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  Swanny chewed, nodded, sipped his coffee. “Think long and hard. Make sure you can live with the consequences of coming out. Do what’s best for you. I can’t tell you what that looks like. But, like I said, I’ll support you no matter what.”

  Chapter Eight

  The smell of coffee filtered into Tyson’s consciousness and he blinked awake. The cocoa-colored walls threw him for a moment, but he remembered dinner with Jonah and Ashley and too many shots because he’d been mooning over Semka too many weeks later. After a quick piss, he shuffled into the kitchen to find the usually happy couple looking a bit frazzled.

  Both heads turned his direction at his halt in the doorway.

  Ashley sat in a kitchen chair, feet tucked under her and cradling a cup of coffee. Jonah leaned against the sink, arms crossed. It wasn’t a major disagreement. Despite his foggy brain, Tyson could tell that much.

  “I can grab a cup of coffee and go back to bed for a bit?” Tyson asked.

  Both of them shook their heads. Jonah pulled Tyson’s favorite mug, a Snoopy head with a chipped nose, from the cabinet and held it out. “Come sit with us.”

  Tyson made his coffee. “How about I make breakfast?” Pancakes and bacon ought to dispel the vestiges of last night’s over-indulgence.

  “You don’t have to,” Ashley said with a sunny smile, “but I’d love you forever.”

  “Deal, although you’re gonna love me forever anyway.”

  “Truth.”

  Tyson knew their kitchen as well as he knew his own and pulled out eggs, bacon, and the pancake mix. He set the oven temperature and dug out bowls and skillets.

  Jonah refilled Ashley’s mug, then his own, and sat kitty corner from her at the rectangular wood table.

  “Ashley, babe, I absolutely want you to have your Vegas wedding. But that’s not what I want for my wedding.” Jonah slurped at his coffee. “What if we had both? What if we have a small, more traditional ceremony somewhere? With our families and our closest friends in attendance.”

  “I’m not opposed, but it’s gonna cost money to rent someplace, J,” Ashley said. “Money we’ve been saving for our honeymoon. This might be our only chance to go anywhere for a few years. I don’t want to skimp on that. Plus honeymoon.”

  By the sound of her voice, Tyson imagined waggling eyebrows to go along with the word honeymoon.

  “I don’t either.”

  For a few moments, the only sounds were Tyson preparing breakfast.

  “You know what we could do?” she asked softly, taking his hand.

  “What’s that?” he asked just as softly.

  The love between them was so palpable and wonderful and it hurt to watch right now. Tyson turned his back and riffled through the cabinet for cinnamon and vanilla. Parting ways with Semka had hurt. Tyson hadn’t expected to be utterly charmed by the man. He’d gone in with the mindset of their relationship being nothing more than a fling. Two people attracted to one another scratching an itch. It had become more than that and he’d failed to realize the change in his own feelings. He turned back to his pancake batter.

  “…three excursions during our honeymoon cruise,” Ashley was saying. “What if we dropped one of the excursions? The cost of any of ‘em would cover the cost of a small ceremony. We’d just have to decide which one to give up.”

  “Are you sure, Ash? All you’ve talked about for years is that cruise and those excursions. I don’t want that to be a sore spot between us down the road.”

  They came together, forehead to forehead. “Jonah, I love you more than life itself. More than some Alaskan cruise excursion. It’s your wedding day as much as it is mine and you have just as much right to the day you want as I do. So, yes, I’m sure.”

  * * * * *

  Tyson drove home in the Vegas spring sunshine feeling as gloomy as if dark clouds and rain had hovered over him for weeks. In the end, Ashley and Jonah had solved their predicament with a suggestion from Tyson. A backyard wedding funded by family and friends in lieu of wedding gifts. They may or may not have to give up that third excursion. If only Tyson’s quandary could be solved so easily.

  Semka couldn’t come out. If anyone understood the need to safeguard that kind of knowledge, Tyson did. But Tyson didn’t want to be in the closet, which, now that he thought about it—this situation didn’t require him to go back in it. No way he could, really. The cat was out of the bag—anyone who knew him well enough knew he was gay.

