Chapter Eleven
Obviously Eric shouldn’t have kissed Kyle. Not that it hadn’t been nice.
Nice. Jesus, it had been earth shaking. It had been...affirming. He hadn’t been kissed in over a year, and he’d never been kissed like that. He hadn’t been able to stop smiling or touching his own lips for the entire cab ride home.
But just because it had been a hell of a kiss it didn’t mean— Ow!
Eric shook his blocker off and then removed his mask. “Hey, you want to fuck off with those head shots?” he yelled to everyone on the ice at once.
“That fucking hurt.”
“Sorry, Benny,” Matti said, skating up to him with a concerned expression. “That one got away from me.”
Eric sighed as he rubbed his forehead. In truth, he should have been paying closer attention. He hated how distracted he’d been all practice.
“Just be careful,” he grumbled as he put his mask back on.
He was exhausted. Not only had he stayed out later than usual last night, he’d also been completely unable to sleep after he’d gotten home. His body had buzzed with adrenaline after that kiss. His mind had raced with the possibilities of what Kyle had so casually offered him.
No strings attached.
Eric knew that was a thing. Friends with benefits, or whatever. He’d just never had that before and he wasn’t sure he could have that. He might not be built that way.
But he also couldn’t ask Kyle for more. Sex with an older man was one thing, a relationship with someone fifteen years older than you was another.
So last night he’d convinced himself that he would not take Kyle up on his generous offer. Then he’d gotten himself off in his usual, efficient manner.
Even that relief hadn’t been enough to lull him to sleep, though, and he’d been left tossing and turning for hours.
Eric needed to focus. His team was fourth in their division and they were heading out on a road trip tomorrow morning against some tough opponents. His personal goals against average was far from his best, but it
wasn’t abysmal either. He was still on track to finish this season—finish his career—with dignity.
He’d like to keep some dignity in his personal life too. Dating a much younger man would pretty much make him a walking midlife crisis, and Eric really didn’t want that kind of attention. He couldn’t stomach the idea of being a recently divorced man rebounding with a pretty young thing. And then there was the fact that Kyle was a man.
Coach Murdock blew his whistle. “Let’s bring those nets in. Farmer, Woody,” he barked at two of the rookies. “Grab a net. Push them to the edges of the circle here.” He pointed his stick at the circle in the corner to Eric’s left.
Eric skated over to Carter, just to get out of Woody’s way. Carter fist- bumped Eric’s blocker and said, “Tiny rink!”
“You love tiny rink.”
“Because I’m the best at it.”
Eric snatched a puck with his goalie stick and started batting it back and forth on the ice. “I’ve been shit this practice.”
“Did someone keep you up last night?”
The puck got away from Eric. “No,” he lied.
“In the locker room you looked a little...” Carter waved a hand around in a manner that suggested absolutely nothing Eric could decipher. “Dreamy.”
“You’re making shit up.”
Carter pointed at his own eyes. “These don’t lie.”
“Apparently they do because—”
“Okay, gentlemen,” Coach bellowed. “Get to the circle. One goalie in each net, and we’re doing one-on-one drills until I tell you to stop.”
Eric skated off to the far net. When he passed Tommy, he nudged him
and said, “Give ’em hell.”
“You know it.”
The players gathered to one side of the circle, and Coach sent two players in to battle each other for the puck and to try to take shots on one of the nets. Eric usually enjoyed these drills, but the small ice surface meant he could never relax. He had to stay focused on the action because it never moved more than a few meters away from him. Today it felt exhausting.
Eric didn’t like being scored on during practice any more than he liked it during games. But his ability to stop pucks was far more dependent on his
mental state than his physical state, and today his mental state was a shitshow. Even the rookies were scoring on him.
When the drill was finally over, the goalie coach, Quinn Cameron, gestured Eric over to the bench. “What’s going on, Eric?”
Eric flipped his mask up. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Explains why you look like shit.” Quinn studied him, frowning. “Not
sleeping. That’s not like you.”
“I know.”
“Is that all it is?”
Eric shrugged one massive, padded shoulder. “I think so.”
“How’s your head? That shot from Matti looked like it stung.”
“It wasn’t that bad. I’m just cranky today.”
Quinn smirked. “Comes with getting older.”
