Page 40 of I'm Your Guy
At least I hope it was.
“That’s a nice idea, Mom, but I promise this isn’t about the church service, or avoiding Cal. I legit can’t swing a trip home right now.”
“Is it bad, honey?” she whispers. “Will you be okay?”
I hesitate before answering, because my mother will know if I’m lying. “It was bad, Mom. Macklin left me with a huge mess, and I really should have known better.”
“Oh, sweetheart. Someday you’ll find a good man. I just know it.”
I’m not sure she’s right. “In better news, I got a big design job for this month, and it’s going to help me get my head above water. Meanwhile, don’t, uh, send Christmas cards to the old address. I’ve moved out of my apartment.”
“Carter! Really? Was the rent too much?”
“It was. But I’m working on alternatives and staying with Rigo. I’ll be okay, Mom. I promise.”
But I’m not sure she believes me.
FIFTEEN
Tommaso
We have a pregame meeting over lunch in Buffalo. I’m picking at my fries and trying to find my focus.
“We gave up our last game in this arena, so we’re here to change the tune,” Coach says. “You play a better technical game than these guys, and I expect to see that technique shine through this evening.”
Yessir, I privately confirm. I need to play well tonight. I’ve been inconsistent, and it’s driving me a little batty. My anxiety is through the roof.
Coach finishes his remarks, and gives the floor to Tate, my least favorite of the staff. “I’ll be quick,” he says.
I snort, because everybody knows that people who say, “I’ll be quick,” are the kind of people who are incapable of being quick. It’s just a fact.
“First up, it’s time to send me the names of your dates for this year’s black-tie events. The first one is a benefit for the Denver Children’s Hospital. All are expected to attend, so shoot me the names of the WAGs you’re bringing, so I can do the seating chart.”
“’Scuse me!” Kapski says from the table next to mine. “It’s not just wives and girlfriends anymore.”
My gaze darts instinctively toward Newgate, who’s calmly stirring some milk into his coffee.
“Hey, my bad,” Tate says. “I’m just used to saying ‘WAGs’ without remembering that it’s an acronym. I’ll do better. For Newgate.”
Newgate looks up and catches me staring at him. “No offense taken,” he says. “Happy to list Gavin as my date for the benefit. Although by February, a lot of Denver will already know his name.”
Tate smirks. “I’m glad you’re braced for that. And speaking of which—we have a date for Newgate’s news article. It’s going to publish the week of Christmas. We locked in that timing because we’re hosting Brooklyn—Mr. Newgate’s former team, and a friendly crew—for our first game after the holiday.”
“A game I expect to win,” Newgate says. “I love those guys. But I also love to watch them lose.”
The whole room laughs.
“Brooklyn will get a heads-up about the event,” Tate continues. “We’re going to make the night special. The national anthem will be sung by the Rocky Mountains Gay Men’s Chorus. And we’ll offer Pride jerseys in the spirit shop. Profits will be donated to You Can Play and other equality charities.”
My first thought is: I wonder if I can snag one of those Pride jerseys for Carter’s friend Rigo.
My second thought is more like a slow-motion car crash. Which teams are we playing right after that Brooklyn game?
I dig out my phone and pull up the schedule. My stomach twists when I see the result.
Trenton is our first game on the road after Newgate’s announcement. That’s the same game where I’m supposed to pose for photographs with the worst two men in hockey.
And then I’m supposed to take the ice and behave like a gentleman while Marco and his teammates throw homophobic chirps at my teammate?
