Rusty typed a reply, put the SUV in gear, and pulled out slowly. “You do know this is Eugene, right? Very low adventure potential.”
“After a month in rehab? Everything’s an adventure.”
“Fair enough. Okay.” Rusty picked up speed and changed lanes, heading for the highway. “I’m really curious what Mrs. Murinko will say when she meets you. And I want you to like her.”
The I-5 from Portland down to Eugene was boring although there were some scenic moments. Cross spent the drive looking up who else might be invited to the Tornados development camp and mulling over the competition with Rusty.
“I wonder how the Tornados feel about me being gay,” Rusty mused.
“They wouldn’t have invited you if it was a deal breaker. They had a solid Pride night last season.”
“Yeah, good sign.” Some teams had cut back.
Cross thought for a while, as the green hills rolled by. “Do you think I should wait to come out till after your development camp? Or even the start of the season? So as not to draw attention to you?”
“Whoa, wait, what are you talking about?”
“Me coming out as bi. And maybe as ace, although I’m not sure about that yet. Coming out as your boyfriend.” When Rusty took his eyes off the road to stare, Cross blinked in confusion. “What? You knew I’ve been talking about doing that.”
“Yeah, but… not in any real way. Like, not‘Should I do it in June or July?’way. Just, someday.”
“Shit.” Cross ached. Apparently Rusty hadn’t believed him enough to trust he’d follow through. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like I wanted to hide you forever.”
Rusty had to give his attention to the heavy freeway traffic but he shrugged. “Forever’s a long time. Being out in hockey can be shit. I understood.”
“No, Rusty, mon chou, that’s not what I meant at all.”
“No?” Rusty threw him a glance. “And why are you calling me a shoe?”
“Mon chou. It just popped out. It means, my cabbage.”
“Cabbage? Seriously?”
“It’s an endearment in French. Chou is cabbage although we also use it for a creampuff.”
Rusty snorted. “I’m not sure that’s any better.”
“I don’t know. Full of rich, delicious cream?”
“Delicious? I may be wasting Fedora’s pizza on someone with your tastebuds.”
Cross chuckled, glad to take the tight look off Rusty’s face, but he wasn’t going to joke the topic away. “I want to be out, with you. I don’t know if there’s ever going to be an ideal time. I wish I’d done it while I was still playing.”
“We weren’t ready then.”
“I could’ve done it on my own. Come out as bi. Except then they’d have been sniffing around everyone in my life, and yeah, I didn’t want that for us.”
“And now?” Rusty did a good job of keeping his voice casual, but Cross could read tension in the lines of his body.
“Now I’m ready. Anytime, anywhere. I wanted to kiss you in that hospital parking lot after my surgery. But we should strategize, really think about your career and what makes sense. Maybe I should hire a PR person to plan—”
“No, don’t, not like that.” Rusty took a ragged breath. “I don’t want you and me to be this project with optics and scripted releases and whatever. Can’t we just come out when we’re ready, and what happens, happens?”
Cross thought that was optimistic, maybe naïve. But then, so was Rusty in a way that Cross cherished and didn’t want to squash. “We can do that.”
“Maybe after development camp, like you said. Once I get to make whatever impression. And then there’s still two months of off-season for people to get tired of us.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Cross didn’t want to distract Rusty but he leaned over and kissed his shoulder. “Hey.” The emotions couldn’t be held back. “I love you.”