“Yeah yeah.”
Quinn only had ten years on Eric, but he looked much older. He walked with a noticeable limp thanks to a slap shot that had shattered his ankle when he’d played in the NHL himself. He’d had a hip replacement when he was about Eric’s age, and, thanks to years of taking shots to the head like the one Eric had just downplayed, he was prone to dizzy spells. Eric had had his share of injuries himself over the years; his left shoulder was a frequent source of grief but had been relatively fine since the last operation he’d had. He did as much as he could off the ice to balance the punishment his body endured on the ice. He was teased by his teammates for being a health nut, but Eric didn’t want to end up like Quinn. If yoga, sleep, and eating clean even gave him a chance of avoiding that, he would keep it up.
This was the fourth practice in a row that Eric had planned to tell his coaches that he would be retiring after this season. It would be so easy to ask Quinn, right now, to assemble the coaches so Eric could tell them. But he couldn’t bring himself to form the words. The truth was, he was scared.
Once he announced it, it would be real. No matter how sure he was in his heart that this was the right decision, he wasn’t ready for it to be real.
His brain was so cluttered today. His fear of walking away from hockey warred with his fear of his desire for Kyle. These thoughts swirled with the stress of his poor performance in today’s practice, the exhilaration of finally exploring his sexuality, and the terrifying uncertainty his future held.
He really needed a nap.
He decided, after he’d showered and dressed, to walk from the arena to his house. He hoped the fresh air and the additional exercise would help to clear his head. As he walked, he tried to think reasonably about what Kyle had suggested. He unpacked the facts and laid them out neatly in his mind.
The first was that he liked Kyle, was attracted to him, and it seemed that the attraction was mutual. The second fact was that Kyle seemed to have a very uncomplicated relationship with sex and had offered to have sex with Eric. The third fact was that Eric was nervous about having sex with a man.
Or with anyone, really. It had only been Holly since he’d been a teenager, and it hadn’t been very often during their last few years together. The fourth fact was he couldn’t really imagine hooking up with a stranger. It just didn’t appeal to him. In fact, it kind of repulsed him.
Fact number five: the idea of sex with Kyle did not repulse him. At all.
Eric sorted through these facts for his entire walk home. He examined each one, shuffling them around like cards and hoping a clear course of action would appear. The thing he kept getting stuck on was that he wasn’t sure what it meant, that he wanted to have sex with Kyle. He knew it was a simple logic problem: Eric Bennett only likes having sex with people he has feelings for. Eric Bennett wants to have sex with Kyle. Therefore...
And that right there was why he couldn’t have sex with Kyle.
Unless he could.
Fucking hell.
When Eric got home, he ran straight up to his room and collapsed on his
bed. It was so soft and wonderful.
And lonely.
Eventually, when he felt like moving again, he slipped out of his clothes and settled himself under the blankets. When he closed his eyes he remembered every detail of kissing Kyle last night. The heat of Kyle’s tongue, and the cool press of his fingers where they’d touched Eric’s jaw.
The sweet way he’d laughed when Eric had greedily leaned in for more.
Eric blushed. Was Kyle thinking about that kiss as much as he was?
Probably not.
His skin felt hot everywhere, and he kicked off the blankets. Normally, jerking off was not a daily event for him, but his hand found its way to his cock and started his usual routine of quick, hard pumps. He came quickly, as always, catching his release in his hand.
As he was washing up in the bathroom a few minutes later, he wondered what it might be like for sex to be something that he wasn’t just trying to get over with. For sexual release to not merely be maintenance he provided to his body, like getting a massage, or stretching. He’d never been adventurous in bed, and he’d never deliberately drawn out his jerk-off sessions. He focused on achieving orgasm, and the way his body responded to the release of tension.
He had no doubts that Kyle could teach him exactly how good sex could feel. His imagination had been shocking him lately with detailed fantasies of Kyle teasing and slowly drawing orgasms out of him. That morning, when he’d been making breakfast, he’d become thoroughly distracted by a daydream that was so vivid he could practically feel Kyle’s caresses. And that was after the memories of last night’s kiss had compelled him to bring himself off in the shower. He’d imagined filthy, coaxing words in Kyle’s light, playful voice as he’d stroked himself, then gasped Kyle’s name as Eric’s release splattered his dark shower tile.
