Page 61 of Hold the Line

I make a small hand gesture with my thumb and forefinger, indicating ‘a little.’ Zara rubs her temples like we are personally aging her ten years. “Great. Just great. Fifteen minutes, gentlemen. Try to keep him conscious until then.”

She turns on her heel and walks out, muttering something about “hockey players and their inability to keep it in their pants.” The locker room is quiet for half a second before it erupts again — Shane is howling with laughter, Elias is trying to look professional while clearly dying inside, and Mats is grinning like he just won the lottery.

Cole is still giggling to himself, leaning back against the wall with that dreamy, medicated smile. I walk over and gently help him stand, keeping a steady hand on his back as he sways a little. “Come on, soroka. Let’s get this over with.”

He leans into me, still grinning. “You gonna hold my hand in the meeting, big guy?”

I sigh, but I do not let go of him as we head toward Damian’s office.

Zara leans against the desk with her arms crossed. “The best move is to stay low for a bit. No public appearances as a couple. No more… incidents. Let the rumors die down naturally while we control the narrative with a short, professional statement.”

Cole immediately shakes his head, stubborn as ever. “No way. I’m not hiding. I’m not staying low. People already know something is going on. I’m not pretending Viktor is just my teammate. That’s bullshit.”

The argument escalates quickly. Zara’s patience is clearly wearing thin as she gestures sharply. “This is damage control, Cole. You cannot just go public with ‘yeah, I was on my knees in an elevator’ energy and expect it to go well. We need to be smart about this.”

Cole crosses his arms, wincing a little at the pull on his ribs. “I’m not ashamed. I’m not hiding. Viktor is my boyfriend. End of story. If people have a problem with it, they can deal with it.”

Damian looks like he wants to beat both of them with his cane. He is rubbing his temple with one hand, the other gripping the cane so tight his knuckles are white. “Both of you, enough. We need a statement that acknowledges the relationship without giving the media more ammunition. Something simple. Professional.”

Zara throws her hands up. “Professional? With him making heart eyes at Viktor every five seconds and Viktor looking like he wants to throw anyone who looks at Cole wrong through a wall? Good luck with that.”

I lean forward slightly, calm but firm as I cut through the argument. “Cole is right. We should not hide. The rumors are already there. Pretending otherwise will only make the rumors worse. We acknowledge the relationship. We control the narrative. But we do not apologize for it.”

The room goes silent for a beat. Zara stares at me like I have lost my mind, eyes wide behind her sharp eyeliner. Damian raises an eyebrow, but there is a hint of approval in his expression. Cole turns to me, his hand squeezing mine under the table.

Zara opens her mouth, then closes it again, clearly recalibrating. “You… want to go public? Fully?”

“Yes,” I say simply. “Cole is not a secret. He never should have been.”

Damian looks at all of us with that no-nonsense coach glare. “If people can be fine with me and Elias being a couple — and married, at that — they can be fine with this too. Just make sure Cole does not come out as a damn whore on public television. Keep it classy. A simple statement. Relationship confirmed. Private life is private. End of story.”

The tone of the meeting shifts. Zara starts typing on her tablet, the fight draining out of her as she drafts something more balanced. Cole leans into my side, clearly relieved. I keep my hand on his, thumb stroking over his knuckles. We are doing this. No more hiding.

Zara eventually leaves the office muttering to herself about how Damian should give her a raise for dealing with all of us. The door clicks shut behind her, and suddenly it is just the three of us again — Damian, Cole, and me.

Damian leans back in his chair, studying us both with that sharp, knowing look. “Are you two sure about this?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation, my hand still holding Cole’s under the table.

Damian looks at me, scanning my face the way he has been doing almost every day since the hospital. I am sure he suspects what I did to my father. He has always been able to read me better than most. But he does not say anything. He never does. He just nods once, like he has decided to let it be.

“Alright. Cole, how are the ribs?” Damian asks, shifting the conversation.

“Oh, amazing!” Cole says brightly. “Can I play now?”

Both Damian and I glare at him at the same time. Cole shrinks back a little, but the grin on his face does not fade.

“Absolutely not,” I say firmly. “It’s barely been a few days, not even a week since the hospital. You are not playing until you are fully healed.”

“But daaaadddy!” Cole whines, dragging the word out in that dramatic, playful way that always makes my chest tighten.

Damian leans forward as he looks straight at Cole. “Hollywood, you do not want to end up like me.” He waves his cane in Cole’s face to make the point, the scarred wood cutting through the air like a warning.

Cole huffs, crossing his arms over his chest even though it clearly hurts his ribs. “That’s so different, though… sir.”

“Sure, it is,” Damian says, not backing down. “But if you do not wait for the recovery to be over and you go back on the ice too soon, the next time someone slams you into the boards, we are going to have a very early retirement conversation.”

It clearly works. The look on Cole’s face is pure terror and outrage at the mere idea of retirement. His eyes go wide, mouth opening and closing like he cannot quite find the words. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. He looks like someone just threatened to take away his favorite toy — which, in a way, they did.