Page 5 of Rookie Attraction

Before I head for the locker room, I turn to say thanks and goodbye to Sel, but he’s already talking with Damien, and I don’t want to interrupt. Instead, I offer them a wave and leave it at that. Even though I don’t know Sel, I have the urge to tell him more about why my head’s fucked up. But I don’t, because he’s basically a stranger, so that’d be weird. He was here to help us with hockey, not listen to our problems. Given how badly I played, Sel probably assumes hockey is my problem…

I had one opportunity to impress my idol and I blew it. It’s doubtful I’ll ever get the chance again.

Chapter One

SELWIN

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I stare at my agent, Miki Sunhill, and offer him my middle finger. It’s not professional, but after hearing the same question a hundred times over the span of two hours, I’m fed up.

“Swear to God, Mik, if you ask that one more fucking time⁠—”

Miki holds his hands up.

“I’d be a shit agent if I didn’t prepare you. Once this is out, it’s out. You can’t take it back. Your life is going to change. Permanently.”

“I know that, but I said I’m ready. I’ve been thinking about this for years and now it’s time.”

Miki runs an agitated hand through his salt and pepper hair and sighs. The guy’s only thirty-five, but I think he’s grown a few more grays today. Managing athletes is stressful as fuck and I have no clue how he does it—without the aid of booze, that is.

“There’s no telling what the team or the league’s reaction is going to be,” he insists.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. And I can handle whatever happens. ”

I’m cocky that way, always so sure of myself. And playing for one of the league’s top ranked teams means I can’t avoid the spotlight. Miki’s right, once I come out, I’m out. But I need to do it. I’m tired of the evasions and I’m done hiding. I have no freaking clue how my teammates are gonna react, but I have faith in them. This is Chicago after all, a city that’s progressive. I’ve played with the Bandits since I was drafted; if anyone will have my back, it’s these guys.

Miki nods.

“As long as you’re ready.”

The next day

The team owner, management, and players are informed first thing, but I don’t have time to gauge their reaction since I’m whisked off to make a formal statement at a press conference. Between being bombarded with question after question, and all the camera flashes, I’m in shock that it’s done.

I’m also eating my words. Me, confident?

Not quite.

My socials blow up and not in a good way. According to a lot of fans, I should’ve kept my mouth shut about my sexuality and stuck to hockey. I lose a shit ton of followers and block a bunch of hateful trolls. The disturbing comments rebound in my head and stay there. At least I get supportive calls and texts from my mom and my younger brothers, Karson and Atticus, but they already know I’m bi. Then I worry that I’ve put unnecessary pressure on my brothers, because they play professional hockey too. Karson’s a forward for the Toronto Sentinels and Atticus is a defenseman playing for the HLS, a European league based in Sweden.

Sel: Maybe I should’ve waited.

Karson: Until when? You’re forty? Come on, you did what you felt was right. You’ve been wanting to come out for ages. We got your back, bro.

Atticus: What Kar said. You know I don’t give a fuck what other people think.

I’m not shocked by their response; I cling to it like a goddamn lifeline.

What does surprise me are my teammates’ reactions. Not one of them calls after my announcement. In fact, no one calls, no one texts, no one stops by my place to see me. I’m not liking those odds.

When training starts, I step into the locker room acting more assured than I feel, but it’s not long before my mood takes a serious nosedive. The atmosphere’s icier than the rink, and there’s none of the usual banter and teasing. Instead, everyone stares at me like I’ve suddenly grown two heads. Normally, I’m the first one to make a quip, but my mouth is frozen.

I thought for sure my teammates would tell me, “It’s all good, nothing’s changed,” and “Let’s get on with playing.”

That’s not what happens at all.

I get messages from guys I know on other teams, but unfortunately, not my own. It hurts, no lie. Given my long history with the Bandits, it’s more than hurt—I’m devastated. I thought this was the place I’d spend the rest of my professional hockey career.