Chapter 11 #2
“And they just get to…be gay? Not to be an old guy, but I have a hard time imagining out gay professional athletes.”
“Ryan retired when he got traded because there’s no way you can tie yourself to someone contractually in pro sports.”
“He quit to be with Jackson?”
“Yeah. It’s romantic. They have that house together and a whole life. I mean, I’m sure guys have done long distance after being traded in the past and we’ve never heard about it, but Ryan said he was ready. He was going to retire from hockey sooner or later, and the trade forced his hand.”
Adam ate the most contemplative spoon of soup Skylar had ever seen before. He’d give his entire year’s salary to know what Adam was thinking in that moment.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“This is good soup.” Adam had a black belt in deflection.
“We had great soup in Texas, and I’m in the mood for it now.” Skylar told Adam more details about his roadie and was pleased to hear he’d watched Skylar’s games.
Below them, the bar rumbled quietly. Skylar could picture it: the warmth of the lights and easy joy on the faces of the customers.
“You ever play that?” Skylar asked, nodding his head toward the corner of a room where an acoustic guitar sat, looking like it was collecting dust.
“Used to. Haven’t in a while.”
“Will you play me a song?” He was already anticipating the “no” he’d get in return, but he had to try.
“No.”
“I’ll wear you down,” Skylar promised.
“I know you will.”
“Do you have an IRA?” Skylar changed the subject back to financial talk. He had about a thousand financial questions for Adam, but few of them were appropriate. If Adam wanted to talk about retirement accounts, that was fine. Skylar was happy to talk to him about literally anything.
“I do. I’m not ‘on track to retire.’ I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“Can’t run a bar forever, I guess.”
“Yeah, the bar isn’t my retirement plan.”
“What else do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I can’t imagine having a regular job. Clock in. Collect my paycheck. Clock out. Not having to have part of my brain actively thinking about work every hour of the day. What else would I do with my time?” He laughed at himself.
“I can help distract you from work if you want,” Skylar flirted as they polished off nearly all the food.
“I bet you could,” Adam said with a hint of wistfulness.
Skylar knew the same thing that was stopping him from dropping his heart directly into Adam’s lap was the same thing that was keeping Adam from pulling him into his lap.
It was already too complicated between the two of them to keep things simple.
They cleaned up the takeout. The sun had nearly set, even though it wasn’t late, and the two of them put on a movie.
“I like this painting,” Skylar said, settling back into the couch and pointing up and behind him at the large painting hanging above the couch, as the movie rolled through opening credits, volume low.
Skylar put his arm across the back of the couch and lifted the corner of the blanket on his lap, a clear invitation.
Adam surprised him by slotting in next to him and letting Skylar drape the blanket over the two of them.
He kept his arm on the back of the couch. For now.
“Our dad bought it for Heath when he opened up the bar. It was supposed to be this celebration of a cool space, but as you can see, it’s not a painting of a nightclub or anything.
It’s a reproduction. A painted copy of someone else’s painting, and I think my dad said he found it at an estate sale.
It’s not even a bar. It’s a cafe. It’s Nighthawks by Edward Hopper. ”
“It is the loneliest painting I’ve ever seen.”
“A lot of Hopper’s work is like that,” Adam said.
Skylar wasn’t the kind of guy who could casually refer to an artist and their body of work, but he could google the artist and take a look around at what else they’d painted.
He was impressed that Adam knew that off the top of his head, though.
It reminded him of Brandon’s artist boyfriend.
Skylar pulled up some more of his paintings. Landscapes and buildings. People looking in, or out. There was a distance Skylar felt from all of them, like he wasn’t supposed to get too close. Like he was supposed to view them from a distance.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“It’s beautiful, but Nighthawks isn’t the most fun painting in the world. It used to hang in the bar, but Grace hated it, so I moved it up here.”
“I can’t imagine it in the bar.”
“It didn’t fit, but I think Heath did it out of duty. Now it’s here.”
Skylar slid his arm off the back of the couch and onto Adam’s shoulders. And to his surprise, again, Adam let his body melt against Skylar’s. It felt tentative, like holding your crush’s hand at the movie theater when you were fourteen. Skylar had to force himself to breathe.
