Page 27 of Game Changer
“I’m working tomorrow,” Kip said, when he got out of the bathroom. He seemed as unsure as Scott was. “You play tomorrow night, right?”
“Yeah. And Saturday.”
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning? Unless you think that magic smoothie isn’t working anymore.”
Scott grinned. “I think it’s still working. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
“Okay.”
Kip left the bedroom and Scott followed. He watched as Kip retrieved his coat and backpack from the floor, and put on his sneakers.
“So, uh...have a good practice,” Kip said when he was ready to leave.
“Thanks.” Scott frowned. Why was this so awkward?
“Tomorrow morning, then.”
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
Fuck it.
Scott strode over to Kip and kissed him. He held his face in his hands and tried toshowhim what he was feeling, since he couldn’t tell him. Kip seemed to hear him, because he kissed back just as fervently, and it was all Scott could do to keep himself from pressing Kip up against a wall, unfastening his jeans, and...
“I’ll see ya,” Kip said, murmuring the words against Scott’s lips. “Tomorrow.”
Scott reluctantly let him go. He wanted to walk him to the front door, but there was no need. Kip didn’t need the codes to leave the building. Besides, it was better that no one saw them together so early in the morning.
After the door closed, Scott threw himself back against a wall, cursing how fucking hard this was. It wasn’t just being gay, or being famous. It was both of those things combined andknowingthat it wasn’t possible to openly be who he was in his line of work.
He used to think this was the price. He had been fortunate in so many ways and this was the trade-off. He could rise from poverty to play in the NHL—play inNew York City, even—and enjoy this dream life that was so close to perfection.
He just couldn’t fall in love. Couldn’t share with his teammates the stories of dating and marriage and children. He could try to fill that void with everything that made his life exciting and enviable, but that void always remained. Always gnawing away at him.
His first few seasons in the NHL hadn’t been so hard. He’d been a kid, not looking for more than an occasional release anyway. The older guys had had families, sure, but Scott had been hanging out with the other young players. As Scott got older, it had started getting harder. At twenty-eight, he was hardly an old man, but in hockey years he was getting up there. Each season that went by, he found it more of a struggle to conceal who he really was.
He wasn’t lonely, exactly. He had his teammates, and they were like family. But sometimes he longed for something in his life that had nothing to do with hockey. Nothing to do with being famous.
But his life belonged to too many people: the NHL, the New York Admirals, his agent, his coaches, his sponsors, the press, and the fans. Maybe it was too much to hope for something that could take him away from all of that.
Or maybe that thing had just walked out of his apartment, after a whispered promise that he’d see him tomorrow.
* * *
Kip received a text from Elena while he was on the train back to Brooklyn.
Come to this thing with me or we aren’t friends anymore.
She sent a link immediately after. It led to an article describing the upcoming Equinox Foundation Gala for STEM Opportunities for Youth, a high-profile annual fund-raiser that brought together a who’s who of New York. It wasn’t something he’d ever thoughthe’dbe attending. Not if he wasn’t serving hors d’oeuvres at it, anyway.
Kip read over the article. The gala was in three weeks.
He texted back.I don’t have a tux!
Elena replied quickly and, he imagined, irritably.Rent one.
Would Scott be there? He had to have been invited...
Kip grinned. The Equinox Gala! Things were looking up! He was still riding the high of the night he had just spent with Scott Hunter. And the possibility of similar nights in the future seemed to be implied when they’d parted...
