Page 45 of The Official Problem
Cole was right. Kieran knew he was. One photo of Matthieu sneaking into his hotel room, and the hockey world would implode, taking both their careers with it.
“There are a million guys out there who’d treat you right, Kieran—and I’m sure plenty of them could provide…”
“Incredible, mind-blowing sex?”
“That. You’re a great guy, Kieran. You’ll make someone really happy someday—but make sure that lucky guy makes you just as happy.” Cole didn’t say theor else,but Kieran heard it regardless.
This might’ve been the longest serious conversation they’d ever had without Kieran cracking a joke or saying something self-deprecating. He flipped his hand over and squeezed Cole’s palm once before sliding it back off the table.
“I’m going to grab a coffee, and then we can take care of those papers you brought me to sign.”
He stood, tapped his knuckles once on the table, whispered “Thank you,” and scurried off before Cole could catch how misty his eyes had gone.
At 9 a.m. on a Thursday, in the press room at TD Garden, Louis Kessler told the world he was gay, and no one batted an eye.
This is how coming out should be, Kieran thought.
Well, it shouldn’t have to be a thing at all, but being met with acceptance and respect, especially in a town like Boston, was a win for all queer players. Cole had handled everything perfectly, and Louis had been on his best behavior, too. The long exhale the kid let out as he stepped off the stage and took his first steps as an out-and-proud gay man was a memory Kieran would treasure for years to come.
“How does it feel?” he asked as Louis finally managed to extract himself from his sobbing mother, who’d also made the trip for the occasion. The two were practically carbon copies, right down to the identical dimples on their left cheeks as they gazed at each other with matching adoration.
“About a hundred pounds lighter. I didn’t realize how much keeping this part of me a secret was weighing me down. I… I…” He suddenly looked bashful. “Thank you for helping make this possible, Kieran.”
“Oh, well, I just gave you a phone number. Cole did all the work setting it up, and you were the brave one…”
“No, Kieran. Thank you for showing me it’s possible to be queer and play hockey at a professional level. For paving the way for me and all the other kids like me, who are trying to get drafted. You have no idea how much it means to have a role model like you. Watching you be openly yourself and still dominate on the ice changed the entire trajectory of my life.”
That was, well, a lot. Kieran rarely found himself speechless, but now, he was.
“Anytime, kid.”
Louis groaned. “Kid,” he whined, “I guess that answers whether you’d let me take you out on a date sometime?” Kieran must’ve looked completely panicked, because Louis quickly added, “Dude, I’m kidding. I like my men way older than you.”
“Don’t let Cole hear you say that.”
Louis glanced around, clearly looking for the man himself. “I was actually hoping he would.”
With that, Kieran walked away, smiling to himself and feeling all kinds of smug. He hoped Cole knew what he was getting into with that one.
SEVENTEEN
MATTHIEU
December 2023 - Newark
The blare of a phone woke Matthieu from a very good dream. An insatiable Kieran had him pinned to a locker room shower wall, the two of them rutting like horny teenagers. The memory of Kieran’s wet skin, the steam thick in the cubicle, the build of his orgasm rising higher and higher—it all felt too real.
Because it had been. Real. A memory. A little flashback to a time before all the bullshit tore them apart. A simpler time, just two boys falling head over heels, whispering forever and always into each other’s mouths like either of them actually meant it.
Except Matthieu had meant it.
He rolled over to check the time and missed call, groaning when his phone said it was barely past 6 a.m. He’d officiated back-to-back games the last three nights, and this was the first morning in weeks when he had truly nowhere to be. Sure, he’d have to hit the gym at some point, but with the Inferno flying in late from an eight-day road trip, the coast was clear for whenever.
After what felt like the longest eight days in recorded history, he found himself caring less than he probably should about apotential Kieran run-in. In fact, he craved it. He wondered if Kieran would think he’d been keeping tabs on the schedule if he texted to hook up tonight after he got back. Of course, that was exactly what he’d been doing. Kieran couldn’t know that.
The phone rang again. Julie’s name and smiling face lit up the screen. The photo was from the summer, not long before she’d left for Paris. The dark hair she shared with Matthieu, from their mother, was tied in a messy knot on top of her head. Her glowing, tanned skin—darker than his—came from her father, who’d stuck around for even less time than Matthieu’s.
Apparently, his mother and her moods weren’t compatible with healthy, lasting relationships. Matthieu, most days, felt cursed to the same fate.
