Page 122 of The New Guy
“You have a clear head.” I start walking again.
“Not so much,” he says with a sigh. “I have big feelings about you coming out. I’m definitely in the pro column, here. Your dad is against it. Maybe you need more guidance than the people who care about you can give.”
Now I’m smiling, right here on Gold Street. Gavin always has my back. “I appreciate the concern. I really do. You’re trying not to be pushy, while my father doesn’t bother restraining himself. But I can’t switch agents. He’d never speak to me again.”
Half a second later, I realize what I’ve just said to a man whose parents literally don’t speak to him. “Wait. I’m sorry. I don’t mean that literally. But it would be very awkward, and embarrassing to him if his own son fired him.”
Gavin sighs. “Okay. I guess I’ll shut up about this.”
“Don’t ever shut up,” I insist. “I value your opinion more than you could know. But I called to tell you that it doesn’t matter what he thinks. I’m going to come out on the fifteenth just like I said. He won’t like it, but I don’t really care.”
“Wow,” Gavin whispers. “Okay.”
“O’Doul hit me with some hard truths today. I’m watching my life go by, and all I’ve got to show for it are a few million dollars and a lot of sore muscles.”
“To be fair, they are very attractive muscles,” Gavin says.
“You sweet-talker. But I’m not joking. And, yeah, kinda scared to rip the Band-Aid off, but I’m going to do it anyway. I swear.”
“All right. You’re coming over tonight?”
“Of course I am. Wish you didn’t have to go away tomorrow.”
“Me too. But once the season starts up again, I’ll see you every day at work.”
“Yes, you will.” What was I even thinking, listening to my dad? I need to come out so we can get right with the organization. “Dinner tonight is on me. Let’s order something glorious, and split a bottle of wine.”
“Can’t wait,” he says.
And that’s exactly how I feel.
FORTY-TWO
Gavin
Two weeksin New Hampshire with Eddie’s parents is a long time.
If he were still here, even Eddie would agree.
Don’t get me wrong—their new mansion makes for a great vacation. The pool is glorious, and Jordyn and I swim every day. She and I take several hikes in the White Mountains, and Jordyn goes horseback riding with her grandmother. Twice.
In the evenings, we sit on the grandiose patio of their McMansion and dine on lobster rolls and grilled corn and ice cream. Or steak and Caesar salad.
I don’t even have to do dishes, because they have staff for that.
Still, I can’t wait to get back to New York. My inbox is full of training camp schedules and new player files. I can feel the preseason excitement from two hundred miles away.
And I miss Hudson like crazy.
When the sun goes down, I get lonely. I’ve already read four thrillers and a memoir, and listened to hours of podcasts in my room alone.
I’ve even googled job openings. While I believe that the team might accommodate my relationship with Hudson, I need a backup plan. He doesn’t want me to leave my job, and it would be hard work finding a new one.
I will if I have to, though. I’m employable, and a job is a job. But there’s only one Hudson. I honestly never expected to risk my heart again. It’s terrifying. But it’s worth it.
On the last night in New Hampshire, I close all my job-hunting tabs and open up our secret messaging app. That app probably has a big boner just from all the horny texts we’ve sent each other late at night.
Sex, and hockey gossip. Those are our only two topics. One of his teammates—another defenseman—got traded a few days ago. That’s a bummer, of course. But it seemed to relax Hudson. As if he’d dodged a bullet.
