CHAPTER FOUR
“Hey, do you want to get married?” Tanner asked Leif a few minutes later, apropos of absolutely nothing.
Confused and horrified, Leif choked on his drink, spraying it across the table.
Zane’s eyebrow flicked up but he merely handed over a napkin to Leif, then dabbed at his tailored quarter zip burgundy sweater.
Leif winced. What a fantastic way to make an impression on one of the top queer executives in the league. Great job, Rasmussen, he chastised himself. Of course it was Tanner who had fucked it up for him.
It was always Tanner causing problems for him. Every single time.
“I’m sorry. What?” Leif asked hoarsely, turning to look at Tanner. “No, why on earth would I want to marry you? I don’t like you. I never have.”
“Not me,” Tanner said with a laugh, brushing his curly hair off his forehead. “Oh my God no. I don’t want to marry you either. I don’t want to marry anyone. I was just curious if you were into the idea in general.”
“You want to know if I plan to get married to someone I love someday?” Leif asked, wanting to be sure he’d gotten it right this time.
“Yeah, that.”
“Yes.” Leif took another sip of his spritzer, needing the fortification.
He hadn’t planned to drink alcohol at all tonight, but Ryan Hartinger had offered and well, it would have been rude to turn him down.
His drink of choice wasn’t very high in alcohol and right now, he was starting to deeply regret that.
“You do?” Tanner sounded surprised. “Huh.”
“Yes. How many times do I have to say it, Clayton? Someday, I want to fall in love and marry. For now, I’m worried about hockey. You should do the same.”
“I do worry about hockey!” Tanner protested. “But I play better when I’m getting laid on the regular.”
“Likely excuse.” Leif scoffed at the idea. Ridiculous. Everyone knew abstaining before a game led to better performance. Tanner probably hadn’t read any of the research on it. Hell, he wondered if Tanner could even read.
“No, it’s totally true!” Tanner protested. “It helps me focus or whatever.”
Leif frowned. “Do you have ADHD or something?”
Because now that Leif thought about it, it would certainly explain a lot about him. Like why he’d spent all evening jiggling his foot under the table and bumping into Leif’s leg.
Leif wanted to shift away from him but then he’d be in Ryan Hartinger’s personal space and that just seemed rude.
Besides, Ryan Hartinger was not a small man and he sprawled.
If it wouldn’t be totally inappropriate to think about with his husband sitting across the table from them, Leif might enjoy it, but as it was, it just crammed him closer to Tanner for no good reason and made the entire situation extremely awkward and uncomfortable.
Tanner shook his head. “Nope. I’ve been asked that before but I’m just … like this. You should have seen me as a little kid. I was bouncing off the fucking walls. It’s why my mom put me in hockey to begin with. She hoped it would tire me out.”
“Clearly it didn’t work,” Leif said drily.
“Nah, you should see me when I’m not playing,” Tanner said with a laugh. “I’m so much worse.”
“I am actually surprised to hear that you don’t have ADHD,” Mickey said slowly. “It would explain a lot about the way you struggle with household chores.”
He looked at Rafe, who nodded.
Mickey and Rafe were dating and must share an apartment with Tanner or something, Leif realized. He shuddered. No thank you. He preferred having his own space. Somewhere clean and quiet and restful.
Living with Tanner Clayton sounded like the worst sort of hell.
Tanner shrugged at Mickey. “Nah. It’s cool. I know I’m a hot mess.”
“Emphasis on hot!” Jesse called out from the other end of the table where he’d taken a seat.
Tanner blew him a kiss. “You know it, Webby!”
Leif suddenly wondered if they’d ever hooked up. God, maybe Tanner had hooked up with a bunch of guys here. But who? Leif glanced around, wondering.
There certainly was quite the collection of queer talent at this tournament. Including himself.
Leif had been scoring well enough this season to deserve his spot on the Nordic team’s roster.
His father had been pleased too. If only NHL players were allowed to play in the Olympics.
Not that Norway would be able to put on much of a showing in ice hockey—it was really more of a skiing country—but even being able to wear his country’s colors would be a point of pride.
“It wouldn’t really matter if you’d been diagnosed anyway, right, Clayton? Stimulants are banned,” Zane said, leaning forward and frowning at Tanner.
“I dunno.” Tanner shrugged.
“Surely there are exceptions,” La Bouche argued. “For therapeutic use.”
Zane shook his head. “No. Maybe in some leagues, but not in the NHL. Players can take non-stimulants, but even with a doctor’s exception, it’s not allowed.”
“How is that fair?” Mickey asked with a frown.
Zane’s frown deepened. “It isn’t. But I suppose it’s something that could be addressed in the future with the next collective bargaining agreement.”
