Page 68 of Two for Charging

Howie pinched the fabric of his tights between two fingers. “My hip hurt.”

“Uh-huh, and Denisov came by to apologize, huh?”

Howie didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.

“Are you seeing him?”

Howie scoffed. “Seeing him. What are you—eighty? We fucked once.”

“And then you did a deep dive on Russian Tartars?”

“Tatars.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said it with two Rs. Tartar is the fancy raw steak thingy.”

“Oh.” Chris had never heard of tartar or Tatars before tonight, so he thought he was doing pretty well. Then again, Denisov would probably disagree. “Like, I agree it’s not cool of Dmitriyev to…say what he said.”

In point of fact, Chris had no clue whether he agreed. He still didn’t know anything about Russia. He would have to do so much research later, and it would be the kind where he’d have to force his brain to get through it because he didn’t understand half the words in the Wikipedia article. Maybe he could ask Luca. Luca had a history degree, right? Then, they could sit on the couch, and Chris could put his head in Luca’s lap, and Luca could say smart things at him. Then maybe he would lean down and kiss Chris and—

Not the point.

“You seem really down, Howie. More upset than disagreeing about Russian politics would make you.”

Howie sighed. “I was gonna come out tonight.”

“No shit? Wow, that’s a big step; good for you!” Thank God Howie had waited to tell Chris this until Michelle had gotten him started on real therapy. A month ago, he would have freaked out, maybe tried to dissuade Howie. Now, he recognized his own frantic need to keep the peace had nothing to do with Howie’s happiness. It wasn’t as if Howie coming out could make the team more divided than Dmitriyev already had by sleeping with Cheryl. And if it did, Chris didn’t have a responsibility to fix it for them, and Howie didn’t have to stay closeted to make other people comfortable. If people wanted to be dicks, they didn’t deserve his effort.

“I didn’t fucking do it, did I?”

“Why not?”

Howie let his head thunk against the wall. “Chickened out. Hockey teams are so normcore, y’know? You’ve got all these dudes here with their blonde wives and two-point-four kids, and even the sad single guys are the most boring. Phil was talking to Jax about how to grill fish for a solid thirty minutes. What if I tell them I’m gay, and they all hate me?”

Chris swallowed. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. He couldn’t out anyone to anyone, but leaving Howie in the belief he was alone didn’t sit right either. “I’m sure Phil and Jax wouldn’t hate you. And Ben’s gay—he lives with Phil, right?” Ben came out to the whole team last year, so Chris hadn’t revealed any secrets by reminding Howie of this.

“The Russians would hate me.”

Chris’s words stuck in his throat. He hadn’t thought about the Russians.

“You know their supreme court called LGBTQ rights organizations extremist? What the fuck, right?”

“That is super messed up.”

“It was a stupid idea anyway.” Howie rolled the back of his head against the wall to look over at Chris. “There’s never been an out pro hockey player. Probably because all hockey players are jerks.”

“Hey.”

Instead of apologizing, Howie rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t you start small?” Chris suggested. “You know Ben is gay, and Phil is cool with it. And Jax and Mooney practically live at the shelter. And Tom shut it down when you said—when the thing happened last year. You could tell any of them.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.” Chris knew it beyond a shadow of a doubt, and not saying so frustrated him. If Luca were here, he’d know a smarter way to handle this. Why hadn’t he come with Chris?

“Maybe.”