11. Gabe
11 /
gabe
I pulled on a blue shirt, but the moment I started buttoning it, I froze. Was that a wrinkle? Right across the front? It wasn’t huge, but still—what if Brody thought I didn’t care what I looked like for him? Fuck! I yanked the shirt off, tossed it into the laundry basket, and was halfway to the closet before I remembered I’d planned to wear a sweater over it. Damn!
As I froze again, my eyes darted between the basket and the closet. I had more shirts than I knew what to do with, but should I get another one when the first one would have been fine? For a ridiculous amount of time, I stood there like a bobblehead, looking back and forth. Then I started grunting. My brain was stuck in an endless loop of indecision, and the harder I tried to break free, the more paralyzed I became. Finally, I shook myself out of it, marched to the closet, and grabbed another shirt.
By then, I’d broken out in a sweat, so I stripped off my undershirt, toweled myself dry, applied more deodorant, and put on a clean undershirt. Now, where did I put the shirt I’d decided to wear?
The insanity of the moment hit me, and I laughed my ass off. I hadn’t been this nervous to go on a date in… forever. Brody had been in my head all day. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and during the scrimmage, I let him skate right up to the goal and bury one in the net. Just like that, like he owned the place.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Every time I’d caught him looking at me, he flashed a nervous grin and pretended to be interested in something that mattered—the ice, for example, or his stick and gloves. Then he’d look my way again, grin, and do something goofy. Once, he skated right into the boards like he had no idea they were there.
We couldn’t eat lunch together because Bjork—our backup goalie—and I had a working lunch scheduled with the press. Later, during a quick water break, I found Brody and confirmed we were still on for tonight, and the way his face lit up made me grin like an idiot. But there’d also been a little tremor in his hand, making me think he was as wound up about it as I was.
I liked Brody, and I hoped we could date for a while. Sometimes, things don’t work out even though both people try, and if that happened, so be it. But if I did something stupid and messed this up before it even got started, I’d kick myself in the ass.
God damn .
Realizing I’d been holding my breath, I forced myself to exhale and shook out my arms. After one last look in the mirror, I ran to my car and drove the ridiculously short distance to his house.
Brody opened the door before I rang the bell, wide-eyed and staring at me like a deer caught in headlights. “Sorry. I… saw you coming?” He grimaced and added, “That’s not actually a question. I saw you coming.”
Otto was barking at my feet, and as soon as I leaned over to pet him, Brody started talking. I straightened back up and listened to him chatter, noting the beads of sweat dotting his forehead.
“I’ve been so excited about tonight,” he said. “I really couldn’t sleep when I got home, but I rested. At least, I tried to.”
The sudden silence was jarring, and then I noticed him looking me over. He grinned when he met my eyes. “I’m so glad to see you. You look amazing in that sweater. Did you know it’s the same blue as your eyes?”
“It’s great to see you too. And damn, do you look handsome.”
I nearly added that he could have been on the cover of a fashion magazine in his neatly pressed chinos and white shirt, but I thankfully caught myself. He was wearing a blue sweater, too, and I couldn’t take my eyes off how it brought out the golden cast in his locks.
Locks? “Goldilocks.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“What?” I answered.
“You said, ‘Goldilocks.’”
“I did? I…” I tried to wave it off but almost hit him in the chest. “You look incredible, and I was thinking how that blue sweater makes your hair shine. You look like Goldilocks.”
He pressed his lips together, but I couldn’t miss the amusement in his eyes. “Okay, thank you. We like each other’s sweaters.”
The beats ticked by, one… two… three. Suddenly, we were laughing like maniacs, and when we finally got it together, he put a hand on my arm. “We’re both a little nervous. That’s normal, right?”
“I guess. You’re so hot I can’t think.”
His cheeks turned pink, and he ran a finger under his collar. “Thanks, but let’s be honest. You’re the looker here.”
“Glad you think so, but we might have to agree to disagree.”
“You want to come in, or should we get going?” He caught his lower lip between his teeth, and the look in his eyes made my breath catch. If we went inside, we’d spend our date in Brody’s bed.
Would that be so bad?
Yes, because tonight is supposed to be about getting to know each other.
He licked his lips, and I leaned in and kissed him, a quick peck that left us both smiling.
“Maybe we should head out,” I said. “I might take you up on the invitation to come in when we get back, if it still stands.”
He snickered, rolling his eyes. “Guess we’ll have to see.”
We told Otto goodbye, and Brody slid his hand into mine as we walked to the car.
“You like diner food?” I asked once we were on our way.
“Sure,” he said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You’re not into fancy dates, or do you think I wouldn’t know which fork to use?”
