Hooking the Hockey Player Ch. 07

"It wasn't a huge decision, I just hadn't been asked about it before. It wasn't something that I was hiding." Owen smiled and I wondered how much had been scripted.

"What can you tell us about Jake?" My throat felt like it was closing as panic crowded my mind.

Owen brushed a lock of hair falling into his face back, "He's a pretty private person; I don't think that he'd appreciate me talking about him."

A slim black-haired reporter piped up, "What has been the Coyotes' reaction?"

"I haven't heard much of a reaction yet but I'm sure they will be issuing a statement or holding a press conference and then we'll all get to see," Owen said arching an eyebrow.

A heavy-set graying man followed up with, "Did they know you're gay?"

In a turn that would cause Calen to tweeze grays out for weeks, Owen smiled, "Many people from all around the League knew; I've never been one to pretend to be someone I'm not."

The scrum of reporters launched into questions but they were all speculative or trying to get Owen to incriminate other players. Owen never murmured no comment but explained his positions about not giving out information that wasn't his to give.

Eventually the station had to switch over to other coverage but it was still streaming online and even ESPN and TSN had cut-ins of Owen's press conference as they continued to replay the tape. Owen eventually ended the conference with, "It's getting late on the East Coast and I have someone to call. Thank you."

On my laptop I watched Owen step away from the table as cameras flashed and reporters yelled questions. He disappeared from sight and Derrick and I watched as coverage switched to a different room where the junior sports reporters were asking another one of the players questions. Derrick and I sat in silence for four long minutes before my phone started buzzing.

Our trance was broken and Derrick was up and gone with a, "I'll give you a minute."

I stared at my phone for three rings before picking it up and putting it to my ear with a soft, "Hello."

"I did a thing," I heard him say rather sheepishly.

"Oh I heard—"

He volleyed into an explanation, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. It wasn't planned. I'm sorry I said your name—"

I cut him off, apparently the calm façade had been just that—a façade. He was freaking out just a little bit with the enormity of his situation and with what I assume he thought would be my ire, "Owen, I watched the whole thing. I'm so proud of you."

"Really?" His voice sounded so small over the phone.

"Yeah, I think Calen and your dad are going to kill you though."

He snorted, sounding a little bit more like the confident man I knew. "I had to stop them from following me to make this call. They gave me four minutes before they would cut me off to have our meeting."

I laughed but my heart hurt for him, "You're about to get a talking to, huh?"

"I'm sure I'm about to have my ass handed to me. Calen already started yelling at me. The only saving grace is that a bunch of brands and celebrities have been reaching out in support."

I wasn't shocked that there would be people currying favor in either direction, "That's great."

Owen sounded uncomfortable, I imagined him running his hands through his hair in preoccupation. "So, you might get some flak. It's not going to be long until someone makes the connection or asks someone from school."

"I'll handle it Owen. Worry about you; it's going to be a crazy few weeks for you."

"I'm sure—", I heard in the background furious knocking, "I apparently have used up my time. But I think they cut my time short; no way it's been four minutes."

"Go. I'm sure you'll need all of their goodwill to get through this meeting. I love you."

"Love you too Jake, so much." Then there was a dial tone playing in my ear.

It only took four days for the reporters to show up outside my building. Calen had already gotten calls from NBC, FOX, ESPN and every other acronym or initialism for an exclusive interview where they could really sit down and do a feature on him. One particularly enterprising news show had asked for both of us: wanting my reaction to all of this.

Calen was still weighing his options for which station would have the most social currency for Owen to grant first rights to. This was in the wake of the Coyotes reaction which had been at its core: We are an organization that is committed to its players. Owen plays good hockey and we aren't about to kick him out when he's our new fresh talent. They also made mention of their long standing commitment to non-discriminatory hiring. It was the best they could do as an organization and Owen seemed to take it in stride.

"I mean they could have sent me down to the AHL."

With the Coyotes' lukewarm endorsement, the only person left for them to ferret out was me. I was on my way to my 8 A.M. Broadcast Journalism class when I was assailed by six reporters.

My peers jumped from 'definitely not awake enough for this shit' to incredibly interested as the camera bulbs flashed taking in my expression: shock and resignation. When the questions started flying I only answered one, "Yeah, I'm dating Owen Holt." Then I finished it up with the one phrase Calen had been beating into my head from the beginning, "All other inquires can be sent to the Edwards Group." They didn't stop asking questions but I made my way into one of the school affiliated buildings which was accessible by key card only so I was able to escape.