“So, you use sex to focus?” Ryan asked, leaning into Leif’s space to talk to Tanner. Maybe Leif should just ask if they wanted to trade places.
Tanner lit up. “Oh, yeah, it totally clears my head. Shit, if I could get a blowie in the locker room between periods, that would be fucking perfect.”
Leif made a strangled noise, but Ryan leaned in farther. “Honestly, that would be sick, dude!”
“I know right?” Tanner leaned in too. “Can you imagine?”
“Literally the dream.”
More like a nightmare, Leif thought grimly.
“So did you and Murphy ever …?” Tanner waggled his eyebrows.
Ryan shook his head. “In the locker room? Nah. Zane wasn’t up for it.”
Zane, who looked as horrified as Leif felt, grimaced. “It would be totally inappropriate.”
“Thank you!” Leif said, relieved someone was being the voice of reason around here.
“Oh, c’mon, it would be so hot!” Tanner protested.
“Frenchie and Coach got up to some stuff in a supply closet at the practice facility once,” Ryan said with a waggle of his eyebrows, nodding at Gabriel.
Gabriel shot him a sly smile. “What happened to keeping our secret, friend?”
Noah Boucher laughed and said something in French that made Gabriel throw his head back and laugh too.
Leif blinked. He knew Gabriel was married to the assistant coach for the Evanston River Otters, Lance Tate, but he never would have expected them to be that inappropriate.
“Daaamn,” Tanner said approvingly, like he was picturing it. “That’s hot.”
From the other end of the table, Jesse grinned. “I’m pretty sure Graham and his boyfriend, Thad, were up to some stuff in a supply closet at HCI too.”
Graham let out a noise that sounded like a moose giving birth. “You knew?”
Jesse laughed. “You aren’t exactly good at lying, my dude.”
Conversation turned to public hookups after that, and Leif shook his head and downed the rest of his drink. Did none of these guys have an ounce of shame? What was wrong with having sex in a bed behind closed doors?
Not that Leif should really talk. Not after that handjob in the alley. What on earth had he been thinking? Oh, that’s right, he hadn’t been. He’d let Tanner Clayton goad him into a stupid decision.
AGAIN.
As Tanner recounted some god-awful story about getting a blowjob on a carnival ride—How?? Why?? Leif wondered with horror—a tray of drinks got passed around.
Ryan offered him a shot and Leif took it, downing it before he could think twice.
“Thought you weren’t drinking alcohol,” Tanner teased when Leif lowered the shot glass to the table.
“I changed my mind,” Leif said, plucking another shot from the tray nearby and tossing it back too.
Honestly, he felt rather nice now. A little more relaxed. A little less stressed about the upcoming tournament. He might regret it at practice tomorrow, but he’d hydrate well tonight and it would probably be fine. Right?
“Hell yeah, dude!” Tanner said, bouncing in his seat. “Let’s have some fun!”
He tapped Leif’s thigh with the back of his hand and a flush went through Leif’s body.
Oh shit, that was why Leif didn’t drink around Tanner Clayton. Tanner got handsy and Leif got … horny.
It was embarrassing but true.
His perpetual annoyance at Tanner somehow always morphed into heat and the alcohol muddied that. Sent his good judgment—and his pants—plummeting to the floor.
Leif did his best to ignore Tanner as the talk around the table turned a little more romantic, with guys reminiscing about how they’d met their partners. He relaxed when Tanner grew bored of the conversation, doing something on his phone.
Leif had meant what he said earlier to Tanner. He did want to be married someday but he couldn’t imagine it now.
It was hard enough dating anyone.
Leif didn’t have a lot of time for it to begin with, so he often got involved with guys he met through modeling.
But they had busy careers and traveled a lot too and sometimes he just …
didn’t feel like jumping through all of the hoops required to meet up with a guy who was only going to be in town for twenty-four hours, more than half of them working or sleeping.
Leif would never put a guy above hockey, so …
“Aww, that’s cute!” Tanner said out of nowhere, leaning in again to talk to Ryan and Zane again.
Leif had no idea what the story had been about, but he sucked in a breath when Tanner’s warm palm landed on his thigh, sending a little zing of heat through his body.
“Really?” he hissed. “Do you mind?”
Tanner just flashed him a bright smile and squeezed his leg.
Leif bit the inside of his cheek as that heat spread. Oh, it had been a while, hadn’t it?
The last guy he’d had sex with—Sérgio—was a distant memory and it hadn’t been that great. Sérgio had been the kind of guy who wanted to look good while he was getting railed. All concerned about angles and checking himself out in the mirror across the room from his bed.
Leif had found himself wondering if the guy was even enjoying it and then he’d worried he wasn’t fucking him well enough. What if his technique was bad?