Page 55 of Skating to Him

“How does this work?” I toyed with a fold in my sweats. I should have asked Tyler more about this when he was here.

“We agree on the terms of a contract and then I represent you. It’s not just for getting signed to a team. I’d continue to represent you in public relations, trades, the usual,” he said.

“Can my father look the contract over?” I pursed my lips. I hoped I wasn’t sounding like a spoiled brat, but Dad was good with contracts. He’d be mad if I didn’t let him take a look.

“Of course. I’ll need you to fill out a consent form to allow me to share it with him first,” he said.

“Sure. How do we get this done?” I flicked my gaze out my window into the sunny afternoon, the tall trees throwing shadows over the landscaping rocks in the courtyard. Things were happening, and it didn’t all seem real yet.

“Text me an email, and I’ll send you an e-sign for the consent. Then, with your permission, I’ll contact your father.”

“Sounds good.” I chewed my finger. I should call Dad after we hung up. I had to tell him about Thanksgiving too.

“Okay then. I’ll speak to you soon. Send me your email,” he said. “And, Rowan? Heal up. I’ve got some ideas on prospects already.”

“Yes, sir.” I cringed. Why had I called him sir? “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” He ended the call.

Holy shit, what do I do first? Call Dad or Tyler? Dad. Taking a deep breath, I found Dad’s number and called him.

The phone rang a few times and clicked. “Rowan? How’s the knee? I saw the injury, I’m sorry I haven’t?—”

“I’m fine, Dad, no worries. It’s just a sprain.” I smirked. He was a busy man, and I wasn’t a baby anymore who needed to be coddled every time I got injured. “I have news for you.”

“Yeah?” Footsteps carried through the phone. “Let me go somewhere more private.”

“Where are you?” I arched a brow and adjusted my ice pack. I was getting sick of wearing this thing, but I’d get better faster if I did.

“At the courthouse. I don’t usually get involved in litigations, but the new partner needed backup today.” He huffed. “Anyway, tell me this news.”

Was he thinking I was getting scouted? I clenched my jaw for a beat. “I found an agent, and he’s a damn good one. He’s the same agent who represents the Hodge boys.”

“Is it? You’ve been paired up with Tyler Hodge. He seems to be good for your game.” His smile carried through the phone.

“He is.” In more ways than one. My chest clenched. I couldn’t tell him about us yet. But I could maybe feel him out. “Anyway, we’ve been spending a lot of time together. You know, as partners, we need to get to know each other…”

“You mean partners on the ice.” He chuckled. “The Hodge boy is gay, right? He’s one of the, what do they call themselves?”

“The squad, Dad. He’s one of a group of guys who are queer players on the team.” As tightness wove through my body, Ibreathed through it. I wasn’t liking his tone. “So yeah, I guess I’ve found another gay friend.” But shit, Tyler was so much more than a friend. With an ache winding through my chest, I clutched my hoodie over my heart. It hurt to lie about what we had.

“Oh, I suppose that’s not so bad. Teddy’s been over to see your mother. He’s a good kid,” he said.

Okay, so now I was confused, and we’d gotten off track. With a puff of breath, I said, “Anyway, Dean Wilson wants to sign me on as his client and says he’s already got ideas for prospects. I figured you’d want to take a look at his contract.”

“You figured right. I’ve heard of him, and he’s got a good reputation, but you can never be too careful.” He inhaled. “Give me his number, and I’ll connect with him.”

“Okay. I’m signing a consent form for you.” Dad would know all about this shit. I glanced at the television across the room, still paused on the show.

“Good,” he said. “Maybe we can go over it when you come home for Thanksgiving.”

My heart pitched. “Uh, I don’t want to come home for Thanksgiving this year.” I bit the side of my cheek. Was he going to be mad? “I got a chance to have Thanksgiving dinner with a few of the Coyote players, so I’d like to stay here.”

“Really? Coyotes? Who?” The tapping of his dress shoes filled the background of the call.

“Well, um…” Shit, they were all out and queer. Would Dad say something about it? “Jett Jarvis, Mason Hopkins, and Archer Carlson.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.Say something about them all being queer. Go ahead.

“Oh, the former ASU players…” He sucked in a breath. “And the winger from Dallas who was bullied?”

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