“I believe that,” he laughs.
“Wait, did you say you’ll marry me?”
“I did tell our uncle I’d be getting down on my knee soon.” The way Wolfe saysourmakes me raise a brow.
“Don’t joke about that! It’s serious, and I’m really starting to think you’ll propose before you get down on your knees for any other reason.”
He grins, and that makes it worse.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. He kind of apologized, like in his own way, and then you will not believe this part. He said he doesn’t care if I’m gay, he just doesn’t want me to ruin my chances.” Wolfe looks like he doesn’t believe it himself.
“Really? I was so sure he was a homophobe.”
“That’s what I’m saying! I was sure.”
“And he apologized? Or like blamed you.”
“No, he actually said he made mistakes. It was real weird.” Wolfe shudders.
“Ew, don’t make me consider forgiving an abusive cop.” I make a face.
“I would never suggest that. Especially my dad.” He shudders and buries his face in my neck.
I hug him to me, not sure what the right answer for any of this is.
How much more can we take?
The week decidesto throw more shit at us when, on the morning we’re leaving for the semifinals, we walk into the bodega to find a picture of us from Pride Night on the front of a tabloid.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Did the universe really have to do all this the same week? This is homophobia.”
“When it rains, it snowballs.” He picks up the magazine to read it.
“Don’t read it.”
“Maybe no one will even notice?” he says, tossing down the tabloid with the very obvious picture of us and the headline “TOP DRAFT PICK AND BOYFRIEND MAKE OUT ON ICE RINK”.
“The guys don’t read this kind of shit. It’s fine.” Wolfe shoves the paper back into the rack.
“It’s our faces on a magazine, probably everywhere in the fucking city.”
He can’t really think this will be nothing?
He puts his hand over my mouth. “You’ve done enough doubting and cursing us. Positive thoughts.”
“I’m a fucking pessimist.”
“Shhhhhh. I can’t hear you over visualizing myself winning.”
“Have you been listening to weird self-help books again?”
“Visualizing is science!”
“What are we going to say to the guys?”
He points at me. “Shut the fuck up. Nothing is ruining my day.”
Everyone is looking at us when we get on the team plane.
