Chapter 15 #3
“You wouldn’t be bad at it,” Nate argued loyally. Ramsey had good hands and great instincts for the field of play.
“No, I’d be fucking amazing,” Ramsey said, grinning as they headed over to a row of empty benches. “You’re an 11 right?”
“Why?”
Ramsey rolled his eyes. “I brought you skates, dummy. You don’t wanna use their cheap ass rentals.”
Oh. Yes. Skates.
Nate stared down at the pair of brand-new skates that Ramsey pulled out of his open bag. “Where did you even get these at such short notice?”
“I’m sponsored by Bauer. They love me. This face sells a lot of hockey gear, baby. Told them I needed a pair overnighted to me.”
It was surprisingly thoughtful.
“Besides,” Ramsey added with a smirk, “you’re with a hockey player now. You need skates.”
Nate almost declared this was the first and last time he was ever getting on the ice, but considering he’d actually planned this and he had no intention of letting Ramsey go, not anytime soon, clearly that was not going to be true.
Best to get used to it. Actually, best to get good at it.
“Alright,” Nate said, accepting them. “You think I should be wearing hockey skates.”
Ramsey, who’d pulled his own much more worn skates from his bag, glanced over at him. “Did you want to wear figure skates?”
“Isn’t there something else? Like something in-between?”
Ramsey burst out laughing. “Babe, no. You’ll like these. They’re good stuff. Had them sharpened at the practice rink this morning. Just enough. You should be good.” He paused. “Well. The skates should be good.”
“Hey,” Nate retorted without heat.
Patting him on the leg, Ramsey turned back to his own skates, lacing them up with quick, expert motions. Nate wondered how many years he’d been doing this. He’d heard talk of some guys getting on the ice before they could walk.
Maybe a question to ask once they were on the rink and Nate needed to distract Ramsey from how not good he was going to be at this.
It wasn’t hard to figure out the skates. Except that Nate had just gotten the first on when Ramsey stopped him.
“No, no,” he corrected. Then sighed. He’d already gotten his skates on, unsurprisingly. “Let me.”
“What—” But before he could ask what Ramsey meant, he was standing up, as steady as if he was on his own two feet, and tucking Nate’s skate boot between his legs. Leaning down, and Nate let out a surprised yelp as Ramsey tightened the laces.
“You’re not gonna be on your edges, so you don’t need them that loose,” Ramsey said under his breath. “Tighter will be better. Trust me.”
“I do,” Nate said, realizing as he said it that of course he meant it.
Ramsey must have realized it too, because his eyes flicked up to Nate’s, big and wide and so fucking blue.
“Yeah, I do,” Nate repeated more firmly this time. “Wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.”
This could mean the ice-skating. Or it could mean this whole relationship, and Nate realized that he meant both.
Maybe Ramsey realized it too, because he was quiet as he finished tightening the laces on Nate’s first skate and switched to the other.
“There,” he said, letting Nate’s foot drop to the ground after one last reassuring tug on the laces. “Better.”
“Thanks,” Nate said and tilted his head up.
Ramsey smiled, a small, private thing that, despite the frigid temperatures, made Nate feel warm inside. Outside too, like the two of them were tucked away in a cozy bubble that nothing and nobody could burst.
He leaned in and brushed his mouth across Nate’s cheek. “Anytime,” he said. “You ready to skate now, baby?”
Was he ready? Nate didn’t know about that, but he was going to do it anyway.
He stood and only Ramsey grabbing his arm saved him from toppling right over. And they were on solid fucking ground still, his skate blades sinking into the rubber mats scattered around the outdoor rink.
“Shit,” Nate muttered.
“Give it a sec,” Ramsey said, gently, with much more reassurance than Nate expected. He’d been such an ass about how hockey had to be easy, so easy anyone could do it, and here he was, unable to even stand up while wearing skates.
“I—” Nate cut off when he wobbled again. But then he felt like he steadied a bit. Enough to keep upright. “Okay. I think I’m okay.”
Ramsey raised an eyebrow but when he spoke, he was still being nicer than Nate probably deserved. “Just take your time,” he repeated. “You’re good.”
Nate let out a breath. Got his bearings and yeah, he really was going to be okay.
Still, Ramsey didn’t let go of him as they walked towards the rink. “Don’t be a hero,” Ramsey murmured under his breath. “Take it slow. And if you’re going to fall, just let yourself fall, okay?”
“I’m not going to fall,” Nate said. But then he took his first step onto the ice and promptly, immediately fell on his ass.
Ramsey leaned over him, and now he was laughing, under his breath. “Shit, babe, you did go right down, didn’t you.”
