Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
SKYLAR
“Do you trim your beard every day? Is that why it’s so perfect?
” Skylar asked, munching on the eggs and toast Adam made him—as promised—as he watched Adam get ready in the bathroom.
The compact apartment meant he could lean against the archway to the kitchen with his food and still be about two feet away from where Adam was trimming his beard.
Somehow, his apartment was bigger than Skylar’s.
“Pretty much every day.”
“So you have this sexy mess of hair on your head, but the hair on your face needs daily minding.”
“I’m not sure if ‘sexy mess’ is correct,” Adam said, running a hand through the sexy mess of his hair, proving Skylar’s point as it flopped to the side in a perfect arch over his forehead.
“Sure. What do you even look like without a beard?”
“Uhh…” Adam set his trimmer down on the sink. He took one step out of the bathroom to point at a photo on the wall, hung in a collection of what looked like old family photos. “That.”
“Which one are you?”
“The little one. That’s me and Heath.”
“Okay. You’re, like, seven here. That doesn’t count. Very cute though.”
Adam laughed and told Skylar more about the photos on the wall. Plenty of Heath and Grace, but also his parents and his extended family.
“That one’s from Heath’s funeral,” Adam said, finger lingering on the frame of a photo of a bunch of sad faces, huddled together in grief.
“Who’s this?” Skylar asked, pointing to the man standing behind Adam, hands on his shoulders.
“That is Joe. My boyfriend at the time. I don’t have any photos from Heath’s funeral without him, so I’ve made my peace with that.”
“What happened with him?”
Adam sighed. “I moved to Iowa to run the bar. He stayed in Minnesota.”
“And long distance didn’t work?”
“We didn’t try.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Was he a jerk?”
“No, he was a perfectly nice man. He’s married now, and happy. If it had been destined to work between the two of us, it would have.”
“Is he your stone unturned?”
“What?” Adam asked, heading back into the bathroom to fuss with his beard a bit more.
“The one that got away?”
“It took me years to move on from that thought of ‘could this have worked?’ But I did. He and his husband have a hobby farm an hour outside of the cities. I’m not cut out for that kind of thing.”
Not wanting to run a hobby farm didn’t seem like the real reason, but Skylar didn’t look back on his past short relationships with a whole lot of logic.
Adam put his trimmer away and headed into the living room to warm his hands up against the space heater they’d brought out of the bedroom when they’d woken up.
He checked his watch. “Furnace guy will be here soon. I should go down and wait for him. And make sure the pipes didn’t burst. I don’t want you to think I’m kicking you out, but you should go home and be warm. ”
“I gotta start getting ready for practice anyway,” Skylar said, setting his empty plate in the sink.
He was wearing yesterday’s clothes because nothing of Adam’s was going to fit him.
It wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep a change of clothes in his size here.
He pulled Adam against him, wrapping him up in a tight hug.
“Thanks for keeping me warm last night.”
“I’m sorry again. It’s so fucking embarrassing to have this broken-ass building.”
“First, you know I’m not upset about ending up in your bed. And second, this is a cool historic place. Don’t apologize to me. No one is forcing me to be here. I like it here.”
“Okay. I will be better about believing you when you say stuff like that.”
“Thank you. Tell me how the meeting with the furnace guy goes,” Skylar said, pressing a kiss to Adam’s lips, then his cheek, then his forehead before putting his boots back on and heading out.
He floated down the stairs to the back parking lot, grateful when his SUV started on the first try.
He didn’t know why it was so easy for him to imagine a future with Adam.
Waking up next to him and heading off to morning skate or practice.
Coming home from a road trip and slipping into bed with him to hold his warm body.
Sitting in the kitchen while Adam cooked for him.
Basking in his presence. He had a hard time having any thought that didn’t loop back around to Adam.
Skylar didn’t know if he’d ever been in love before, but if love felt like this—sweet, soft, comfortable, all-consuming, and heady—he could get into it.
Skylar loved what working out did for his brain. In the gym, when there was no pressure to perform, he could focus on what lifting made him feel like and nothing else. He didn’t get frustrated or upset. It was easy for him to regulate his emotions.
Well, usually nothing made his thoughts stray from his workout.
Since the road room reassignments, Skylar had been making a bigger effort to befriend Walker.