He wanted it to be real. All of it. He wanted Kyle to remove his anxiety about being intimate with a man, and he wanted to reward Kyle for his efforts. He wanted to be good at pleasuring a man. At pleasuring Kyle.
And he wanted to stop thinking about this. He was losing control of himself and he hated that feeling. Maybe the only way to extinguish the thoughts was by doing something about them. And what Kyle had offered him wasn’t a hookup, and it wasn’t a relationship. It was instruction, and patience, and it might be exactly what Eric needed.
He wished he had someone else he could talk to about this. He rarely sought a second opinion on anything, but on this particular matter he could use some advice.
Scott, of course, was the obvious choice. He had never been one to talk about sex—in fact, Scott tended to blush and stammer at the very mention of it—but he certainly knew about finding the courage to be your true self.
He knew how important this would be to Eric.
And it was well past time Eric came out to his best friend.
Eric knocked on Scott’s hotel room door. He could hear him talking to someone, and thought about leaving, but the door opened before he could
retreat. Scott smiled when he saw him, then held the door wide open with the hand that wasn’t holding his phone to his ear.
“It’s Benny,” Scott said to his phone as Eric brushed past him into the
room. Then, to Eric, “Kip says hi.”
“Hi, Kip.”
At least they weren’t having phone sex. Carter had once stolen one of Scott’s room keys in an attempt to prank him. When he’d opened the door, thinking Scott was out, he’d gotten an eyeful. Whenever Carter told the story, he looked haunted.
Scott ended the call after three I love yous, then turned to Eric, his eyes bright and his cheeks touched with pink. He really was absurdly handsome.
“What’s up?” Scott asked.
Scott’s expression turned serious when Eric sat on the bed. He wheeled a desk chair over and sat facing him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just, um...there’s just something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
Scott’s brow furrowed. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Eric took a breath. This was his moment. It shouldn’t be hard to come out as bisexual to your openly gay best friend, but. Well.
“I just wanted to tell you...” Eric huffed and shook his head. “It’s not even a big deal. I don’t know why I’m—”
“Eric.” Scott placed a hand on Eric’s wrist. He hardly ever called Eric by his first name. He didn’t say anything else, just calmly waited for Eric to be ready to speak.
Eric remembered when Scott had come out to him. It had been in a hotel room like this one, but Carter and their former teammate, Greg Huff, had also been there. Eric had thought about inviting Carter this time, but he decided this was less about Eric coming out to his friends, and more about getting advice from Scott, specifically. He would tell Carter soon.
How had Scott managed to say the words at the time? Eric felt like they were lodged in his throat, thick and impossible to budge. He took a slow breath, jiggled the words loose, and said, “I’m not...straight.”
Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re gay?”
“No. I’m bisexual, I guess. I’ve always assumed that’s what I am, anyway.”
“Always?” Scott looked gobsmacked, and Eric didn’t blame him. If Eric had known all this time that he was bisexual, why had he waited so long to
tell Scott? Why had he let Scott break down that wall alone?
“I knew,” Eric said carefully, “but I wouldn’t acknowledge it. I’ve always known.”
Scott clasped his hands together and looked at the floor. Eric felt like shit.
He’d been such a coward.
Then Scott looked up. His eyes were glistening and he was smiling. It
was confusing.
“Scott?”
“Jesus, Benny. Come here.” Scott stood and opened his arms. Eric, still bewildered, stood and stepped into them. Scott wrapped him in a tight hug that Eric tried to reciprocate, but his arms were mostly pinned to his sides.
He tapped the sides of Scott’s waist with his fingertips in what he hoped was a show of affection.
When Scott pulled back, he was beaming, and his eyes were still wet.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“I just...needed to say it, you know?”
“Oh, believe me, I know.” Scott scrubbed a hand over his face. “Have you told anyone else? Wait.” His eyes went wide. “Are you seeing someone?”
“No,” Eric said quickly. “I mean, yes. I’ve told one other person. But, no.
Not because I’m dating him. Or anyone. I’m not dating anyone.”
Scott looked disappointed, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. I got a little excited there. So you have told someone else?”