  Was he willing to keep a potential relationship with Semka secret for years if it lasted that long? That was the $64,000 question.

  * * * * *

  Semka paced as the phone rang.

  “Hello, Semyon,” answered his agent. “To what do I owe this pleasure? You’re one of my most low maintenance clients. Usually, I have to call you. Is something wrong?”

  Anxiety churned in Semka’s stomach. No matter how much he wanted to move forward, no matter how much support he had, he still didn’t know how Mike was going to react.

  He shuffled onto his balcony and surveyed Las Vegas from his perch on the fifteenth floor. If he did this. When he did this, Las Vegas… He inhaled and exhaled a huge breath. …America would be his home forever.

  “Semyon?”

  He took another deep breath. “Hello, Mike. Am gay and want to stop hiding.”

  The stunned silence lasted so long Semka thought that maybe the connection had died. He looked at his phone and saw the call timer ticking steadily higher. “Mike?”

  “Jesus, Semyon.” A heavy rush of breath floated from Semka’s cell phone. “You sure know how to surprise a guy.”

  “I know. Am sorry. Is just… I meet someone and he’s so nice. Treat me good and kind. But we can’t be together because he’s not in the closet. So we go separate ways.

  “I miss him a lot and think so hard about what I want from life. Want what many teammates have, so many other players. Want someone special, but all my life I have no one because hockey is homophobic and Russia is also.

  “Don’t want to live life alone and afraid anymore.”

  “Well, of course you don’t. What are you going to do about your family? About Russia?”

  A wounded sound escaped Semka and a little part of him shriveled up. By coming out, Semka was ensuring he could never go back home or play for his country in international competitions. By coming out, he was forcing his family to choose the Motherland or their son. He’d thought of nothing else for days, waffling back and forth.

  A phone call from his parents had come shortly after he’d made up his mind and he’d almost changed it. The derision in his mother’s voice as she’d ranted about some gay European pop star and how he should be vilified horrified Semka.

  Despite the lies and hate that filled her on this topic so near and dear to Semka’s heart, she was a good woman; she was a loving mother. Just brainwashed.

  As much as Semka sometimes, most times, hated the American press, he appreciated free speech and freedom of the press. Americans had access to all points of view, could make up their own minds, and weren’t subject to the constant proselytization of the State.

  He loved his parents, his sisters, and he didn’t want to lose them.

  He’d gone back and forth so many times. Until a news segment on a large, ebullient, but ultimately non-violent and orderly pride parade somewhere in Florida had contrasted so sharply with the report from St. Petersburg those many weeks ago and Semka’s resolve solidified.

  Accepting that his parents would disown him had been the hardest part of this decision. Losing his country was still a factor, but he liked America enough that staying after his career was over had been humming in the background for a while anyway. Ultimately, he wanted a life and a partner. That meant staying in the United States. He hoped his parents could overcome their homophobia, would accept things secretly, even if they couldn’t accept him publicly. It was a chance he had to take. He needed more from life. Wanted more.

  “Will talk to Darya. Only she know.
But my parents, they probably have to disavow me even if they be okay with my choice. Russia will fine me. Arrest me if I go back. So…”

  “Jesus, Semyon. I know you’re sure. But are you really sure?”

  In the background, Semyon heard the pop of a soda can and then drinking. Mike was a recovering alcoholic and was probably guzzling ginger ale to soothe the ulcer Semka had just given him.

  “Sorry for make your life hell.”

  “Christ, no, Semyon. Just no. First of all, you pay me a lot of money to handle these kinds of things. Second of all, confidentiality and all that, this isn’t anywhere close to the worst thing I’ve had to deal with. Third of all, it’s not about me. And fourth of all, your life is going to change. And not for the better, not for a while. You realize that?”

  Semka hummed his agreement. “Yes. But living truth.” Swanny had mentioned the concept to him once. “Living free has to be better at some point, no?”

