Page 172 of Over the Line

“Since…” He blinked. “Since November? And you never once thought that maybe the club should know about it?” He flailed a hand down the hall. “Or at least his son—your teammate—should know?”

“I…” I exhaled. “We were going to talk to him about⁠—”

“Save it,” he snapped, and he stabbed a finger at me. “You’d better hope this doesn’t fuck up my locker room. You hear me?”

I nodded. “Y-yeah, Coach.”

“You get in there, and you do damage control with your teammates, and especially with Kanes. And you better fucking hope you and PR can smooth this over with the media. You got that?”

Again, I nodded. “Yeah, Coach.”

But something told me the damage control ship had already sailed.

To say I was crushed was an understatement.

Sitting in the driver seat of my idling car in the arena’s garage, I rubbed my eyes and swore into the silence.

How had everything gone so wrong, so fast?

My team was in disarray. My linemate was livid with me.

My boyfriend… God, he was devastated. All the progress he’d carefully made with his son was suddenly hanging by a thread. What if this was one secret too many for Chris and there was no coming back this time?

And it was all public, too. Our private life was being broadcast all over the goddamned place. It was humiliating. Violating.

It was all getting worse in a hurry, too. Articles were popping up everywhere, each trying to outdo each other with ridiculous, embarrassing headlines.

Phantoms’ St. Clair Admits to GAY AFFAIR with Teammate’s FATHER!

Pittsburgh Captain’s Scandalous GAY TRYST!

Awkward in the Locker Room? Young Phantom’s FATHER Involved with GAY CAPTAIN!

I groaned. My first thought was to wonder why they’d emphasized “gay” so hard. My second thought was… Well, I knew why they did it. Because even though gay players were nothing new and several of us had been out for ages, the media still had to act like it was the most scandalous thing ever. My breakup with my ex had garnered bigger and more clickbaity headlines than another player being charged with domestic violence around the same time. Because apparently my breakup was a sign that queer relationships were unstable liabilities in the locker room, but a straight player beating his wife…

Fuck. I was exhausted just remembering that debacle. And how he and his team’s PR had taken full advantage of my position at the top of the headlines to quietly move on as if nothing had happened. Sometimes I still wondered if he might’ve experienced actual consequences if Tristan and I had stayed together another month or two.

Probably not, knowing this League.

In the present, I swallowed bile and tapped one of the stupid headlines.

PITTSBURGH –Liam St. Clair told fans outside practice that he has a new love! But this isn’t just another boyfriend for the openly gay hockey legend. St. Clair, 37, appears to be involved with none other than Garrett Kane, 47, the father of his rookie linemate, Chris Kane, 23.

Apart from the video, the couple have not acknowledged their relationship. St. Clair is notoriously private with no known presence on social media.

“Maybe that should’ve been a hint,” I grumbled aloud. My chest hurt as I dropped my phone into the cup holder and pressed back against the driver seat. Elbow beneath the window, I rubbed my temple and stared at nothing. I envied that fake version of myself. I wished so hard that it could’ve been real. That I could’ve happily and unabashedly told the world I was with Garrett.

But I couldn’t. And I hadn’t. And somehow…

Somehow it was out there anyway.

How had this even happened? The video was fake, but someone had to have suspected we were together. No one was going to randomly make a video of me with a teammate’s dad. And if they did, what were the odds they’d pick the right guy? Or pick a guy who was actually queer?

I let my hand fall to the steering wheel and gripped it tight enough to make the leather creak, and I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached.

Jack Arlen had to be involved. Who the fuck else could it be?

And also… why? Why would he do this?