5. Gabe
5 /
gabe
Holky, Harpy, Logan, Paquette, and I sat around a corner table at Revolution Hops, one of Buffalo’s most popular microbreweries. The Hops was a fixture on West Chippewa, surrounded by other clubs and bars that kept the area buzzing. Thursdays were usually lively with college kids kicking off their weekends early. Surprisingly, the crowd was sparse tonight, even with a live band cranking out tunes that reminded me of the Arctic Monkeys.
We liked the thinner crowd because with fewer people around, we didn’t need to shout to be heard. Instead, we told stories and laughed our asses off. Packy started things off by telling us how he split his pants at the grocery store when he bent over to take something from the bottom shelf, and the stories got funnier from there.
Everyone had loosened up by the time we were on our second round, and Holky told us about a woman he’d dated for a few months. He took her to dinner at a nice restaurant, where she teased him about not wearing any underwear, dropping hints and flirting throughout the meal. When they got back to her apartment, Nate was ready to roll, but she wouldn’t even kiss him. Instead, she made him watch a movie—and then wait while she loaded the dishwasher—before they went to bed. We were in stitches, the absurdity of the situation sinking in more with each sip of beer. “I didn’t last a minute,” he said, making us laugh harder. “Talk about a two-pump chump.”
“That’s about how long I’d expect you to last on a good night,” Logan said.
“In your fucking dreams,” Holky shot back. “You wish you had someone with my stamina. Besides, after the first explosion, she said the fun was just beginning. We were up all night.”
“Sounds like she was good at keeping you up , all right,” I teased.
“Luca did something like that once,” Harpy said. “We went to Shakespeare in Delaware Park, and since it was a hot night, we wore shorts. After we laid back on our blanket and it was getting dark, he kept pulling… things… out so I could get a good look.”
“Oh man,” I said, “that’s brutal.”
“He was good at keeping you up too,” Holky added, snickering.
“And himself.” Harpy chuckled. “Seeing that was part of what kept me up.”
“Did you spank him when you got home?” Packy asked.
After turning bright red, Harpy laughed again. “No, but when we got there, the bastard made me play Elden Ring forever before anything happened.”
“Why didn’t you just fucking lose?” Logan asked.
“You think I didn’t try? He kept restarting the game.”
After we laughed ourselves hoarse, Harpy blushed again. “But when we finally went upstairs, he had something special waiting. We had a lot of fun that night.”
Packy gave a wistful smile. “Aw, he made you work for it, then made it worth your while. That’s how you know they love you.”
We all groaned, and Logan shot a look my way. “What’s up with your love life, Gabe? Tell us about the twink-of-the-week.”
Thankfully, the waiter appeared, asking if we wanted another round. After he took our orders and left, I hoped the conversation would move on to something else, but no such luck.
“Tell us, Chief,” Holky said. “Who’s the lucky guy right now? What kind of videos does he make?”
They’d never let up, especially since I’d almost always had a good-looking man in tow. Now that I was taking a break, I didn’t know what to say. It was tempting to make someone up and tell them about a guy who didn’t exist, but then they’d hound me for details. What was the point, anyway? There was no shame in being single, so I swallowed the last of my beer and said, “There is no twink-of-the-week.”
They laughed like I’d told another joke.
“Come on, for real,” Packy said. “My wife’s in Saint-Rémi until her sister has her baby. If I’m not getting any, I want to hear about people who are.”
“I’m serious, guys. I’m taking a break from dating. There’s nobody right now, and I don’t know when there will be.”
Holky raised an eyebrow, and I braced myself, worried he’d bring up Brody. Instead, he smiled. “So, you’re sitting home alone?”
“No, you dumb fuck,” I shot back. “I’m sitting here with you.”
Logan leaned across the table. “One question. Why?”
All eyes turned toward me, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Not usually one to get tongue-tied, I muttered a few words, but they came out a jumbled mess.
Harpy came to my rescue. “It’s good to change it up sometimes. Doing things differently can help us see things in a new way.”
Holky smirked. “Well, if you’re open to giving women a go, I could introduce you to quite a few.”
I barked out a laugh. “Thanks, but I’m not available for that team. Got drafted by the other one around the day I was born.”
Fortunately, they let it drop. We returned to drinking and telling funny stories, and Holcomb eventually left with a woman who came over to say hi. Somewhere between sober and drunk, I got into a Lyft with Logan, who also lived in Williamsville. A little while later, I stumbled into my house and barely managed to brush my teeth and undress before collapsing into bed.
