CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX #2
Leif chuckled. “Yeah, the coaching carousel gets pretty tedious.”
“I wonder what it’s like for the Harriers. They’ve got a younger GM. He’s hot too.”
Surprised, Leif chuckled again. “Yeah, Racine’s not bad.”
“I won’t say anything about the coaching staff since your dad’s on it.” Ian shot him a smile.
“Thanks for that,” Leif said with a small laugh. “I appreciate it.”
“I feel a little bad saying this, but hopefully whoever they get will move some of the old guys on the roster out,” Ian said. “I mean, we have a fair number of UFAs. Maybe they’ll test the market and go elsewhere.”
“We can hope,” Leif agreed. “You know, good looks aside, I’ve heard great things about Gavin Racine from guys on the Harriers’ roster.”
“Who do you know on—oh right, you were in Juniors with Tanner Clayton.”
“Yeah,” Leif said, suddenly feeling flustered. Ugh. Why had he brought him up?
“Bad blood there?” Ian asked.
“Mmm,” Leif managed. “It’s complicated. We drive each other nuts on the ice. Off it … we get along.”
That was putting it mildly, but what else could he say?
Thankfully, Ian didn’t press him, and the conversation segued to talk of the Rockets’ playoff chances, which were looking slimmer and slimmer by the day. They’d been clinging to a wild card spot for months, sliding down a position or two in the rankings, then rising again.
That had been the story with the Rockets for several years now. Hovering in the mushy middle. Too good to get any blue-chip draft prospects. Too bad to manage anything but humiliating losses in the early rounds.
This season wasn’t looking much better. Not that Leif wouldn’t fight until the bitter end to win; he just wasn’t holding his breath about anything.
“Want to come with me to walk the dog?” Ian asked a little while later as their discussion about playoffs finally wound down and Emmie was whining near the door.
“Sure,” Leif said, standing.
It didn’t take them long to grab their coats and a leash and as they reached the sidewalk, Emmie trotted out ahead of Ian and Leif fell into step beside him.
Ian lived in a charming little suburban neighborhood, and it was an overcast but pleasant day. It had rained earlier and the air smelled like fresh wet grass. Not bad for late March. Leif couldn’t imagine ever wanting to leave the city but this was nice.
Emmie sniffed a lot of things and barked at a squirrel and peed and they made a couple of loops around the block before they returned to his house.
Leif had been planning to excuse himself, but when he paused by his car, Ian said, “You wanna stay for dinner? It’s dietician approved.”
Leif thought about it and honestly, what did he have to lose? At this time of day, even if traffic going into the city wouldn’t be nearly as bad as that going out of it, he didn’t really feel like fighting it.
Might as well hang out with Ian.
“Sure,” he said. “That sounds nice.”
In the house, Ian took care of the dog, washed his hands, then pulled some pre-prepped stuff from the team chef out of the freezer so Leif could pick what he wanted. They threw the two aluminum pans in the oven to heat and prepared a salad.
Ian turned on music—something instrumental—and Emmie wandered around, sniffing the floor near their feet, hopeful for delicious scraps. Apparently, she was real sucker for carrots. Ian tossed her a little chunk of one, and she happily crunched into it, her tail wagging.
“I had no idea dogs could even eat carrots,” Leif admitted.
Ian smiled. “They’re a pretty good treat for them actually. She’s really into ice cubes too. If you give her one, you’ll be her best friend for life.”
Leif dutifully went over to the refrigerator and got a small handful from the ice maker. He held one cube out to Emmie, who sniffed it and licked it out of his hand where it fell to the floor. The others were melting in Leif’s hand, so he tossed them gently on the floor too.
When he glanced up, Ian was smiling. “Why the hell didn’t I invite you over to hang out before this?” he asked.
Leif shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m bad at that sort of thing too.
I never think to invite people and I always worry I’m making it weird.
