22. EASTON

TWENTY-TWO

EASTON

Training camp turns into preseason, and any spare time Knox and I have is spent together. Which isn't much. So even though things are great when we actually spend time with one another, it's not like we've had a chance to see if we work as a couple. Or could work.

Connor is still mopey, but I'm not going to lie, I prefer mopey over him being an overbearing asshole. That probably makes me a bad person because I'd rather my brother be upset than doing what was ingrained in him to do since I can remember, but it's time we all grow up. And by "we all," I really mean him. Because I'm perfect.

Okay, even my conscience is laughing at that.

I'm so mature that it took me years to stand up for myself with my big brother.

I should've done it sooner. I'm not saying if I had that Knox and I would've had this chance. It might have even ensured we'd never admit our feelings to one another, but I no longer feel like Connor's breathing down my neck or putting pressure on me to the point I question every decision I make. No more worrying about whether it would be good for the team, the franchise, or "my brand. "

The trade rumors swirl every day, both here at our practice rink and online. There was an article the other day saying I had a meeting with team management, which I did, confirming a trade, which they didn't. They asked if I was willing to go to San Jose as they had interest in me, but I said no. It's obvious Colorado doesn't want to lose me, and a huge part of me now wishes I could take back my trade request completely, but at the same time, if I could get on a team—any team—in the same vicinity as a PWHL team, there's a chance of seeing Knox throughout their season.

Minnesota would be ideal because he's based there for half the year, but just like NHL refs, he has to travel for games and is practically always on the road, so no matter where I am, I'll probably see him the same amount of time.

It probably sounds like I'm rearranging my life based on how close I can be to Knox, but with where we are, in this new part of our … I want to say relationship but not jinx it, it's important that we actually get time together.

It's not that I want to run off and marry him or follow him everywhere, but I want a real shot, and to get that, I have to be able to see him occasionally.

Long distance is hard on the most solid couples. Being in the NHL, no matter what, it's going to feel like a long-distance relationship because we're always on the road. With him reffing, it'll be next to impossible if we never crossed paths.

So Minnesota, Ottawa, Toronto, Montreal, Boston, or New York. They're the teams I'm waiting for. Though, Boston will be out because they always make the playoffs and won't have a bargaining first-round draft pick with a high enough draft position for Colorado to trade me. Plus, if I joined another team with a member of the Queer Collective, Ezra will kill me for not spreading the gay around the whole NHL. And considering he plays for Boston, that would mean a lot of hazing in my future. New York is similar in the standings to Boston, so I really don't see either as a team who will have something to trade for me.

Montreal won the Cup last year, so they're out. Which means it comes down to Toronto, Ottawa, or Minnesota.

Or maybe Colorado isn't willing to let me go after all, and now that Connor and I aren't attacking each other on the ice—we're barely speaking at work—they're okay with letting us be.

I don't get the freedom that I'm after, but I'm also not as desperate as I was a few weeks ago to get out of here.

We have our first preseason game tonight, so we had a morning skate here at the practice rink before we head into the city for the game, but as we all shower the stench off us and change into our civilian clothes—don't need to wear a suit until the game—Coach Macklin and Serge Galecki enter the locker room and ask us all to hang back.

I wait for them to start some bullshit pep talk, telling the newbies not to sweat the first game tonight, but that's not what they say. They're out here throwing a curveball. And yes, I'm mixing sports analogies, but this is a weird time for an announcement no one was expecting.

I had to have misheard.

But nope. They really are introducing the new owner of the team.

"Everyone, this is Parker Duchene."

Wait, I know that name. Where do I know?—

"Oh, fuck," Connor whispers and ducks his head.

That's when I remember.

"High school," I say.

He was in Connor's grade. Nerdy. Used to be called Douche because of his name, not because he was one. From what I remember, being a couple of grades below him, he didn't have many friends. Super smart though. Valedictorian at graduation and all that.

Parker doesn't look like that same nerd that used to wander the halls of Colorado Springs High .

He's still scrawny, but he grew into his teeth—or he got them fixed. Probably the latter. Puberty testosterone must've kicked in sometime after graduation because he has the look of a permanent five-o'clock shadow, a full head of dark hair, and these piercing bright blue eyes.

His clothing doesn't exactly give the impression he's some billionaire now, but how would someone who's mid-twenties be able to afford to buy an NHL franchise outright? Were we even for sale?

"Hi, everyone. I just wanted to introduce myself to you all before your first game tonight. Ever since I was a kid, I've loved hockey, and I grew up about half an hour away from this very arena. It's surreal for me to be here, but when I sold my software company for twenty billion, I knew what I wanted to do with that money. I can't wait to see what you can do this year, so good luck tonight."

We're all stunned. These things are usually leaked long before it gets to this point. There are so many hoops owners have to jump through. No one is blindsided by a sale of a team. A change of location. An expansion.

This is …

I glance at Connor out of the corner of my eye, and he's looking back at me. "Do we go say hi?"

My brother looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here. "I-I guess so."

It occurs to me that with Parker being in Connor's grade, they probably know each other better than I know of this guy, but if he was so unpopular that even I knew of him? I have to wonder if Connor was one of those popular kids who used to tease him. Connor was a god in high school. I was known as Connor's little brother. He ran the school. He had all the hot girlfriends that he went through faster than his underwear. He was the quintessential jock, and Parker was the quintessential nerd.

This could be a real shitshow .

All those years of Connor going on and on and on about public image and behaving myself, and he comes face-to-face with someone he most likely mercilessly tormented throughout high school. Who now owns him. Quite literally.

The rest of our teammates go back to their cubbies to collect their belongings so they can go spend a few hours with their family or have downtime to get their heads in the game for tonight, so Connor and I are the only two to approach the new owner and our GM.

Coach has already gone.

Parker and Galecki turn to us as we reach them, but they're both silent.

So is Connor. His mouth opens as if to make noise, but nothing comes out.

"Hi." I hold out my hand to Parker. "I'm Easton Kikishkin."

He shakes my hand politely.

"Hey," Connor squeaks. "Good to see you again, Parker."

Parker cocks his head. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

It takes all my strength not to laugh at Connor's wide eyes. Still, he manages to shake Parker's hand.

"If you don't mind, I'd prefer my players to call me Mr. Duchene."

Colorado's new owner is cold and able to put my brother in his place. If I weren't so invested in Knox, I might have just fallen in love at first sight.