Eric sat back on the bed. For some reason the idea of telling Scott that he had confided in Kyle felt more terrifying than announcing his sexuality. So instead, he asked, “When you and Kip...” He paused, unsure how to phrase this. “Was Kip the first man you’d...”
God, why was this so hard? They were both adults.
But Scott, predictably, blushed when he realized what Eric was asking.
“No, um. He wasn’t my first.” He smiled shyly. “I wish he had been, but there were a few quick hookups before him. Why?”
Eric traced a fingertip over the hotel comforter. “I’ve been thinking that I’d like to try it. Being with a man, I mean.” Scott’s eyes went wide, and Eric realized suddenly how this might be misinterpreted. “Not with you!
That’s not why I’m here.”
Scott let out a shaky laugh. “Oh. Good. Jesus, I was nervous there for a second.”
Eric shook his head. “With someone else, I promise.”
“The person you came out to already, maybe?”
Eric averted his gaze, realizing too late that Scott would interpret it as the yes that it was. He had only planned to tell Scott that he was bisexual, and maybe ask some vague questions about dating men. But now, with Scott grinning at him expectantly, Eric decided he wanted to share at least part of this with his best friend. “It’s going to sound weird, but I actually told Kyle.”
“Kyle? Like, Kyle who we wanted you to be friends with?”
“Yes.”
“Kyle who I said you’d get along really well with?”
“The same. Congratulations.”
Scott fist pumped, and Eric bit his lip to keep from smiling.
“Are you guys, like... I mean, did you, um...” Scott stammered.
“We are friends. He’s half my age.”
“He’s not half your age, for fuck’s sake. But, yes. He’s young.”
“Too young for me,” Eric said. If he said it enough times, maybe his brain would start to listen. “But he’s been helping me navigate this thing.”
Scott’s expression turned thoughtful and he said, “He’d be good at that.
The last two years haven’t been easy on Kip, and Kyle’s been a good friend to him.”
“Haven’t been easy?” Eric asked. As far as he could tell, Kip had found Prince Charming and was going to ride into the sunset with him.
“He’s suddenly in the spotlight. I know he’s happy with me, but the rest hasn’t been easy. He’s lost friends, and had to deal with being one half of a very public couple. We get tons of support, and that’s awesome, but we also get...the other stuff.”
Eric knew this, of course. He’d seen the comments posted at the end of articles online, and he’d heard the ignorant things yelled from the crowds when the team was on the road. Hell, he’d heard them yelled by people—he refused to call them fans—at their home games in New York. It always infuriated him. Oddly, he realized now, he had only ever felt outrage on Scott’s behalf when he’d heard the slurs. Never for himself.
“I’m sorry,” he said, now.
Scott waved a hand. “I spent my whole life worried about what they
think. I’m done.”
Eric smiled at that.
“So,” Scott said. “You’re getting yourself out there, then? Dating?”
“I mean, not yet. But I’d like to.”
“Men, huh?”
“Maybe. I’m curious I guess.” Eric scoffed. “That sounds so cliché.”
“It’s exciting is what it is! You should come out with us sometime.
There’s a fundraiser at a club next week that we’re helping out at. It’s a drag show—a Christmas thing—and there will be dancing after, of course. I’m going to be on stage for part of the show, so you can at least watch me being roasted by some drag queens.”
“That is very tempting.” It actually did sound ideal. It would be low pressure, because Eric could just be there to support his friend. And he could leave before the dancing started. Maybe this could be the night out Kyle had suggested. He would like it if Kyle was there. For support.
“Seriously,” Scott said gently as he sat back in the chair in front of Eric, “it would be great to have you there. And I’m glad Kyle is advising you on the actual, um, dating side of things. Honestly, I am terrible with that stuff.”
“He’s very enthusiastic,” Eric said. He bit his cheek to suppress a smile he was sure would give away the fact that Kyle had offered to have sex with him.
Scott beamed. “I can’t believe I’ve had a queer teammate this whole time!”
The words were said cheerfully, but Eric couldn’t stop the guilt from creeping in again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, and that I wasn’t brave enough to come out when you did. I should have been standing beside you.”
“You were,” Scott said simply. “You’ve been supporting me since the moment I came out to you. And after I went public, you’ve always been right there with me: going to LGBTQ events, going to the Kingfisher with me. You think I don’t know how much you hate going to bars?”
