Risking the Shot (Stick Side #4) - Amy Aislin Page 0,49

make the website live. Honestly, I think I was a little hasty in how quickly I agreed to it. I’ve already got a full-time job and I don’t need a second one.”

“It’ll be good for you,” Tay said with conviction. “This is what you really want to do, right? Maybe it’ll open doors you didn’t expect.”

“Yeah, but the more I think about expenses and the uncertainty of owning a small business, the more I start to question what I’m even doing.”

“Yeah, I understand questioning your choices.”

Before Dakota could ask what he meant, Tay grabbed his coat. “Want to take a walk? It’s a nice night.”

Outside, darkness had fallen, and it was snowing lightly, clinging to bare tree branches and light posts, making everything pretty and shiny. Tay’s eyes shone under the light of a nearby storefront when he turned to Dakota. “Can I hold your hand?”

That he would ask melted something inside Dakota. “Are you allowed to?”

Shoulders slumping, Tay bit his lip.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” Dakota said, giving Tay’s wrist a quick, light squeeze.

“It’s not that I’m not, exactly,” Tay clarified, blinking up at the falling snow. “My agent recommended that if I’m going to come out, I should do it in a controlled manner. It shouldn’t be an accident because I was careless. His words.” His sigh was long and loud and a bit sad. “It just sucks that something considered normal with a woman—holding hands—is a big deal when it’s two guys. Sucks even more when you’re in the spotlight. I never had to come out when I dated women.”

Spotlight . . . Tay was in the spotlight every second he stepped out the door. Dakota had to remember that. In fact, he was surprised no one at the café had interrupted their meal to ask for an autograph or a selfie.

“You’ve talked to your agent about coming out?”

Tay nodded. “A couple of times. Mason—that’s my agent. He told me to think about it. But my Gran got sick before Christmas and I was in final exams. I kind of forgot about it for a while. And then . . .”

“And then?”

Tay gestured between them again. “If I come out now, some reporter, somewhere, will find out about you, about us, and I don’t want you and Andy thrust into my drama.”

Dakota had had the same thought not long ago, and it warmed him that Tay was taking precautions too. But he’d carved a couple hours between meetings last week to look into it, and the more he’d researched out Canadian athletes, the more evidence he’d seen that he shouldn’t expect the worst. “One thing I’ve noticed about the Canadian press, even paparazzi, is that they’re surprisingly respectful. I don’t think they’d come after Andy.”

Tay didn’t seem convinced. “Maybe.”

“With all of the NHL players that have come out since Ashton Yager did a few years ago, do you really think it’ll be a media circus when you do?”

“My agent seems to think so. Also, you say all of the NHL players as if fifty of them have come out.” Tay chuckled. “There’s been, like, eight or nine on last count.”

“And one of them is your teammate. Have you talked to him about this?”

“Not yet. I will, though.”

Dakota slowed them near the stop sign down the street from his house. The road was quiet and sleepy, snow sticking to the grass. He took Tay by the shoulders and looked him square in the eye. “If you want to publicly come out because you feel like that’s the right move for you, just do it, Tay. You don’t let me and Andy stand in the way of something that’s so important to you.”

“I’m not letting you stand in my way. At least, that’s not how I see it.” Taking advantage of their darkened patch of sidewalk, Tay stepped into Dakota’s space, hands coming up to his hips. “I’m just conscious of my position as a professional athlete who could have cameras on him at any time. And you didn’t ask to be put in front of one. Besides, it’s . . .” Trailing off, Tay ran an ungloved hand through his hair and started them walking again.

“It’s what?”

“It feels . . . presumptuous . . . having this conversation. I mean, this is our first date. Third, maybe, if you count the two dinners at your house, and . . .” On Dakota’s porch, Tay stomped his feet to shake snow loose. The porch lights made his hair a