Page 74 of Misconduct Zone

The media coordinator breaks the silence. “It’s time to leave for the plane, but Mr. Dimon offered his private room for us to talk.” She motions between herself and Dylon.

“I am coming with you,” I say.

Mr. Dimon likes to travel with the team, but he missed this game. This is a distraction he will not want. At least the flight to New Jersey is about the same as the drive from the airport to our apartment. We will be home in a few hours and can hide until a light practice tomorrow afternoon.

Regrettably, Mr. Dimon has other plans for us in the morning.

Much later, after the lights are off and Dylon’s body nestles securely against mine, I say, “You did not have to do that. Technically, what she says reveals more about her character than ours.”

“She’s my mother. We are going to receive hate, but I’ll be damned if I let her poison us.”

“Her thoughts and opinions will never hurt us. We are stronger than that.” My shoulders loosen as he burrows his head in the space between my neck and shoulder.

“We are.” Dylon kisses the hollow of my throat. “I should’ve talked to you about disclosing my disease.”

“Käraste, I support your decisions on how and when to talk about your life. Those decisions are yours to make, not mine.” I would never be upset over something so trivial. I did not love Boe like I love Dylon, but he did teach me that life can surprise you in terrible ways, and I want to love without fear. It’s something I’m struggling with, but Dylon makes it easy.

“But as a couple, I should—”

“Do not worry about what you think we should or should not do. I only care about supporting and loving you.” I throw a leg over his and kiss the top of his head.

“How did I get so lucky?”

“It might be your name, but I am the lucky one.” We fall asleep wrapped around each other, and the peaceful moment gets me through the next few days.

“We’re going to Mr. Dimon’s office. He said to bring you up immediately. I, for one, was not going to wait in the lobby, but we’ll be twenty seconds behind. Don’t think he won’t notice.” Finn doesn’t let us exit the elevator on his floor as he shoves in and presses the button for the top floor.

I do my best to control my panic. Depending on how Mr. Dimon found out about our relationship could determine his course of action on how to handle our contracts.We are both playing great.That is the mantra I repeat to myself.

The New York City skyline is impressive from his office, but I focus on our boss and the person the team employs for PR crisis management.

“Have a seat.” Mr. Dimon directs us to a seating area by the window across the room from his desk.

We sit without speaking, and Finn, who never stops talking, is also silent.

Mr. Dimon steeples his fingers. “I wish you had come to me with your relationship before speaking about it in front of cameras,” he says evenly.

Dylon opens his mouth, but Finn cuts in. “We were crafting ideas about how and when to disclose it and when we had a rough strategy, we planned to loop you in. He didn’t confirm their relationship so it’s only conjecture, and we can still control the narrative.”

“You are always willing to protect the players even when they do not listen to your advice.” He raises an eyebrow at Finn, who clamps his mouth shut.

“It was my fault. I used the media to draw boundaries with my mother, and it wasn’t fair to the team or my boyfriend,” Dylon concedes.

Mr. Dimon nods at the crisis manager, who gets up and leaves the room.

“Thank you for affirming your relationship and telling me the truth.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

“Wait,” Dylon exclaims, and I grip his thigh to quiet him. Mr. Dimon has foresight and vision, and we should hear his thoughts before accusing him of being underhanded.

“Mr. Drakenberg was not subtle when clinging to you in Germany. And you were completely comfortable with him. Body language is powerful and not hard to read between the two of you.” He leans back and rests an ankle on his knee.

“We told the team the other night, but our families do not know yet.” I let him read into that.

“We want to avoid being the poster boys for gay hockey players. Or bi hockey players or queer players. I didn’t figure myself out until recently.” Mr. Dimon offers me a soft smile.

“As I said before, your sexuality isn’t my concern, but I take issue when your personal relationship plays out on the ice.” Mr. Dimon sets his jaw.

“We’re playing great,” Dylon says as Finn interjects, “They are very professional.”

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