Page 67 of The Poster Boy
“You think she’ll know what that means?”
Kelsey responded almost immediately with a string of heart emojis and demands that I call her as soon as I could because she wanted details. I tipped my phone toward Jay so he could see.
“I think she gets it.” I got it too. I understood how fucking lucky I was to have gotten here. It hadn’t been an easy road to end up next to Jay Brookbank, his knee pressed against mine, his hand resting possessively on my thigh, but it had been worth every shitty moment. Every doubt and every stupid invasive interview question.
“There’s a big media gathering this summer after the regular season. Some kind of LGBTQ people in sports summit. I’ve been invited to participate. The goal is to bring awareness to some of the changes that need to happen in sports and sports culture to make it a more accepting environment. And I know you hate the media stuff.”
“I just hate how pushy they are. How all they care about is if you’re still dating that movie star asshole.”
I turned to face Jay, who clenched his jaw.
“Jay Brookbank, are you jealous?”
He answered with a stony silence, then a sigh. “Probably. But look, you’re a great goalie, and all the questions they’d ask you weren’t about the game half the time. It pisses me off. Like suddenly the most interesting thing about you is if you have a boyfriend or not.”
“Well, that’s why I want to do the summit. If I can drive some kind of change, I’d like to try. Besides, I am the poster boy. They need me there.”
“Can you bring a plus one?”
“You’d want to go with me?”
“Yeah, why not? I’m going to want to come out eventually, like officially and shit.”
“For real?” A new kind of hope bloomed in my chest. One for summer vacations on sandy beaches with just Jay and me and a couple of towels. Of lazy days and dinners out, and all the other things I’d never gotten to experience before.
“Yeah. For real.”
“You know, Jay, for a guy who's never had a boyfriend before, you’re doing a pretty good job so far. I’d give you at least an eight out of ten.”
“Only an eight? I’ll have to step up my game.” Jay squeezed my thigh and my heart did a little swooping motion, dipping down into my stomach to dance with the butterflies there.
“You’re doing fine. No rush.”
Church didn’t start in the game that night so I had to pull out a miracle and keep my eyes on the puck and not my boyfriend. When we won, and he was among the first to skate up to me and tap his helmet against mine, his smile had an extra twinkle to it. And while we kept our lovey-dovey shit, as Boone called it, to a minimum in the locker room after, Church and Boone had quickly played musical roommates so Jay and I could share and not traumatize them.
Jay unlocked our hotel room, and I followed him inside.
“It feels weird to not have to sneak around,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around Jay from behind. Burying my face in his neck, I took a deep breath. He smelled of soap and skin. We’d just gotten clean, but I wanted to dirty us up again.
“If you want, you can leave and roam around the hotel for a few minutes and pretend you’re sneaking in here.”
“Maybe there’s an unlocked supply cupboard we could make use of.” I slid my hands down his chest, not intending to go anywhere.
“That was really hot. I thought for sure we were going to get busted, though.” Jay tilted his head, giving me access to his neck. Permission granted, I kissed the delicate skin below his ear.
“I can’t believe you came out to the team for me.” Closing my eyes, I rested my forehead on Jay’s shoulder. He turned in my arms and wrapped his around my waist. Warm hands slid under my shirt, then down the back of my pants, cupping my bare ass.
“I want to be someone who deserves you.”
Pulling back, I looked at Jay.
“I want to be someone you’re proud to be with,” he continued. “Someone you don’t regret.”
My lips tugged themselves into a smile. “And you’re worried about being a good boyfriend? You really don’t need to be worried about that. You’re doing a hell of a good job so far.”
“Yeah?” Jay looked like a kid on Christmas. Like my approval was the gift he’d been waiting for. “Do I get a treat?”
Tilting my head, I pretended to think about it. “You get me.”
