CHAPTER 13- MEET ALEX, RAPHAEL'S PAST FLING

Liam felt heat crawl up his neck. Did he guess I rushed home because of that text? Fuck.

Raphael took over the introductions.

“Liam, this is Alex. Old teammate and close friend from back home. Alex, this is Liam Lannister, our captain.”

Alex stood up with a grin and extended a hand. “Nice to finally meet you, man. Raphael’s told me a lot about you.”

What did he mean by that? What had Raphael told him?

Liam shook Alex's hand, keeping his grip firm and his face neutral. “Yeah. Good to meet you too.”

As they released hands, Alex’s grin turned a little playful. He glanced at Raphael before adding, “We were once more than just friends, actually.” He winked at Raphael, who just chuckled, low and unbothered.

Liam’s stomach dropped. He barely hid the flash of unwarranted jealousy that shot through him. What the fuck? Why do I even care? He’s nothing to me. Just a roommate. A rival I got stuck with.

Raphael's voice suddenly cut through the fog in his head. “Yo, Cap! Why are you back so early though? Thought you and Emma were hitting it off.”

Liam forced a casual shrug, dropping his bag by the door. “The girls had another schedule they needed to get to. We exchanged numbers though. Already texting a bit.”

Raphael’s smirk deepened, but his tone stayed light. “Happy it went well. I was almost worried you weren’t interested in the girl.” He paused, eyes glinting with mischief. “Or interested in girls in general.”

Alex raised an eyebrow curiously. “Wait.. he's ...you’re gay?”

Liam practically tripped over his own words. “No. Fuck no. I’m not gay. Ewww. Not even close. I like women. Always have. That’s not… I don’t swing that way at all.”

He sounded defensive. Homophobic even to his own ears. The words tasted bitter as soon as they left his mouth.

"I'm sorry Man, not that there's anything wrong with being gay.... I'm sorry if I came off homophobic..."

Alex blinked, then chuckled, raising his hands. “Hey, no offense taken. I’ve heard worse. Being a gay hockey player isn’t exactly the easiest path.”

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not homophobic. I just… don’t swing that way. That’s all.”

Raphael leaned back on the couch, watching him with quiet amusement. “Yet,” he added softly.

Alex laughed again, the sound warm. “Don’t worry about it, man. I’ve had my fair share of people hating on me for it — especially in hockey. When I first came out to my parents…” He trailed off, rubbing his jaw. “It was rough. They didn’t speak to me for months. Told me it was a phase, that I was throwing away my future in the sport. I had to sneak around, hide who I was. Felt like I was living two lives.”

The room grew quieter. Liam sat on the arm of the couch, listening despite himself.

Alex continued, glancing at Raphael with a fond look. “That’s when I met this wild motherfucker. Raphael was already out and confident about swinging both ways. Didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. He was everything I wished I could be — talented, fearless, openly himself while still being a beast on the ice.”

Raphael laughed, nudging Alex’s shoulder. “You hated me for it at first.”

“Damn right I did,” Alex admitted with a grin. “You made it look so easy. I was still scared shitless, sneaking around with guys, terrified someone would find out. You just… lived. Made me jealous as hell.”

The two of them fell into easy storytelling — funny anecdotes about their early days, dumb mistakes on the ice, late-night talks where Raphael helped Alex accept himself. The ease between them was palpable. The way they leaned into each other when they laughed. The safe space they clearly shared.

Liam watched them, chest tight with a strange mix of jealousy and longing. Not sexual, it was just the deep, aching wish for that kind of acceptance. Someone who stood with you through the hard shit without judgment.

It must be nice, he thought, to have someone like that. Someone who doesn’t make you feel broken for being who you are.

The realization unsettled him. His own strong, blanket hatred of “gay stuff” suddenly felt… dumb. Based on stupid stereotypes — men cocking their hips, giggling like girls, acting flamboyant. He hated that image. But sitting here listening to Alex’s real story… it didn’t match any of that.

Doesn’t mean I’m gay though, he told himself fiercely. I’m not. I like girls. Emma was pretty. Chloe too. I’ve always liked girls.

He excused himself after a while, mumbling something about being tired. In his room, he closed the door and leaned against it, replaying the entire conversation.

His homophobia had been built on bullshit. He could admit that much. But admitting he was wrong about stereotyping every gay man didn’t mean he was attracted to men. It didn’t.

He repeated it like a mantra as he changed into sweats and climbed into bed.

I like girls. I’ve always liked girls. I’m straight.

He chanted it in his head until sleep finally pulled him under.