“What did you want, a parade?” He picked at a piece of tape on his shin pad. “You're my guy, Hart. That's not conditional.”
“So you're... okay with it?”
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“I don't know. Hockey culture? Locker room talk? The fact that we share a shower?”
“Hart, I've seen you naked approximately a thousand times. If you were going to make a move, you would've done it by now.” He paused. “Also, I'm not your type.”
“How would you know what my type is?”
“Because I've seen the way you look at Coach.”
My stomach dropped. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Rook's expression turned more serious. “Look, I'm not blind. And I'm not going to pretend I don't see what's happening. But that's your business, not mine.”
“Rook, if anyone finds out?—”
“Then they find out. And they can deal with it or get the fuck off my team.” He shrugged. “But I'm not going to tell anyone. That's your call.”
I stared at him. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He stood up, grabbed his water bottle. “You're still my winger. Still the guy I trust to bury the puck when I set you up. Still someone who shows up when it matters. The rest of it? Doesn't change a damn thing.”
“You're being weirdly cool about this.”
“What did you expect? That I'd freak out and request a trade?” He snorted. “Give me some credit, Hart. I went to college. I know gay people exist.”
“That's a low bar, Cap.”
“Yeah, well. I'm working with what I've got.” He paused, grin spreading. “So. Coach, huh?”
My face heated. “Don't?—”
“No, no, I'm genuinely curious. How does that even work? Like, does he yell at you during sex? 'Hartley, your positioning is shit, adjust your hips'?”
“Fuck off.”
“I'm just saying, the man's entire vocabulary is hockey terminology. Must make dirty talk interesting.” Rook was enjoying this way too much. “'Good work on that finish'? 'Keep your stick on the ice'?”
“I hate you.”
“Does he make you do bag skates if you?—”
“I will end you, Rook.”
He laughed, holding up his hands. “Alright, alright. I'm done.” He wasn't done. “But seriously, a week alone in the woods? You two must've been going at it like?—”
“Rook.”
“I'm just saying, that's a lot of quality time.” His grin was absolutely wicked now. “Did you even leave the cabin? Or were you too busy?—”
“We went hiking. We talked. We—” I stopped, realizing I was defending myself to his bullshit. “You're an asshole.”
“Yeah, but I'm an asshole who's got your back.” He took a drink of water. “Also, props for bagging the coach. That's some serious power move energy.”
“I didn't 'bag' anyone.”