  Mike sighed. “Of course it does, Semyon. Of course it does. Have you thought about how you want to proceed?”

  They talked for another hour. Semka collapsed in a lounger on his balcony, emotionally exhausted. The sounds of the city drifted on the evening air. The kaleidoscope of evening colors painted the sky. His head hurt, his heart hurt, his stomach hurt. None of this was going to be easy. But he believed that, eventually, it would all be worth it. He hoped it would all be worth it.

  Chapter Nine

  Tyson rang Semka’s doorbell and waited. His stomach rumbled at the rich scent of kotleti—his favorite Russian dish—and pelmeni—Semka’s favorite from the Russian restaurant—wafting up from the bag he carried.

  His decision had taken him a long week of contemplation. He’d hemmed and hawed, but kept coming to the same conclusion. He wanted Semka in his life. Fantastic sex aside, Tyson missed Semka’s charming personality and his caring nature. No matter what they’d done while together, there was an ease and a comfort that Tyson hadn’t known existed until it didn’t anymore. He missed the feeling of well-being and serenity that came with being with someone you clicked with. He and Semka had clicked.

  Ashley and Jonah’s love for one another and their willingness to put the good of their relationship before their individual wants had made an impression. Choosing to keep a relationship between him and Semka on the DL wasn’t compromising his personal principles. It was just that—a choice to protect Semka if Tyson wanted to be with him. Which he did.

  The door swung open and there stood Semka, hair mussed and wearing his rattiest comfy clothes. An immediate feeling of happiness came over Tyson.

  Semka’s eyebrows arched over his soulful gray eyes. “Um, hi. What you doing here?”

  Nerves made Tyson drop the bag of food. He snatched it up and held it out. “Have you eaten?”

  With a shake of his head, Semka stepped backwards. “Good timing. Come.”

  They ate side by side on the large leather couch with a hockey game playing on the big screen. When they were both done, Semka muted the game. He shifted to face Tyson. “Glad to see you, but why you come? Why you not out finding hot guy to take home?”

  Tyson smiled wryly as he mirrored Semka’s pose. “Because I missed you and I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Miss you too. Very much.”

  “I know I said I wasn’t going back in the closet for anyone and I meant it.”

  “Okay… We part ways already.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I miss you.”

  “You say already.” Semka’s big eyes, so pretty and so open gave Tyson the impetus he needed.

  He wanted to look into those eyes every day. “Life without you has been off, unfulfilling, dreary. I don’t want our relationship to be over. And I’m okay with it being a secret—except from Ashley and Jonah if you can live with that.”

  Semka’s eyes widened. “Wow. Is big step. You say how much hiding hurt you when you’re younger. Why you do this for me?”

  “I want to be with you and I realized I wouldn’t really be hiding myself. I mean, I’m gay and everyone knows it. There’s no putting that genie back in the bottle.

  “But life without you in it isn’t the same and keeping our relationship secret to protect you is different from hiding who I am and I’m willing to do it to have you in my life.”

  “Willing not same as happy.”

  “You’re right. The only reason I didn’t say happy is because not being able to show my affection towards you to the world makes me sad. I want to show you off, show us off, and we can’t, and I get it. Being with you, keeping you safe from censure, that I’m happy to do.”

  Semka tugged him for a kiss. Tyson had missed those molasses kisses, slow and sweet.

  “Funny you here...”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, you decide is okay to have secret relationship. I decide to not hide anymore. Not much anyway. Few guys on team know now.”

  Tyson felt as if he could fly right now. “Oh my God, that’s amazing and brave and I’m so excited for you. How do you feel?”

  “Good. Nervous. But is nice not keeping part of myself such big secret from everyone. Feel lighter, can breathe. You know.”

  Tyson nodded and hugged him close. “I do know.” Tyson took Semka’s hands again. God, Tyson loved this man. And—

  Oh, shit.

  “Um…” Tyson pulled back and pointed toward the hall. “I need to use the restroom.”

