Page 84 of These Wicked Games
My eyes narrow. “Like . . . in your mustache, because you’re bal—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Olihisses.
Okay, enough tiptoeing. “I’m gay, Coach. If that’s a problem—”
“Will you shut, the fuck, up,” he growls at me. Taking a deep breath, he stands, bracing his hands on the desk. “I don’t give a shit where either of you stick your dicks as long as it’s consensual and safe.” That surprises me. “We should have known, though. Don’t act ignorant, Kuli. You know how the media works. They’re like vultures just waiting to dive onto any scraps they can.”
“I was stalked on my fucking property!” he growls.
Coach nods, sitting down and dropping back in his seat. “I know, and we will handle that. I want to know how someone even got close enough to your house to do this, and once we find out who did it they’ll wish they hadn’t.”
“What do you need from us?”
“The other guys will be in soon, for practice before the game. I’m going to be honest; I don’t know what to do. On the one hand I agree, it’s no one’s business, but we’d be stupid to believe it’s not going to be on people’s minds tonight.”
“We’re going to lose fans,” Oli says.
Coach taps his desk for a moment, then nods. “We will. Then again, we may also gain fans, and I would rather have them than ignorant dickheads who think someone’s sexuality is wrong or has anything to do with their ability to play a fuckin’ sport,” he says bluntly. “Jessica, do you think we should make a statement before the game?”
Looking surprised, she passes her eyes over us all. “Honestly, no. I don’t think we should. At least not before the game. In fact, whether you two want to make an official statement at all is up to you. This is your lives, and I can’t tell either of you what the right or wrong way to go about it is. Go with your gut, whatever feels rightto you both. You’ve already been forced out of the closet, which is wrong, and I know a lot of people will feel that way. Both of you should be able to make whatever choice you feel comfortable with.”
That doesn’t feel like enough, but I look over at Oli who still looks like he’s contemplating the world’s problems and how to solve them all in just hours before our game practice. I just need to know we’re okay. I need to know he’s not going to leave me. I need him.
Fuck, I may even love him.
That realization hits, and it feels like I’m being torn open as I sit in this chair, silently bleeding, hoping Oli will notice. “I don’t want to make a statement before the game,” he says finally, and it hits with the force of an eighteen-wheeler. He’s probably right, though. If we make a statement beforehand, all people will focus on is that and not the game. Finally he looks over at me, and I can’t help but melt in the softness of those blue eyes as they hold mine. I want to pull him in and kiss him. I want him to stop the doubts that are swirling in my brain. I want Oli to silence it all, but instead he smiles and it’s like putting a kids Barbie bandage on a gaping wound.
It'll have to do for now.
“Melanie is going to focus on the breach of privacy. We’ve already made a statement about that, and the legal action we’ll take for stalking our athletes. The rest is up to you both,” Jessica says.
“Whatever happens going forward,” Coach says. “We all support you, but it’s not going to be easy.” I almost snort. Easy has never been a word I’ve associated with living anyway. “People are dicks. I can’t speak for the rest of the guys, but as far as I’mconcerned this means nothing to me. Just a shock. When I ask you both to talk to me about shit like this, it’s not because I’m a nosy bastard. It’s so that when the time comes I can back you one hundred percent and not be blindsided. Understood?”
“Yes. I understand.” Oli nods.
All of this is making me itchy. It’s pissing me off. Jessica’s right. What that gossip dickhead did was horrible. They outed us without our permission. They stole that from us both. “Understood.” Oli stands, waiting for me to follow. While we tentatively have Coach’s blessing, I know this day has only just begun. There’s a shitstorm ahead, I just know it. On top of everything else we have an away game against the Vipers in two days.
I go to follow Oli out, ready to dress and get this day over with. “Oh, and boys . . .” We both turn, looking at Coach. “No fucking in my locker room.”
A grin spreads on my face. “Oh.” I click my tongue. “Bout that, Coach—” Oli grabs the back of my neck, steering me out of the room while I laugh.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” he growls, forcing me out of Coach’s office. I pull out of his hold, smiling. My fingers itch to slip inside his, but this is not the time or place, and picturing Oli holding hands with me is too funny to think about. “Are you okay?”
I stop. He steps in front of me, and it takes everything in me not to pull him to me. “I think so.” I look away. “As long as we are.”
Oli steps closer, and I look down the empty hall. “We’re okay. I meant it, Dre. I’m not going anywhere this time. We’re in this together. I’m not running,zayka.”
“I’m going to ask Viktor what that means, and if it’s bad, my ass is off the table for a month.”
He snorts. “Yeah, sure thing.”
Asshole. A soft smile springs to my lips, though. I feel fucking giddy. Everything may be crashing down around us, but I have him and that’s more than enough. “What should we do now?”
Oli looks to our right, then to our left, then presses a quick kiss to my lips. I barely have time to feel it before he pulls away. “We play the season of our fucking lives.”
It’s something, coming into a locker room with men you share almost every day with. You joke, you talk shit, and they’re your brothers in a way.
Well, until you’re outed by kissing your captain who you’ve been aggressively fucking for months. Well, they don’t know that, but it’s implied. Oli walks in first and the locker room falls silent. He glares at them all and the tension snaps, and most everyone returns to acting normal. Grey and Atlas, of course—and surprisingly, Ryker—stand right by us.
