Puckless (Hockey Heroes Book 1), page 19
“Me too,” I admitted. “But we’re in this together, remember?”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “Together.”
Sitting in the green room, waiting for my cue to step onto the stage, I focused on Ethan. His fingers tapped anxiously on his knees, and I reached out to still them, intertwining our hands.
“Remember, this is your story,” I told him quietly. “If they call you onto the set, you’re in control.”
“Thank you, Ryan,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. “For everything.”
I smiled at him, my hand still firmly holding his. “We’re changing the game, Ethan. Together.”
With that thought echoing in my mind, I stepped onto the stage to join the morning hosts, ready to face whatever came next.
THIRTY-ONE
ETHAN
“He’s an esteemed sports journalist focusing on hockey based right here in Madison—please welcome our next guest, Ryan Parker!” The Madison Morning hosts’ voices boomed, announcing Ryan’s entrance onto the set. From the green room, I observed through closed-circuit television, my heart pounding in my chest.
The set was an explosion of warm colors and soft textures. It included plush armchairs, a loveseat, a cozy rug, and potted plants adorning every corner. The two hosts, Lila and Jack, wore bright smiles, their faces meticulously made up for the cameras. Lila’s auburn hair framed her face like a halo, while Jack’s slicked-back silver locks exuded a distinguished air.
“Ryan, it’s great to have you here,” Lila said, extending her hand for a shake. “We’re always excited to discuss hockey and its role in our culture. Up here in the northern tier of the Midwest, we are a winter sports state.”
“Thanks for having me, Lila,” Ryan replied, his green eyes sparkling under the studio lights.
Taking shallow breaths, I clung to the edge of my chair, bracing myself for what was to come. The anticipation gnawed at my insides, making my heart race.
“Let’s talk about hockey,” Jack began, turning his attention to Ryan. “You’ve recently written an extensive article on the subject of diversity in the sport, having covered the game for quite some time now. What are your thoughts on the current state of hockey?”
“A great question, Jack,” Ryan responded, leaning forward. “I believe progress has been made, but plenty of work remains to be done. Take the Madison Mitts, for example. The players come from diverse backgrounds. Two excellent examples are Marek, who hails from Czechia, and Nate, who has family from Puerto Rico. They’re extraordinary players, and their diverse backgrounds only enhance the richness and complexity of our team.”
“Exactly,” Lila chimed in. “But what about increasing racial diversity within the sport?”
“That’s crucial,” Ryan agreed. “Promoting equity and diversity in the sport must begin from the ground up. We must invest in exposing young fans to the sport, providing them with the necessary equipment and support to play the game. That’s how we’ll transform hockey into a truly inclusive sport.”
Clammy hands and a racing pulse accompanied my anxious state. In a matter of minutes, I was likely to be joining Ryan, sharing a part of myself I had concealed for far too long. Yet, I couldn’t allow fear to hinder my progress. The moment extended beyond just me.
“Ryan, thank you for your insights,” Jack acknowledged with a nod. “We’ll continue this conversation after a short break.”
As the cameras shifted away from the set to allow a commercial break, I inhaled deeply, preparing for the forthcoming challenge. With Ryan at my side, I knew I could confront any obstacle. Perhaps, just perhaps, our story would ignite a transformative change within the realm of hockey—and beyond.
“Hey, Jack, Lila,” Ryan began during the break, his voice confident but not pushy. “I have a suggestion for another aspect of diversity we could discuss on the show.”
“Go on,” Lila encouraged, her eyes alight with curiosity.
“Right here in the studio is my boyfriend, Ethan Underwood. I’m sure you’re familiar with him—a professional hockey player, the captain of our beloved Madison Mitts.” Ryan glanced back at me through the small window separating the green room from the set, and my heart skipped a beat. This was it. There was no turning back now.
“Of course, we’ve heard of him,” Jack replied, his curiosity piqued. “What’s your angle—did you say, boyfriend?”
