Page 1 of Dirty Zone

Chapter 1

Maverick Maher

The wall at my back is a solid reminder that this is my new reality. Even if I’m not living life authentically, I’m surrounded by men, my teammates, who are brave and accept me. They’re celebrating and dancing while I’m watching from the sidelines. An appropriate microcosm of my world.

The past six months have drastically changed me, but everything outwardly remains the same. Younger me could not fathom I’d be at an All-Star goalie’s bachelor party or that he’d be marrying a man, but Patrik Liska and his fiancé Trevor welcomed me into their home with hugs. Their sixtieth-floor apartment has two walls of windows overlooking the Chrysler Building and the East River. The furniture and appliances are quality, high-end. Everything is sleek and modern with homey personal touches. A map of the Czech Republic, a poster-size picture of Trevor’s design storefront, and lots of pictures of the two of them.

It’s as close to an out-of-body experience as I’ve ever had, observing the team dancing in front of the Manhattan skyline as music blares from a thousand speakers while I stand by myself. Included but separate.

Telling the team I’m bi screams I’m a liar and a fraud. I don’t deserve to be part of a community I distanced myself from for years. The one person who knew the true me left without a word or a backward glance. I haven’t been brave enough to try again.

The culture here is drastically different from other teams, so I wasn’t worried about coming out, but I wasn’t prepared for the level of openness. We are unequivocally the queerest team in the league.

The pact I made with Rhys Brant, our first-line defender, an hour ago shouldn’t depress me. Shouldn’t have relegated me to a wallflower. Brant’s right. It’s not healthy for either of us to wish for impossible things.

My impossibility is Skylar Engelhardt, who ghosted me on high school graduation day. Not one word, text, or DM. My socials are public because of him and the chance he might change his mind. Losing him was worse than a death because I had no idea what happened. One minute, we were making plans to move to Boston together, and the next, he was gone without a trace.

The fairy-tale life still lives in my brain. We were supposed to go to the same college with plans to move in together after a couple of years while I was in the AHL. Sky had been consumed with how to pay for school, but I could’ve helped. And once I got called up to the NHL, money wouldn’t be an issue. There are a million ways for a dancer to find success in New York City. Skylar could be so happy here.

The couples’ dirty dancing makes my stomach flip-flop with thoughts of what might have been. This atmosphere is the type of place that would make Sky shine and thrive. The small things like the party and grinding against me to the beat of the music. And big things like the artist’s creative culture.

A strangled sound takes me by surprise. I follow Griff’s eyes to see his father and his best friend dancing. Griff’s a winger on my line and becoming a good friend.

Griff groans. “Don’t ever date your friend’s parent.” He clinks our cups together.

“Solid advice that I won’t have any trouble following.” I enjoy the alcohol hitting my system, and the pulsing beat prevents us from making small talk.

Seeing my teammates openly love men is as inspiring as it is terrifying. They represent what I could have if Skylar hadn’t left me. They’re living their best lives openly. Haters exist, but they don’t take away from my teammates’ love.

They’ve volunteered to be my wingmen, but it’s wrong. I won’t pick up a random guy when my heart is foolishly in love with someone else. Guys hook up regularly because it’s so easy, but that’s not me.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get over Skylar and fall for someone else. It’s been over four years. How long do I hang on? Until our fifth high school reunion? Ten years? Not another day longer?

“Where are they going?” I motion to Griff’s dad, Leo, and Benz, our backup goalie, who are leaving the room.

“Hopefully, the bar and not some dark corner.”

“Cheers to that,” I say stupidly. At this point, the smell of sex would send me into a deep depression.

More drinking, less talking. I finish my drink, cross the floor to the dining room, and find Benzy rearranging the table and chairs. I glance at Griff, who’s talking to someone else.

“If you two get kinky, Griff will lose his shit.” I pour another shot and a drink, going for comfortably numb.

I’m not paying attention to the discussion, but Liska and Trevor sound mad, so I sit my ass down in a chair to stay out of the way. Benz rushes out, and Leo uses his coach-dad voice to get everyone into the dining room.

I have a front-row seat to whatever this shitshow will be. Guys fill in the seats around me, but I save one for Brant. As two single bi guys, we stick together.

Benz reappears, biting his lip, and there’s someone behind him. “Everyone,” Benz says, stepping to the side, and I drop my cup. Everything changes to slow motion, and Skylar waves next to Benz.

My heart leaps out the window and splats on the pavement. I’d recognize his petite dancer’s frame and bottomless brown eyes anywhere. His messy brown curls are pulled back with a headband, and he’s wearing slouchy workout clothes.

I’m frozen with shock until Benz speaks. “This is my friend, Lark, and he’s—”

The realization of why he’s here explodes in my brain and enrages me. I’m out of my seat, hauling Sky up and yelling, “My boyfriend.”

Chapter 2

Skylar Engelhardt/ Lark Angel