I already regret propositioning Anthony, and we haven’t even hooked up yet. In the safe, comfortable quiet of my home, it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea. Not when he was skimming exploratory hands over my skin, and kissing my jaw. But now, under the glaring light of the practice rink, it feels like a gross overstep on my part. I’m not interested in helping a baby bi figure out their sexuality, and most certainly not one who plays for the NHL—a league well known for its homophobic tendencies. My resolve to tell him the deal is off lasts until practice ends and he steps off the ice. The look he
...more
