I slash at my throat. “Dude. Don’t jinx the poor man.”
Half the room laughs, including Anton.
Then, totally casual like he’s done it a million times, Anton reaches for my hand. “Ignore my boyfriend. He’s the superstitious type.”
My eyes widen, but he keeps going.
“But I do know I wouldn’t be having such a great season if he wasn’t there on the ice with me.”
I don’t think this has ever happened before … but I’m completely speechless.
Thirty-Two
ANTON
I reach over and close Ezra’s mouth. “Don’t worry, he’s usually shocked into silence around me.”
There’re hesitant chuckles as my news seems to seep through the room. I hadn’t been planning on saying that, but a second before I said the word, it felt right.
And now it’s finally out there, just like I wanted it to be.
When I watched Caleb Sorenson and Ollie Strömberg address the media when they came out, I felt sorry for them. It felt like they’d been forced into letting people into a part of their lives that no one had business knowing, but now, sitting here myself, I don’t feel trapped.
I’m free.
“When did this start?” a reporter asks.
“It’s been a while now, but if you don’t mind, we’re keeping details of our relationship private.”
“Do you worry about how the relationship will affect your games?”
“I’m the highest point scorer this season, what do you think?”
“Does this mean you’re gay?” someone else asks.
“I am. I’m gay, Ez and I are together, and no matter what happens there, it isn’t going to impact our team. We’re both professionals who have a job to do, and nothing will change that.”
I keep expecting Ezra to jump in with a smartassed comment, but when I finally glance over at him, he’s sitting back watching me, soft smile on his face. It makes my heart flip for a second, and I badly want to reach for him, but even though I can now, even though people know about us, I do want things to stay private. Right now, we’re teammates. The second we’re off the clock, he’s my boyfriend, my partner in crime, the man who’s helping me discover a lot of things about myself.
“Given Ezra’s past history, fans will have a right to be worried that if there’s a breakup, the team will suffer.”
Before I can jump in and tell the guy to mind his business, Ezra leans forward. “It’s no secret I like to have fun, but rest assured Anton has that more than covered.”
I whack him lightly on the back of his head as he starts to laugh, and apparently that’s enough for Coach.
He stands. “If there’s no more questions about hockey, these two have a game to celebrate.”
Voices and questions start to fire at us, but Coach gestures for us to get up and leave. We follow him off the platform and out of the room, and the second we’re in private, he turns on us, hands on hips.
“You had to say that last thing, didn’t you, Palaszczuk?”
“I might be in a relationship, but I’m still the same guy. You really should have expected something like that.”
Coach sighs. “People are gonna be worried about you two breaking up when what they should be worried about is how big your damn egos will get when you’re spurring each other on.”
“Egos?” I pretend to be offended. “Would we call it an ego when it’s totally justified?”
“Don’t worry, babe,” Ezra says. “He’s jealous of how awesome and talented we are.”
Coach lets out a string of swear words and what sounds like a cry for help under his breath. “Go celebrate. And stay away from the media for a couple of days. They’ll be looking for you two.”
Ezra shrugs. “Apparently the way I want to celebrate was plan B … or C? And according to Anton, it can’t be done in public, so I think we’re going to head home.”
“Right-o. Good game tonight.”
“Thanks,” I say at the same time as Ezra says, “Duh.”
Coach throws his hands up and walks away.
I turn to Ezra. “You know, no matter what he says, I think you’ll always have me beat for being the most egotistical player in the NHL.”
“And the sexiest?”
“Nah, I have that tied up.”
He narrows his eyes, but then his gaze runs down my body. “Damn it, I think you’re right.”
I step closer and pull him into my arms, every muscle relaxing as he squeezes me back.
“I’m proud of you.”
I want to give him shit on reflex, but it’s nice to hear. “Thanks. It actually felt good.”
“You know what else feels good?” His hand trails down to grab my ass.
I laugh and pull back, then cup his face so I can kiss him. “We almost had a serious moment there, Ez.”
“I know, close call.”
“Appreciate it,” I say dryly. “But to risk being serious again for a second, you don’t know what it means that you were with me in there.”