Chapter Two
It wasn’t until morning skate the next day that the Dells got to officially meet their new defenseman.
Jacob had watched the final moments of the championship game at least a dozen times last night. Naturally, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Dino. The kid was like a bull, fearlessly holding off two attackers at once and allowing his center a clear shot on goal with ten seconds left in a tied game.
It was an incredible clip, like something out of an underdog movie. The buzzer going off just as the goal scorer’s hands came up for a celebration, the defending goaltender overturning his net in a fit of rage. However, quite unfortunately in Jacob’s opinion, it was not this video that had caught people’s attention.
The grainy cellphone footage of Dino coming out was already well past six million views. In it, a random kid, probably a writer for their school newspaper or something, congratulated him on the win and asked if he had anything he wanted to say to the fans. Dino smiled, still sweaty and out of breath and said, “I’m gay.”
That was it.
He did not elaborate or stick around long enough to see the shocked faces of his teammates and the assembled crowd. He just turned tail, dropped his towel in the laundry bin, and disappeared back into the locker room to gather his things. The video ended with the filmographer turning the camera back on himself and whispering, “The Dinosaur just came out.” He sounded equal parts dazed and excited, like he knew he’d just scored himself a viral video.
At first, people hadn’t quite known what to make of it. There were many subsequent videos of people interviewing Dino’s teammates, all of whom were convinced it was joke. Then, slowly but surely as the video caught fire, ex-boyfriends came out of the woodwork. Several of them even provided pictures of them kissing or cuddling with Dino. All the while, the Dells were busy getting their asses handed to them in the rink, unaware that they’d just inherited a history maker.
In person, Dino completely lived up to his nickname. He was about 6’5’’ and 235 pounds with arms the size of a small woman’s waist. Jacob couldn’t help but notice that his uniform was a smidge too tight, clinging to his muscles and making his pads bulge. Dino had obviously gained a considerable amount of muscle since the last time he was measured.
He had thick, dark wavy hair and eyes the exact color of dirty pennies, both of which were complemented by his medium brown skin. He looked like he belonged on the cover of one of those vomit-inducing romance novels you’d find at the grocery store. Something along the lines of “My Latin Lover” or “The Poolboy’s Fantasy.”
Jacob also thought that green was not his color.
As the captain, he was the first to step out of his shell and formally introduce himself. Dino shook Jacob’s proffered hand with gusto and gave him a warm smile. It was kind of unnerving. No talented rookie had any right being this happy about joining the Dells.
But Dino was, it was written all over his face as they ran drills.
He was not what Jacob had been expecting at all. One might think that the first player to come out in an overwhelmingly masculine space might be skittish or shy, but Dino was anything but. He held his stick lightly in his hands while he made laps around the rink and chatted with some of the rookies he’d met in training camp. Either ignorant to, or in spite of the tense atmosphere in the room Dino was completely at ease. He was wholly undaunted and unflinchingly comfortable in his skin. All six feet and five inches of it.
Jacob could tell that the other guys didn’t yet know what to make of him, but no one was outwardly hostile, for which he was grateful. Some of them were even indulging in his small talk and laughing at his jokes, though Jacob suspected that might have something to do with the very clearly present PR team.
They didn’t get the go ahead to leave until late into the afternoon after everyone had met with the med-staff and trainers and the camera crew had gotten some good footage of Dino taking shots on net.
Jacob congratulated everyone on a good skate and went back to his locker to start packing up. His body felt thin and stretched out, the way it always did after a long practice. He was exhausted, but it was a pleasant and familiar type of exhaustion. He was already dreaming of a hot shower and maybe even a chapter of his new book before bed.
That’s when Coach Rockaway came and pulled him aside.
“What do you think of him?” he asked.
The man was not one for beating around the bush.
Jacob shrugged.
“I don’t know. He seems fine. It feels kinda weird I guess, but we’ll get used to it eventually.”
The coach folded his arms over his chest.
“Get used to it now, Jake. The kid is staying with you.”
Jacob’s heart stopped beating for a second.
He blinked several times and finally managed a startled, “What?”
“You heard me,” Rockaway said. “The kid’s starting in the game against Dallas on Sunday and he’s gonna need lodging for the rest of the season. You, my good sir, are gonna provide that lodging.”
Jacob shook his head.
“I got that part, but why me? Joey and Salad both have empty wings in their mansions for rooks. Why would he want to stay in my one-bedroom apartment?”
Rockaway looked at him like he was failing remedial English.
“He doesn’t get a choice. Nobody wants him. Afraid he’s gonna make a move on them or some shit. I don’t know and I don’t care. Either way, he’s gotta stay somewhere and you’re the one wearing the ‘C’. Time to take one for the team.”
Jacob looked back at Dino who was straddling a chair in the corner of the room and telling a story to Smitty, the backup goalie, with lots emotion and sweeping hand gestures. Sighing, Jacob nodded at the coach, finished collecting his gear and went to retrieve his new roommate.
“Come with me,” Jacob said, interrupting the D-man mid-sentence.
Dino’s smiled faltered, but he did not protest. He waved goodbye to Smitty, a couple of the remaining guys, and Steph the intern before hoisting his gigantic duffle over his shoulders and following Jacob out to his Italian sports car.
The ride to the apartment was an awkward one. Dino kept trying to make small talk and each time Jacob would respond by cranking the radio louder and louder until the obnoxious country crooning blocked out the yuppie’s thick Brooklyn accent.
About twenty minutes and nine twangy songs later, they arrived at Jacob’s building. Jacob parked in his spot, flashed a smile at the doorman, and dug out his keys on the way up to the fifth floor where his loft was waiting for him.
Once inside, he tossed his gear bag next to the door, grabbed an extra pillow and blanket out of the hall closet, and threw them onto the couch.
Dino barely even had time to cross the threshold before Jacob had locked himself into his bedroom for the rest of the night.