“I’m sure you know, but the draft isn’t without its risks either. If a team drafts you but doesn’t end up signing you, you’ll have become ineligible to be drafted again and will have to face an even harder battle to get picked up by another team. Many a great player was recruited from his college team.”
“You’ve seen that at Rideau?”
I nodded. “Meriah Callahan got signed by the Kraken last week. He’s a junior, like you, so you still have a shot.”
He sighed. “No pressure at all, right? Just the weight of my entire family’s financial future resting on my shoulders.”
I had nothing to say to that.
We spent the rest of the session working on shot selection, setting up scenarios where he had to choose between shooting and passing. His natural instinct was to shoot—he was a goal scorer, after all—but I wanted him to recognize when a pass would create a better opportunity for the team.
“This is the hardest part,” he admitted after choosing to pass in a situation where his old instincts would have demanded a shot. “Everything in me wants to take that shot.”
“But you recognized that the pass would create a better scoring chance for your line mate.”
“Yeah, but what if he misses? Then I look like an idiot for not shooting.”
“And what if he scores? Then you look like a player who understands hockey is a team sport.”
He considered this, skating slow circles around the practice area. “NHL scouts care about that stuff?”
“They care about players who make everyone around them better. Goal scorers are valuable, but players who elevate their entire line are invaluable.”
“Huh.” He seemed to be processing this, his expression thoughtful.
By the time we finished, both of us were breathing hard despite the cool air. Adan had worked through every drill with complete focus, pushing himself to master each technique before moving on. His dedication was impressive. This wasn’t someone coasting on natural talent, and I respected the hell out of him for that.
“Was this useful?” I asked as we skated toward the exit.
“Hell yeah. This was fun.”
“Fun?” Not what I had expected him to say.
“I know, shocker, right? I like learning new stuff, even if I give you shit about it.”
I grinned. “I’ll try not to take the shit-giving personally.”
“Probably for the best.”
As we walked back toward the locker rooms, my gaze drifted to him again—the confident way he moved, the satisfied expression on his face, the way he’d pushed his hair back from his forehead. There was something compelling about his combination of cockiness and genuine curiosity, his willingness to be challenged.
He disappeared into the locker room, leaving me standing in the empty corridor with my pulse running faster than it should have been. The session had been successful. Adan had shown real improvement, absorbed the instruction well, seemed genuinely engaged with the learning process.
But as I walked back to the coaches’ office, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked when he’d mastered that corner positioning drill with the flash of triumph in his eyes, the unconscious smile that had transformed his entire face. Or the way he’d listened so intently when I’d explained the strategic reasoning behind each technique.
Professional admiration, I told myself again, but I didn’t believe that lie even a little bit.
Because somewhere during that ninety-minute session, watching Adan Rivera work with complete focus and determination, I’d confirmed what I’d been suspecting about myself for years. I was definitely, undeniably attracted to men as well.
And I was definitely, undeniably attracted to this particular man.
Oj då,indeed.
4
ADAN
The scrimmage was getting heated, and I fucking loved it.
