Beck storms across the street, leading us away from the Caldwell Center. “Seriously, Beck, where the hell are we going?”
“Somewhere that I’m not your boss. We need to have this conversation as best friends.”
Okay. That doesn’t sound so bad.
After a few more blocks he turns, holding open the door to a tiny pub. “Why here?” I can’t help but ask.
“I feel like I’m going to need a drink for this conversation, and I didn’t want to pick a sports bar. This place doesn’t even have any TVs,” he points out as we approach the bar.
“I’ll have a pint of Guiness, and do you have an espresso martini?” Beck asks, and the bartender snorts a laugh.
“I’ll take a cider,” I try instead.
Drinks in hand, Beck leads us to the booth in the back corner,not that there are many people here to begin with. One table was full near the front window, and there’s a man seated at the bar, but I don’t think anyone is going to overhear us.
Beck takes a large sip from his drink. Actually, I don’t know if “sip” is the right word when he finishes half of the glass in one go.
“Okay, we’re going to pretend like we don’t work together for this conversation, and I’m officially drinking so I can reasonably claim I forget anything you tell me, anyway. Who are you sleeping with?”
My jaw falls open, partially at his theatrics dragging me here, because honestly, I appreciate the effort, but also because the answer should be obvious.
“Hudson! Who the fuck else would I be sleeping with?”
“Oh thank god,” Beck says on a heavy exhale. “That makes way more sense. For a moment, I panicked with Ollie’s whole coming out campaign?—”
“Oliver is, like, ten years younger than me, and not at all my type. Honestly, Beck, you claim to be my best friend! Have you forgotten the player I’ve been drooling over for years?”
He shakes his head laughing. “Not at all. I just didn’t know that player wasn’t straight.”
“I honestly don’t know if he’s claimed a different orientation label,” I admit, realizing that we haven’t actually talked about it. Maybe he doesn’t need a label. He was so confident when we first hooked up that he wasn’t straight that I haven’t questioned it again.
“But I have been fucking him for about a month now, so the conflict of interest is there,” I mutter before taking a big sip of my cider.
Beck looks even more surprised than I’d anticipated. “A whole month? Are we in a fight I didn’t know about? Are you mad at me? How did I not know about this?”
“No fight!” I quickly promise. “I just—I don’t know. Talking about it felt like I was going to jinx the situation, and it’s already complicated enough as it is.”
“Complicated how?”
“Well, for one, he said he wanted to date me, but I don’t believe him. I think he’s just excited about being with a man for the first time, and while we’re living together, everything feels so easy that he thinks he wants to be with me.”
Beck is squinting at me like he’s having a hard time understanding what I said. “Things feel too easy living together and sleeping together, so you think he doesn’t actually want to date you?” he repeats as a question. I nod. “A, relationships are supposed to feel easy. That’s a good thing.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not the point. I meant that, right now, I’m the convenient option, but when he has space and his own place, he’ll remember that other options exist, and he won’t actually want to be with me.”
Beck continues to stare at me incredulously. “Do you know why Hudson has been the captain for as long as he has?” he finally asks.
“Because he’s a great player and a good example for the young guys.” I shrug, keeping my answer short so I don’t break out into a monologue about how amazing Hudson is.
“Both onandoff the ice,” Beck emphasizes. “He has never been a PR concern before this season. He has never ended up on a puckbunny site or a gossip blog.”
“He was married.”
“Even before then. And he’s been on the team longer than anyone. He’s turned down higher paying contracts to stay with the team who believed in him when he was first coming up in the AHL. That man is loyal. If he says he wants to date you, I don’t think he’s going to suddenly change his mind.”
I blink at him, unsure howto respond.
“What was the other thing?” he asks.
