Chapter 5 Yapping The Night Away
YAPPING THE NIGHT AWAY
Elliot
MONDAY
Alex
Good morning sunshine! It’s a beautiful Monday, the beginning of a beautiful week! Get out there and make the most of the day!
Elliot
Okay first of all, your bag absolutely does not match your team’s colors. Gold, red, gray and neon green? Disaster. Do you wear that thing everywhere?
Second of all, you texted me a mirror selfie at five a.m. on a Monday? Are you insane?
Alex
And you took five hours to text me back. Tsk tsk, new friend. That’s lazy bear behavior. Don’t you have practice today? We had to be on the ice at seven and I had to get a workout in before then.
And yes. I wear Franny everywhere, and she goes with everything, thank you very much.
Elliot
No practice. Unless we’re playing Monday or Thursday Night Football, we have Mondays off. I’m not a lazy bear! I’m a *resting* bear, there’s a difference.
Alex
You football players have it so easy, one game a week for eighteen weeks. How do you fill all that free time?
Elliot
Coming from the hockey player. You guys play for, what, four minutes at a time?
Alex
Uh, Mr. Pot, I’d like you to meet my friend, Mr. Kettle. You might get along really well, you’re the exact same color. You’re a kicker, El. I could probably count on one hand the total number of minutes you’ve spent on the field in your entire career. And I’m a goalie, we don’t play in shifts.
But you know that already. You’ve been watching me, Baker ;)
Elliot
Guilty as charged, Holmes. Though one could argue…if you know how many minutes I’ve spent out on the field…
Alex
Last year you made twenty-eight out of thirty-six field goal attempts, an average of 77.8%. In the postseason, you brought your average up, making ten out of eleven tries. Overall, your average went down half a percent from the previous season, but you made eleven more attempts that season.
Elliot
You’ve been watching me, too.
Alex
Call it having a vested interest in my new friend.
Elliot
Call it what you want, Alex.
Alex
We should ask each other questions so we can get to know each other better.
Elliot
Like speed dating?
Alex
I don’t know. I’ve never been speed dating. I’m thinking more like the question game from when we were teenagers. When you’d be texting a girl and you ask her her favorite color, then her favorite movie, then her bra size. You gotta start off inconspicuous before you get to the good stuff.
Elliot
Hmm, can’t say I ever had that experience.
I’m a 38 B, by the way.
Alex
You’re a smart ass, is what you are.
Elliot
That I am. I’m down to play the question game. You go first.
Alex:
Alright. What’s the most played track on your playlist?
Elliot
Oh, that’s a good one. Probably something by RüFüS DU SOL. Innerbloom or On My Knees, if I had to guess.
Alex:
That totally tracks. I can just see you making your morning coffee, the bass in your speakers pumping while you bliss out. Were you an EDM/raver kid in college?
Elliot
It’s more electronica and deep house, but sure. I enjoyed my fair share of recreational fun at EDM festivals during the offseason when I was a young buck. Was that your second question?
Alex
Sure, you can ask me two to catch up
Elliot
Alright, then same question. What’s the most played track on your playlist?
Alex
I have different playlists for different moods, but my most played track overall is I Got Nerve by Hannah Montana
Elliot
…
I fear I don’t know how to respond to that…
Alex
Hey, no judgement. It’s my pump up song. It gets me going before practice, before games, before sex.
Elliot
You do NOT play Hannah Montana before you have sex, do you?
Alex
Is that your second question?
Elliot
I guess it is.
Alex
Then my answer is…
Wouldn’t you like to know?
TUESDAY
Elliot
I have my question for today.
Alex
I have an answer. Also, when did we decide to only ask one question per day?
Elliot
We didn’t, but I happen to like a little delayed gratification. Why not drag the game out a bit?
Alex
Fair, I’m down to edge each other.
Elliot
…I think I might have asked for that.
Alex
Asked for what?
Elliot
Never mind. Let me ask my question.
Alex
I’m waiting with bated breath.
Elliot
Ok, so I know hockey players are notoriously suspicious
Alex
Understatement of the century
Elliot
And you said that Franny the fanny pack comes with you everywhere, right?
Alex
She does. She’s my emotional support bag.
Elliot
So…do you wear her under your pads?
Alex
God, I wish. I tried to lobby the team to let me add her to my uniform, but no such luck. Franny brings me luck from her home in my locker during games.