That made Eric smile. “I like the Kingfisher.”
“Me too. And it’s always nice having teammates join me there. Hell, it was nice having Rozanov there.”
“Why was Rozanov there, anyway? I never really figured it out.”
“Oh, he wanted to talk to me about his charity. You know, the one he started with Shane Hollander?”
“I still can’t believe that’s a real thing, but yes.”
“They have these summer hockey camps and he asked if I might like to be a coach at one.” Scott laughed. “I could tell it killed him to ask me.”
“Why you? I mean, I know why someone would want you to be a coach at a hockey camp, but why would Rozanov want you there?”
“I’m not sure, exactly. But he mentioned that the camps are inclusive. He actually used the words safe space, which almost knocked me off my chair.
How many hockey players do you know who use that term?”
“You mean in a non-mocking way? Very few.”
“Right. So they want the staff to be diverse. I wouldn’t even be the only gay guy, because they have Ryan Price helping out.”
“I keep forgetting he’s gay.”
“I heard he has a great boyfriend. A musician. I’m happy for him.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“And Hollander is coaching too, of course,” Scott continued, then laughed. “So Rozanov might be the only straight instructor. I mean, possibly straight. I don’t actually know.”
Eric nodded, then realized what Scott had just said. “Wait. Shane Hollander isn’t straight?”
Scott stared at him. “He’s gay. You didn’t know that?”
“Did he come out? Why isn’t everyone talking about that?” Eric was never one for gossip, and was usually the last to know everything, but this seemed like something that Scott would have mentioned to him.
“He came out to his friends and teammates a year or so ago. And he reached out to me, which was nice. But I thought most of the league knew by now. He doesn’t mind people knowing, but he doesn’t want to come out in a big public way.”
“You mean he doesn’t want to kiss his boyfriend on live television after winning the Stanley Cup?” Eric teased.
Scott flushed. “Exactly. Anyway, I told Rozanov I’d like to help, but this summer will be busy with the wedding and the honeymoon, and the other
obligations I already have.”
“Maybe next year.”
“That’s what I said. I’m sure Kip would enjoy a week or two in Montreal.
That’s where one of the camps is.”
“It seems like a good charity,” Eric said. “I was reading that they already provided the funds for a huge renovation of a youth home in Montreal.”
“It’s impressive,” Scott agreed. “I’ve been thinking about starting my own charity, but maybe I should talk to Rozanov and Hollander about joining forces with them.”
Rozanov and Hollander. The two rivals’ names still sounded weird next to each other. “Who knew Rozanov had such a big heart?” Eric said.
Scott smiled. “I had a hunch. I think he might secretly be a big softy.”
“He does a damn good job of hiding it.”
“He sure does. Anyway, why are we talking about Ilya Rozanov? I’d rather talk about you.”
Eric held up a hand. “No thanks. I said everything I need to.”
Scott glanced at the clock on his nightstand. “I guess it’s getting late. And I’ll be damned if I’m not in top form against Toronto tomorrow night.”
“Yeah. But thanks, for listening to me.” Eric huffed. “Sorry if it was a shock.”
“Are you kidding? I’m thrilled.” Scott pulled him into one of his signature hugs. “Your secret is safe with me. I promise.”
Eric sighed against his shoulder. He’d miss these hugs after he retired. “I know. But I don’t know if it needs to be a secret. I might take the Shane Hollander route on this. If people find out, they find out. But I’m not going
to make a big public announcement.”
“That’s fair.”
They broke apart, and Eric ran a hand through his own hair, needing to make one more request of Scott and not sure of how to say it. “Hey, um, could you maybe not tell Kip? About Kyle, I mean. Not that there’s anything to tell, really, but still.”
Scott mimed pulling a zipper across his lips. “I won’t say a word. But
Benny?”
“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I think he’d be good for you. Even if it’s just for...”
Scott palmed the back of his own neck nervously. “Instruction. Or whatever.”
Eric felt his own cheeks heat up. “Got it.”
Scott squeezed Eric’s shoulder and said, “I’m proud of you, Benny.”
“Thanks.”
Eric left Scott’s room feeling a million pounds lighter.