Page 181 of Over the Line

“No,” I said. “That’s not how this is going to play out.”

“Oh, yeah?” He let the sarcasm drip, and it almost masked the waver in his voice. “And how does it work out any differently? Because there is no scenario where this team keeps me over you.”

“If we can’t play together,” I said, “then I’ll go back up to Gil’s office and let him know I’m retiring.”

“That—” Chris’s jaw went slack. “What?”

“I’m not going to let this affect your career. You didn’t do anything wrong, and over my dead body are you getting traded or waived because of something I did.”

He stared at me, and I thought his knees went slack. With his foot, he pulled out a chair, and he dropped into it. “I don’t want your career ending over this.”

“Neither do I, but that’s what I’m willing to do. This is my responsibility, not yours, and I’m telling you this because I need to be able to tell Gil before he submits names for waivers.”

Chris’s focus shifted to the floor between us, and he gulped. After a painfully long moment, he met my gaze again, and he sounded dazed. “I don’t want you to lose your career. I…” He broke eye contact again, and he chewed his lip.

I cringed inwardly. “I’m not telling you this to pressure you or manipulate you. I don’t want you to suck it up and play alongside me because you think you have to. I just… I won’t let Gil waive you.”

“But you can’t give up your career either,” he protested. “You’re the captain!”

“Which means I’m responsible for this team. And I’m responsible for this whole shitshow. So if there are going to be consequences for anyone, they should fall on me.”

Chris stared for several seconds, long enough I wondered if he’d even understood what I’d said. Finally, he said, “But if we can work together… then no one gets waived, right? No one has to leave?”

“If we can work together. But if you really, truly can’t—honestly, if it’s going to throw you off your game, then I don’t⁠—”

“It won’t.” He pushed himself to his feet, and he squared his shoulders. “No, I’m not thrilled about all this. And it’s going to take me some time to get my head around it. And me and my dad need to talk. But…” He shook his head. “I can keep playing together.” He paused. “I want to keep playing together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” He straightened a bit more. “If the alternative is you or me leaving the team, then I’d definitely say yes. But also, we’re good together on the ice. I want us to keep that going.”

Tentative relief started to loosen the tightness in my neck and shoulders. “I do too.”

“Do you, uh…” He swallowed. “Are you going to be like, out now? As a couple?”

I searched his eyes. “Will it hurt us on the ice if we are?”

Chris stared at the floor for a long moment, probably thinking it over. I didn’t begrudge him that; this was a lot, and he deserved the chance to work through how he felt about it.

After a long time, he whispered, “No. It won’t hurt us.” He met my gaze. “It’s weird, but I’ll get used to it.” With a dry laugh, he added, “I don’t even think I was mad that you guys were together. It was weird and it was a shock, but the part that pissed me off was how I found out. And that you and Dad didn’t tell me. That he kept something from me again.” He offered a tight half-shrug. “I think I can get used to the rest.”

“Okay. Good to know. And… I’m sorry we didn’t tell you.”

He nodded. Then he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We, uh… We should get ready for practice.”

He was right—we didn’t have much time before we were expected to be on the ice.

“Yeah. We should. I’ll go talk to Gil, and then I’ll join you in the locker room.”

He flashed a quick if slightly uneasy smile, and then we headed out of the conference room.

At the end of the hall, he continued toward the locker room while I went upstairs to Gil’s office. All the way, my heart pounded with a million different feelings.

I hoped I’d played this right. I hoped I hadn’t made him feel like he was backed into a corner, or that I was emotionally blackmailing him.

I hoped Chris and I really could play alongside each other and not fuck up this team, this season, or Chris’s career.

My career? Well, I’d had an amazing run. If it turned out we couldn’t function and I had to end it now, I’d be sad about it, but I could lie in the bed I’d made.