Page 32 of Until He Scores

“Hey,” I said, approaching him slowly. “You alright?”

“Shit,” he replied. “Why’d it have to be you that found me?”

I could take that question one of several ways. Not wanting to fight anymore, I took the high road. “Because, you know, even if we’re not on good terms or haven’t been for a while now, I’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

He snorted, then gagged again before turning away to puke. “Fuck, what was I thinking?” The whine in his voice had sympathy filling me. “I am never drinking again.”

I’d have laughed if it’d been any other time, but not right now. Not at this crossroads. “I told Wes I’d get you home. You don’t have to be by yourself.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you’ve always been my best friend.” That was the truth. None of the guys from high school or even the people I’d met over the years could ever compare to Thierry. None of them would ever replace him.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he said, taking the bottle of water from me when I held it out. “Hasn’t in a long time.” He rinsed his mouth out and held onto the water.

“You’re right. It hasn’t, and I didn’t.” I exhaled. “I’m sorry, Thierry. For everything. I won’t make any excuses. Nothing I could say will ever make up for what’s happened between us. Or me quitting all those years ago.”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s not like you’re gay or bi. I had no reason to be so damn jealous of you or Cherie. Like I wasn’t important to you. Worse, like you left me behind.”

“Left you behind?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Thier, you’re one of the best hockey players I’ve ever seen on the ice. If anything, I was holding you back.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said, taking a small sip of water. “I was lost out there the first few months without you. I thought for sure the coach would send me home because I couldn’t get my shit together. Having you with me gave me the confidence to play the best game every time.”

My heart cracked a little more and crumbled with each word he spoke. Thierry held me in such a high esteem, I didn’t deserve his praise. “How did you overcome it?”

He shrugged. “I learned how to trust my teammates. When we were on the ice, I only trusted two people. You and coach. That was all I needed. Now, I’ve realized I have to have faith in the entire team if I want to continue to win.”

“I’m glad you figured it out,” I answered truthfully.

“I hate to sound like a broken record, Pope, but what are we doing?” He motioned between us. “What is this? Why are you suddenly acting so possessive of me?”

“I don’t know.” Another truth. “I don’t understand how I feel. Is it unrequited love, or just jealousy? Whatever it is, the thought of you being with someone else makes me irrationally angry. Also, a bit sad. Like my whole world bottomed out. That confuses me even more, too.”

“You’re not gay,” he reminded me, again, for the umpteenth time.

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” I quipped. “Like I hadn’t realized all this time I wasn’t gay.”

“So, I shouldn’t matter then,” he said, this time his voice was softer. “The angst and discord between us kept us apart for too long, Pope. I want my best friend back. The guy I could talk to about the game or have at my back when I stepped out onto the ice. I want you.”

The yearning in, “I want you,” knocked a huge chunk out of my doubts. “I saw this hashtag on social media or well a couple of them.”

“Oh? What were they?” He glanced up and some of the green in his jaw faded.

“One was #biforhim and the other was #biawakening,” I answered, still confused about the terms. “Is that possible?”

Thierry nodded. “Anything is possible, Pope. You just have to accept it when you finally figure it out.”

Right, of course. “Can I be both of those things? Could that be what I am?”

“Your sexuality is yours,” he said, sobering. “I’ll never force you to tell me anything about yourself that you’re not ready to say out loud. Remember, coming out is extremely personal. It can be scary and exhilarating at the same time. Also, no one has the right to expose you to anyone. Also, I’d never force you to choose me. If you’re not bi, it’s okay, too.”

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Give me time, Thier. I just need a little more time.”

He nodded. “I think I’m good now. You can go. I’ll call an Uber.”

“I told Wes I’d get you home safe. Don’t worry about Uber, man.” I moved to his side, ready for him to lean on me so he could walk, but Thierry surprised me as he ambled back toward the cars unassisted. “What a night, right?”

Thierry snickered, though the sound carried the weight of our conversation and sadness. “Something like that for sure.”

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