"How long have you been in a relationship with Nico Varis?"
I didn't flinch. Goalies don't flinch. "That's a strong word."
"I saw you in the parking lot, Kieran. I've seen you on the bus. I've watched you in the locker room, the way you track him across the ice, the way you don't look at each other when everyone else is around, which is actually louder than if you did look at each other." He paused. "And Theo told me Nico asked him how we knew. About us. How we knew the risk was worth it."
The silence stretched. Through the wall was the distant clatter of the locker room, guys changing, talking, living their uncomplicated lives.
"A few weeks," I said. "Since the road trip."
Luca nodded. He didn't look surprised. "And Park? Does he know?"
"Park knows I'm monitoring a teammate's behavior during a league investigation. That's what he asked me to do. The personal aspect is… separate."
"Is it?" Luca's voice sharpened. Not angry, but concerned. The difference was subtle. "Kieran, think about what you're saying. Park asked you to house this man and report on his conduct. You're sleeping with him. If the league finds out, if Brue finds out, they won't see it as separate. They'll see it as compromised. At best, you lose your credibility with management. At worst, you've given them grounds to question every report you've ever filed."
"My reports have been accurate."
"I know that. You know that. But appearances matter, and right now, the optics are—"
"I don't give a shit about optics."
"You should." He pushed off the wall and took a step closer. Not threatening—Luca didn't threaten. He occupied space in a way that made you understand the conversation had entered a phase where deflection was no longer an option. "I spent sixteen years in the closet because I cared about optics. I'm not telling you to hide. I'm telling you to think about what you're risking."
"What are you telling me to do?"
The words came out harder than I intended. Luca heard it. His expression shifted, from captain to friend, from authority to equal.
"End it," he said quietly. "Or disclose it. Those are the only two options that don't blow up in your face."
"I can't end it."
"Can't, or won't?"
"Both." I met his eyes. "I won't do that to him, Luca. He's had everything taken away. Every team, every relationship, every support system. I'm not going to be the next person who decides he's too complicated to keep."
Luca was quiet for a long time. His jaw worked, the same tell I'd watched him carry for a decade, the one that surfaced when he was processing something that mattered.
"Then disclose it," he said finally. "Tell Park. Get ahead of it before someone else does."
"And if Park pulls the arrangement?"
"Then Nico finds his own apartment and you date him like a normal person." Luca put his hand on my shoulder, the captain's touch that saidI've got you even when I disagree with you."I'm not your enemy here. I've been exactly where you are. I just need you to be smart about it."
He walked away.
I stood in the empty hallway and felt the conversation settle into my bones.
Bishop found me in the parking lot after practice.
This was unusual. Bishop didn't seek people out, people came to Bishop, or Bishop informed you of his presence by occupying your space until you acknowledged him. But today he was leaning against my car when I walked out, arms folded, expression unreadable.
"Walsh."
"Bishop."
"Got a minute?"
I unlocked the car. "Depends on what for."
