Chapter Fifteen

When he had first been drafted to the NHL, Dan had set up an online search of his name, alerted whenever something was posted about him. He still had it, still got notifications, even if there wasn’t always anything interesting beyond game alerts. There had been a couple of articles of him spotted in the figure skating rink watching Bobby, but they had focused mostly on his being with Kayla and about sibling bonding.

Ian had pouted after the first two, wondering why he wasn’t allowed to come, and though there wasn’t anything left for Bobby to do beyond the gala, Dan invited him anyway. Ian begged off unless Helena wanted to go, which was a relief, but it made Dan more careful.

He didn’t stop seeing Bobby. When he and the team made the quarterfinals, Bobby had blown him in his room. Rafael was out doing whatever he did when he made himself scarce. Once they were done, Dan jerking Bobby off, then wiping his hand on his own sweatpants, he basked in the afterglow, enjoyed having someone to spend some of the quiet time with.

When Bobby and Dan attended Kayla’s free program together, Dan fresh off a win in the quarterfinals, they dragged Ian, Helena, and Simon with them, all of them decked out in Team USA gear. It could be a support thing, but Dan couldn’t deny that crammed between Bobby and Ian, it was easy to pretend that his family was just out to support their sister. It was a ridiculous thought, Ian and his girlfriend, Dan and his boyfriend, the guy Kayla was pretending not to be attracted to all sat together.

When Bobby leaned over after a particularly brilliant spin from Kayla—dancing to a song that Dan remembered from their childhood, Kayla’s fifth birthday—and he realized why she hadn’t told anyone what song she was dancing to. It was a song their mother used to sing before they all started competing in various sports and she went insane.

“God,” Dan said, lump in his throat.

Beside him, Ian had gone stiff. “Did she tell you?”

“No,” Dan said quietly. “Fuck mom anyway.”

“Why are we hating on your mom?” Helena asked, still pumping her fist at Kayla’s routine. It was an innocent question, she couldn’t know how sensitive a subject it was.

Bobby put a hand on Dan’s knee. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“It’s all right,” Dan said, turning to see Ian staring at Bobby’s hand, then up at Dan’s face. Dan could feel himself get defensive—a change from being panicked—and raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing,” Helena said, mistaking his hot tone for her. “I didn’t mean to pry Dan.”

“No,” Dan said. “Ian.”

Ian shrugged like it didn’t matter, but there was an odd set to his mouth. Bobby’s hand pulled back and Dan hated everything, couldn’t even concentrate on what Kayla was doing.

“Fuck,” he said, with feeling. He couldn’t leave, wedged as he was amongst the crowd, and his skin was crawling with the need to run.

“Dan,” Ian started.

“Fuck off,” Dan snapped, rubbing at his face.

“I’m sorry,” Bobby said, voice pitched low. He wasn’t touching Dan anymore, was practically crushing the person next to him, but that just made Dan feel worse. He was tired of having to check himself, of having to make sure that nobody was watching just in case.

“Fuck it,” Dan said. He shuffled in his seat, almost reached for Bobby’s hand, but he hadn’t lost his mind just yet. “I don’t care. Touch me if you want.”

Bobby was staring at him, brow furrowed, and Dan felt like an idiot.

Not caring who he had to shove out of the way, Dan stood abruptly, shaking off the hand Ian tried to put on his arm and ignoring Bobby trying to catch his attention. He could watch Kayla just as well from down by the rink. As soon as he stepped down to where some of the competitors were getting ready for their own turn on the ice, Dan wanted to find somewhere he could bang his head against the wall.

There wasn’t another game for a couple of days—the day of the semis and the figure skating gala—but Dan longed for a stick in his hands so that he could beat the shit out of a puck and work out frustration he thought he was done with.

“So fucking naïve,” he told himself, hovering by the coaches and waiting for Kayla’s scores to be posted. After the short program she had been in fourth and had some work to do to place, but Dan was confident with what he’d seen that she was in with a shot.

When it was clear the gold and silver would be between the last two competitors, Dan felt a pang of sympathy for Kayla that she hadn’t made gold but couldn’t wait to congratulate her on the bronze. A medal was a medal and as he approached the coaching area, she was hugging Katarina, smiling widely.

“Hey,” he said, and she lunged for him, hugging him tightly. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Kayla said, beaming. “You with Bobby?”

Dan tried not to let anything show on his face and nodded, smile taut. “Yeah. Ian, Helena and Simon too.”

“Oh, God,” Kayla said, pressing a hand to her mouth. “I think I’m gonna cry.”

“Sort it out, Kay,” Dan mocked but kissed her cheek. “Congratulations again.”

Kayla nodded, bouncing a little on her skates. “Stick around for the medal ceremony?”

“Duh,” Dan said immediately, though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Having to wait around, no doubt having Ian and Bobby both come and join him was going to be hard, but he had done worse things. Not many that he could think of during this Olympics. Later in life, he would probably cite these days as the turning point in his life, for better or worse.

It was Helena who found him, slipping an arm through his, tugging him away from where Simon, Ian, and Bobby were congratulating Kayla. She placed her hands on his arms, squeezing.

“Listen,” she said, and Dan wanted to ignore her on principle. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Bobby, and I don’t want to know,” she added, as he sucked in a breath. “It’s nobody else’s business but yours. Just… Bobby is amazing, all right? I want him to be happy.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me to back off?”

“No.” Helena made a face. “For some reason, he thinks you’re amazing.”

“Nice,” Dan said, but his lips were twitching.

Helena grinned. “You haven’t exactly been approachable.”

That was just Dan’s character. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Helena said, prompting Dan with a poke to his chest. “You’re important to Ian and Ian is important to me. I want you to be happy too.”

Dan didn’t know how to react to that. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Thanks.”

“Just because the sports world can be unforgiving,” Helena continued. “You deserve to be happy despite that.”

It was a variation of what everyone had told him, but it still made Dan wanted to scream that they didn’t understand, they couldn’t, not unless they were in his position—or any position of not being straight. It was a hard world.

“Thanks,” he said gently. “I wish I was as sure as you.”

“You could be,” Helena pointed out. “But I get it. I can’t imagine having to be the person who starts that.”

Dan nodded, rubbing at his forehead.

Silence lapsed over them and Helena sighed, leaning in for a quick hug. Dan returned it, awkwardly, and then stepped back. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Helena said, giving him a sad smile. “Come on, let’s watch Kayla get that bronze.”

Dan chuckled, following Helena back to the enclosure, where a few of the skaters were gathered around Kayla. Bobby tried to catch his eye as he approached and though Dan didn’t know how to react, he smiled. There was relief in Bobby’s return smile, and Dan felt guilt well up in his chest.

“Sorry,” he said, sticking close to Bobby’s side. “I thought you didn’t want—”

“It wasn’t Ian,” Bobby said honestly. He darted a look around, but everyone was occupied. “I didn’t think you wanted anyone to see you touching me.”

Media, Dan thought instantly. Other people with cell phones. It wasn’t the first time that Dan had resented his hockey life, or that he contemplated what it might be like without it, but he shrugged. He wanted to say I don’t care or hold my hand anyway, but he wasn’t that brave. “Thanks.”

Bobby’s smile was sad, but he didn’t say anything else.

Dan didn’t like hurting him. Bobby didn’t deserve to be kept a secret, but Dan didn’t know if he could be with him in public. It was frightening, the potential that his sexuality would outweigh his hockey.

The sounds of the medal ceremony were picking up, and Dan tried to focus on that, shuffling closer to the boards, Helena on one side, Bobby on the other, and if Dan leaned a little too much against Bobby, Bobby didn’t say anything.