T—uh”—he cleared his throat, the name Tanner stuck in his mouth, because he’d been about to drop that without even thinking.
Ugh, what is wrong with me?—“This guy I know, he could literally make friends with anyone. Just a total social butterfly.”
Ian smiled. “Yeah, I have a friend like that. He’s really … smooth. Just the kind of guy who has everyone eating out of his hand. Charisma, I guess? I’ve never had it, but I know it when I see it.”
Leif chuckled. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
He asked Ian if he minded Leif taking a picture of the dog to share with his friend and Ian shook his head.
“Go for it. She’s a pretty girl.”
Emmie lifted her head and wagged her tail.
Leif smiled and snapped the picture. He intended to send it to Tanner—who he belatedly realized he’d never responded to earlier—but before he could open the texting app, the timer on the oven beeped.
He stuffed his phone back in his pocket and went to help Ian get dinner on the table.
They ate in the kitchen, with Emmie looking at them with hopeful eyes as she lay on the floor nearby.
“Thanks for this,” Leif said when dinner was over because it had been really nice actually. He and Ian had more in common than he’d realized. “Let me help you clean up.”
After everything was in the dishwasher and the kitchen was tidy, Ian hesitated. “Look, if you want to get back into the city, I understand,” he said. “But if not, I’m gonna put the New York Lights game on in a few. You’re welcome to join me.”
Leif shrugged. “I’m not a huge basketball guy, but I could watch.”
They settled in the living room and this time, Emmie sprawled next to Leif and put her chin on his thigh. He smiled at her and reached for his phone, snapping another picture of her.
“So if you aren’t a big basketball guy, how much do you know about March Madness?” Ian asked.
“Uhh,” Leif said, setting his phone down again. “Not much. You want to explain it to me?”
Ian launched into a description of the playoff format and Leif nodded intently as he listened. “You’re rooting for the Lights, yes?”
“Yep,” Ian said. “I’ve become a huge New York fan this season.”
“Who were you rooting for before?”
“The Toronto Titans.”
Leif squinted. “You’re not from Toronto, right?”
“Nope. British Columbia.”
“That’s what I thought. And I know you never played for the Fisher Cats. Then, why …”
Ian laughed and gestured to the TV where a basketball player was being interviewed. The banner on the screen said his name was Travis Rogers and he was a point guard for the Titans. He was handsome, with medium brown skin, hair cut in a fade with short curls on top, and an electric smile.
“Wow. I don’t blame you,” Leif said drily. “I’d follow him too.”
Ian laughed again. “Well, yeah, there’s that. He’s also a buddy of mine.”
“Yeah?” Leif asked, a little surprised for some reason.
“We grew up together,” Ian explained.
“Oh, that makes sense.”
“That charismatic guy I told you about earlier …” Ian grinned. “That’s Travis.”
“That I can see,” Leif said, watching the way the reporter responded to him, clearly charmed. “He could be a model.”
“He’s been asked.”
Leif scoffed. “So could you for that matter.”
Ian snorted. “I dunno about that. He’s way better looking than I am.”
“Wait,” Leif said slowly as pieces came together. “Is he—is Travis Rogers who you have a thing for?”
Ian flushed. “Uhh …”
“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want,” Leif assured him.
“No, it’s true.” Ian sighed. “I can trust you not to spread this around, right?”
Leif nodded. “Of course.”
“I’ve had a huge crush on Travis since I was a kid. I mean, he’s … look at him. And he’s an even better person on the inside if you can believe it.”
“Damn,” Leif said.
“But it’s … you know, it’s not going to happen. And I get it. It just sucks. And I’m kinda … stuck. Not really able to move forward, you know?”
Leif nodded again. And then, because they always did, his thoughts turned to Tanner.
As annoying and chaotic and … Tanner as he could be, there was something special about him. Something bright and funny and kind-hearted and good.
And Leif wondered if he’d end up just like Ian, stuck and unable to move on.