While I waited to drift off, I wondered what it would be like to date someone who was truly interested in me. Somebody I could miss if they had to go take care of a relative, like Packy’s wife. Or a man who cared enough to tease me while we were on a date so he could make it a night to remember. I’d never had that. For me, it had always been temporary companions to stave off loneliness until they got what they wanted from me. Wash, rinse, and repeat.
My thoughts inevitably drifted to Brody. We’d barely had a conversation, but deep inside I thought there could be a real connection between us. After years of quick, shallow encounters, it may have been reckless to hope for something different. Was I so desperate for change that I was imagining a spark with him?
Twelve years in the NHL had opened beds all over the world. At first, it was guys thrilled to say they’d been fucked by a young hockey player, but as I grew into one of the league’s veterans, my dating options shifted. Now, it wasn’t only about being an athlete; it was about status. People wanted to be seen with me, not necessarily to be with me. That’s why I craved a genuine relationship like a drug I was addicted to but couldn’t have. Could dating Brody lead to something real?
Something real? I groaned and turned over. Before I got carried away thinking about having anything with Brody, I needed to find out if he was really interested. We’d flirted at lunch, but that was no guarantee he was serious. If I ever got to learn if his lips were as sweet as they looked, I’d be allowed to think about possibilities. Until then, I needed to keep my thoughts under control.
My head was pounding the next morning, and the thought of a full day at the arena had me muttering curses all the way there. A greasy plate of bacon and eggs took the edge off, but when we hit the ice, I still felt like I’d been steamrolled. The endless plyometric and movement drills were pure torture, each round making my head throb more. I pitied the forwards and D-men because they had it even worse than the goalies; Criswell had them doing sadistic skating drills that looked even more brutal than what we were stuck with.
After a short break, we scrimmaged, and I had to work harder than usual just to avoid embarrassing myself. Dodging any humiliating mistakes was a small victory, but it did little to quiet the constant stream of thoughts about Brody. This morning, he’d already been eating breakfast when I arrived, sitting with a group. There had been no room for me to join them, and he was gone by the time I finished my food. I didn’t see him again until we hit the ice. The grueling drills hadn’t left me much time to look for him, but whenever I managed to steal a glance, he was back to his favorite game: checking me out, then pretending he wasn’t.
A Warrior tradition was to end Fridays early during training camp, so Criswell mercifully called it a day. That was a blessing since we had a preseason game tomorrow. Between the lingering traces of my hangover and Brody throwing my focus into a blender all morning, I could use an afternoon off. I looked around the locker room, wanting to say hi, but Brody was once again nowhere to be found. After lunch yesterday and that incredible moment in the hallway in the afternoon, I didn’t understand why he was avoiding me again. Though it was frustrating, it pulled me in even deeper. Was he playing a game or confused about his feelings?
I knew I should be careful. There were risks in dating a teammate, and things could spiral badly if it didn’t work out, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to spend time with Brody. Like his on-again, off-again attitude, it made him even more fascinating. What harm could there be in hanging out, anyway? And if things went further, so what? We were both adults, seasoned enough to know that a good fuck didn’t mean forever. Hell, he was a young man who was new in town. Why wasn’t he jumping at the chance to spend time with someone who was interested in him?
After a quick shower, I went to the players’ lounge to get a Gatorade for the road. Logan was there, relaxing on one of the leather couches while he scrolled through his phone.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “We have the afternoon off.”
He glanced over and flashed a lazy grin. “I’ve got an interview in an hour, so I’m stuck waiting around.”
“Ouch.” Logan had been in Buffalo almost as long as I had, and we’d been close friends for years. Needing some advice, I dropped into a chair catty-corner to him. “Got a few minutes?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
Logan knew a lot about my history with men, so I didn’t waste time bullshitting. I told him why I’d decided to stop dating influencer types, and then explained the situation with Brody, how I felt a connection but was afraid I’d spooked him somehow.
“What’d you do to scare him?”
“Nothing.” I threw up a hand. “Do you think I chased him through the woods with a stick?” Logan gave me a deadpan look, so I pressed on. “You know me. I was friendly, polite. I offered to give him my number and show him around since he’s new in town. He seemed skittish, but he took my info. If he’d really been afraid, wouldn’t he have run instead of standing there with his phone in his hand? Besides, he’s bigger than I am. If he wanted to, he could probably beat the shit out of me.”