Elliot
Hmm. I bet she’d like to see you play sometime. Do you think Franny could still bring you luck from the stands?
Alex
I think she could bring me luck anywhere, but I’m afraid if I get her a ticket with her own seat, someone might take her.
Elliot
You’re adorable.
I thought maybe I could bring Franny to watch you play. Maybe in a few weeks, the Hockey Cares benefit night? A bunch of guys from my team are going to be there in the crowd anyway.
Seems…serenditpitous.
Alex
Oh my god. Omg omg omg, you’d do that for Franny?
Elliot
Of course! And I mean, I might have some ulterior motives…
Alex
Oh? What are they?
Elliot
Watching my new friend play, duh.
Alex
Oh…
Oh :)
Elliot
Don’t you want to ask me a question?
Alex
Oh. Yes. Uhm.
Do you think dreams have hidden meanings?
Elliot
That’s an interesting one. I don’t know. I think that mostly, dreams are just the nonsense our brains spew while we’re unconscious, but that doesn’t mean that nonsense isn’t influenced by what’s really on our minds.
Alex
And maybe sometimes they’re trying to open our eyes to things we can’t quite understand when we’re awake.
Elliot
Have you been having interesting dreams lately, Alex?
Alex
Interesting. Sure. Let’s go with that.
WEDNESDAY
Alex
I’m bored.
Elliot
Don’t you have a game starting in like, fifteen minutes?
Alex
Something like that. But I’m warmed up and waiting and bored. Let’s play more of the question game. Rapid fire style. We both get to ask, we both have to answer.
Elliot
Alright then. Favorite movie? Mine is Happy Gilmore.
Alex
Solid choice. I’m a rom-com guy. Mine is Clueless.
Elliot
That doesn’t shock me one bit. And a great choice. Paul Rudd is soooo *heart eyes emoji* That man is like fine wine. He keeps getting better with age.
Alex
I hope I’m lucky enough to age backwards like Paul. What’s your go-to ice cream flavor?
Elliot
Cookie dough, duh.
Alex
DUH! Cookie dough is the superior flavor. We’re ice cream compatible! We need a movie night. Happy Gilmore, Clueless, and a big ass tub of cookie dough ice cream.
Elliot
I’ll bring the antacids.
Alex
Such a Boy Scout.
Elliot
If you weren’t a hockey player, what would you want to be when you grow up?
Alex
I feel you should know that I am currently crossing my fingers behind my back and I’ve knocked on all the wood. I want to be a hockey player when I grow up, of course.
Elliot
Of course! I never should have put that out into the universe.
Alex
Thank you. However, in another life, I’d be an archaeologist.
Elliot
Oh yeah? Were you into dinosaurs and Indiana Jones and Ross from Friends as a kid?
Alex
No, but I did an anthropology minor in college and I loved the archaeology requisites. I was really into digging in the dirt. What about you?
Elliot
I do like getting my hands dirty, but science has never really been my thing. I think if I weren’t a football player, I’d want to be a teacher. I think I’d make a kick ass high school history teacher.
Alex
I could see that. You’d be the hard ass that all the students inexplicably love.
Elliot
Right. My class would be notoriously difficult, but everyone would be vying to have me on their schedule. My lectures would be legendary.
Alex
I could listen to you talk about the French Revolution and absolutism for hours.
Elliot
I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.
Alex
You should. I’ve gotta gear up now.
Elliot
Get out on that ice, hit some sticks and smash some skulls. Make San Francisco proud.
Alex
You know, there’s very little stick hitting and skull smashing on my side of the ice…
Elliot
I’m aware.
Good luck, Alex. I’ll be watching.
Alex
Phew, no pressure.
Elliot
Dude. Dude. Dude. Holy shit. What the hell? That was amazing!!
Alex
*dusts off shoulder* ain’t no thang
Elliot
Alex. Are you kidding me? I’ve never seen a shutout like that in my life. Half of those saves could make the end of the season highlight reel.
Alex
I know, right? I was trying to be modest but…I’m pretty fucking awesome. Did you see the one in the second period where the puck ricocheted off my stick behind me and landed in my glove?
Elliot
Yeah I saw it. I paused my TV and took a picture of you holding the puck up while still face down on the ice. It's going on my vision board.
Alex
Your vision board? You want to be a big-time hot-shot goalie some day?
Elliot
No, I’m good with football. I just want to look as effortlessly cool as you do when committing god-like acts of athletic prowess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.}
The moment I send the message, I want to take it back.