“Here’s the thing—Ethan is ready to come out as gay publicly. It would be an exclusive for your show, and it perfectly aligns with our discussion on diversity.”
“Wow,” Lila murmured, exchanging a glance with Jack. “We’ve never had something like that happen on the show.”
While watching the TV screen, I clenched and unclenched my hands.
“It sounds like he has a captivating story to tell,” Jack remarked.
“So that’s a yes?” Ryan inquired.
“It’s quite an opportunity. We’re definitely interested,” Lila confirmed.
“Great,” Ryan said, flashing me a reassuring smile. “Let’s bring him out when we return from the break.”
As the seconds ticked down to the end of the commercial break, my chest tightened, and my breaths grew shallow. However, I couldn’t let the moment overwhelm me. Countless young athletes needed role models like me to look up to, and I owed it to them to share my truth.
“Deal,” Jack nodded, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “Let’s do this.”
Exhaling slowly, my heart pounding like the flutter of the wings of a caged bird, I knew that this was the moment I had both feared and yearned for. My secret would finally be laid bare, and there would be no turning back.
“Welcome back, Madison Morning viewers!” Lila announced with enthusiasm as the show resumed. “We have a surprise for you all. Joining us on the set now is Ethan Underwood, team captain of the Madison Mitts and boyfriend of our guest, Ryan Parker.”
I drew a deep breath, feeling my legs tremble as I rose from the couch in the green room. My palms were slick with sweat, but I balled them into fists, gathering strength from the surging sense of anticipation that consumed me. With each step towards the set, the weight of my secret seemed to lighten, replaced by an exhilarating feeling of freedom.
As I turned the corner onto the brightly lit set, I locked eyes with Ryan. His smile became a lifeline amid my swirling emotions. Rising from the loveseat, he opened his arms wide, and I strode toward him, embracing him tightly. The warmth of his body against mine, the familiar scent of his light cologne, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat anchored me.
“Hey,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. “You’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, pulling back and offering him a grateful smile. Together, we settled onto the loveseat, our knees brushing against each other as we faced the curious gazes of Lila and Jack.
“Welcome, Ethan,” Lila greeted warmly, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. “We’re honored to have you here today. How are you feeling?”
“Thank you, Lila,” I replied, a small smile forming. “I’m a bit nervous, but I understand the importance of this moment.”
“Absolutely,” she agreed, nodding sympathetically. “So, tell us—what made you decide to come out publicly on our show?”
I glanced at Ryan, drawing strength from his unwavering support before returning my attention to Lila. “Well, Ryan and I have been discussing the significance of diversity in hockey for some time now, and we believed this would be a great opportunity to share my story and, hopefully, inspire others who may be grappling with their own identities.”
“Very well said,” Jack interjected, leaning forward in his chair. “We’re honored to be a part of this moment, Ethan.”
Each word hung in the air, heavy with significance and newfound freedom. The studio lights seemed brighter, the cameras more focused, as if the world had subtly shifted on its axis.
“Thank you for sharing this with us, Ethan,” Lila said gently, her voice sincere. “We know it isn’t easy to come out, especially in a public setting like this.”
“Would you mind sharing some elements of your journey with us?” Jack asked, his tone respectful and earnest.
“Growing up, hockey was my everything,” I explained, memories unfurling like worn pages from an old book. “It was my escape, my passion, but it was also a world where I didn’t quite feel accepted. Certain expectations—from teammates, coaches, and even myself—made it challenging to reconcile my love for the sport with my true self.
“Unfortunately,” I continued, “hockey has lagged in embracing LGBTQ+ players and fans. However, there’s no reason we can’t catch up swiftly. Other sports have made strides in recent years, and it’s time for us to do the same.”
“Absolutely,” Lila agreed, nodding emphatically. “So, what do you believe needs to happen for this change to occur?”
