CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

N oah

I thought Finn and I were playing well, but Coach Holberg has brought us to see the owner as if we're misbehaving students who need to see the principal.

My heartbeat quickens, and I step closer to Finn.

"You have become famous, boys," Tanaka says.

"Noah is new to Boston," Finn explains. "I've been showing him around."

"He must be an expert now." Tanaka scrolls down a website. "It seems you've been everywhere."

"I try to be thorough." Finn's voice wavers.

Tanaka narrows his gaze. "Have a seat."

Finn and I sit down abruptly, and Tanaka's lips curl.

"You've provided a lot of publicity for the Blizzards."

"Is that a problem?" Finn asks carefully.

"We would like to monetize it better," Tanaka says. "We want you to represent the Blizzards."

"Really?" Finn's jaw drops. "But doesn't Evan always do that?"

"Yes. But for some reason Evan wants his privacy." Tanaka's eyes dance. "It's his preference. I think we all know the reason why, even though no official press conferences have been held."

"Yes," Finn says.

"Perhaps ironically, we have found that you are the most recognizable people in the team. Obviously, we would like to work with you."

"You don't mind that, um..." Finn glances at me, then his voice trails off.

"That you're gay?" Tanaka asks.

Finn flinches, and I realize that's not a word he associates himself with. Unlike me, Finn did really seem to like women.

Tanaka is already leaning back in his chair. "We pride ourselves on being modern. We welcome diversity. We want gay children to grow up knowing they can play hockey. Gone is the time when we sent for straight white Canadians to play."

"I suppose that is virtuous," Finn says slowly.

"Of course, it's virtuous." Tanaka's tone is stern. "The PR team will set you up with some meetings with charities and photoshoots."

Finn nods. "We want to be helpful."

"We will show the world that the Blizzards is a kind and great organization. "

"With the best hockey in the country," Finn says.

Tanaka's eyes gleam. "Yes. But even if you don't play great hockey, everyone will know this is a good team to support. We will expand our tickets from hockey players to—"

"Readers of gossip magazines?" Finn suggests.

Tanaka frowns. "This is a good opportunity for you both. Not every team owner would be as kind as I have been."

Finn appears chastised. "You're right, sir. Thank you."

Tanaka gives a bright beam, as if he hadn't appeared stern and solemn, like a teacher of a particularly challenging subject at school.

Finn and I exit the room.

"That was unexpected," Finn says.

"Is there a problem?" I ask carefully.

He shrugs. "More exposure for us. It's good, it just comes with..."

Risk.

He doesn't say the word, but it still thunders through me.

Finn and I are together now because we want to convince the world that we did not marry by accident. But do we want the world to scrutinize us more? Because what if they discover the truth?

An uneasiness I wasn't experiencing slithers through me, and my movements are more uncertain as I follow Finn toward the PR department.

It will be fine. How high profile do they want us to be? We've already given interviews to major sports and LGBTQ magazines .

We stand in front of the PR department door, then I knock.

"Come in." Daniela's voice sails toward us, and when we enter, she gives us a big smile. "I see Tanaka talked with you."

"Yes."

"Are you ready to go on TV?"

Finn's eyes round, and he turns to look at me.

"TV?" I ask.

Daniela beams. "You two are going national. You're going on the Belinda Show," Daniela says.

"Seriously?"

"No one jokes about the Belinda Show."

"My mother watches that!"

"As does mine."

Finn puts his hand over mine. "Then we'll make sure to do a great job for them."

My mind whirls as Daniela explains the next steps, then we head back to the exercise room.

"This is a big deal," I tell Finn.

"Face it. We're a big deal."

I smile down at him, and he smiles up at me, and suddenly we are caught in one of those heated stares.

Finn scrunches his lips in an adorable manner, and I wonder if I can kiss him. I want to kiss him. Finn's lips swerve up, and his eyes have a mischievous look. He looks both ways, then drags me into a massage room.

NOAH

The door clicks behind me, and I stare at the large massage table, the rows of battery powered candles, the still smoking incense stick.

"Why are we in here?" I ask.

"Because, my sweet puck, Fernando takes his lunch break now."

"He does?" My heartbeat quickens. Maybe Finn will kiss me.

He stalks toward me, smirk firmly in place. "I happen to know he has a hot date. I don't expect him to rush back."

