Page 11 of Rookie Attraction

“When?”

“I don’t know,” Sel admits. “It hasn’t happened yet.”

Chapter Three

SELWIN

For the first time since I came out, I don’t vomit before hitting the ice. It’s not a win, but I’ll take it.

Today’s been one shock after another, but not in a bad way. I was more than relieved to see Finn. Several of his college teammates and friends are openly queer, so I know I’ve got at least one person in my corner. And the rest of the Rush don’t seem to have an issue with me, but we haven’t had a chance to really talk yet. Not everyone warms up to people right away, but then again, neither do I.

Not anymore.

Every part of me tenses when I meet a new person here in New York. Are they going to be welcoming or tell me to fuck off? I’ve never had to worry about that before, but the reality is, I’ll be coming out for the rest of my life. It’s not a one-time thing. And what will happen when I hit the ice in front of the fans? How are they gonna react? Will they boo, call me names? And what about when I’m on the road in other cities? How about the reaction of the rest of the teams in the league?

Unanswered questions zip through my head, and they’re only adding to the pressure that weighs a hundred times heavier than my equipment. I remember thinking that Finn was the one who would have a hard time adjusting if he went pro. Finn seems like a sweet guy, but playing at this level is a learning curve. There are grueling practices and long games, dealing with demanding coaches and team owners. Add to that, having to navigate the press and appease sponsors… There are a lot of positives to playing professional hockey, but there are also strong personalities and cutthroat tactics. Lots of players and staff will stop at nothing to get ahead.

I worry that what makes Finn a friendly person will also make him vulnerable, but as I watch him in practice now—talking up everyone and skating his heart out—I realize I underestimated him. It didn’t slip past me that he was acting protectively when we were being introduced around, subtly waiting for the others to greet me before he greeted them. I don’t know if he was doing it consciously, but I more than appreciated his support.

There’s more to Finn Baran than meets the eye.

Then again, I was just like him. I was so pumped my first year playing in the NHL that nothing could touch me. I’m only six years older than Finn, and yet it feels like I’ve aged about twenty years in the last month. My rose-colored visor is gone, smashed to bits, and reality is worse than I expected.

At least the atmosphere in the Rush training rink is alright. I get a couple of long stares from two of the players but nothing that sets off immediate alarm bells like it did in Chicago. I’m introduced to the rest of the coaching staff: Assistant Marley Laflore, one of Canada’s top professional women hockey players and only the second woman to hold such a position in this league; Assistant Forward Lance McBane; Assistant Defense Michael Lee; and the goalie coach, David Wittnauer.

Practice starts hard and doesn’t let up. After several sets of drills, we stop for a short break, and I gratefully chug down half a bottle of water in two gulps. I’m sweating like mad and not all of it’s because I’ve been working hard. Stress sweat is a real thing.

“Kirkland, Baran!” Coach Range calls out from across the ice. “Get over here.”

I chuck my bottle toward the bench and skate off to face Range. Coach’s expression is unreadable, and since I hardly know the guy, I have no idea what to expect. Finn skates up beside me and nudges my arm.

“I hope I’m not in trouble already,” he whispers.

“Doubtful.”

We join Range at center ice, and he greets us by crossing his arms.

“Yes, Coach?” I ask.

“I’ve talked to Laflore and Lee, and we’ve decided to pair you two up as defensive partners. Kirkland, you have the experience, and Baran, you’ve got the hunger that only newbies have. I think together, you could be great.”

I have no problem with Coach’s suggestion, but it makes me wonder, is this because he thinks we’ll work better together or because no one else on the team wants to be partnered with me? Fuck, I hate the fact that I’m doubting myself and my new coach. My poker face must be shit because when I glance at Range, he raises one eyebrow.

“All my decisions are based on analysis of skill,” Range adds. “Got it?”

“Yes, Coach,” I mutter.

“And I have a right to change my mind at any time. If I see issues with how you work together, and they don’t quickly resolve, I’ll make a switch.”

“We’ve got this, Coach,” Finn replies with a grin.

My teammate looks and sounds a lot more confident than me.

“Good.” Range nods. “Kirkland?”

“I’m in.”

“Okay, let’s try some drills that will test my theory.”