That did raise the question of why he was here, though.
“I went with the team that offered to pay me to play games for a living.” Danny shrugged. “You’re not a sports reporter, are you?”
To his surprise, Eliot blushed.
Now that the veneer of put-together aloofness had all but fallen away, he was really cute. Not Danny’s usual type, but there was definitely something about him.
“I’ve said something stupid already, huh?” He looked up again.
“Not exactly,” Danny said. “More a kind of general impression I’m getting. You’re very… not sports reporter-like. So, I mean, no offence, but why you?”
“I’m gay,” Eliot said. “My editor thought it’d be more comfortable for you that way.”
“I… oh.” Danny blinked.
Eliot’s editor had been right. That was way more comfortable for him.
He’d been dreading trying to explain himself to someone who had no idea what it was like, and now he wouldn’t have to.
“If that’s not okay, we can find someone else,” Eliot said, suddenly looking unsure. “I don’t know the first thing about hockey.”
Danny shook his head. “No, that’s, uh. That’s perfect, actually. I’d rather talk to you than some straight guy who didn’t get it. Can I get you a drink, or something?”
“Is there coffee?” Eliot asked, his eyes pleading. He looked like he could use a cup, now that Danny was over his own nervousness and actually paying attention.
“Sure, let me put a pot on.” Danny gestured vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. “We can start while I’m doing that, if you want? Not that I want to rush you, I just figure you’re busy…”
He had no idea what being a journalist was like, so they were even as far as not knowing anything about each other’s careers.
That was kind of nice. Eliot didn’t expect anything from him. He was just here to do his job.
“Yeah, uh, whenever you’re ready is fine by me.” Eliot reached into the shoulder bag he was carrying and extracted a notebook and pen, as well as his phone. “Feel free to say no, but is it okay if I record this? I won’t ever release the recording, but I’d like to have it to refer back to.”
“That’s fine,” Danny said. “I’ll try not to say anythingtooincriminating.”
He led the way into the kitchen, nervousness starting to grow in his stomach again. What if he did say something incriminating? Or just plain stupid?
He believed that Eliot wouldn’t release the recording. Something about him seemed honest, trustworthy. Not all journalists were assholes, even if some of them were. There had to be some good guys.
He’d reached out to Cocky because they were the good guys. On the surface, they were a glossy lifestyle magazine, but on the inside they had a lot of hidden depth, and had investigated some of the biggest stories of the last few years. Stuff other outlets hadn’t even bothered to touch.
They weren’t a gay magazine, but the people Danny wanted to come out to weren’t the kind of people who could be seen buying or reading one of those. He’d spent his whole life in the closet, and now, staring down the barrel of thirty and the end of his career, he wanted to give other people like him the courage to live as themselves. He’d missed out on so many things he wouldn’t have had to if he’d been able to be out.
No one on his team had been an asshole to his face yet, but it had been less than a week. There was still plenty of time.
Not that Danny thought any of them would be, but it was impossible to know how people would react to a situation before they were in it.
That was just another one of the things he’d had to give up. Other guys got to be close to their teammates, treat them like family. Danny had always felt like he was on the outside of that. He had no idea how his teammates would feel about him being gay, because he’d never been able to risk them finding out that he was.
“So I guess the first thing I should ask you is, why now?” Eliot settled on the bar stool tucked under the counter opposite where Danny was standing.
“I wanted to say something before I retired,” Danny said. He hadn’t announced his retirement just yet, but there were rumors that it was coming. He’d save it until the end of the season. “Most guys come out once they’re done with whatever sport they play, which I totally get. I just didn’t want to have to hide for my whole career.”
“Does that mean you’re retiring soon?” Eliot asked.
“Off the record?” Danny flicked on the coffee maker.
“I think you’re old enough to know that there’s no such thing as an off the record remark.”
