Chapter 4 Adam
FOUR
ADAM
Adam was suffering. Tanner had survived one shift after his skateboarding injury, which still sounded ridiculous to him, but realized he couldn’t keep working injured.
With Tanner out nursing a broken clavicle, Adam was down a bartender, and more importantly, he was down a closer.
He wouldn’t be out long enough to justify hiring someone new, so that meant a lot of closing shifts in Adam’s future.
It was nice to have the extra time with Grace, though. Closing-shift hours came more easily to her, so they only had a little overlap before Adam was done for the day on a regular day.
“There’s your boy,” Grace said, pointing up to one of the TVs hanging from the ceiling.
It, like most of the TVs in the bar that night, had been on the Iowa Stars game, which he tried valiantly to ignore.
But the Stars won, and there was Skylar, in all of his incredibly sweaty hockey glory, talking to someone with a mic in their hand somewhere off the ice.
His forehead was red from his helmet, cheeks pink from the exertion, those blond waves dark and tangled with sweat.
He was, unfortunately, extremely beautiful.
The TV was on mute, like all of their TVs were, and Adam pulled his eyes away from the closed captioning.
“Not my boy.” Skylar hadn’t stopped by in over a week, not that Adam was keeping track.
“Sure. You just walk every slightly tipsy boy home.”
“I felt responsible for him.” It wasn’t out of the ordinary to make sure a drunk patron made it home safe. Though that usually involved a cab, not door-side service.
“Mmhmm,” Grace said with a smile. She had been teasing him since she had lost her first tooth, and there was no sign of stopping anytime soon.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
It was a Tuesday night and fairly quiet, so he thought he was seeing things when the front door to the bar opened and Skylar walked in, the soft waves of his hair tamed by a backwards snapback, smile running at a million watts. He sat down at the bar right in front of Adam.
“You can google me again if you want.”
Adam pointed up at the TVs to let him know he already knew.
“I knew I’d make you a sports fan.”
“Can I get you a drink?” He assumed Skylar was this flirty with everyone, and he didn’t want to encourage anything.
“What’s your favorite?”
Adam pulled out a clean glass, scooped some ice, and poured Skylar a ginger ale.
“Ginger and…?” Skylar asked, waiting for Adam to pull out a bottle of something.
“A splash of grenadine,” Adam said, topping the drink off with bright red syrup. He stuck a straw in the glass and slid it across the bar. “On the house. I’m not a big drinker.”
Skylar stirred the drink with his straw and took a sip. “At least you have good taste.”
“I can get you a real drink if you want one.”
“I’ll finish this first. Still high on the win and feeling good on the adrenaline. Happy to add a sugar high to that.”
“I see that.” The hockey player sitting at his bar was night and day to the one who had scowled his way through the evening the last time he’d shown up, lighting up only when he found a victim to flirt with.
Skylar was perpetually leaning over the bar so far that Adam thought he was going to crawl over it. He had an interesting swirl of that popular-kid coolness that reeked of entitlement and the overeager excitement of a new puppy.
Adam made his way to the other end of the bar to replenish the drinks of a couple of regulars.
Gil and Ron were good-natured retirees who had been coming to Heathens since before Adam had taken over.
They joked that Heathens hosted their “wedding reception”—a handful of friends who gathered after they made their love official to the government at the courthouse. Gil and Ron were his favorites.
“Is that really Coburn?” Ron asked, Minnesota Northern Lights ball cap on his head.
“I was crushed last season when his shoulder got fucked up,” Gil added.
Adam wasn’t sure if he should be keeping some semblance of anonymity for Skylar, but his bar was small, and he already knew that Skylar basked in validation.
“It sure is. He seems pretty friendly.”
At the other end of the bar, Skylar’s soda was empty, so Adam went to pour him a beer.
“Now we’re talking,” Skylar said with a wink.
Had Adam ever been winked at before? It wasn’t something he would have claimed was attractive before, but one wink from Skylar and he had to take a breather.
He told Grace he was going to take a quick five in the office and ducked out of sight for a bit.
He was adjusting to a different schedule, and it was getting late.
That was probably why Adam was feeling weird.
He took a sip from his water bottle on the desk and a few deep breaths.
The bar closed at midnight on weeknights, and they were getting close.
When he came back out, Skylar had moved to a table with Gil, Ron, and a few other people, clearly holding court.
Yes, he looked like he was enjoying the attention, but it also looked like he was enjoying the company as well.
Since Heathens was small, and they never played music at eardrum-bursting levels, Adam could hear the rhythm of the conversation.
Every time Skylar answered someone’s question, he responded with a question of his own.
“Look at that little prom queen,” Grace said, leaning against the bar beside him. There wasn’t much of a Tuesday crowd. Mostly folks who worked weird hours or were retired, like Gil and Ron. Soon enough, it was just Skylar and a few other people left, and then it came down to just Skylar. Again.
“Don’t athletes need a lot of rest?” Adam asked, printing the receipt for Skylar’s tab for him to sign.
