“Well,” Kip said giddily, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.”
“Mm. May as well go for broke, then.”
Scott kissed him again, and everything around them disappeared. It was just Scott and the man he loved, making out in a penalty box.
But then, reality. Which was also pretty excellent at the moment.
“The press is gonna want a word with me, I think,” Scott said, glancing at the ice. There were a lot of stunned faces staring at them.
“Go,” Kip said, “I’m so proud of you.”
“Okay, but listen: I’m going to the dressing room with my team in a few minutes, and we can bring in family and friends soon. Come talk to Huff’s wife, Laura. She’ll tell you where to go. She’s done this a few times.”
“Scott.Go.For fuck’s sake, stop worrying about me. You just won the Stanley Cup!”
Scott beamed. “I just won the Stanley Cup!”
“Yes. Get out there and be a hero, Hunter!”
But Scott refused to leave him behind. Not yet. This place was too chaotic, and he had to make sure Kip would be taken care of. He grabbed onto his hand and pulled him onto the ice with him. Kip slipped a bit when his sneakers hit the ice, and Scott steadied him with an arm around his waist.
There was a microphone in Scott’s face almost immediately. He let go of Kip and gestured toward Huff, who skated over.
“You must be Kip,” Huff said.
“I am, yes.”
“Figured. The kissing gave it away.”
Kip blushed and Scott smiled—he probably wouldn’tstopsmiling for days. Maybe months.
“Welcome to the extended Admirals family, kid,” Huff said. “Come meet the Huffs.”
Scott watched Huff as he led Kip away from the media throng that had formed. Huff was truly the best.
Scott turned toward the reporters and cameras.
“So,” he said, “any questions?”
* * *
If Kip had thought the game had been wild, it was nothing compared to the party in the locker room after.
The room waspackedwith excited, sweaty men, proud wives and girlfriends, sleepy kids, the press. Beer and champagne were flowing—Scott and his teammates were drinking champagne out of the Stanley Cup. Men were singing, men were yelling, men were crying.
Scott and Kip had gotten separated quite a few times, and it had given Kip an opportunity to notice the stares he was receiving from…basically everyone.
But he refused to shrink away. Scott wanted him there, so there he was.
Carter Vaughan caught him when Kip had been standing alone. “Here’s the guy I’ve been wanting to meet! Come here, man!”
Before Kip knew what was happening, Carter enveloped him in a sweaty hug. “Kip, Kip, Kip. I love that fucking name, you know. So, what the fuck, right? Did you and Scott Hunter really just make out in front of the whole damn world?”
“We really did.” Kip was still buzzing about it.
“That’ll get a few tweets.”
Kip smiled. “I expect so.”