Page 135 of Game Changer
“Is that really what you think?” Scott asked. His voice was quiet, but there was rage and hurt in it. “That I’membarrassedto be seen with you? Youknowthat’s not it.”
“I don’t know anything, Scott! I justwait here. In yourpenthouse.” He swept a hand across the spacious living room for emphasis. “I hole up here alone and imagine what it would be like to be able to go on normal dates with you, or to, I don’t know, tell myparentsthat I have a boyfriend!”
“Tell them!” Scott yelled. He threw up his hands. “Fuck, tell the whole world, Kip! I guess you know what’s best!”
“I know this isn’t who I am!”
“Do you know whoIam? I don’t get to just be Scott from Rochester, all right? I’ve been a fucking commodity since I was a teenager. I’ve been abrandfor almost as long. I don’t have the luxury of just being me. I can’t make decisions about my life independently. Peopledependon me!”
“Right. Don’t want your brand to suffer. Don’t want to tarnish it with your gayness.”
Scott snorted. “You have no fucking idea, Kip. None.”
“I guess not,” Kip said tightly.
“It’s theplayoffs.I don’t know if you get how big a deal that is. I’ve got a team—acity—depending on me. It’severythingto me, all right?”
The sting of tears finally hit Kip’s eyes. He nodded and clenched his jaw.Everything.
“I’m gonna go,” he managed to say.
Scott reached out a hand like he was going to stop him, but instead he dropped his arm, nodded, and said, “Fine.”
Kip picked up his backpack and left.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kip was drunk.
Scott was in Detroit, and Kip was drunk.
He had watched one period of the Admirals away game before leaving his parents’ house and taking the train to the Village. He’d thought about texting Shawn to see what he was up to, but he didn’t actually want to talk to anyone anyway.
Now he was on one of the bar stools at the Kingfisher. Cute, wonderful, flirty Kyle had been setting pints in front of him all night.
It was late. Kip noticed, with some surprise, that there weren’t many people left in the bar.
“Last call, sexy,” Kyle drawled. His lips curved up into a suggestive little smile that had Kip mesmerized.
Kyle’s hair was blond, like Scott’s. His eyes were blue, but not like Scott’s. Kyle’s were a washed-out gray-blue. They were really nice. His bangs kept falling into them. Kip wanted to reach out and brush the hair away.
He was way too drunk.
“S’okay,” he said, with a flirty smile of his own, “was gonna head out anyway.”
“You got plans?” Kyle asked.
“I dunno. Home, I guess.”
Kyle grinned and leaned forward with his elbows on the bar. His face was suddenly very close. “Which way you headed?”
“Brooklyn.”
“Looks like we’re going the same way, then. I could walk with you to the subway?”
And Kip should have stopped the whole thing right there. It had bad idea written all over it.
But, fuck, it felt good to flirt like this. To just have someone be so open and honest about who they were and what they wanted. Kip felt like his old self.