“First and foremost, we must create a safe and supportive environment for everyone involved in the sport,” I stated, my voice growing bolder. “That entails addressing issues like homophobic language and fostering a culture of inclusivity. And not just within our teams but across the league and beyond.
“Moreover,” I added, “we need allies. People who are willing to stand up for their LGBTQ+ friends, family members, and teammates. Together, we can challenge the status quo and forge a better future for everyone who loves this game.”
“Here, here!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
“Thank you, Ethan,” Lila said, her voice warm and sincere. “Your courage and honesty are truly inspiring. We’re certain that your story will profoundly impact many lives.”
Smiling, I felt Ryan’s pride emanating through his touch. At that moment, I knew our truth—my truth—had liberated us both.
THIRTY-TWO
RYAN
An aura of anticipation surrounded us in the car as Ethan and I rolled into the arena parking lot. The playoffs were on the line. If the Mitts won their game, they’d clinch a berth in the post-season, confirming Ethan’s prediction from months earlier. Every heartbeat of mine thumped heavier under the weight of expectation.
“Hey,” Ethan’s voice was soft, his blue eyes searching mine for reassurance. “What do you think they’ll say? About me—the fans, I mean.” His concern about a possible fan backlash starkly contrasted with his intimidating presence on the ice.
I cupped his cheek, warmth seeping into my fingertips. “They love you, Ethan. And now that you’ve shown them who you truly are, they’ll love you even more. And don’t forget—I love you, too.”
Our lips met in a kiss that tasted of bravery and possibility. As we pulled apart, he took a deep breath, his nod signaling his resolve. “Love you, Ryan. Okay. Let’s do this.”
“Go get ’em, tiger,” I teased. He responded with a small smile playing on his lips before he stepped out of the car.
Coach Jenson granted me an escape from the media frenzy still swirling around my appearance with Ethan on TV. He invited me to watch the game from a closed-circuit TV in the seclusion of his office. The idea of evading countless questions and camera flashes held undeniable appeal.
“Thanks for letting me watch from here, Coach,” I expressed my gratitude as I settled into his plush leather chair, my gaze fixed on the TV screen.
“Of course, Ryan,” he responded, a wisp of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
Coach Jenson stepped out momentarily, leaving me alone with the muted sounds of the arena. I focused on the screen watching the Mitts glide through their pre-game rituals. Their determination was evident.
“Quite the whirlwind, huh?”
I turned, finding Coach Jenson in the doorway, his white hair slightly disheveled and his eyes focused yet warm. He reached out a hand for a firm shake.
“It may be overdue, but congratulations are in order, Ryan,” he said. “You helped Ethan find the courage to be himself. That’s no small feat.”
“Thank you, Coach,” I replied, feeling a blush creep up my neck. “I’m just glad I could be there for him. He did it himself. I only helped give him a little boost.”
“He’ll be in top form tonight, proving how much your support means,” Coach Jenson nodded toward the screen.
After that comment, Coach Jenson left me alone in his office to attend to his coaching duties. I focused on taking notes and jotting down ideas for future articles. I tucked them away in files on my tablet for safekeeping.
The game started with a bang for the Mitts, and the intensity only grew from there. I watched Ethan snatch the puck from an opponent, his powerful strides propelling him forward, smoothly weaving through the opponents’ defense. With a flick of his wrist, he launched the puck into the net, leaving the goalie flailing in slow motion.
“Another goal for Underwood!” the announcer shouted through the speakers. The crowd erupted with cheers, their adoration for Ethan apparent even through the screen.
“They adore him—for good reason,” I murmured to myself.
As the game wore on, it became increasingly evident that the Mitts were in complete control. Their teamwork was flawless, each player contributing to an unstoppable force. Pride surged within me as I witnessed their seamless collaboration, a well-oiled machine in motion.
During the break between the first two periods, Coach Jenson poked his head into the office. “Don’t quote me if everything somehow goes pear-shaped, but I think we’re bound for the playoffs.”
