I wanted to deny it, dismiss it, maybe make a joke and change the subject.
But the words stuck in my throat.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
Thiswasdifferent.
And I had no idea what to do about it.
“Even if I do like him,” I said, “that doesn’t change the fact that he’s straightandhe’s famous. He’s going through something that has nothing to do with me, and I’m a convenient shoulder to lean on.”
“Maybe,” Mark said. “Or maybe you’re more than that and neither of you has figured it out yet.”
“That’s a dangerous assumption to make.”
“It is.” Finn nodded. “Which is why we’re telling you to be careful.”
Benji, quiet for the last few minutes, finally spoke up. “We’re not saying don’t be his friend or don’t go to lunch. We’re saying protect yourself. Famous closeted athletes have a way of pulling people into their orbit and then disappearing when things get complicated. I’ve seen it happen. It’s not pretty.”
“Skyler’s not like that.”
“You don’t know what he’s like, not really. You’ve known him for, what, a few weeks? A month?” Benji’s voice was softer, stripped of its usual theatrical flair. “That’s not enough time to know someone, not the version that comes out when things get hard.”
The words landed somewhere in my chest, heavy and true. He was right. They were all right. I barely knew Skyler. I knew the surface version, the charming smile and easy banter and pieces of vulnerability he’d shown me in the booth, but I didn’t know what he’d do when the stakes got higher or when the comfort of our little bubble collided with the reality of his career and his image and everything he stood to lose.
“I hear you,” I said. “And I appreciate that you care enough to say something.”
“But?” Finn prompted.
“But I’m still going to lunch. Right now we’re just friends. Maybe that’s all we’ll ever be. If that’s thecase, I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.”
Another round of exchanged looks.
I watched them weighing my words, deciding whether to push harder or let it go.
Finally, Mark spoke. “Promise us you’ll be honest with yourself about what you want and what’s realistic, okay?”
“I promise.”
“And if it starts to hurt,” Finn added, “if you start to feel like you’re in over your head, you’ll talk to us.”
“Okay.”
Benji slid off his stool and pulled me into an unexpected hug. He smelled like expensive cologne and the faint sweetness of whatever cocktail he’d been taste-testing earlier. “You deserve good things, Jacks.”
“Thanks, Benj.”
He pulled back, his grin snapping back into place. “Now, enough emotional processing. We have a bar to open and a hockey game to watch. Let’s go make some money.”
The tension broke as we scattered to our various tasks, the familiar rhythm of pre-shift prep taking over. I restocked the garnish trays while Benji did his final bottle arrangements and Finn ran through the lists with Mark, but underneath the routine, theirwords kept echoing.
Be careful.
Protect yourself.
Famous closeted athletes have a way of disappearing when things get complicated.
I knew they were right. I was walking into something potentially painful, eyes wide open, my heart already more invested than it should be. The smart thing would be to pull back, to keep things surface level and maintain the friendship without giving it any chance of becoming more.