"How do you know that?" My eyes soften. "You had a massage today. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

I nod, but fine means something else for athletes. Fine means aching with pain, covered in bruises. Fine means you only sometimes remember the operations you had. Fine is not good enough for Finn.

"I can massage you later tonight," I promise.

"Okay." He grins. "If that means I can massage you right now."

"You want..." My eyes widen, and my heartbeat quickens. I glance at the massage table, glance at the locked door. "I don't think that's proper."

"Nope." Finn leans closer to me, and his voice drops. "We'll also have to keep it a secret from your second-grade teacher. "

"We might have to write "I'm sorry" ten times."

"Silly Noah. With what I want to do with you, we might have to write it a thousand times." Finn lifts me onto the massage table, then climbs on after me. I spread my legs, and he moves in between them. My cock rises to meet his, and he grins when he feels it.

"My sweet puck," he drawls, his eyes dancing.

"You need to come up with a better name for me."

"Not when this one is so perfect." Finn slides down my sweatpants, then moves his own down.

"People are outside," I whisper.

"Then you better be quiet, My Stiff Stick."

I roll my eyes, because of course I'll be quiet. No way would I not be quiet when people might overhear us.

Then his lips fall on mine, and I remember this might be more difficult than I think. When his cock presses against mine, I'm truly in trouble. My nerve endings zing, and it so doesn't help when Finn uses his hand to jerk us off. Pre-cum spills from us both easily, merging and gliding down our shafts. Finn's hand speeds, and I watch our cocks disappearing and appearing with his steady strokes.

This is so hot.

God, how did I ever think I was straight? Breasts have never had the same fascination for me. But this... I could watch Finn do this all day.

Except I'm going to come now.

My breath quickens, and Finn smirks.

"Quiet, sweetheart." He stares into my eyes. I've never noticed how beautiful his own eyes are. I wonder if I'm supposed to praise him for choosing a different nickname or tease him and tell this one is just as over the top... but I don't. I can't.

Because when Finn looks at me like that, he has my heart. And maybe that's not something I'm supposed to give him or something he wants.

Because all of this comes with an expiration date.

We shouldn't be risking this. We might get caught. This is our workplace.

The massage table wobbles beneath us, and I hope we don't come crashing down, because who knows how those injuries could be explained to the public.

"Come, baby," Finn says.

My heart patters, and the whole world consists of his eyes, his succulent lips, and his hand.

And so I come.

I shoot into Finn's hand, and in the next moment, Finn's cock is also shooting. I crane my neck as thick white melds together.

Then Finn is kissing me again, then searching for a tissue, then cleaning us both up.

"That was a risky," I try to say sternly once we exit the massage room and hope that the AC will waft away our scents before Fernando returns.

"It was a stressful day," Finn says, and my heart sinks, because this whole thing must be super stressful for him.

Everyone he's ever met will see pictures, videos of us together. Will they all think he was lying about his sexuality? Or will they simply think him clueless? Will they wonder how he ended up married to the man who fell straight after he skated onto the ice in his first NHL game?

I'm not sure, and he probably isn't either.

We go to the exercise room, because we need to work up some sweat before we can justify a shower. I lift, he spots. We both count together.

Footsteps sound behind us, then Troy appears. "I swear to God, how can you make lifting look romantic?"

Heat sweeps over my cheeks, but I notice another person looking at us... Vinnie.

I haven't talked with him since that debacle in Vegas, when he accused Finn and me—well, mostly me, of being homophobic.

Occasionally he looks at us in bewilderment.

I get it. I didn't think I would be married to Finn either. I certainly didn't think he would throw himself into the physical side of a marriage with such vigor.

Then again, he would be the first to say that he had a long history of hookups, and he is too caring to risk my reputation by hooking up now. It's only natural for him to seek me out when he feels stressed, which is probably more and more often.

I shouldn't dream about impossible things, and I shouldn't let my mind wander and imagine a future that it is not fair to ask of him.

I'm almost relieved when Coach calls me away, until it occurs to me that maybe he found out what happened in the massage room.

"How, um, can I help you?" I ask him.

"I'm going to try you on the second line," Coach Holberg says.

"Me? "

"You've come a long way," he says. "We want you to be on the ice more."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Thank you." I nod a few times, then leave his office before he can make comments about marionette dolls are something similarly unathletic.

Then I hurry to Finn to tell him the good news.