Reporters asking about me was new and terrifying. I didn't know how Owen managed it. He always was meant for the limelight; I really wasn't. But I would endure the speculation until it died down, even though it took a very long time for Owen to be out of the headlines.

After the initial buzz died down, it was time for anyone who was looking to make a name for themselves to have an opinion. In a game with the Flyers, a mic picked up one of their players crashing Owen into the boards while telling him, "I'll shove your stick up your faggot ass." He was fined and suspended for several games but not before the Coyotes' bench cleared to take care of the issue.

Owen, while getting patched up, had told his teammates not to worry about it but they had flat out told him that it wasn't going to happen. I smirked at Owen's indignation that someone would fight his battles for him remembering how he didn't understand when I felt that way.

The fans were undecided for several games until Owen got a hat trick and then they didn't give a shit who he was fucking. HatTrickHolt was born that night. That hashtag would become his moniker; Owen really specialized in feats of magnitude like getting hat tricks. The only fans that really rebelled against Owen being gay were the teenage (or older) females that were all convinced that Owen would be the one to sweep them off their feet.

Too bad for them. He was mine.

Five Years Later

I didn't walk at my college graduation; the second finals were over I was on a plane. Owen had signed a four year contract extension along with a huge raise after his rookie contract had run out. He had stayed in Arizona and the minute I was free to join him I did. In his third season with the Coyotes he was named Captain after Doan retired.

There was some gnashing of teeth that someone who could barely legally drink alcohol was the captain. There was also some gnashing over him being gay but most people had gotten over their bullshit when Owen got the Coyotes through some rough patches and into the playoffs. There were still some articles that tried to smear him as a pervert or a drain on the team but that was a drop in the ocean of praise, awards, and love that Owen received.

We got married 6 years to the day that we met. All of Owen's teammates were there as well as many so-called rivals that all slapped Owen on the back. Owen's dad who I now reluctantly called Chase stood as Owen's best man while his lineman and Kyle rounded out his groomsmen. I had friends from Emerson including Derrick who was my best man. Also among my groomsmen was Matt who had cleaned his act up—sort of. He would be very proud to say that he loved his job. He had quit college when weed was legalized for recreation in Colorado and opened one of the first shops. As far as I could tell, he was rolling in money, drugs, and patchouli-scented women. He was happy.

I had also invited Ellen to the wedding, just to see if she and Matt could work something out. They didn't in the end, disappointing. I wasn't surprised she accepted; since graduation many people had reached out and explained that they were sorry they never said something or that they wished we had been closer. Fuck them: I didn't need their bullshit friendship even if in some cases it works out to my advantage.

Owen had insisted I invite as many people from high school as I could stand so they could see that I was doing better than them. It might have been vindictive but I was up for a little vindication of my sorrow. I didn't invite Gregory or Liam of course, that would have been masochistic but all the people who had reached out, the cross country team they were all there. Owen was all about having a big wedding, several people had pitched having it being a TV special but that was way too much for me.

The only goal of having so many people there was that it validated me in the past and Owen in the future. Sports legends, icons, reporters, owners, they all came to support Owen and in doing so supported the closeted kids who looked up to Owen.

My parents were of course beaming and proud, even if Owen found their newfound appreciation of me tiresome, I liked it. I was happy they were there to share the day with me. My mother had screamed when I had told her we were getting married.

Owen with his flair for dramatics had wanted to propose to me on the ice in the middle of an All-Star Game interview and make that his legacy of shocking revelations. I'm glad he didn't do that. I still would have said yes of course but he would have received a punch on the shoulder.

He proposed far more intimately. We had been enjoying dating. It was something we hadn't really been able to do in high school. But now that he was out we could actually go places together, although he often was sequestered into photos with fans. Amusingly Owen's sexuality was such an important story that I frequently got roped into the photos as well.

He had taken me hiking in off-season. A good cross training exercise he had told me, not something that could possibly get him hurt; of course it was all just a big rouse. I had been enjoying our pre-dawn hike through a state park, we had gone so early so as to escape the heat, foot traffic, and to see the sunrise. Of course, I didn't know we had to have all kinds of special permission to be out there as early as we were.

