Page 46 of From Coast to Coast
Hearing the panic in my voice, Lisa softens hers. “Yeah, kiddo, I’m sure. Calgary is on board, Colorado is on board—all they’re waiting on is you.”
“Fuck,” I say, louder this time.
“Did you hear anything I said or have you suffered some sort of head injury I don’t know about?”
“I heard.” I’m still trying to process it, but yeah, I heard.
“And is there a reason you’re not screaming with joy? Not only can you leave Calgary, but you’ll be going to Colorado. Need I remind you, they are one of the few teams in the NHL who have supported queer players?”
“No, I know. This feels a little too good to be true.” Not to mention, a little too late. Do I want to be traded? Yes. Do I want to leave Remy behind? No. Unfortunately, not something I can explain to my agent when the person I’m in a quasi-relationship with is on the team.
“Well, buy a lottery ticket, because apparently your number is up. Listen… I know you’ve had a rough go of it over there, but I also know that’s your home. It’s a hard decision, but it’s still your decision.”
“How long do I have?”
“Less than twenty-four hours. The two from the AHL are on a plane as we speak and the league wants an answer, stat. They aren’t saying they’re desperate, but I’m telling you they’re desperate.”
“The answer is yes,” I say, voice so low I wonder if she can even hear it.
“Yet, you don’t sound happy. Is there a Canadian boy you don’t want to leave behind?”
“Sort of.”
She sighs. “And here I thought I was in for a raise after bringing this to you. Take the night, call me tomorrow.”
“No, I don’t need the night. I know it’s a yes.”
Minutes after we hang up, I’m still in the kitchen. I feel a little ill—elated that I’ll be starting fresh with a new team, but disappointed that this thing between Remy and me will come to an end. Friends with benefits isn’t built to survive the distance between Canada and Colorado, and I shouldn’t even be considering it as an option. Remy just got out of a long-term relationship and I can hardly ask him to commit to this. There isn’t even a “this.”
This is casual and I need to remember that, no matter how much I wish it was otherwise.
Dropping my phone onto the counter, I walk slowly back to the dining room. Pausing in the doorway, I watch Remy unseen for a few seconds. He’s leaned back in the chair, balanced on the rear legs, as he scrolls through his phone. He left some of my food behind, but there’s no way I’ll be able to eat now.
“Hey, sorry about that.” He looks up at the sound of my voice, immediately tossing his phone down and smiling at me. The smile falters a bit as I retake my seat. He lowers his chair all the way to the floor, leaning forward and peering at me.
“Gray?”
“I got a trade offer from Colorado. They want to buy out my contract.”
“Holyshit,” Remy breathes. “Holy fucking shit, are you serious? That’s incredible! You said yes, right? Why do you look like someone punched you in the face?”
“It’s a long way away and…I’d probably be leaving tomorrow or the day after.”
The smile slides off of his face. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“But…please tell me you said yes. This is what you want—to play for a team who you already know aren’t assholes. It’s perfect.”
“I said yes.” Remy continues to stare at me, face so close to mine I can pick out each individual fleck of green in the brown of his eyes. “Pretty bummed about having to leave my fuck buddy behind, though.”
I make a valiant effort at nonchalance when I crack the joke, doing my best to make our arrangement less serious than I’d like it to be. I apparently succeed, because Remy’s smile quirks up and he leans forward to give me a quick kiss.
“The fuck buddy is bummed, too. But mostly happy for you.” Remy stands, grabbing both of our plates and walking toward the kitchen. He calls back over his shoulder, “They didn’t say when they want you?”
“I had a day to decide. Not sure what the timeframe will be now, since I didn’t need to think about it. Lisa is going to follow up with me tomorrow. For tonight, I was instructed to enjoy myself.”
“Enjoy yourself? Has she met you?” he jokes, tossing me a grin over his shoulder as he loads the dishwasher.