Neuman shot the puck to Myles.
Grabbing the puck, Myles faked a shot and brought his stick behind him, knocking the puck in behind the goalie’s skate.
A horn blew and a red lamp lit on top of the net.
“Goal! Holy fuck, did you see that, Coop? That was your boy.” Jumping up and down, Eli grabbed my shoulders and hauled me out of my chair, forcing me to jump with him.
With laughter bubbling out of me, I said, “Fuck yeah, my baby scored!”
The Devils circled Myles, throwing arms in the air and hugging him. He smiled wider than I’d ever seen him.
When the game was over,I said my goodbyes to Eli and headed home. Since our flight left early tomorrow morning for Texas State, we had to be in bed. As I drove my truck to the curb and parked, I looked at the house. Light spilled onto the landscaping rock of the front yard from the main room’s window. Zoma must be home, since Ace was on the road. What would a future with Myles look like? I wouldn’t dwell too much on the traveling aspect.
I climbed out of the truck and strolled to the front door, breathing the cool night air. Arizona weather in October was proving to be much better than August. The evenings were finally cooling off, which also meant our home games wouldn’t feel like they were being played in the depths of hell. As I swung the door open, I chuckled to myself.
“Hey, Cooper. How was the game?” Zoma stood in the kitchen, rinsing a plate in the sink, his slender frame wrapped in a big t-shirt and thin sweats.
“It was great. ASU won.” I shut the door and strode into the room, plopping onto a stool at the kitchen island. “Myles got a goal and an assist.” How much did Zoma know about hockey?
“He did? That’s great.” His face lit up. “I hope it helps his confidence.” He set the plate in the dishwasher. “Want something to drink?” Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a bottled water.
“Yeah, can you grab me one of those orange Gatorades?” Planting my elbows on the counter, I mulled over his words. I rarely got to see Zoma alone like this. “What do you know of Myles’s situation with his family and his hockey career?”
Zoma set the bottled drink in front of me and pursed his lips. “Myles is a quiet one. He’s only recently been expressing his lack of confidence in his game.” He sipped his water. “Ace means well, but he won’t let Myles even mention his insecurities about being signed for the NHL.”
Unscrewing the cap on my drink, I said, “Why do you think that is? I mean, from what I saw tonight, Myles is a skilled player. I can’t imagine a team not picking him up.” Myles had to believe in himself, or he might self-sabotage.
“He’s the youngest of the squad and when they were on the team together, he always played second string. I think he worried he wasn’t good enough, but maybe he wasn’t seasoned enough. There’s a difference. Some hockey players just need more time.” He leaned his hip against the counter, watching me.
“You sound like you know a lot about hockey.” I drank some Gatorade. Zoma was from Colorado, right? They had plenty of ice up there.
“I do. I uh, I dated a hockey player before Ace.” His gaze dropped to the counter. “He left me for an NHL contract.” With a snicker and a headshake, he said, “His career took over his lifeandour relationship.”
I stared at him. “What do you mean, he left you for hockey?” Shit, Myles wouldn’t be like that. And I sure as hell wouldn’t be like that.
“It’s a long story, but he wasn’t out and when he got his contract, he ended our relationship.” He eyed me. “I think he was an asshole, but he also didn’t want the NHL to know he was gay.”
My heart lurched. Myles wasn’t out. “How difficult is it for gay players in the NHL?” His friends were all out, so how bad could it be?
“You know his friend Mason is in a relationship with Jett Jarvis.” Zoma’s gaze turned hard. “Jett had to leave Dallas because his team bullied him so badly when they found out he was gay.”
“Shit, really?” I wrinkled my forehead. “But what about the Coyotes? They’ve got three queer players on the roster, right?” Would Myles be better off keeping us a secret if he wanted a contract?
“They’re a very supportive team. It’s still new for players to be out, so there’s bound to be some hiccups along the way.” He softened his gaze and rounded the counter to me, skimming his hand down my arm. “Hey, I’m sure wherever Myles lands, they’ll treat him fairly. Like I said, things are changing.”
With a nod, I drank more of my Gatorade. “Will there be teams who won’t give him a contract because of his sexuality?” Did Myles’s agent know about him? But hadn’t the guy he was talking with signed his friend? I had so many questions to ask him now.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Zoma pursed his lips. “If he plays a good season, I don’t think he’ll have to worry about it. He wouldn’t play with an organization that has a problem with it, anyway.”
“Yeah.” I twisted the bottle in my hands. Things suddenly became very complicated. I hated complication. I was an easy-going guy and when there were complications like this in the past, I didn’t handle it well.
The garage door groaned open, and headlights flashed through the front room.
“Looks like Myles is home.” Zoma gave me a warm smile. “Ice packs are in the freezer. He’ll probably need a few.”
“Yeah, he got hit pretty hard early in the game.” With my heart pattering into my throat, I stood and walked toward the door to the garage. I couldn’t wait to see him. Hell, I’d admitted out loud tonight that I loved him.
The door opened and Myles stepped inside the house in ablue suit with a white shirt, his large duffel slung over one shoulder, his hair still damp. “Hey guys.” A wide smile swept over his mouth.