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“I know, baby. Thank you.”
“You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, babe. See you soon.”
Even Noah, right beside him, was now on his phone. “It was rough, babe, but I’m okay,” his best friend was saying to Becca. “Yeah, I love you, too. Can’t wait to see you.”
Bennett couldn’t breathe. He was sitting there, alone, with no one to talk to. With no loving partner to make him feel better at one of the lowest points of his life. It wasn’t fair. Being gay shouldn’t mean suffering in silence, alone. Not being able to date or have a boyfriend. Everyone else—the straight people—were allowed to have someone in their lives. But because he liked both men and hockey, he couldn’t.
And he hated it.
Suddenly, vehemently, Bennett resented this sport and the locker room. This arena, the fans. The reporters who asked the same questions and management that forced the same answers. The news of Alex Sewell had already faded—a serial predator who raped women, forgotten after only a few weeks. The league had spun its damage control, as they always did when it involved sexual assault, and the world had moved on.
Yet somehow being gay was worse?
An anger he hadn’t ever experienced before clawed inside his chest, his ears buzzing with it, and he wanted to hit something. Nico was gone, and Bennett was doomed to be alone, all because he was good at shooting a rubber disc into a net. Why? It made no sense. Who cared whether someone preferred men or women?
“Hey.” Noah nudged his arm. “What’s going on? You okay?”
No, I’m not fucking okay, Bennett wanted to snap. He was heartbroken and alone and no one knew. He couldn’t tell anyone.
Yet Bennett knew everything about each guy’s relationship in this room. Every fight with a wife, every time a girlfriend was pissed. Their hookups, their babies. Hell, Bergy made all of them listen about the anniversary date he planned for his wife in January. Why couldn’t Bennett have the same?
He desperately, fervently wanted Nico right now. He could almost picture it. Nico, charming the WAGs in the family room with his sexy accent and gorgeous smile. Then Bennett would drag him away to their apartment, where they’d share a bottle of wine and maybe a homemade chocolate chip cookie. Nico would threaten to hurt all the opposing players who dared to check Bennett into the boards and then remind Bennett to ice his knee, while Bennett would listen to Nico talk about his day and his grandfather. They’d practice Italian together, and Nico would laugh at Bennett’s pronunciation but still love it all the same.
Not long after, they would fuck and then fall asleep wrapped around each other. And the sting from tonight’s loss wouldn’t feel so fucking awful.
Goddamn it.
He couldn’t breathe through the disappointment that he couldn’t have that. That he would never have that. Because of the guys in this room, the sport they played, he couldn’t be with Nico. Bennett couldn’t have anyone, not in a real sense. They all thought he was dating Lauren, which was a lie. Not one person in this room knew who he really was, except Noah.
“Bennett?” Noah said, concern evident in his voice.
The urge to keep quiet, the self-preservation Bennett normally felt, disappeared. He was too heartbroken, too devastated. Too angry. He said, “Everyone in the room gets to be themselves. Everyone gets to be happy except for me. And it’s not fucking fair.”
“I’m sorry, Benny.”
What else could be said? It sucked, but there was no changing it. Not when it came to Nico. Except Bennett didn’t want to do this for someone else. He wanted to do this for himself. He wanted to look in the mirror and see what he felt on the inside reflected on the outside. He was so tired of lying, of pretending just to protect a broken system.
Why should he be the one to hide? Why should his happiness be sacrificed for the status quo?
“I want to tell them,” he blurted.
“Tell them—oh.” A beat of silence. “Really?”
“Really.”
Noah didn’t hesitate. “Then tell them.”
Bennett looked over at his friend and licked his dry lips. “I’m tired of lying. And I’m fucking pissed.”
“Pissed because of the loss?”
“No. Well, yes, but mostly I’m pissed because of how no one gives a shit about what Sewell did anymore. I’m pissed because I’ve been lying and hiding my entire career. And I’m really fucking pissed that I’ve lost the only man I ever cared about because of this sport.”
Noah’s gaze widened. “You want to openly date the Italian?”
“The Italian left me. I wanted more and it turns out he didn’t. But if I’d been out? Who knows? Maybe things could’ve been different. Or maybe I’ll find someone else to date eventually.”