“Well, what do you think?—”
“We had a nice lunch together yesterday. I felt like he was starting to open up until Anderson came along and ruined it. Later, when Holky and I were leaving, we ran into Brody and Sid Jarvis. Brody and I shook hands—held hands, really—and there was about as much magic in that moment as you can imagine.”
Logan shifted, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “I don’t get it. You’re hot, and guys are usually all over you. Do you…” He paused and scratched his head. “Wait a fucking minute. Do you even know for sure that Brody’s into men? He was a sensation during his rookie year, and I remember seeing a lot of pics of him with sexy women.”
“The way he looks at me, I’m pretty damn sure he likes men. What about all the rumors flying around last spring?”
“Could’ve been idle gossip. Did you hear something from anyone you trust?”
I paused, trying to remember. “Not really, but the way the trade happened was crazy. I remember him being on the injured reserve for a while, and then he was a healthy scratch. What were the Beanies doing?” I shrugged. “A few years ago, he went number three overall in the draft, so why would they offload a player of his caliber? Even if he asked for the trade, they didn’t have to agree. But … if he was involved with someone on the team and the rest of the guys turned on him, it would have made anyone want to leave.”
Logan tapped his chin. “And it would’ve been enough for the Beanies to want him out of there as quickly as possible. You could be right, but I still don’t put much stock in gossip.” His gaze sharpened. “For the sake of argument, let’s say Tanner’s bi or whatever. Are you sure he’s interested in you ?”
“He hasn’t begged to sit on my dick yet, but there’s something there.”
We both laughed while I opened my Gatorade and drank.
“You’d been running when you saw him on the trail?”
“Yes.”
“What were you wearing?” He put on a teasing grin. “I’ve told you before, light colors bring out your eyes.”
I thought back to that sweaty mess of a day. “It was awfully hot, and I’d stopped because I was worn out. My shirt was soaked, so I took it off.”
“Maybe seeing you bare-chested threw him.”
“Come on. The guy’s been around locker rooms all his life. And besides, most…”
“Most what?” Logan’s grin grew wicked. “Go ahead and say it. Most people would’ve loved a look at Gabe Donovan’s legendary pecs.”
Logan and I were pros at calling each other on our bullshit, and he’d gotten one past my blocker. “Fine, you could be onto something. Maybe he’s not into guys.”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Full disclosure—Packy and I talked to Tanner the other day when we were all in the gym, and he definitely set off my gaydar. Don’t worry, though, because he doesn’t have eyes for me.”
I felt a glimmer of hope. “It’s not just me, then. Surely both of us can’t be wrong.”
Logan held up a finger. “ Plus , I happen to have noticed the way he looks at you all the time. I can’t even remember the last time someone eyed me like that.”
“Then why the mixed signals? If he isn’t interested, why not say so? He’s a grown man, for God’s sake.”
Logan took a sip of water. “If that shit in Boston really went down like we heard, maybe he’s spooked. He’s new here, and I’m sure he doesn’t want another team turning on him.”
“Like the Warriors would do that? We have three openly gay guys on the team, and if anyone had an issue, Packy and Holky would shut it down fast.”
“True, but Tanner hasn’t been here long enough to know that. If he got burned once, he’s probably playing it safe.”
The conversation was getting heavy, so I threw in a zinger. “Are you saying I scared him off because I’m too good-looking?”
Logan snorted, nearly choking on another sip of water. “Full of yourself much? You think you’re too handsome? Brody’s a goddamn looker, Gabe. You’d be lucky to get him.”
“I know .” I chuckled. “I’m lost here. Since we all have the new team directory now, should I call and ask him out?”
Logan showed me a real smile, sensitive instead of the bust-your-balls version. “You’ve got it that bad, huh? Who knows why he’s acting weird, but if he’s nervous, you don’t want to make it worse. What if you tried something less intense than a date? Make him feel comfortable around you.”
“Like what?”
“Not sure. Let’s think about it.” ESPN was muted on one of the TVs, and we watched highlights until Logan snapped his fingers. “What about the cookout you’re having on Sunday? Invite him.”
I mulled it over. “You know, that could work. Think he’d show?”
“Maybe. It’s low-pressure, and he’d be around everyone. Way less intimidating than being with you one-on-one.”
“Hm. Sometimes you’re pretty smart. This is a great idea.”
“Oh yeah? Why are you sitting here, then? Get your lazy ass on the phone and ask him.”
I stood and held out my fist for a bump. “Thanks, man. I owe you a beer.”
After taking a swig of Gatorade for courage, I tossed the bottle into the trash and headed to the locker room for my jacket. I’d give Brody time to get home before I got in touch.