Page 57 of Hooking the Captain
“Look, Kingston?—”
“Baylor.”
“What?”
“You can call me Baylor.”
I smiled, and was put at ease by him telling me to use his first name. “Okay, Baylor. I’m sure you’re wondering, so, yes, I’m gay. No one knows.”
“Cool,” he simply replied.
And that was the end of it. There was no pressing me for details or wondering why I hadn’t said anything to the team or the NHL. It was just “cool” and I needed that.
The rideshare came, and we slid inside. I turned my head, preventing the driver from being able to get a good look at me, and after the short drive, Baylor and I climbed out of the car and stood in the short line to get into the club. It differed from when we went to The Catalyst with the guys after our Friendsgiving and I liked that we weren’t put on display and ushered in celebrity-style.
“Do you come here a lot?” I asked as we waited.
“Nota lota lot, but when I don’t want to be alone, you know?”
“Honestly, not really.”
He arched a brow and stepped closer. “Are you a vir?—”
“No.” I shook my head. “Just could never … be myself, you know?”
“Ah. I understand.”
The line moved fast and soon we entered the club, the throbbing bass and vibrant neon lights welcoming us. I was nervous as I looked around. Some people turned, some eyes widened in surprise and I debated hightailing it out of there.
We made our way to the bar, and both of us stuck with beer since we’d been drinking it at Flanagan’s. “Do you want to dance?” Baylor asked.
I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, summoning the courage to embrace the night. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
We navigated through the crowd to find a spot on the dance floor. The music pulsated through our bodies, and I let myself get lost in the rhythm. Baylor, with infectious enthusiasm, started moving to the beat. I followed suit, allowing the music to drown out my lingering nervousness. I didn’t care if people looked; I was lost in the music and just enjoying myself. Baylor and I exchanged glances, sharing a moment of unspoken understanding. In that lively, colorful space, the bond between us deepened, going past only being teammates.
As the night unfolded, I realized Chrome had become more than just a nightclub to me; it was a place where I could be myself, free from the constraints that accompanied life in the public eye.
I didn’t go home with anyone that night, but the next weekend, I did.
17
COOP
The arena buzzedas we skated onto the ice for our pre-game warm-up. I took a deep breath, feeling the familiar chill in the air. The ice beneath my skates felt crisp and unforgiving—a sensation I thrived on. The arena’s speakers blared with upbeat music, providing the soundtrack to our pre-game routine.
After stretching and loosening up, I grabbed a puck and moved it toward the net where Kingston was doing his own stretches. I shot the puck into the back of the net and took a turn, scanning the crowd as I went. To my surprise, Hayden was behind the glass in the press box with his camera pointed directly at me.
“Hey! Didn’t expect to see you,” I stated through the glass. Even though Hayden was a sports photographer forThe Hub, he hadn’t worked many hockey games since Jonah died. It had been about a year ago when I saw him for the first time. He was in the same spot and I’d skated over like I had now. We’d agreed to get together and catch up and that led to me telling him I was gay.
Damn, a lot had changed in only a year.
“Jack had a family thing, and I offered to cover for him,” Hayden replied, referring to the guy I usually saw behind the glass.
“It’s like déjà vu all over again.” I chuckled.
“Yeah. You wanna grab a drink after the game? Tyler’s working on a deadline and I can spare a few hours.” Tyler also worked atThe Hub, but I wasn’t sure in which department. Didn’t think it was the same as Hayden’s since that would make Hayden his boss.
“Sure. Flanagan’s?”
