He shakes his head. “Nah. I’ll grab something.”
“Kay. See you later.”
I roll up my window when Horny backs away, then look over at Etna. “Did he see me kiss you?”
“Horny has zero filter when it comes to shit like that. If he did, we’d know.”
I sigh. Etna pulls forward from the parking spot, then grabs my hand and links our fingers together. Not the safest way to drive, but I’m not sad about it.
“It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he had seen. You know that, right?” he asks.
“Yes.” I glance at him. “I guess I just don’t want to be caught off guard. I want to tell them when we’re ready. Not because I was spontaneous and couldn’t miss an opportunity to practice kissing just-because.”
“Only a couple more weeks. The people who matter will know first.Thenit doesn’t matter from there.”
My stomach flips. That’s true. Everyone will know. This feels much more real.
I get it. It’s not going to come as a shock to the world since the world is already convinced I’m gay. Hell, it probably won’t even come as a surprise that it’s Etna since our ‘bromance’ has been commented oneverywhereand itwasEtna I drunkenly kissed.Even our own team’s social media page has dubbed our relationship a bromance.
It’s me kissing him on the beach that got me my gay tag. I’ve always said I had no interest in fighting it because it’s not worth the hassle. My truth is my own and I wasn’t going to waste my time telling people—whose opinions mean shit to me anyway—until I was blue in the face that I’m not gay when they wouldn’t believe me either way. They know best, after all.
But then… maybe I didn’t fight it because on a subconscious level, there was some truth to it? At the absolute very least, I’m pretty obviously straight curious, right? There can’t be any argument for that. Right?
Who’s going to tell me I’m right so I can stop fixating on this?
“You going to be okay being inducted into the Gays Can Play brigade?” I ask to take my mind off this pressing question.
He snorts. “You talk them up all the time. And I’ve seen how the youth events affect you. I think it’s a good cause, even if I totally understand the reasons Lo doesn’t want to be a part of it.”
“Maybe that’s the difference. He grew up knowing he’s gay, so he’s had hurdles and challenges forever. It’s a different mindset, right? We’re newly gay and so seeing how being ourselves in the open with so many people who want to crush us because of it is important to young queer kids is still… just… impactful.”
“That was a jumble of a sentence,” Etna teases, smirking at me. “But I get it. We had this conversation when he told us. Always being labeled as ‘gay hockey player Laurent Duval’ can be irritating when everyone else is just ‘hockey player so-and-so.’ In a strange way, the LGBTQIA+ athletes are singled out far more than even the minority athletes by giving them this big club and flaunting it around. I wonder why.”
“I have plenty of stereotypes against me,” I say. “Trust.”
His hand tightens around mine. “I know. And I guess I don’t know at the same time. I’m never going to see it as much as you do because it doesn’t affect me being a plain white guy. But I’m about to make it my business.”
I smile. “Thanks, but we don’t need to make it anyone’s business. I understand what Lo’s saying on a very real but different level. I don’t want to be an Asian-American hockey player. I just want to be a hockey player. I want to be treated like everyone else.”
My heart just about stops when he picks my hand up and kisses the back of it. His eyes flick to mine briefly and he snorts laughter.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I feel my face with my free hand. How am I looking at him? “You’re innately better at romance. It sucks. I need to study more.”
He laughs again. “Fool.”
CHAPTER 11
ETNA
The house is enormous.I tap in the code, then hit the star. The lockbox opens and I pull out the key to let us in. We step inside and flick on the lights.
The place takes my breath away.
“Wow,” Keno says. “This is…”
I nod. Yep. The entire front of the house is open to the second floor, with windows covering it. There’s a ten- or twelve-foot tree, lit up and lightly decorated. There’s fresh green garland nestled on the highest windowsills. And icicle lights outlining the peak of the house in the front that reflect on the inside, twinkling merrily.
