tenth breath, he turned to find Koski right there next to him, staring intently. “You are OK?” he asked softly.
Ryan nodded. “I’m OK.”
“Good. So,” he said, looking around to make sure they were alone, then leaning in close. Only the defense was left, since they’d had an extended practice, and all of the other guys were already showering. “If I help you put together this bed frame, do I get to test it out? I mean, durability is important to me.”
He slipped his fingers into Ryan’s hip pads and pulled him toward him. As he leaned in for a kiss, Ryan smiled uncomfortably and turned his head to the side, causing Koski to let go. “What I do wrong?”
“It’s…Joss. Nothing. You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just…didn’t we agree to stop this?”
“Did we?” Koski asked shyly, running a hand across Ryan’s chest. “I don’t remember.”
“Hey, I can’t…this? I don’t think I can…” Ryan paused, taking note of the confusion that washed over his teammate’s face. He closed his eyes. “I’m starting to like you. A lot. OK?”
“I fail to see problem with this,” he told Ryan. “I like you a lot, too.”
“But I’m in love with Tyler. He has…my entire heart.”
Koski shrugged. “Is not your heart I’m after, Baylor.”
OK. Gut punch.
“We have fun together, no?” Koski asked.
“We do.”
“Then why stop?”
“Because…”