“Should we watch something more upbeat than that, now that we’re good and depressed?” Adam asked, flipping away from the drama they’d picked and back to the home screen.
“Yeah, let’s watch a comedy.”
Adam could have put any movie in the world on and Skylar wouldn’t have been able to report a single detail of it.
He had Adam’s strong shoulders under his arm, the blanket spread out over the two of them.
And about forty minutes into the movie, Adam adjusted so he was leaning more into Skylar, his hand coming up to rest on Skylar’s thigh.
Adam was always pumping the brakes on them. Skylar had few qualms about hopping into bed with someone right off the bat. Sexual compatibility was important, but he had to admit there was no replicating the butterflies that going this slow could produce.
One movie ended, and Adam put on a second. Skylar yawned.
“You’re not getting sleepy on me, are you?” Adam teased.
“You try living on an AHL schedule.”
“I’d rather not. I don’t even like covering the night shift at the bar.” Adam laughed.
“I’m not sleepy because I don’t want to go home,” Skylar said, punctuating his thought with another yawn.
“You can stay.” Adam’s offer was quiet, like it scared him.
“I can?”
“On the couch.”
Skylar laughed. Of course, on the couch. “I’m a professional athlete who needs high-quality rest, but I’ll sleep on your couch to show you how much I want to be here. You’re worth sleeping on the couch for.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’re hot and you make me feel good. It’s not complicated.
” Skylar didn’t want to make a big thing of it.
He didn’t want to scare Adam off by saying something like your bar has become my anchor because it brings me to you.
I look forward to seeing you as often as I can.
You aren’t weird around me because I’m some hockey player.
You make me smile. Your voice calms me down. “Just trust me.”
Adam squeezed Skylar’s thigh, and the movie kept playing.
It was fully dark out, and Skylar didn’t know exactly what time it was, but it was still the early evening and he was already fading.
Adam slipped out from under his arm and disappeared into his bedroom, returning with a pillow and blanket.
He tossed the pillow where he’d been sitting.
“Lie down,” he instructed, and Skylar did, scrunching his legs up to fit on Adam’s couch.
Next was the blanket, which Adam draped over him, tucking it around Skylar.
“I don’t want to go to bed yet,” Skylar argued.
“We can keep watching the movie.” Adam sat in the recliner next to the couch. He was still close enough to push Skylar’s hair out of his face.
And even though he swore he wouldn’t fall asleep during the movie, the next time he forced his eyes open, the movie was over. The TV was back to the cozy flickering of a fire. Adam was in the chair next to him, reading a book.
“I think it’s time for bed,” Adam whispered, looking like he’d stayed up late just so he wouldn’t have to wake Skylar up.
The toothbrush Skylar used last time was in the cup next to Adam’s.
The night was ridiculously cold out, well below zero, but Adam’s apartment wasn’t bad.
Adam found another blanket for him to sleep with if the one on the couch wasn’t enough, and then before Adam could slip away to bed, Skylar pulled him into a hug and breathed him in.
Things didn’t have to last forever in order to be good.
To be worth your time, your effort, your care.
He took Adam’s face in his hands again, pressing their foreheads together. Every second they were together felt charged. Like something was sparking in the air between them. He wanted to kiss Adam so, so badly.
And then to his surprise, Adam leaned in to press their lips together.
As soon as it began, it was over.
“Good night, Sky. I’ll wake up early enough to make you breakfast before you have to head to practice.”
“I get breakfast?”
“If you’re good.”
“You know I will be.” There was no innuendo there, but Skylar would shoehorn one in if it killed him.
Adam took one more glance at the thermostat, then disappeared into his bedroom.
Skylar flipped the lights off one by one until the soft glow of the flickering fire on the TV was the only light left.
He curled himself onto the couch. If he woke up in an hour or two feeling like shit, he could always move to the floor.
After getting his blankets settled over him, he reached for the remote to shut the TV off.
But on second thought…he put the remote back down.
The fire was cozy. He liked being here, in Adam’s apartment.
He’d prefer to be in Adam’s bed, but tonight had been a date, right? That had to count for something.