Nate made a face but took Ramsey’s arm when he held it out. And he’d known Ramsey was strong, but it was another to experience it, as Ramsey hauled him like he weighed fucking nothing.
“Yeah,” Nate grumbled.
“Told you. Go slow,” Ramsey counseled gently. “Come on. Try not to step but to glide.”
It took him a minute, but Nate felt like he got a handle on it. But of course when he did, that was the moment they reached the curve of the rink.
“Shit,” Nate exclaimed. “We gotta—”
“You got this. Just follow my lead.”
Nate wasn’t going to do anything else, because he really didn’t want to hit the ice again. Unsurprisingly, it was hard. And cold.
They cautiously, gingerly, skated around the first curve. Okay, he’d done it. Nate relaxed a fraction. Loosened his death grip on Ramsey’s forearm, and when he did, Ramsey looked over at him, eyes dancing with delight.
“You good, baby?”
“Better,” Nate said. Now that he’d gotten the hang of the balance and the rhythmic motion of the skating, it was easier. He’d never be fast. Or agile. Or ever be able to play a game while on skates, but maybe he wouldn’t embarrass himself.
“Yeah, you’re a natural,” Ramsey teased.
Nate barked out a laugh, then regretted that, because of how it shifted his weight and made him wobble terrifyingly.
“I mean it,” Ramsey said seriously. “You took to it faster than I thought you would.”
Several people, all clearly experienced skaters, fast and nimble, skated past them at a much quicker clip, and Nate didn’t miss how Ramsey eyed them.
“You can . . .you know, skate without me. I’m good. Really.”
But Ramsey just shot him an incredulous look.
“I mean it,” Nate reassured him. “I’m not gonna die without you holding me up.”
“Maybe later,” Ramsey said casually. “I’m good right here. We came to skate together, not for you to watch me skate circles around you.”
There was a part of Nate that desperately wanted to tease back that he couldn’t, even if he wanted to, but there was no way that was even remotely true.
Ramsey absolutely could, and would.
But he wasn’t, and that was pretty sweet, actually.
“How long have you been doing this?”
Ramsey glanced over. “This?”
“Skating. Were you one of those kids who started skating before they can walk?”
Ramsey gave a short laugh. It was such a strange detour from his earlier sweetness that Nate did a double take, nearly falling over in the process.
Reaching a hand out, Ramsey caught him just in time, his hand closing firmly around Nate’s arm.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked.
Nate was sure he was concerned. But he was also semi-convinced Ramsey was trying to change the subject.
“So did you?” Nate repeated.
Ramsey made a face again. “Did Wes tell you?”
“Did Wes tell me what?”
“I mean, it’s not like it’s a secret. I’m sure it’s in my Wikipedia.”
“What is?” Nate was so confused; torn between wishing he hadn’t brought it up in the first place, and also terribly curious what had Ramsey acting this way.
Ramsey sighed. “My . . .well, my foster dad taught me to skate. And I wasn’t young, I was actually old for it. Nine, in fact.”
There’d been more than once that Ramsey had surprised him. But Nate didn’t think he’d ever been as surprised as he was in this moment.
But God, that explained so much. Ramsey had been a foster kid.
“No, I didn’t know. Wes didn’t tell me. And I didn’t read your Wikipedia.”
“Come on,” Ramsey said, clearly trying for a teasing, affectionate tone, “why not? I think my feelings are hurt.”
That was easy enough to explain. And easier than dealing with Nate’s suddenly complicated emotions about finding out yet another secret that Ramsey hadn’t ever told him. Though him keeping this quiet at least made a lot more sense than the fact he was part owner of Vault.
“I didn’t because I kind of thought—hoped, anyway—that anything that the world knew about you, you’d want to tell me yourself.”
Nate felt rather than saw Ramsey flinch. Realized how that sounded. And added, before Ramsey could freak out even more, “But I get why you didn’t share this. That’s . . .that’s a big thing. A private thing. And until the last few weeks, I can’t say we were ever friends.”
“We were never friends,” Ramsey agreed easily. He seemed to have relaxed some, at least. “It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you. I did. But it’s also a hard thing to bring up, especially when you’re not used to talking about yourself.”
Nate took that to mean what he assumed it meant—which was that Ramsey was unused to telling any of his hookups anything that was personal or private about himself.
But he’d wanted to tell Nate. That much was obvious, from the yearning in his voice.
“I get it,” Nate said softly. “That must’ve been hard.”
“Being a foster kid or having my foster dad be my hockey coach?” Ramsey asked wryly.
“Yes?”
