“Group hug,” Flynn called out, and more bodies joined in our embrace—all of Zali’s guys and Monroe’s friend too.
“Looks like this afternoon has turned into a going away party,” Ezra said as we broke apart. He reached for his bottle of beersitting on the table and held it aloft in a toast. “To the three of you—you’re sweet as—”
“Puck,” I blurted as Spencer came bounding up the steps, his dog in tow.
Ezra laughed. “Sweet as puck, I like that.”
“Hey, Roe, can I have a sausage? You’re making them like Bunnings, right?” Spencer asked, completely unaware of Ezra having very nearly dropped the F-bomb.
“Sure, mate.” He smiled at me and lowered his voice. “Definitely sweet as puck.”
twenty-nine
Monroe
Mid-October
The first game of the pre-season was on home soil. Well, home ice anyway. The rink was packed to the rafters. The crowd was chanting louder than anything I’d ever heard before. I was buzzing. The whole arena was. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Seals fans were officially nuts in the best possible way.
I was probably the worst of them.
My voice was hoarse, and my ears were ringing. I was riding a high, and it wasn’t even me on the ice.
Our guy was out there, and I wanted everyone in that stadium to know he was the best around. I may have been a little biased, but I wasn’t the only one—Cara was just as blinded by his light.
It wasn’t only us either. The arena was full of fans chanting his name. They meant the world to Alec. He was a private person; he hated being in the limelight. But he’d do anything for his fans.
But it was no longer out of a desperation to be accepted. A hell of a lot of therapy had given him the tools to disassociate public opinion from his fears of abandonment. He wanted to contribute to his community, but he also didn’t want it to turn into a media storm. So he’d opted for doing it his way. Privately.
Alec had started volunteering at an LGBTQIA youth centre. He’d gone in there wanting to make a difference. His experiences weren’t unique, and he wanted to lend an ear to the ones who suffered the same fate as him and give them a soft landing. He wanted to help them achieve their dreams like his nan had done for him. But he also wanted to talk to them about the good things—living authentically and being proud of the person they saw in the mirror. It was an intensely personal thing for Alec, and I was so proud of him for taking the step.
He’d decided that coming out could wait. He just wanted to live his life and be happy. Some days he wanted to announce it to the world so kids could see themselves in him. Other days he enjoyed our runs together without all the speculation of whether or not we were together. One day he would come out, but he wasn’t ready yet, and that was okay. The social media trolls had made him gun-shy, and his therapist suggested going slow.
Alec had spent a lot of time over the summer with Gauthier, his agent, and Keeley. He’d helped out with projects they were working on—causes that were a little less personal for him—and his public perception was being repaired one good deed at a time. It sucked that he even needed to do it, but there were still so many people who didn’t believe Minns’s statement when he and Kam had finally come forward. The masses thought the team had forced them into it, then put Minns on the player assistance program. It had blown everything up again, and Caraand I were powerless to help, stuck on the other side of the world while waiting for our visas to come through. We’d hated every minute of being apart from Alec, but our relationship was stronger now. Talking did that for you.
But all the PR bullshit was working. There were thousands of number 10 jerseys in the crowd, and we all cheered harder when Alec’s name was announced.
Watching the team bring home the W was the icing on the cake.
The Seals were facing off against Las Vegas. It was a scrappy game, more of a dogfight than that easy grace I’d seen from them while playing Los Angeles. But it was a hard-fought victory, and it seemed all the sweeter for it.
The boys were clearly ecstatic. They’d worked hard to get back to peak performance before the beginning of the pre-season. Their fitness wasn’t their only focus either—gelling in their new roles had needed work too. Minns taking time away had necessitated a changeup in their lines. They were still settling into things, but they looked strong.
It was early days—literally the first pre-season game—but something in my gut told me this season was going to be good. Excellent, in fact. God forbid I actually voice anything out loud—these hockey players were ridiculously superstitious—but I didn’t need to say the words. All I had to do was close my eyes, and I could picture Gauthier hoisting that cup above his head, the team surrounding him as the crowd roared.
I wanted it for Alec. Hell, I wanted it for all the guys. The trip to Aus had started off rocky. Gauthier had admitted he’d been concerned about Alec’s safety, especially from Mironov and to a lesser extent Sawchuck. But as the trip progressed, they seemed to turn a corner. I’d noticed it too. They’d become less hostile toward Alec, and he’d unclenched.
Then, on the plane back home, Minns had admitted to the others that Alec and his wife weren’t cheating. He’d asked the team to keep the news private—he was going through some shit, and he needed to deal with it rather than stuffing it away like he had been. Minns had told them about going on leave, and he’d asked them to look after Alec because nothing was his fault. The team hadn’t pushed him to divulge details. Instead, they’d pulled together and supported both Alec and Minns.
It was the push Alec needed to really get past the hurt Minns and Kamirah had inflicted on him. He knew, deep down, that they were better off being teammates, and he wanted that back. Alec was determined to see Minns play again. I think Alec needed it as much as Minns did, and as queer guys in pro sports—even if Minns couldn’t admit it—Alec wanted to be there for him the same way Gauthier had been there for him.
The drive from the arena to Skyline—the team’s official celebration partner located in one of the tallest buildings in San Diego—was short and loud. We had a carful of people, all of us high from the Seals’ win, ready to get their party on. Minns had ferried us around in his giant SUV, but even though he had been at the game, cheering for the team right next to us, he didn’t stay. He wanted to let the boys keep bonding with their linemates.
Now all we needed to really get the celebration started was for Alec and Gauthier to finally arrive. They’d been the star players tonight, so they’d been asked to front the media after the game.
I wrapped Cara a little tighter in my arms and looked around the bar in the clouds. The view during the day was incredible, and at night it was magical. The city sprawled out below us and to the east, lights as far as the eye could see. To the darkened west was the Pacific, only the moonlight reflecting off its surface.
I couldn’t believe my life—I wanted to pinch myself most days. If I’d been asked about my plans six months ago, I would have said work, a trip up north fishing for barramundi in the Gulfor on the Reef, and time with Zali and her boys. Instead, I was standing in a bar with a bunch of professional hockey players, their partners, and the odd flatmate.
