But none of that happened. All he did was reaffirm my feelings with his own.
Maybe it was coincidence, or maybe it was an observant DJ who wanted to make a statement, but I looked up to see that our kiss had been on the jumbotron just as “Born This Way” by Lady Gaga started playing through the arena.
“A little on the nose, huh?” I said as I kissed him again.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Post-Game Celebrations
ELI
The pack had gatheredat Emmy’s house after the game. Music blasted from the speakers outside. The smell of smoky meat and buttered corn was carried with the gentle night breeze. My muscles ached, and a couple of spots were already beginning to bruise from where I got hit, but that was nothing a couple of cans of locally brewed IPA couldn’t fix. I cracked another one open and went over to the fire pit, where Gabe sat with Chris and Soren. He had changed into a pair of black shorts and a slightly oversized T-shirt with a neon green and pink television advertisingMTV Spring Break—circa 1999. His sleeves were rolled up so that his biceps were in full view.
Fuck.
I wanted to lick them.
“No,” Chris said, waving a hand in the air. “No, I don’t think pineapple on pizza should ever be allowed. It’s like putting a donut on a steak. It’s just weird.”
“What do you think?” Gabe asked me as I took the seat next to him. I inched it closer to the left so that our legs were touching. It felt so fucking good not having tohide. I didn’t think something like this would ever happen, not after I learnedwhyGabe had been so hesitant about following his heart. His reason appeared to be insurmountable. I had been reckoning with the idea of possibly being secret boyfriends for the foreseeable future.
Clearly, I would have never made it as a fortune teller.
Thank fucking God.
“I like it,” I said.
Chris dropped his head back and put a hand on his face. “Damn, man, I trusted you.”
“Don’t you eat like raw deer when you shift?” I noted.
Chris spread his fingers open and looked through the hole. “Yes. And that’sstillbetter than pineapple on pizza.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I said with a laugh. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at it and saw it was from my manager, forwarding overanotherinterview request. This one for… “Oh shit.”
“What?” Gabe asked.
“Looks likeTIMEmagazine is asking us for an interview for their Pride issue.”
“Really?” Gabe leaned over and read the message. His bushy black brow arched. He seemed to be interested in this one. We had both agreed that keeping out of the media as much as possible would be best, considering the, uh, circumstances. But we also agreed that it was important for us to realize that there’d be people looking toward us as symbols of positivity and hope, that kids who may have loved hockey but felt like they didn’t belong because they were queer would look to us for that green light. It’d be selfish of us to completely wall ourselves off and not use our platform for good.
“Holy shit,” Chris leaned forward. “TIME? That’s huge.”
Soren shrugged. “If it is not for Most Interesting Person of the Year, then say no.”
I laughed, handing the phone over to Chris, who wanted to read the email. “I don’t think I’m in the running for that issue.”
“You would be if I were running the magazine,” Gabe said.
Chris “awed,” and Soren rolled his eyes, his smile giving away how he really felt.
My heart did a tiny little leap. It may have been corny, but it was sincere and actually made me feel like I would be on the cover of Gabe’s magazine.
Especially after that surprising declaration after the game. I wasn’t expecting it, but I couldn’t deny that I felt the same exact way for him. I truly did love him. I felt like I was home whenever I was around him. He was my comfort, my light.
He was my fated mate.
How could I not love him?