Ramsey chuckled. “Sort of, yeah. I bounced around a lot. But then at nine, when I ended up with the Hood family, and the dad, Daniel, figured out I could skate? Could play when I stopped falling over every five seconds? I was safe.”
It was painfully easy to read between the lines. Ramsey had only been safe with that foster family as long as he played hockey. As long as he excelled at hockey.
“It’s kind of amazing you didn’t end up hating it,” Nate said gently.
“Loved it from the first moment I got on the ice.” Ramsey’s voice was a mix of wistful joy. “I guess I was lucky that way.”
“Better than lucky, I’d say,” Nate said.
“Never wanted to be anything other than a hockey player, the moment I hit that ice. And I was behind, so I had to work harder, and I learned, too, that if I used my brain and worked smarter, that was even better.”
Nate could see that. He could imagine Ramsey being eleven or twelve and already smarter than everyone around him. A kid that didn’t have any advantages except that big brain, trying desperately to level the playing field until it was fair.
But even then, it was probably never that fair.
“That all makes a lot of sense.”
The corner of Ramsey’s mouth quirked up as they made their way around another turn. “Yeah? You feel like you’re close to unlocking all my secrets?”
Nate actually thought that maybe he was—he’d take at least some of the credit, but if Ramsey hadn’t ever wanted to share, he never would have. As for him? Nate knew he wasn’t much of a mystery, not like Ramsey was, but it was undeniable that Ramsey knew him now, inside and out.
Ramsey probably knew that Nate had already fallen in love with him. He’d probably known it the moment it happened and Nate couldn’t even be angry about that. All he felt was a dizzying kind of relief that Ramsey must know how he felt and he still kept wanting to be with Nate.
Nothing had sent him running for the hills. Yet. Maybe ever.
“Maybe I am. Maybe I like it.”
“Just like it?” Ramsey’s smile was fully back now, light and joyful, and Nate wanted, suddenly and stupidly, to throw caution to the wind and tell him the truth.
Actually, I love it. I love you.
Because that was what his feeling had to be right? This bright bubble of light that seemed to be permanently lodged under his breastbone, that only glowed fiercer every time he looked over at Ramsey.
“No,” Nate said and didn’t elaborate.
Ramsey only smiled harder, and didn’t ask him to, which to Nate’s mind was definitely all the confirmation he needed that Ramsey knew the truth.
Knew the truth and was doing the opposite of panicking about it.
“Can I ask . . .” Nate trailed off. Knowing he probably could. But still feeling unsure how to do it.
Of course Ramsey understood what he was asking, instantly. “Why was I a foster kid?”
Nate nodded.
“That’s pretty much the one thing everyone wants to know,” Ramsey admitted wryly.
“The nice answer is my mom died, and there wasn’t a dad in the picture.
The not-so-nice answer is she was a drug addict, probably couldn’t figure out who my dad was from the sheer number of possibilities, and then she did die, from an overdose. ”
“God, I’m so sorry.” Nate wondered if he shouldn’t have asked.
But Ramsey only shrugged. “It’s awful, for sure.
But if I’d ended up with her for longer?
Who knows what I’d have gotten dragged into.
” He looked over at Nate and squeezed his hand.
“I wouldn’t be a professional hockey player.
I wouldn’t own a bar. I wouldn’t have ever met Wes.
I wouldn’t be here, with you. Whenever I want to get angry about the things that happened to me, I remember all of that too.
I remember that I built my own goddamn life, exactly how I wanted it. ”
“Yeah, you did.” It was so fucking impressive. So many people looked at Ramsey and saw only the pretty face. Or assumed, because he was a hockey player, that he was dumb as hell.
But the more Nate saw of him, the more secrets he uncovered, the more in awe of the guy he was. The deeper he fell in love with him.
“Hey, you good? I’m gonna stretch my legs a bit.” Ramsey shot him a mischievous look. “And maybe show off for the super hot guy who brought me here.”
Nate nodded. “And the super hot guy is pretty sure he’s going to be very impressed.”
“Pretty sure?” Ramsey confirmed.
Nate didn’t have to see any of Ramsey’s skills to know, without a doubt, that he was great, but it was still fun to paste a skeptical look on his face and watch as determination flooded Ramsey’s features.
“You got it, baby,” Ramsey teased and took off like a shot, suddenly whizzing around the rink with quick, efficient movements. Dazzling Nate as easy as breathing.
Then he did it backwards, a shit-eating grin on his face as he passed by Nate.
“Impressed yet?” he called out.
“Very,” Nate said, and Ramsey’s smile softened. Took on that private tilt to it that Nate hadn’t seen him give to anyone but him.
And, not for the first time, he thought—but really, genuinely started to believe—that this thing between them might not just be something, but might be everything.