Page 55 of Reckless On Ice

“Yeah, well, we have plenty of baggage and years of bad times to go with the good, so it’s not all rainbows and flowers,” I remind her.

“Hello, my husband knocked me up on vacation, then cut off all contact with me when we got back, so I couldn't even tell him for five years. You think you’re the only one with baggage?” She scoffs and waves a hand like it’s no big deal, when it was actually a huge deal for us both. “But look at us, getting our happily ever afters like the baddies we are.” She guides me to a special corridor and flashes her all-accessI’m the owner of this whole damn place don’t question where I can gobadge at the security guard who lets us through.

We end up outside the locker room, and I see Lilah coming out of the media room down the hall. “Oh, hey, Ryder should be out in a second. He had to do press and was remarkably nice. Did you have anything to do with that?” she asks, smiling at me.

“No comment,” I say while nodding vigorously. “Lilah, this is Harlowe Olsen. Harlowe, this is Lilah Williams. It’s about time my favorite girls met.”

The women greet one another, full of compliments, and immediately hit it off when Lilah mentions working through Harlowe’s latest cookbook,The FoulmouthedFoodie’s Guide to Guilt-Free Snacks. The big man exiting the media room catches my attention, half-stripped of his goalie pads and wearing a Hydras team shirt. He heads straight for me, bypassing Lilah and Harlowe and pushing me up against the wall with a ferocious kiss. He’s taller in his skates, and his bulky pads make it hard to get truly close, but he’s doing his best. I push him off as I laugh.

“Ryder, you stink like an unwashed ball sack met a gym bag, and you’re entirely too sweaty to be kissing me here, but thank you for that very public display of affection when members of the press are literally all around us,” I remind him.

“You’re in my jersey, with my name on your back. I’ll kiss you however I fucking want, no matter who’s around,” he says, clearly hopped up on the win and adrenaline.

“Why don't you go shower, and we can talk after?” I suggest.

“We’re going out to celebrate. I want you with me,” he says, a note of possession in his tone that I can't argue with.

“Of course, you monster. Now go shower, you really smell. How often do you wash your pads?” I hold up a hand to stop his answer. “You know what, I don't think I want to know. We’ll wait for you.”

I watch Ryder disappear into the locker room and return to Harlowe and Lilah, who is smiling like a fool.

“I swear that man had a lobotomy or was replaced by aliens,”she quips, and I ignore it.

“Come on, I know where we can wait that’s more comfortable,” Harlowe says, leading the way. “I have to head home to my kids, but y’all can try out the fancy flavored water dispenser I had installed while you’re waiting, and I’ll walk you out after.”

Twenty-nine

Ryder

Knox and I walk into the Dirty Bird with Westy, Campbell, Rook, Nico, and Lilah. It feels like I’m coming full circle when we end up at a booth in the same section as the last time the team was here for our coach-mandated bonding experiment. Lilah goes with Campbell and Rook to place an order for our group, while Westy and Nico get into a heated argument about the best early two-thousand boy bands, allowing me a moment to reflect on the last several months.

Two men come up to the table with their eyes fixed on Knox. Instinctively, I turn my body to block him from them, not sure of their intentions.

“Knox Contraire?” one man in a Condors T-shirt asks as he nervously shifts from foot to foot.

Knox puts his hand on my shoulder and gently eases me back. I do so grudgingly, still not comfortable allowing anyone to have access to him without being between them.

“Yeah, that’s me. What can I do for you guys tonight?” he asks pleasantly, though with a reservation that I can pick up because I’m used to his moods now.

“We just wanted to say how brave you are, and how much we admire you. We’ve been together for a few months now. Reading your story helped give us the courage to tell our families about our relationship. Thank you,” the second man says, grasping the hand of the first man who spoke and lacing their fingers.

I hear Knox swallow next to me, and I feel my own chest tightening. “Thank you for saying that. It means the world to me to know that I had any kind of positive contribution to your lives. I hope telling your families has made you both happier.”

“It really has,” the first man says, looking at his boyfriend. “Charlie and I are still kind of new to this, but having our families know has taken so much pressure off.”

“I won’t let Danny talk your ear off any longer. We're big fans and just wanted to thank you. Hope you have a good night, and you get the love you're looking for,” Charlie says, before pulling Danny away from our booth toward the bar exit.

“That’s crazy,” I say quietly when Charlie and Danny have gone. “Has that happened before?

“It’s been happening a lot, actually. People will come up to me after games, or when I’m out and about, and tell me how I’ve influenced or affected them. I didn’t realize Lilah’s article or my coming out would have any sort of ripple effect. I just thought it would make my team hate me and people turn their backs on me. Instead, the team has been amazingly supportive, and more people are cool than not, even though some are still hateful dicks.”

My heart hurts when I hear him say that, because it’s what I did to him in high school, and even a few months ago.

“You know, this is where I was sitting when I watched you fumble that pass and opened my stupid mouth that got me in so much trouble and made me go viral,” I confess, my chin on his shoulder as I look around the bar, which isn’t super crowded. I make sure there aren't any phones pointed at me this time. Not that it would matter. There won't be any slurs coming out of my mouth ever again, but I want us to be the ones to break the news of our relationship, rather than some nosy asshole with a phone and internet access.

“You know this is a Condors bar, right? The name kind of gives it away. Football fans come here for watch parties when we have games,” Knox says, looking around. He was nervous to come here when I told him where we were going because he thought he’d get recognized by fans, which he clearly already has. “It’s no wonder someone filmed you and put you on blastwhen you said what you did. You were in the wrong territory to be saying something bad about their team during a game,” he finishes with a laugh.

“I should have known, but I wasn't thinking, which has always been my problem.” I slide my hand along his inner thigh of the leg that’s resting against mine and tuck my fingers under his balls for a quick squeeze.

---