  He jumped up before Semka could say a thing and shut the bathroom door with exaggerated softness.

  The man in the mirror was the same guy that had been looking back at him since he got to Vegas. That had looked at him a mere two hours ago after he’d showered.

  Somewhere along the way, that man had fallen in love with the sweet, sweet hockey player in the other room and hadn’t even realized it. Which might have been more of a factor in his decision than he thought.

  He pushed off the vanity and ran his hands through his hair. What the fuck was he going to do? Say? It was way too soon to declare undying love. Semka had so much life to live and maybe they weren’t meant to be together forever.

  Tyson splashed cold water on his face, patted it dry, and returned to the living room, heart hammering. “Sorry.” He sat down. “I’m sorry.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Not even close. “Yeah.”

  By unspoken agreement they shifted and Tyson pulled Semka into a cuddle. This closeness was just one of the many things he’d missed. He kissed the top of Semka’s head, trailed his fingers up and down Semka’s arm before twining their fingers together. “Not hiding is a huge decision. What brought it about?”

  “All the years, seeing teammates with girlfriends and wives, it make me sad that I can’t have too, but I don’t really know. Never have until we together. I know it’s not real, know it’s just temporary, but us together feels like I’m alive for first time. So I’m think about my life. What I’m want. Hockey is so important, but it not everything, right?”

  “No it’s not everything.” Tyson tightens his arms around Semka.

  * * * * *

  Semka skated to the boards, one eye on the door at the curve of the ice. Tyson fell in line as the ice crew began clearing the ice. Tyson arced around the corner and along the boards, headed toward the benches.

  Semka milled around with a couple of guys, half listening to the chatter. He met Tyson’s gaze and grinned.

  “Sweet goal, babe,” Tyson murmured, just loud enough for the three of them to hear before he poked his tongue into his cheek and waggled his eyebrows.

  Swanny chuckled.

  Yartzy hooted and said, “Someone’s gettin’ some tonight.”

  Semka blushed to his roots. He couldn’t believe this was now his life. If someone had told him at the beginning of the season that he’d share his secret and end up with a boyfriend by the end of it, he’d have laughed. If someone told him he’d be getting teased about getting laid and those people knew he was getting laid by
a man, he’d have said never in this lifetime.

  But here he was. Back to playing hockey. Out to a few select people. The world hadn’t ended. He hadn’t lost any teammates. He had a boyfriend.

  Life was good. So very good.

  Epilogue

  Tyson made one last round of Ashley and Jonah’s backyard. The lattice-work arch was in place, festooned with pale yellow and dark purple ribbons, chairs were set, as was a white runner for the bride to walk down. It was a tick after six a.m., but Tyson couldn’t sleep. His two best friends were getting married and he couldn’t be happier.

  He sat in the last row on the aisle and sipped coffee from his Snoopy mug. A cheery breeze rustled the trees and the ends of the ribbons fluttered merrily.

  It was six months to the day since he took Semka to bed for the first time. It was two months since he’d realized he was in love with his hot hockey player. The last few weeks had been almost non-stop wedding preparations and his head had swirled with what ifs and the lure of happily ever after, but neither he nor Semka had said the L word yet.

  Of course, the Gamblers had made the playoffs and Semka had been singularly focused on hockey, but they’d lost in the second round and on his request, Tyson had mostly left Semka to his own devices to lick his wounds and take care of all his end-of-season responsibilities. Tyson completed his coursework for the semester and jumped into wedding planning with Jonah, while Ashley finished her own classes and prepared for graduation.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Tyson jerked hard and coffee sloshed over Snoopy’s nose and down his hand. He peered over his shoulder at Jonah who descended the deck stairs. “Jesus, you startled me.”

  “Sorry…” Jonah sat next to him, rubbing his eyes. “It’s early, why are up?”

  “I don’t know.” Tyson wiped his hand on his shorts.

  Jonah took Snoopy and slurped at Tyson’s coffee, making a too-sweet moue as he swallowed. “Ugh.”