8. Wes

Wes

“No one knows? Really?” Kristine/Kai gapes at me in our quiet nook in the corner of the ballroom. After nearly an hour on the dance floor, we finally decided to take a breather and now we’re rehydrating. Or rather, dehydrating, because my scotch and her cosmo ain’t exactly helping our daily water intake.

“No one,” I confirm.

She shakes her head in disbelief, and her mane of dark curls falls over one bare shoulder. “Not a single one of your teammates?”

“Nope.”

“But everyone on your college team totally knew you were gay.” She lowers her voice at the last word, her gaze flitting around to make sure nobody can overhear us.

“That was college,” I say quietly. “The NHL is a whole different ball game, baby.”

“Puck game, you mean.”

I grin. “Puck game,” I echo.

Kai takes a sip of her drink. “That sucks, Ryan.” She sounds dismayed now. “Do you really think it would be a big deal if it came out?”

“The media would be all over it, hon. You know that.”

She makes a disgusted sound. “Well, that’s fucking ridiculous. Gay marriage is legal now. It’s been legal in Canada for ages. Why are there still so many bigoted jerks in this world? And why aren’t we shipping them all to Antarctica?”

A chuckle pops out. “Because we’re nicer than they are.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be. Maybe we should judge and persecute them right back so they know what it feels like.”

I appreciate her support and sweet show of solidarity, but truth is, she has no idea what it feels like. Jamie is the only one I can share the frustration with, because he’s the only one who’s truly in this with me. And even then, we don’t talk about it often, because it just depresses the shit out of us both.

“What are you two whispering about here in the corner?” Blake appears with a tumbler in hand and his trademark grin. His green eyes do a slow sweep of Kai’s barely clad body before shifting over to me. “And why haven’t you introduced me to this goddess, Wesley? I thought we were buds.”

As Kai blushes prettily, I quickly introduce the two of them, and the three of us spend the next few minutes chatting until she excuses herself to use the ladies room. The moment Blake and I are alone, he gives me an exaggerated wink. “So.”

“So,” I echo.

“Nice job, Wesley. Though I’m kinda bummed you beat me to her. She’s smokin’. That sweet mouth... Cheezus. I can think of a few places to put it.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“Can you, though? You two look pretty cozy. I’m jelly.”

A prickle of paranoia creeps up my spine, and I choose my words carefully, because Blake worded that oddly. Or did he? He probably just wants to know if Kai is available. If I’ve staked a claim. I hastily sip my scotch. “Naah, it’s not like that. She used to date my teammate’s brother. She’s like a sister to me.”

His face lights up. “So you’re saying there’s no dibs?”

“No dibs, man.” I glance at the still-crowded dance floor and wonder how much longer I need to be here. The speeches ended ten minutes ago, but nobody seems to be leaving, and I don’t want to be the first to bail.

“You think she’s DTF or L-FAR?”

“L-FAR?” I echo blankly.

“Looking for a ring.”

My lips twitch. Goddamn. Blake Riley is far too amusing for his own good. “I think you’re safe,” I tell him. “She’s focused on her modeling career right now. I don’t think she’s aiming for anything serious.”

“Sweetest words I’ve ever heard, brosky.” He proceeds to chatter on about how much he loves being single, and it isn’t until several moments have passed without a response from me that he stops talking and slants his head.

I feel like a bug under a microscope at Blake’s suddenly intense scrutiny.

“I screwed up, didn’t I?” he says.

I wrinkle my forehead. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t want to come to this party tonight.” His examination continues, eyes going serious. “I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted in. Ass, you, me, right?” He waves a sheepish hand. “I ruined your night, huh.”

He puts this as a statement, not a question. And that paranoid tickle at my neck is back. “Black tie isn’t really my thing. It reminds me of my parents’ crowd.”

Blake cocks his big head to the side. “You said you don’t get along with your folks. What’s that about?”

“Eh,” I hedge. “They like their society soirees more than they like me.”

He’s still watching me. “My bad, Wesley. I’m sorry.”

I shrug, searching for a way to put this conversation to rest. “I’m here now, penguin suit or not. And the women are sure easy on the eyes.”

There’s a long pause, and then Blake speaks again. “What’s Jamie doing tonight?”

The tingle becomes a chill, which actually hardens my spine. Why is he bringing up Jamie? And he called him Jamie, not J-Bomb or some other light-hearted nickname that relegates Jamie to casual roomie territory.

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “He probably went out.”

Blake keeps watching me.

The need to flee hits me hard, and I’m probably harsher than I should be as I snap, “Look, it’s fine. I’m not thrilled to be here tonight, but it’s been an okay time, all right?”

Luckily, we’re interrupted by our teammates before Blake can respond—or keep prying. Eriksson leads the pack with Forsberg and Hewitt in tow. Clearly all three have been frequent visitors to the open bar tonight, because they’re loud and rowdy as they join us.

“We’re hitting up The Lantern House,” Eriksson announces. He jabs the air in front of us. “You’re coming.”

“Sorry, man, but I’ve got plans,” Blake drawls. He peers off in the distance, a slow smile stretching his mouth. “And there she is now.”

Forsberg hoots as Blake ambles away from the group toward the stunning brunette who’s just reentered the ballroom. Kai greets him with a dazzling smile, and it isn’t long before the two of them are tangled together on the dance floor.

Good. This is awesome. Blake is officially occupied for the night, which means there’s no chance of him showing up at the apartment when I get home.

If that had occurred to me earlier, I would have spent the whole evening introducing him to women.

Eriksson, however, isn’t put off by Blake’s desertion. He slings one big arm around my shoulders and says, “Guess it’s just the four of us, kid. C’mon, let’s get our pub on.”

Aggravation clamps around my throat. No fucking way. I’m not going to a pub with these guys, not when Jamie is waiting for me at home. Not when I already allowed this goddamn benefit to ruin our night. If I head home now, at least Jamie and I could have a few hours together before bed. We’ve both got early practices tomorrow.

“Sorry, I’m passing, too.”

But I underestimated Eriksson’s tenacity. Or maybe I just hadn’t realized how much my friendship seems to mean to him. “Aw, don’t bail on me. This day has been shit from the moment I woke up.” His voice goes awkward. “I need my team to rally around me tonight.”

“You got it, bro,” Forsberg says. “Can’t believe I’m passing up easy pussy for you tonight. But even I can respect the bros-before-hos rule every now and then.”

How I hate that phrase. But the pathetic expression in Eriksson’s red-rimmed eyes triggers a rush of guilt. The man’s wife just told him she wants a divorce, for chrissake. And I’m standing here telling him to fuck off because I want to go home and snuggle with my boyfriend?

“Okay,” I finally say, reaching out to pat his arm. “I’m there.”