Page 75 of Misconduct Zone

Mr. Dimon picks up the remote and cues up a clip of me in Germany vaulting over the wall and attacking the player who fouled Dylon. Next he plays a clip ofDylon punching the Dallas player who violated the face-off rules and knocked me out.

“You were saying?” He pins us with a formidable glare.

We do not have an excuse for our behavior.

“As your GM, I am obligated to tell you that your behavior is unacceptable and will not be tolerated. Those,” he gestures to the screen, “are misconduct penalties. Any further infractions like these will result in monetary fines. As a man, I can appreciate your desire to protect your partner, but I need your personal assurances that you will refrain from egregious misconduct going forward.”

Finn begs us with his eyes to agree.

“Sir, it’s a physical game and tempers get heated, especially when we are taunted with slurs. I am not sure—”

“Drake, I’m not asking you to become a different player. You have a reputation as the primary protector of your teammates. I am telling you that you can’t attack a player akin to assault. If there is not a puck in sight, you are prohibited by me from going after another player. Are we clear?”

“Crystal, sir,” Dylon readily agrees since his demand is reasonable.

“Drake?” he asks.

“Yes, sir. I will limit my fights to puck-related incidents.” The tightness in my chest unclenches.

“That’s all I ask.”

By the time we leave for practice, we have several strategies to deal with the media regarding Dylon’s time in rehab and being a couple, but we did not decide on a timeline to come out. I would prefer to do it out of season like Liska did. Keep the focus on hockey for the time being.

Chapter 37

Dylon

Acar whizzes by with a large camera lens pointed at us. I’m not sure if I fucked up or if this would’ve happened anyway. We are stalker-level followed by the paparazzi. We heard rumors someone was found going through the trash bins behind our building. There’s nothing to find worth dumpster diving for. And now we’re being followed to and from practice.

“Let’s get takeout tonight. I don’t feel like cooking. We can eat, watch a movie, and have mind-blowing sex.” I reach for Lars's hand but stop myself just in time. “This sucks,” I grumble.

“I can suck, and you can decide if it is a good or bad thing.” He glances sideways at me.

“Always a good thing.” My mood improves with thoughts of Lars’s mouth on me. “I need out of my head.” All the secrets piled up, and I didn’t realize how much they affected me until the world knew about them. I wonder if it would be easier to get all the secrets out now and not have to go through this again.

“Your head is exactly what I want.”

“Now you’re talking!” I try not to grin and give the paps another incriminating photo.

“Huh, Trevor’s texting me.” Anything Trevor has to say usually comes through Patrik. I open the video message from a gossip site of Caleb Benz walking into practice like he’s on a runway and burst out laughing. “You’regoing to need to watch this at home to fully appreciate it. I’m glad someone is having fun.”

My phone beeps again, and I read it aloud to Lars.

Trevor: I think he’s auditioning for my next fashion show. Bless his heart

Finn calls and I cringe. He never has good news lately. No calls with offers for brand deals or other exciting news.

“What’s up, buttercup?” I fail to sound upbeat.

“Hey, soooo, listen,” he pauses with a sharp intake of breath, “there’s a post that went viral of all the times you’ve touched in public, secret smiles, and a speculative timeline of a romantic relationship. It’s bullshit, but it’s gaining traction. And your use of the word love in your press conference did not go unnoticed. The comments are either shipping you or trashing you as only the homophobes can do.” Finn clears his throat.

“A few sports news outlets have asked the team for a comment. I’m confirming we’re going with the ‘We stand behind all our players, but do not make statements regarding their relationships on their behalf.’ Or have you changed your mind? You went rogue on me the other night.”

My eyes are focused on Lars, who glances at me and shrugs as if it’s my decision.

“Let’s stick with the plan for now. I didn’t mean to go rogue and will try to give you a heads-up if I go off script again.” I rub my temple and notice more cameras pointed at us from another car.

“Don’t fret, my pet. We can handle curves in the road. Enjoy your night and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he sings.

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