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Noah’s hand landed on Bennett’s shoulder, squeezed. “You know I’ll support you in whatever you decide.”

Before he could give more thought and talk himself out of it, Bennett stood up. “Boys, I need the room.”

Everyone paused.

Some players were half-dressed, some were still on the phone. Staff buzzed around the room, collecting jerseys and equipment. Bennett took a deep breath. “Players only, please.”

It took a minute, but the staff left and the metal door was firmly closed. Guys put down their phones and sat on the benches, giving their captain their full attention. A player-only meeting was not unheard of at the end of the season. They probably expected him to talk about the series or the team. Or Alex Sewell. The guys would not be expecting a personal declaration like this.

Bennett’s hands shook, so he clasped them. Shit. Was he really going to do this? He hadn’t said the words aloud more than once or twice in his entire life. He dragged his gaze over every one of the boys, wondering if he’d keep their respect, their friendship. No one should care, but this sport had a long legacy of caring too much when it came to this issue.

He hesitated.

“Are you asking for a trade in July?” Singh said into the silence, referring to the start of free agency.

Bennett shook his head instantly. “No.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Bergy wheezed, placing a hand on his chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack, Cap.”

Singh blew out a harsh breath of what sounded like relief. “Yeah, I thought he was gone for sure. Wait, is someone else being traded?”

“No one is being traded that I know of,” Bennett said, palms up as an offering of reassurance. “Everyone calm down. This is about me. About a relationship.”

“What happened?” McPherson asked. “You and Lauren break up?”

“No. Yes. I mean—” God, why was this so hard? They were a few simple words, yet getting them out of his mouth felt impossible. He wiped his sweaty palms on his hockey pants. “Okay. Listen. I’ve been . . . I need to tell you . . . ”

Fuck, he was making this worse. Come on, Bennett, just spit it out already. “I’m gay.”

Silence. The air seemed to leave the room, though it may just have been Bennett’s lungs that were affected.

Stop acting ashamed.

He shoved his shoulders back and didn’t drop his gaze, making sure to look at each of their faces. “My whole life. My whole career. I won’t be making a big announcement or posting on socials, but I wanted the guys in this room to know. So now you know.”

He turned toward his stall and took off his pads. Behind him, he could only hear shuffling as guys adjusted in their gear. The air conditioning whirred as it recirculated the ever-present smell of sweat, chemicals, and cologne. The silence was awkward, but Bennett didn’t know how to make it any less awkward. So best not to say anything at all.

“Does this mean Lauren is single?”

The words snapped Bennett out of his head like he’d been struck. He swung around and glared directly at Patrick Cross, who’d asked the question. “Stay away from her, you dick.”

“Okay, man.” He held up his palms. “But she’s a smoke show. So, like, if she wants to date one of us for real⁠—”

“She doesn’t,” Bennett said emphatically.

“Jesus,” Noah muttered tiredly, dragging a hand down his face. To the entire room, he said, “Guys, don’t be assholes.”

“Why tell us now?” Bergy asked. “Seems like you’ve been keeping this quiet for a long time.”

Bennett didn’t want to get into the Nico situation. It was too raw, too personal. And it might be weird for the boys if they thought he was actually dating someone. “Just tired of lying about it,” he said. “It’s fucking exhausting.”

“We support you, Benny.” Noah’s voice was loud. “Right, boys?”

“Of course,” someone said, then the other teammates started to speak up.

“Cap, that’s great.”

“Happy for you, man.”