Page 102 of These Wicked Hearts

He sighs. “Yes and no. Oli and Andre are lucky they’re on the Otters. Our team . . .” He shakes his head with a smile. “No, sorry, their team. I have to get used to that. Their team is one of the more progressive teams in the league. Their fans are amazing and open, but I mean, if they played for another team, it might be different. On my team there’s Knox, he’s bisexual.”

“He’s the one who brought you to my concert, right?” He nods. “How’s that been for him?”

He shrugs, grabbing my other foot and doing the same, slipping off my shoe and lacing up my skate. “It seems like for the most part everyone on the team is fine with it.”

“And what about you? Do you want to come out?”

“I don’t really want to. Not because of backlash or anything like that, I just don’t want to. I don’t think I should have to. It’s a weird thing, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Having to come out. Why does everyone assume you’re straight until you come out? I’ve always been queer, and I don’t just assume the people I meet are straight. I don’t even think about it. Why do people care so much?” I note the anger in his voice. He cups my heel in his hand when he’s done lacing my skate up. “Why are straight people so angry about us existing? It pisses me off.”

“Because you might be with Sarah if people like that didn’t exist?”

He stares down at my skate. “Because too many people are hurt or worse just for simply being themselves. It’s sick. It’s evil. That might sound harsh, but it’s true. Homophobes are evil. If you can sit there and vote against anyone having the right to exist, you are fucking evil, I don’t care.” He’s quiet for a moment and I let him gather himself. “And yeah, okay, I hate that she thought that by being her beautiful, amazing, sweet self she’d somehow be detrimental to my career. Or worse, that she’d be in danger. I fucking hate that. And I hate anyone who thinks it’s okay to hate her.” He scrubs a hand down his face.

I sit there unable to move or think. Red creeps along his temples, his jaw tight. “You’re a good guy, Atlas.” I lift my hand to his face and pull him in for a kiss. “I’m sorry you two didn’t work out.”

His hand drops my skate and he stands with ease. “I’m not pining after her, just so you know. I just wish shit were different. I’m happy for her, and I know she’s in love with who she’s meant to be with. I just wish sometimes, a little, that that person could’ve been me.” He smiles softly. “I just want someone to love me like that. Just once. I bet it would feel like the best thing in the world.”

I stare at him for a moment before I need to look away.

“Anyway,” he laughs. “That shit was heavy. Come on. Let me see how terrible you are at this.” With my hand in his, he helps me up on unsteady feet. “Have you ever worn skates before?”

“No.”

“I can tell.” I glare at him. Atlas smiles softly. “Hold on to the wall, okay. I’ll help you on.” He moves with ease, stepping onto the ice as easy as if he were wearing sneakers while I grip the bench for dear life. Atlas is already on the ice, skating backwards with easy control. “Look how cute you are. Like a baby deer.”

“Shut up.” I try to find my balance and Atlas skates over to me, reaching out his hand.

“You trust me?”

I huff. “I drove hours with you to a place I’ve never been to before, and you’re asking me that now?”

“Come on, Gage.” I look up and take his hand. The warmth soaks into me fast. Grounding.

“Don’t let go.”

Atlas’s grip tightens just a little. “Wouldn’t think of it.”

He guides me onto the ice, and the moment I step onto it I slip a little, but he holds me firm. Atlas’s shoulders tense, and his fingers tighten around me. “Just relax, okay.” Warm in his arms, I start to unwind. “Bend your knees a little,” he says, lips close to my ear. “You’re too stiff.”

“I have a very good reason to be stiff.”

Atlas guides us, holding me upright for most of it. He leans into me. “Bend your knees.”

I glare, then I comply.

“Good boy.”

“Uh-uh. That’s for you. It’s not for me.”

“Oh? You don’t want to be a good boy for me?”

“Atlas, if you keep that up, I will have your ass painted red by the end of the night.” His grin is feral. The shift is subtle, but it helps me relax. I wobble less as he helps me.

“See, slightly less terrible.” Atlas smiles.