With the shouts and screams as the soundtrack of the surrealist moment of my life, my soul fucking sang from feeling so much love from these guys. When Jayden indicated his shirt once again, I reread the wordsWe love Ryan, and smiled, then Sutton turned, facing away from me.
And Ryan loves Nate.The words detonated the live wire in my heart, made it explode. I stepped toward them, wrapping Sutton in a hug, giving up from holding back my emotion.
“We’ve got you, man.” My friend squeezed a little harder as he spoke.
I nodded and pulled away, rubbing a hand over my face. Uncertain what to do next, I had no doubt the horror took over my expression. If anyone thought I was going to do a speech or some shit, they’d be sorely disappointed.
I had no intention of talking to the media ever about my sexuality.
As if reading my mind, Jayden grinned at me. “You’re not expected to do anything. Maybe wave and invite us all in for a beer.”
“Really?” That sounded like an ideal plan to me. While I knew there’d be questions and the road wouldn’t be easy, I could breathe easier with the solid, strong arm of support, at least for tonight.
“You know I’ve been on vacation and have no beer or food, right?”
Sutton responded. “All taken care of.”
Matt then appeared at my side. “You ready?”
“Yeah, thanks.” As we walked away, for the first time I looked at the crowd. In fairness it was mainly the press, but a few pockets of people had gathered, a couple of sweet We Support You signs being waved around, right along with some others I quickly looked away from, not willing to let their hatred ruin this moment.
As we approached the doors, some of the reporters’ questions and shouts reached me. I knew better than to make eye contact, let alone answer any of them.
“What do you say to the fans who are saying they’ll no longer support a team with men that kiss?”
Despite my tension, I rolled my eyes at the absurdly phrased question.
Some dick in the crowd must have heard the reporter, though, taking up a derisive chant. “Men kissing are sick.”
My jaw tightened, and I held Nate’s hand even tighter, and then I had no choice but to stop. Frowning, I looked at Jayden, who’d stopped dead in front of us. Fury flooded his features as he peered out at the small piece-of-shit group still chanting vile words.
“The stupid fuckers,” Jayden spat, loud enough for me to hear but not enough for it to reach the public. “I’ll fucking show them.”
My eyes widened at his words, a jolt of adrenaline slamming into me. Jayden did some stupid shit when pushed.
Before I could react, before I could reach out and tell him to leave it alone, he turned to Sutton, grabbed his face, and planted a big kiss on his mouth.
“Holy shit,” Nate gasped. Once again, all I could do was look on and nod.
EPILOGUE
NATE
NINE MONTHS LATER
It tookme leaving after my ninety days, returning a month later—rather than the initially planned two months—and then perhaps another couple of weeks for the media frenzy to truly stop. But honestly, what completely blindsided the both of us was that it was all concerning rumors of Ryan taking early retirement to move back to Australia rather than him being gay.
And who the fuck knew who started that rumor.
There’d been a few quieter weeks during that time, especially as he didn’t confirm anything. Some trade or whatever snagged the media attention for a while. It had been exhausting, especially for Ryan, who seemed to make it his mission to play harder than ever before.
His fierce determination to shut down the hate—because, while his team and the League were impressively supportive, there was no cutting the stupid out of bigots—by playing phenomenally made me as proud as I was concerned. He’d pushed himself hard all season, doing some damage to his ankle that didn’t seem to properly heal. And while the fans and media sang his praises after a win, the slightest fumble meant fresh news stories about his sexuality and a new round of hate-filled Tweets would make their rounds.
But we bore it all together. My three trips away to renew my visa had still happened, but the second and third time had been for just a week rather than my planned month. Not only was that because I missed Ryan, but I refused to let him go through any of this alone.
For eight long years we’d done that, and we’d both learned our lesson. Together we were happier, stronger.
Tonight was a struggle to hold back my excitement. As hard as I tried to maintain a sad face and commiserate with the team as they exited from the locker room after their round five loss in the playoffs, the twitch of my lips kept breaking free. Happiness knowing this was all finally over danced around my system. I wanted to grin and cry and jump on a plane and get the hell out of here and be home more than I wanted almost anything in the world. The exception being my man, who’d be stepping out any second.
