Page 54 of Role Model

“I am not most hockey players.” There was an edge to Ilya’s tone. “And I have not ever said I was straight.”

Troy stopped walking. “What?”

Ilya turned back to face him. “People assume things. They are idiots. Dallas Kent said something hateful about something that is—about something he does not know anything about.”

“That’s sort of his whole deal, yeah.”

There was a visible tightness to Ilya’s jaw, and anger burned in his eyes. “People like Kent stand in the way of other people being happy. For no reason. I am always glad to punch people like that.”

Troy wanted to throw his arms around him. It was a wild, ridiculous impulse, like when he’d wanted to kiss Harris in his truck the other night. Why had Troy wasted so much energy on the worst people?

“Can you keep a secret?” Troy hadn’t even realized he was asking the question before the words were out, hanging between them with their clouds of breath on a Manhattan sidewalk.

Ilya’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Yes. Very well.”

Troy’s heart pounded against his ribs. He might throw up. Or he might collapse. But he was going to say these words, dammit. “I’m gay.”

For a moment, Ilya didn’t react. He just surveyed Troy calmly. Then he said, “You have not told anyone.”

“Not really, no.”

Ilya tilted his head in the direction they needed to go and resumed walking. Troy fell into step beside him.

“That must have been very hard. In Toronto,” Ilya said.

“It wasn’t easy.”

“I’m sorry.” They walked a few more steps, and Ilya brightened and said, “Was that your first gay bar?”

“Yeah, it was.”

Ilya burst out laughing. “Incredible.”

Troy shook his head, but the absurdity of the whole night hit him all at once, and he started laughing too.

“What did you think?” Ilya asked.

“It had more NHL players than I was expecting.”

Ilya’s laugh was a high, delirious-sounding giggle that only made Troy laugh harder.

“But it was okay?” Ilya asked, more seriously despite his grin.

“It was okay,” Troy assured him. “I liked it. Maybe I’ll even go to another one someday.”

Ilya’s smiled faded. “It would be okay, I think, if you told the rest of this team. When you are ready.”

“I know. I don’t know if I want to, though.”

Ilya nodded. “I can understand that very well.”

“I’m not really into that kind of attention. So I probably won’t tell anyone.”

“There is someone you would like to tell, though, yes?”

Ilya’s teasing smile had returned. How the fuck did he know? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay.” Another few steps, and Ilya said, “Is very normal for an NHL player to spend most of his free time in the social media guy’s office.”

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