Page 48 of Cross Ice

“Of course.” He gestured to the man beside him. “This is Wesley. My boyfriend.”

“Nice to meet you.” Wesley shook my hand with a firm grip and a warm smile. He had the polished look of someone who worked in PR—crisp button-down, dark slacks, perfectly knotted tie, everything coordinated. A Pride watchband circled his wrist, the rainbow colors bright against his skin.

I ordered coffee and joined them at the table.

“So,” Griffin said, leaning forward. “Did you tell him?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I told him everything. No more vague ‘I work in sports’ answers.”

“And?” Wesley asked.

“And he said he’s willing to try.”

Griffin’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s good.”

“That means he sees something worth the risk,” Wesley added.

“Maybe.” I stared down at my coffee. “Or maybe he just hasn’t fully processed what he’s getting into yet.”

Griffin tilted his head. “Why do you say that?”

“His ex was Ryan Pierce.”

Griffin’s eyebrows shot up. “The actor?”

“Yeah. They dated for years. The media destroyed their relationship—paparazzi, tabloids, constant invasion of privacy. When Pierce cheated on him, Evan found out from photos posted online.” My shoulders tensed. “He ended up leaving LA and moving to San Jose just to escape it all.”

Griffin let out a low whistle. “And now he’s dating another public figure.”

“Exactly. He’s terrified he’ll lose his privacy again. That dating me will wreck the life he’s built there.” I looked up at them. “How do I prove I’m not Ryan Pierce, that I won’t let that happen to him?”

Griffin and Wesley exchanged a glance.

“When I came out and Wesley posted that we were in a relationship,” Griffin said carefully. “Wesley’s life changed overnight. There was media attention, photographers at games, people recognizing us in public. It was a lot.”

“But you weren’t hounded by paparazzi,” I said to Wesley. “Were you?”

“Not hounded, no. But there were photographers sometimes. Articles online. Comments dissecting our relationship.” Wesley shrugged slightly. “It was invasive. But I’m a PR manager. Dealing with media is literally my job. I knew what I was getting into.”

“Your guy doesn’t have that advantage,” Griffin said. “He’s walking into this with trauma from his last relationship and no professional experience managing public attention.”

“I know.” I swallowed. “That’s what scares me. I can’t promise him it won’t happen. I can’t guarantee his privacy. What if I’m asking him to sacrifice too much?”

“You’re not asking him to sacrifice anything,” Wesley said firmly. “You told him the truth and let him choose. That’s the difference between you and Ryan Pierce. His ex controlled him. You’re giving Evan the information and letting him decide.”

The words settled into my chest, easing some of the guilt.

“He gets to decide if he can handle it,” Wesley continued. “And he said he’s willing to try.”

“What if he changes his mind?”

“Then you respect that,” Griffin said. “But if he stayed after that conversation, I doubt he’s planning to run.”

I took a sip of my coffee, letting their words sink in.

“If this goes public,” Wesley said. “And you need help managing the media—crafting statements, handling public attention, protecting his privacy as much as possible—I’m happy to help. That’s what I do.”

“Really?”