Page 2 of The Puck Contract

"Ah." Becker's usual smirk fades. "The Kingsport thing?"

Yeah. The Kingsport thing.

One week ago, I'd been called into GM Donaldson's office, where he and Claire from PR were waiting with expressions so serious I thought I was being traded.

"Ansel, thanks for coming in," Donaldson had said, using my real name, which was the first red flag. Nobody calls me Ansel except my mother when she's pissed.

Claire had jumped right in with her tablet ready. "We've been in final negotiations with Kingsport for your equipment endorsement deal."

"And?" I'd asked, already sensing the 'but' coming.

"And they're expressing some... hesitation." Claire's professional smile hadn't reached her eyes. "They're concerned about investing in what they called an 'unstable public image.'"

I'd laughed without humor. "Unstable? I've been out for almost a year. What's unstable about that?"

Donaldson had cleared his throat. "They're worried about controversy. You're the first openly gay player they're looking to sponsor, and they want assurances that you're... settled."

"Settled," I'd repeated flatly. "So they're fine with a gay player as long as I'm perfectly boring?"

"Not boring," Claire had corrected quickly. "Stable. Family-oriented. They mentioned that most of their other athletes are in committed relationships, with social media presence that reflects traditional values."

I'd stared at her. "Traditional values. Right."

"What Claire is trying to say," Donaldson had cut in, "is that Kingsport would feel more comfortable if you presenteda more... consistent personal life. The speculation about your dating habits isn't helping."

"My dating habits?" I'd echoed. "I've gone on like three dates in the past year!"

Claire had swiped through her tablet. "Yes, but the tabloids have linked you to at least seven different men, including that actor and the barista from the coffee shop near the practice facility."

"I asked for extra foam! That's not a relationship!"

"The point is," Donaldson had continued, "Kingsport is prepared to offer a very generous deal, but they want to see stability before they commit. The contract would be finalized right after playoffs."

Claire had leaned forward with that PR gleam in her eye. "We think a steady relationship would help your image. Show them you're the same reliable Groover, just with a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend."

I'd sat back, stunned. "You want me to get a boyfriend to sell hockey sticks?"

"We want you to consider how your personal choices affect your professional opportunities," Donaldson had replied smoothly.

And that had been that. No ultimatum, just a strongly worded suggestion that my seven-figure endorsement deal hinged on my ability to present myself as one half of a stable, boring, gay couple.

Back in the hotel room, Becker checks his watch. "We should head down. You good?"

"Yeah," I sigh, shaking off the memory. "Let's get this over with."

We're halfway to the door when a sharp knock makes us both turn. Becker raises an eyebrow at me. "Expecting someone?"

"No." I move to open it, expecting maybe Washington or one of the other players.

Instead, I find a young guy standing in the hallway, fidgeting in a tuxedo that's clearly rental quality. He's shorter than me by a few inches, with wavy black hair that looks like he tried and failed to tame it. His eyes widen slightly when he sees me, then dart to Becker, then back to me.

"Hi," he says, his voice a bundle of nerves and forced confidence. "Are you my boyfriend, then?"

I blink, utterly confused, as Becker lets out a bark of laughter behind me.

"Well," Becker says, clapping me on the shoulder as he squeezes past, "looks like your Kingsport problem just solved itself. I'll tell Cap you'll be down in a minute."

He disappears down the hallway, leaving me staring at the stranger in my doorway.

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