We stood at the top of Piestewa Peak as the sun rose and Owen turned to me, the golden rays of the morning peeking out over the desert and kissed me gently. Breaking our kiss, he sunk to a knee in front of me. It was an out of body experience for me; I watched my mouth flounder open as I grappled with myself. I watched as a rogue tear slipped down my cheek before he had even said the words:

"I wanted to show you the horizon Jake; I love you more than anything down below. Anything you see and want, I'll spend my life making it happen. I don't want to spend another sunrise without you, will you please do me the honor of marrying me?"

My heart thudded loudly in my ears, Owen's face shone is the early morning light. He looked exactly as devastatingly handsome as he had when we had first met, if anything he looked better. He was stronger and more settled into his features. I was so absorbed in my love for him that I had to shake myself when I was his glorious smile falter.

"Oh god, yes. Yes. Yes, forever." He sprung up from his knee and grabbed me around my waist lifting me and twirling me around as we kissed. Joy was overwhelming, I loved this man. More than anything. More than not seeing him for days and days when he went on travel trips, more than my envy of him getting to take naps in the middle of the day for his job, more than annoying fan girls (or even worse boys). I loved him with the purity of a first love but the strength of knowing that he was my forever.

We announced immediately. We called our parents from the mountain even if it was pretty early even on the East Coast. Owen didn't want to wait for Calen's approval, he snapped a picture of us silhouetted by the sunrise and pushed it out on Twitter.

I wasn't too worried about wedding planning, I was busy working for the Phoenix Sun Times so Calen brought in an actual wedding planner. My mother had more contact with her than I did. Owen and I made simple choices together, I think we shocked her with the scale of our wedding but it wasn't really just about us.

With Owen's father—Chase, as he had insisted I call him—as his best man, I hadn't thought to be worried about his bachelor's party. Of course Chase's plan for a nice weekend playing golf in Montreal had been waylaid by several of Owen's teammates. They had ordered six female strippers and one male: just for Owen. I appreciated their foresight that Owen likely wouldn't have been interested in the women in fake police regalia. I wish I could muster up some jealousy that Owen had an attractive naked man grinding on him but I was just so damn pleased that his teammates supported him enough to actually get him a man.

His teammates, or at least most of them, were almost too supportive. Mikhalov, their big Russian enforcer, had come to me one day shortly after we had gotten engaged. He was massive, at least 6-7 and built like a shithouse. He was the one that usually kept Owen out of anything too bad. Not that Owen hadn't been able to stand up for himself but Owen got paid to score not fight. Mikhalov got paid to fight. His bruising body approached me one day with death in his eyes. I metaphorically wet myself as the "death glare" was turned on me.

His low tone was calm but determined as he explained that if I hurt Holt, I would have to answer to him. At our wedding, after I had become Jake Holt, his toast was that if anyone messed with either Holt they would have to answer to him.

Our wedding was everything I could have hoped for, grandiose but still intimate. Intimate in that I was with Owen, he was always my rock in a sea of crazy.

Owen and I had a life now, he was committed to the Coyotes and they were committed to him. They were all looking toward the cup as Owen and I looked forward to our future. We bought a house together out the outskirts of Phoenix, well he paid for most of it of course. It's big enough for the entire team to come over and hang out, which they do often. I'm not opposed to very attractive athletes lounging around our pool. But I'm far more excited that our house is big enough for kids.

Owen had declared to me one night as we lay replete, "I want kids."

I smiled, his chest hair tickling my nose, "We can certainly keep trying to make it happen." He kissed the top of my head.

"I'm serious though," he chuckled. "Your sperm, my sperm, or adoption: I want kids."

I sat up and gazed at my god in repose, naked and earnest in his convictions. He used one arm as a pillow and his chest, newly adorned with my name over his heart, gleamed in the low light. "Like right now?"

Owen's face split into a wide smile and the small scar parallel to his lip, which he gotten his third season from a particularly vicious slash, was bright white against his tanned face, "I guess we could wait a few years."

"Good, because I don't want to share you yet. You travel all the time but when you're here you're with me, got it?"

He kissed me thoroughly, leaving me breathless from his intensity, "I got it. So kids down the line—yes?"

We decided eventually on adoption; I wanted our kids to have the natural advantages Owen had and Owen had wanted his kids to look like me. We thought about having several children with both of us fathering at least one of them but surrogacy seemed like a long and protracted road of worrying possibilities. So, month after our wedding we began the paperwork for adoption knowing that the process is a long one.

Owen has been practicing by doing charitable work around Phoenix with various children's organizations. I think it's his way of making sure that he'll be ready when the time finally comes. But I don't have any doubts that Owen will make an amazing father; he's already an amazing husband.