And Scott didn’t have much experience at clubs, but the way Rozanov moved against the men he danced with seemed a lot more deliberate and practiced than someone who was just trying to get into the spirit of the place. Huh. It was maybe unimpressive in size, this little resistance group of hockey players who had chosen to join Scott tonight, but it felt like a revolution. A year ago—hell, a month ago—Scott would never have imagined this scenario. Out at a gay club with his best friends—his teammates—and his boyfriend and, uh, Ilya Rozanov. Dancing. Laughing. Celebrating his sexuality instead of
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