“Seems that way,” I agreed. At that moment, I realized our journey—Ethan’s and mine—was far from over. But as I watched him skate, his eyes ablaze with determination and joy, a sense of gratitude overwhelmed me.
“Thank you, Coach,” I whispered again, my voice barely audible. “For everything. You’re a big part of this, too. You inspire these guys.”
He nodded, understanding gleaming in his eyes. “You’re welcome, Ryan.”
As the third period dwindled, the final seconds ticked away on the clock, each tick echoing like a heartbeat in my chest. My eyes remained locked on the screen, witnessing the last frantic attempts of the opposing team thwarted by Nate and the impenetrable defense of the Mitts.
“Three—two—one.” I counted down alongside the crowd.
The buzzer blare marked the match’s end and the Mitts’ triumph. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, excitement pulsing through my veins.
“Playoffs, here we come!” I exclaimed in the solitude of the office, pumping my fist into the air. “Unbelievable,” I whispered, fixated on the jubilation unfolding on the screen before me. Gloves soared into the air as players’ faces lit up with joy and triumph. They congregated on the ice, embracing and laughing, their camaraderie fully displayed.
I sighed, whispering to myself, “They’ve earned every bit of this.”
Pride swelled in my heart for Ethan and his teammates. They had persevered through adversity, emerging stronger on and off the ice. Watching them celebrate together, I couldn’t help but feel that I was part of something greater than myself.
“Is that Ethan?” I squinted at the screen, attempting to spot him amidst the jubilant mass of bodies.
The coach reappeared, leaning over me and pointing at the screen.
“Right there,” Coach Jenson directed, his finger zeroing in on Ethan’s familiar figure. He was in the midst of the uproar, his laughter echoing above the din of celebration.
“God, he looks so happy,” I murmured, unable to suppress my own smile.
“Thanks to you,” the coach replied, patting my shoulder. “You know that, right?”
I hesitated, pride and uncertainty intertwining within my chest. “I suppose I helped a little,” I admitted.
“More than you know,” Coach Jenson assured me, his eyes sincere as they met mine. “You’ve given Ethan the courage to be himself, on and off the ice. That kind of support is priceless.”
As I observed the team’s jubilation, I felt a sense of belonging. By championing Ethan’s truth, we had forged a bond—built on trust, love, and the knowledge that together, we could conquer any obstacle life hurled our way.
“Great game, huh?” Coach Jenson beamed as the locker room began to buzz with post-victory energy. “I need to join the players. Thanks for being an honorary part of the team, Ryan.”
The scent of sweat and victory hung in the air as players congratulated one another, their voices echoing off the walls.
My gaze wandered to the door that separated me from the boisterous celebration in the locker room. I felt a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing the Mitts had secured their place in the post-season.
“Hey, Ryan!” a voice called, jolting me out of my thoughts. It was Marek—he had cracked the door open. “You should join the party!”
“Thanks, but I’m good here for now,” I grinned, reclining in the chair. The office offered a more intimate setting to reflect on the night’s events, and I wanted to savor the moment for a few seconds more before wading into the chaos.
“Suit yourself, man,” Marek shrugged before vanishing back into the swarm of jubilant players.
My mind drifted to Ethan. His face flushed with joy as he reveled in their hard-fought victory. His courage in coming out had only deepened the bond with his teammates, and I loved feeling partially responsible for that.
“God, I’m so proud of him,” I murmured to myself, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The clamor of celebration echoed through the locker room, beckoning me to join the team.
I left the office and finally found Ethan. “Ryan!” he bellowed.
Champagne dripped from his hair, evidence of the celebratory shower, as he enveloped me in his muscular arms, still clad in his jersey and gear.
Amid the continued festivities, I knew we were both winners that night. As Ethan released me from his grasp, the team’s vibrant laughter and loud chants filled my ears, painting a vivid picture of triumph. The energy in the room was electric, woven together with a sense of unity and accomplishment.
