Page 79 of Decked, Wrecked and Pucked
Zeke’s voice cuts through, unshakable and calm as ever. “Coach, it’s not a big deal. It only turns into one if people let it—us included, which we don’t want. We’re still the same players. Same work ethic and loyalty. Nothing’s changing for the team. We’re still us.”
Coach leans back in his chair, arms crossed tight over his chest. “You know this is going to draw heat.”
“Heat? You mean like when Bradley got blackout drunk and trashed a fucking hotel lobby? Or when your PR genius hired that influencer who gave head to our backup goalie on the rink during a sponsored shoot, and it went viral? That kind of heat?” Roman lets out a bitter laugh, and this time, I let him go. “At least we’re giving you a heads-up so you can handle it before the press does.”
Coach sighs, tapping his pen against his desk. “You can’t control how this plays out. Once it’s out there, it’s going to beeverywhere, whether you want it to be or not, and people are gonna talk louder than they ever did about a damn sex tape.”
“So because people are bigoted pieces of shit, we’re supposed to stay silent?” I snap.
He lets out a slow, heavy breath and finally looks up at the three of us—not as players or a liability—but as men sitting before him.
“What I think doesn’t change the world, but I know this team, and if you’ve got each other’s backs on the ice the way you clearly do off it, I’d be an idiot to stand in your way.” There’s a beat of silence before he adds, “I don’t think the guys will give a damn—maybe just toss a little shit your way in the showers. The real heat will come from the media, the fans, and possibly the sponsors. There’s always going to be someone who won’t get it. Hell, I don’t even get it. I’ve been with the same woman since I was nineteen. But I know you three, and if your happiness is with each other, then so be it. I’ll do everything I can to make sure this isn’t some kind of ultimatum for you guys.”
Roman doesn’t even flinch. “If it ever comes down to that, we’ll walk. No decision to make.” And damn, I want to kiss the hell out of him for that, but Coach would probably keel over, and considering I barely passed the CPR course they made us take, that would be a whole new mess to clean up.
“Let’s not allow it to get to that point, yeah?” Coach says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just keep your personal shit tidy. That’s all I’m asking.”
Zeke raises a brow. “Have we ever not?”
I clear my throat. “We should probably mention we have a girlfriend too.”
Roman and Zeke whip their heads toward me, eyes wide, and I shrug back at them. “What? May as well get it all out now.”
Coach stares at us for a long second before groaning andrubbing his temples. “Jesus Christ, you kids… I can’t keep up. Whatever. You’ve got your boyfriend thing, your girlfriend thing, whatever-the-fuck thing. Just be ready for the press to chew you up and spit you out, and for the love of God, stay offline.” He stands up and waves us out like we’re bad dreams that he just wants gone.
We take the cue and leave his office. There are no more words, just the quiet understanding between us that whatever the hell comes next, we’ll face it together.
By the time we head down to the lockers to get ready for practice, I finally let out a breath I’ve been holding for years. No, really—since the night I caught Zeke staring at my mouth as we walked home from Audrey Nicholls’s party. I didn’t give him a chance to overthink it. I grabbed him and kissed him, and that was that. No regrets, no looking back.
Most of the guys are already half dressed and itching to hit the ice. I know it’s now or never—scratch that, it’s now or now. Roman steps up like he owns the place, his voice cutting through the chatter.
“Hey, assholes, listen up.” The room shuts up instantly, every head turning toward our captain. “We’ve just had a meeting with Coach this morning, and before this shit hits the media, we wanted you to hear it from us.”
I glance around the room, watching faces shift from confusion to curiosity. This is it. Thirty seconds from now, everything is going to change for good.
Chambers leans back on the bench, frowning. “Everything alright, Cap?”
“Yeah, we just need to get this out there so you’re not blindsided,” he says, then pauses, taking a breath. “We’re together, the three of us—me, Zeke, and Jasper. Have been since college. Living together, loving each other, all of it.”
For half a second, there’s dead silence, and I swear, you could hear a pin drop, and it’d sound like a gunshot.
And then the place fucking explodes.
Laughter. Cheering. Fists slamming lockers. Someone lets out a whistle that lasts way too long, a couple of guys start clapping, and a few shout things I’m pretty sure would get us all fined if anyone outside this room heard. Suddenly, the room feels like a post-win locker room, not the middle of some life-altering confession.
I glance at Roman—the smug bastard looks like he expected this. Zeke is smiling, seeming relaxed in a way I haven’t seen before, while I’m just trying to process the fact that we didn’t just set the place on fire—we lit it up, and the team is dancing in the flames right beside us.
“What the hell is happening?” I mutter, but Zeke just grins like he always knew it’d go down this way.
“No fucking clue,” he says, clearly amused.
“Alright, alright—calm your tits,” Roman calls out, trying to cut through the noise, but no one is calming anything, and they’re still grinning like a bunch of idiots.
“Fucking finally, Captain,” Lincoln says, clapping his hands together like it’s Christmas morning. “You really think none of us knew? Come on.”
I blink, convinced I’ve slipped into an alternate universe. “Wait, what?”
“Jasper’s always been the giveaway,” someone else pipes up from the back.