I could unsend it—bless the smartphone overlords for finally giving us that feature—but Alex has already read it.
If I unsend it, it will just make things worse.
So I have to sit with the fact that I just told a man I know to be straight, a man I kissed, a man that, for whatever reason, I can’t keep myself from crushing on that I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him, like I’m some lovestruck cheerleader on the sidelines at the homecoming game.
I scroll back through our messages over the last few days, wincing as my eyes pass over the other, not-so-subtle flirtations I’ve thrown his way since Sunday night.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m a thirty-one year old man.
I do not crush on people like a teenager, and I certainly don’t allow myself to crush on wholly unavailable straight men.
And yet…I’m chatty. I’m watching his games and learning his stats. I’m googling “Alex Holmes girlfriend” and making myself irrationally jealous of every actress and model that he’s had on his arm in the last five years.
So, yeah. I guess I do crush like an idiot teenager.
Maybe I’ll just find myself a nice hole and crawl into it, build a life with the mole people and never come out.
The three dot bubble that tells me Alex is typing appears on the screen, then disappears. I watch it happen two more times, my stomach sinking with each passing second while Alex probably tries to figure out a polite way to tell me to fuck off.
I’m about to start typing again, to apologize for flirting or maybe change the subject entirely and pretend it never happened, when my phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call.
Alex is calling me, and against my better judgement, I really, really want to answer the phone.
I do a quick scan of my surroundings, making sure there’s nothing incriminating in my living room like stray sex toys or wrappers from the Taco Bell I definitely wasn’t supposed to eat for dinner, then swipe to answer.
“You know, they say only psychopaths call people who have texted them,” I say in lieu of a hello, figuring it's best if I go with deflection and some gentle teasing. But when Alex comes into view on the other side of the screen, my mouth goes dry.
He’s shirtless, laying back on a couch with a hand propped up behind his head.
His arm is flexed, and he’s got the cutest little shooting star tattoo on his bicep.
His hair is wet, messy and sticking to his forehead.
His skin is pink, coated in a sheen of dampness so I can only imagine that he just got out of the shower.
His chest…god, his chest. It's sculpted, bulging with muscle, and, like his face, completely hairless. A stray droplet of water slides down his pec to the top of his stomach, carved out by abs and a waist I could easily grab a handful of. I can’t see past his belly button, and that’s probably a good thing because I know whatever he’s got going on below the belt—be it pajamas, a towel, or nothing at all—is sure to make my brain go fuzzy.
“Hey, talking on the phone is a lost art. Don’t you remember when you were a kid and used to sit by the landline in your room and wait for your friends or your crush to call you? I swear I spent hours laying in bed, yapping the night away as a teenager.”
I don’t want to mention that I didn’t have a landline in my bedroom as a kid, or that half the time, Mom could barely afford the phone bill.
It wasn’t until I was old enough to start mowing lawns for cash that I was able to score a prepaid cell phone and a couple hundred minutes a month, and I certainly wasn’t going to waste those talking to kids I saw at school every day.
So I just nod and move right along.
“You played amazing tonight, Alex.”
“I know, right? I mean, I don’t want to toot my own horn or anything, and obviously it's a team effort, but…”
Alex purses his lips and makes the most ridiculous horn sound, sending spittle flying everywhere and turning his cheeks red. I burst out laughing, unable to keep my composure when he’s carrying on like that.
“Did you call me just to brag and practice your trombone impressions?” I manage to ask between chuckles. Alex is laughing too, the smile on his face so wide it looks like it might split in two.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone who so effortlessly radiates joy like he does.
“Nah, I just want to see your face while we chat. Is that okay?”
Ah, hell. There goes my heart, skipping away, tossing flower petals and mooning.
Why? Why does this man have to be so fucking cute?
“Yeah, that’s okay, Alex.” I say, even as my tongue feels like it's sticking to the roof of my mouth.
Being his friend might turn out to be the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time.
But as I watch Alex move around, propping his phone against something and tucking his hands under his chin, I find myself memorizing every inch of him like this.
The way he curls in on himself, the way his abs ripple with each inhale of breath, and that smile.
The one that seems to take over his whole face, tugging at the corners of his lips and shining through his sparkling brown eyes.
Fuck it. I don’t care how hard being just friends with Alex will be for me. I’ve never seen a smile so captivatingly beautiful in my life, and I’m claiming it all for myself.