He should be an expert at befriending grumpy people who were annoyed by him by now, but while Beck and Adam both seemed secretly delighted by Skylar’s bullshit underneath everything, Walker was not as charmed.
He also had a plate full of…who knows what.
Skylar thought about how he’d said that everyone had more than one thing going on in their lives.
He looked over at Walker in the mirror where he was lifting free weights next to Skylar with the most intensely worried expression on his face that Skylar had ever seen.
“How are you doing, man?”
Walker maintained eye contact with himself as he checked his form with every bicep curl. He let out a breath. “Fine.”
“You look like you’re carrying a metaphorically heavy weight along with the literal ones.”
That got the smallest smile from Walker. Or, not a smile, but a bit of relief in the V of his forehead.
“Nothing more pressing than normal.”
“Just tightly wound,” Skylar said, seeing the tension return to Walker’s forehead. “Sorry, I’m joking with you.”
“I’m naturally anxious.”
“I’m not out here advocating for drug use, but you seem like a great candidate for a fun gummy here or there.
” By now, Skylar had all of his physical therapy exercises for his shoulder memorized, and he ran through the routine without having to think too much about it.
He forced himself to feel gratitude for the strength he’d gotten back in the joint, especially seeing how Beck’s knee was.
“If I did that, knowing me, I wouldn’t even feel anything, and then they would drug test me the next day and I’d get kicked off the team.”
“Maybe a beer, then? There’s this bar I like that I’ll take any excuse to go to.”
“I don’t really drink either.”
“They have cute bartenders.” He watched Walker’s eyebrow lift. Okay. Maybe he could work with this. Everyone had a vice.
They finished out their post-practice workout, and Skylar convinced Walker to give him a ride to the bar.
Beck had picked him up for practice, but he’d still be in Coach’s office when they were ready to leave.
He also knew Beck wouldn’t want to go to Heathens.
He shot off a text to let him know he was off the hook, and he and Walker had a quiet drive over to the bar.
There was a difference between someone who was introverted, quiet because they chose their words carefully or only added to the conversation when absolutely necessary, and someone who was legitimately shy. Adam was the former. Walker was the latter.
Skylar led the way into the building, choosing a seat at the bar that he’d frequented plenty of times before. He didn’t see Adam anywhere, but Willa and Tanner were both working, and regardless of Walker’s gender preference, he had two solid options.
“Hey, dude,” Willa greeted, a big smile on her face for Skylar. Skylar always tipped well, so he knew Adam’s bartenders liked him for a very specific reason. He was plenty happy with that reason. “What are you having tonight?”
“I’ll take the All Day IPA. Walker, you’re committed to no alcohol?”
“I drove here.”
“Responsible. Can I entice you with a Shirley Temple? They make a good one here.”
“We make pretty much the same one as anywhere else,” Willa confirmed with a smile.
“Sure, I’ll have the child’s drink.” Walker was bright red from Willa’s attention, her eyes raking over Walker.
“We make them for all ages, I promise. Skylar’s had about eighty of them in the last month. We had to up our order of grenadine for him. Sprite or ginger ale?”
“Get the ginger ale,” Skylar cajoled. If he didn’t like it, Skylar would buy him some Sprite.
“Sure, I’ll have…whatever he says.”
Willa poured Skylar’s beer and made the Shirley Temple, adding more maraschino cherries than Skylar had ever received.
Walker finally managed a smile in her direction as she walked away, clearing glasses someone left on the bar as she went.
“Willa’s pretty,” Skylar suggested.
“Yeah,” Walker said. He took a sip of his Shirley Temple and rolled his eyes at Skylar. “Fine, this is good.”
Skylar preened. He loved being correct.
Walker’s shoulders were always up at his ears, so Skylar calmed him down by discussing their upcoming schedule and the tape they’d watched that afternoon.
Most hockey guys could transition easily from talking about literally anything to hockey in less than one sentence, and as a person trying to make a friend with someone he still didn’t know very well, he would take what he could get.
They chatted as they had their drinks, and when they were ready for refills, Tanner came over.
He had big shoulders and long hair that he’d pulled back, a few little pieces of it falling out of his ponytail.
Skylar got a second beer, and Walker looked just as shell-shocked interacting with Tanner as he had with Willa.
Skylar wouldn’t come to any conclusions about that, but it was interesting data, regardless.