Page 47 of Brace and Chase

Of course, the ugly shit is Gab trying to get me off the team and not just coming out and saying it... There’s a lot there, starting with the fact that as my employer, she knows about the process I went through during the off season. Her knowledge of that makes it all worse I think. But in the end what matters is that she didn’t come tometo talk about it. She went behind my back.

It’s unfortunate that she chose Charlie for this task, but then again, with no better defenseman in the league, where the fuck else was she supposed to go?

Instead of focusing more on that—who wants to have such depressing thoughts?—after making a huge list of questions in my head, I decide to bite the bullet and get up to go get my tablet.

I do a search for the most pressing one.

What does demi mean?

I get two very unhelpful results for the literal definition, so I add aqueerto the search and there I go down a rabbit hole.

Demisexual and demiromantic.

Who the fuck knew there were so many options?

The longer I read, though, the deeper my frown gets.

I don’t think I’m demisexual or demiromantic. I’ve sleptwith plenty of women who I wasn’t even remotely emotionally attached to. I even had a girlfriend once, when I was still a teenager, and looking back I didn’t even like her. She had this attitude where she hated everything first and asked questions later.

Soooo that’s not me.

I keep reading but nothing seems to fit. If all the times I remembered the kiss tonight are anything to go by, I definitely want to explore that with Charlie a little more, but I’m clearly not bi since Sterling is probably every bi person’s wet dream.

He doesn’t do it for me.

So, why does Charlie?

Is it because I hate him and it’s kind of, I don’t know...wrongto want him? Is that the lightswitch that turns on my queerness?

Whatever it is, if I want to get any answers on the matter, I’m going to have to kiss him again. But I don’t really want to kiss him again. I don’t want to needhimto figure myself out.

Putting the team aside—since this has nothing to do with the Pirates—I still fucking hate him. He’s still a piece of shit deep down.

Tomorrow I’m going to go to work with him, and I’m going to play nice, and hopefully Laney puts us back into our lines in time for the game, but other than that, I don’t owe him anything.

With that, I force myself to go to sleep, and like a goodboy, I say good morning to Charlie when I find him in the kitchen drinking a protein shake. I say yes and thank you when he offers me one, and then spend the drive to the rink in silence.

I get a taste of what team life has been like for Charlie when all the guys frown at the both of us when we step into the locker room.

Seems like they’re done with my shit now.

Honestly, I can’t blame them. If it had been any of them, I’d... No, I’d have still had their backs, but they’re my whole world, and I understand I’m not theirs—I don’t blame them for that.

We suit up for the light practice in silence, and when we’re about done Laney comes in.

“Oy,” he shouts. “Heart, Brotnik, you’re not practicing. You’re off the ice for the duration. Everyone else, move your fucking asses.”

My whole body deflates. They’re not even going to let us fucking practice?

Part of me wants to haul ass to Gab’s office, and if she’s not here I’ll hunt her down through all of Vegas. I want to find out what the hell she was thinking, why she wants me out, and what she plans to do with me now that I know about her little plan.

Instead I lock eyes with Charlie.

He looks resigned, sad, and scared.

Against my better judgement, I pat him on the shoulder as I toe off my skates and put my gym shoes back on.

“Let’s go watch practice regardless,” I tell him quietly. He nods and I give him a minute to do as I did. In that minute I catch Jules’s eyes and he just raises an eyebrow at me. I shrug, not knowing what else I can do at the moment.

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