“Were we hiding?” Wolfe looks at me questioningly.
“Huh?” I ask, too tired to figure out what point he’s trying to make.
“I wasn’t aware we were hiding,” he says, which doesn’t help clarify anything.
“What do you mean, hiding? Are we, like, in the bushes in the photos? Because I do not remember making out in the bushes…”I need to not be a person for a few hours and for no one to perceive me. This is too much for my brain.
“Photos of us can’t leak if we aren’t hiding our relationship. Then it’s just people being weird and taking photos of us in public.”
“Well, to be fair, even when celebrities aren’t hiding a relationship, people love to take pictures of them in public,” Seaborn says with a shrug.
“And it’s weird because I’m not a celebrity.”
“Not yet. But dude, once you’re drafted, you will be. You know that, right?”
Wolfe shrugs and then growls. “This stupid bruise is really inconvenient with how I live my life.”
My brain catches up with the conversation. “So it’s just fine if there are photos of us floating around?”
“It’s annoying we’re being stalked, but like, who’s really going to care other than this niche Tumblr blog?” Wolfe makes a semi good point. Most people don’t pay attention until a player reaches the NHL level.
“But what will the team say?”
Wolfe scoffs. “Half those fuckers are gay. Hawke is gay.”
“Hawke is bisexual,” I say to rib him.
“Now you’re lecturing me on bisexuality?!” Wolfe gives me a flat look.
“I’m also bisexual, not out to the team, but Cox is, and no one seems to care,” Seaborn says, making me feel a little better.
“That’s true…but it’s not weird to date a teammate? I don’t want them thinking I’d fuck any of them.” I’d gone out of my way to make sure all the guys on every team I’ve ever played on know gay guys weren’t just ‘checking them out in the locker room’ or attracted to them just because they are male. “I have standards.”
“I think everyone got it after your PowerPoint.”
“So there’s no issue?” Why do I keep feeling like the other shoe is going to drop? Is it just me?
“What issue would there be?” Wolfe asks. “I told you I don’t care if people know from the beginning, and you keep being surprised.”
I flip him off. “The issue is your throat, that’s my issue.”
“If you want to try fucking my throat, you can, but if I can’t breathe, it’s on you.”
“I’m going to leave.” Seaborn gets up.
I lock the door behind him, and when I get back, Wolfe looks totally worn out. Like he was only holding it together for everyone else. “Let’s go to bed.”
He lays back from where he’s sitting on the edge, not even taking his shoes off. “But I’m all gross.”
“Then let’s take a shower.” I drop to one knee in front of him to take the cheap slides they gave him to leave in since he didn’t have shoes.
“Are you proposing?” He half sits up.
I glare up at him. “You told my uncle you were doing that.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t as well.”
“Let’s get through the draft and my sister’s wedding before anyone proposes, okay?” I help him out of his Under Armor, then his shorts and jock. It’s a shame we are both dead on our feet because he is so fucking hot in his gear.
