Page 49 of Tempting the Teammate
I could feel the rush of heat in my face as I stepped away from Griffin. He quickly changed his pants and sat down, busy with the protective gear.
In the space of minutes, the locker room was full, and the regular friendly banter filled the air. Damon was the latest victim of gay jokes, but only because he took it in stride. After Mason had caught on to it, there was little Damon could do that wasn’t interpreted as a little gay. Though not particularly clever or funny, the jokes took the heat off Griffin and me.
Phoenix was beginning to relax. Last night, he’d had another eye-roll moment when he received an email from Jen outlining the idea for his boyfriend, Jaxon, to come around to cheer him on. “Because of course they want my boyfriend and not Erick’s girlfriend.”
Griffin had slapped his shoulder and told him to snap out of it. If he wanted to change the narrative, he had to do something about it. “And if they put Jaxon on-screen, it’ll help his profile, too.”
Jaxon was part of a troupe of ice skaters who performed some incredibly challenging ballets on ice across the tristate area. His latest was the starring role inTheNutcracker, which, aside from giving the guys an endless inspiration for jokes at Phoenix’s expense, was gaining mainstream prominence.
“Get them to interview you both,” Griffin said. “Or propose a deep dive into the team’s past players. I bet they’d love to get achance to slide some big names into the show. Just think about it. Call up Jones and Partridge and have them do a sit-down with Jen’s crew.”
“You’re right,” Phoenix said reluctantly. “But the problem is that they never even thought of it. Instead, they put me front and center as this sole gay guy, like I’m there to meet a quota.”
“Use it,” Griffin said. “Nobody says it’s right, but it’s a chance to have a conversation.”
Later, when Griffin and I were alone and still glowing after forty minutes of privacy behind the “DO NOT ENTER” sign on my door, I mused that we were a little cowardly, too.
“I know,” Griffin said. “Leaving the guy out to dry when we’re banging each other’s brains out in here.”
“But it’s too soon,” I said firmly so that he couldn’t misunderstand my thoughts as a desire to be out and public about our…thing.
We played staged skirmishes today for two solid hours until both the players and the camera crews were exhausted. Toby slipped on the ice ten feet away from the nearest player, doing an accidental spread eagle, his stick flying away, head banging against the ice just hard enough to stop the game. Two cameras raced to him for reactions while Mason hurried across the ice to see if Toby was okay.
“Fuck,” Toby snapped, getting up and trying to get away from the cameras. “There goes my star power.”
Mason laughed it off and clapped his friend on the shoulder, then tossed him his stick.
And so our days came and went. We prepared for the big game in Chicago, and Griffin had already made a shortlist of places we could visit in our time off. Not that it would be our first time. We’d always gone away on our own when we played in other cities. Every time, Griffin would find some weird, niche museum or a really colorful bar.
It was just more difficult this time with the fact that we were being recognized on the streets. It was always the younger girls who called our names, and almost always, the interactions were nice. There were a few moments in the last five or six weeks when I wished I hadn’t taken part in the series. Once, a girl my age relentlessly kept asking if I’d ever seen Griffin naked and wouldn’t believe me when I’d told her that I hadn’t. At that time, it was even true. I would have blushed like crazy if she had asked me now.
Griffin and I joined the team for drinks after the game, and the last two camera crews came along to shoot some moments of camaraderie that seemed to resonate with the viewers. It was a common thing in the middle of each episode to have a bit of friendship and fun.
With all the weeks we’d spent in front of cameras and with those damned microphones taped to our bodies, it was almost starting to feel natural.
We had a round of drinks, ribbing Toby for flattening himself on the ice, then realizing some of the jokes had pushed him a little too close to the edge. When he got up to get another beer, a camera followed him.
Jen asked us if we felt like he was frustrated with us, then followed it up with a question that implied it a little more. It wasn’t ideal, but it was to be expected. Documentaries were so often skirting the line that they were hardly trustworthy, and this thing was as far from a documentary as something could be. It was reality TV, and we all knew it.
We went our separate ways after our glasses emptied. Most guys went back to the house; others went to their dormitories, frats, or apartments, depending on each guy’s situation. Griffin and I decided to take a walk around the campus and eat something on our own.
“You think they’re going to make that more dramatic than it was?” Griffin asked. His voice was as casual as it had always been when he talked to me. It was a soothing, reassuring thing to notice.
I thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. “It’s what will bring the ad money. People love drama.”
“I just hope Toby’s not actually angry with us,” Griffin said.
“He’ll be fine,” I assured him. Toby was someone who had so easily fallen into the banter and communication style of the team that I didn’t worry about him taking it too seriously. He was probably playing it up himself for the views. The whole “rising star” thing wasn’t taking off as much as he’d hoped. I was glad he didn’t begrudge Griffin and me for stealing the spotlight. He probably knew that neither of us had wanted all the attention.
We went into a diner off campus and ordered a bunch of snacks. A woman in her fifties with a hairnet on her head served us when the order was ready, and she cocked her head in a friendly and curious way. “It’s you boys, isn’t it?”
Griffin grinned like he was the king of Hollywood Boulevard. “The hockey ones, yeah.”
“Aw, you’re sweet,” she said. “My son watches the show. Says you boys are the best part of it. Says you’re funny.”
“Funny?” I asked.
“Cute,” she explained. She pushed the tray across the counter. “Don’t let fame get into your head. Breaks relationships like that.” She snapped her fingers and turned her attention to the next customer in line.
