Wyatt glared at him. “I can buy my own fucking beer. I’m an All-Star too, y’know.”
Rozanov blinked at him, and Wyatt walked away, grumbling about Russian egomaniacs. Rozanov slid into Wyatt’s chair. “You have not announced your retirement,” he said, cutting to the chase.
“Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me.”
“Why not?”
“I wanted to wait until after this weekend.”
“You don’t want a big deal?”
“No, I don’t.”
Rozanov grinned. “This is why we are different. I want a farewell season. A parade. Everyone crying at every game.”
“I’m sure you’ll get it.”
He didn’t miss the way Rozanov’s gaze darted briefly to where Shane Hollander was standing. “Maybe.”
“Scott told me you want him to help out at your camps this summer.”
“Yes. But he is busy marrying that guy he likes to kiss.”
“I think he’ll help in the future. He’s impressed with you. We all are.”
Rozanov looked like he was almost embarrassed. He ducked his head, then glanced up shyly. “Yes?”
“Absolutely. If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“You could sell one of those expensive suits you like to wear and give us the money.”
Eric chuckled. “I can give money without selling the suits.”
“We could use more goalie help, at the camps.”
“I could probably do that. I like that you’ve made an effort to be inclusive at your camps. I assume that’s why you asked Scott.”
“Yes. He is also not bad at hockey.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about him.”
“Don’t tell him.”
Eric wasn’t sure if he should share personal information with Rozanov or not, but something told him to trust him. “Not that it matters, really, but I’m bisexual. I mean, it seems like you already guessed that, but if you want that kind of rep at your camps...”
Rozanov’s face lit up. “Bisexual! This is great. Did you fuck that blond teenager yet?”
“He’s not a—” Eric bit his tongue. “He’s twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five was a long time ago for you. Do you remember twenty-five?”
“Where the hell is Wyatt?” Eric made a show of looking over Rozanov’s shoulder.
“So you did? Fuck him?”
Eric should have been terrified by this conversation, but instead he just found himself wishing he could tell Rozanov that he hadn’t justfuckedKyle. He wished he could say he was dating him. That Kyle was his boyfriend. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“That is a yes.”