Grace had given him the heads-up that Skylar had asked to pay for everyone at his table that night.
He didn’t even blink at the total, leaving a fifty percent tip.
And his butt stayed in place on his stool.
“I’ll sleep when I get home.”
“You look pretty coherent tonight,” Adam observed.
“Yeah. Worried about the mean streets of Des Moines though.”
That got a laugh from Adam. The East Village on a Tuesday night wasn’t exactly a rip-roaring place. Skylar batted his eyelashes at Adam.
“Has anyone ever told you no?” Adam asked, untying the apron he had around his waist.
“If they have, I don’t remember it,” Skylar said, knowing he’d won.
“Fine. Grace, I’ll be right back.”
“Yes, sir, Mister Hockey Player Bodyguard, sir,” she said with a salute. God, he was never going to hear the end of it from her.
Adam locked the front door behind them as they left, and he headed toward Skylar’s apartment building. If it weren’t such a quick walk, he wouldn’t have entertained it. He wasn’t sure if Skylar was easy to say yes to, or hard to say no to, but either way, here they were.
“Thanks for entertaining my customers tonight. I know Gil and Ron are big Stars fans, so I’m sure you made their night.”
“I love them. I can’t believe Gil used to be a goalie. I’m going to get them tickets to a game.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Listen, I want to get out of here as soon as possible. I have worked my entire life to get to the NHL, and it’s like I can feel my career draining away down here.
But I like people. I like being around people.
I don’t like being alone, and I don’t have a roommate anymore, so I can’t just go home and go to sleep after a game.
I used to follow Beck home and hang out with him for a few hours, but he said he’s too old for that shit now, so…
” He shrugged, letting his thought peter out.
“Is Beck your boyfriend?” Adam asked carefully. He was hoping to knock out two birds with one stone.
“He’s my captain. And my best friend. And an old man.”
“How old?”
“Absolutely ancient, in hockey years.” Adam raised an eyebrow at him. “A year younger than you.”
“Right in the ego. If you’re not careful, I’m going to rescind all future free soda.”
“That wasn’t a one-off?”
“Grace said you haven’t scored a goal yet this year.”
“I’m a defenseman.”
“Score a goal and you can have a free soda.”
“Not even a beer? Not even a rail drink?”
“I’ll put a cherry in it next time.”
“Thank you for walking me home,” Skylar said when they reached his building. They didn’t pass a single person on the way. The sidewalks were well-lit and nicely taken care of. Even the crack Skylar tripped on the other night had been filled.
“I’m not making this a habit.”
“No?” Skylar said, giving Adam that killer can’t-turn-me-down look. “Can I have your number?”
“No,” Adam said. That probably answered the is he into men question he had.
“No? Can I give you mine?”
“I only accept phone numbers from customers on one-hundred-dollar bills.” No one had ever given him their number on a one-hundred-dollar bill, but it never hurt to ask.
Skylar took his wallet out and pulled out his cash. “I have thirty-seven dollars. Is that enough? Can I Venmo you?”
Adam laughed and pulled the front door of the apartment building open. “Good night, Skylar.”
Skylar smiled as he slipped into his building, and Adam headed back to the bar, mentally preparing for whatever Grace was going to say to him. The night was brisk, but it hadn’t snowed in over a week, so the streets and sidewalks were clear. A little bare, even.
“I don’t want to hear about it,” Adam said when he unlocked the front door of the bar and let himself back in. Grace had switched the music from the classic rock they usually had playing to something more upbeat. Young people’s music.
“I have nothing to say,” she said, putting up the chairs and barstools to clear the floor to be mopped. “Except that he obviously wants to explore your body.”
“Jesus.” Adam sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “He just doesn’t like to be alone ever, and his current solution is Heathens.”
“And he’s hoping his next solution is getting in your bed.”
Grace had the mop and bucket ready, so Adam took over. Grace hated mopping, but he didn’t mind it.
“He’s just flirty, and I’ve been in the line of fire. He asked for my number.”
“I’m surprised it took him so long. Has he texted you yet?”
“I didn’t give it to him.”
“Why not? You clearly like him.”
“I like that he spent nearly three hundred dollars here tonight.” Adam paused. “He’s too young for me, first of all. And second, he’s trying to make it up to the NHL as fast as he can. Plus, the last time I dated a hockey player, that was a mistake. That’s not something I’m looking for.”
“It doesn’t seem like you’re looking for anything.”
Adam focused on the floor where he was dragging the mop around. “I’m not, I guess.” He wasn’t, but he liked Skylar’s attention. It made him feel like a person. Like Adam Lark, and not someone’s uncle, or the guy behind the bar. He hadn’t felt like an individual in a long time.
“You can,” Grace said, her voice softer. “You’re allowed to have a life outside this bar.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but Skylar isn’t the solution to that problem.”
“All right, all right. You might not be into it, but his crush on you is cute. The whole night, every time he made that table that claimed him as their own laugh, he would look back to see if you noticed.”
Adam was grateful when Grace changed the subject, but he was thinking about Skylar until he finally climbed into bed, all by himself.