Instantly flustered, I glanced between him and the road. “I… Well, neither. I thought…” Trying desperately not to groan, I sighed instead. “I wanted someplace low-key where we could kick back and talk. I figured?—”
His laughter filled the car. I glanced over again, and he’d tipped his head back, cackling so hard his shoulders shook.
“Gotcha!” He lowered his gaze and pointed at me, wearing a triumphant grin. “Are you always so easy?”
I snorted. “Fuck off, Goldilocks. You’re a menace.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why not? You’ve got golden locks.”
“It sounds… I don’t know.”
“What if I only call you Goldilocks in private?”
Narrowing his gaze, he gave me the stink-eye. “And very rarely.”
“Deal, Goldilocks.”
He gave the loudest scoff I’d ever heard. “The fuck?”
“Just practicing.” I nearly strangled on the laugh I was stifling.
After giving me a long, cool look, he smiled. “You’d better watch yourself.”
“Anything you say. Goldi?—”
He cut me off with a loud grunt, pointed at me, and shook his head. Before I could say anything, he asked, “Did you hear what Criswell said today at practice?”
“When?”
“We were doing drills, and he was talking to the forwards. I was only half listening, but I tuned in when I heard him say, ‘Short and hard, boys.’”
“What the hell?” I asked.
“Everybody was looking around, trying not to laugh. Holky put on a big grin and asked, ‘What was that, Coach? Didn’t hear you.’”
“Oh God, do I want to hear this?”
“Criswell raised his voice and yelled, ‘I said we want fresh bodies all the time. When it’s your turn, go as hard as you can for thirty seconds and then get off. Short and hard.’”
We laughed ourselves hoarse. As soon as we calmed down, I had to outdo him, so I told another funny one. We couldn’t shut up, and by the time we reached the diner, our nerves were in the past. I wasn’t sure what had happened to bring Brody out of his shell, but I hoped it would stick.
The Food and Board is a cozy spot in a quiet part of downtown. Known for its relaxed vibe, craft beers, and delicious food, it was the perfect place for an informal first date. There wasn’t much of a crowd since it was Monday night, and the glow from vintage Edison bulbs added to the laid-back atmosphere. Booths with red seats lined the walls, and we claimed one near a shelf filled with board games. The hum of voices and occasional clink of glasses created the ideal background for casual conversation.
“This place okay?” I asked, pushing a menu across the table.
He flashed a happy smile. “Perfect.”
After the waitress brought water, Brody’s eyes flicked toward the board games, and then at me.
“You ever play any of those?” I asked. “We could keep it simple with checkers, or…” I inserted a playful edge into my voice. “If you’re feeling competitive, we could go with Scrabble. See who’s quicker on the draw with words.”
“You’re on with Scrabble.” The competitive gleam in his eyes was impossible to miss. “But I’m starved, so let’s eat first.”
After we ordered—chicken fried steak for me and meatloaf for Brody—we eased into a solid conversation. He told me about growing up in Vermont, loving the outdoors, and how hockey had always been his outlet. He pulled me in, not so much with his story, but because of how animated he was. Brody Tanner may have been mild-mannered, but he was funny as hell. Add to that a warm personality and keen mind, and I was smitten.
When the food came, I watched him take a bite of his meatloaf. “Man, that’s good. My grandma used to make it like this.” He put on a crooked grin when I cut into my steak, then said, “Don’t think I’ll go easy on you in Scrabble just because you brought me here.”
I nearly choked. After washing the food down with a sip of water, I raised an eyebrow and asked, “You think I’ll be the one struggling? You have no idea what kind of word arsenal I’m about to throw at you.”
“Big talk, Gabe. Let’s see you back it up. And it won’t help you to try to distract me with your good looks. I’ll deal with those later.”
His grin unleashed a wave of excitement. Was it because of the Scrabble challenge, or the promise of what we might get up to back home? We were athletes, so there was always a game in everything, but what was this one? I took a chance. “I won’t give you a break, either.” Looking into his eyes, I smiled. “Notwithstanding those deep blue eyes, shiny blond hair, and amazing muscles I want to lick every inch of.”
He tilted his head. “Bottomless eyes, a breathtaking face, and a body straight out of a fitness magazine have been known to distract me.”
My heart kicked into overdrive, and I wondered if I was dreaming. Was this the same Brody I’d spent weeks trying to get ten words out of? He picked up his water glass and took a sip, signaling it was my move, so I tried to quiet my racing heart. “I get excited when I catch you looking at me during practice.”
Setting the water glass back on the table, he licked his lips. “Me too. It’s hard not to when all I can think about is… well, getting hard with you. When all I want to do is race across the ice and kiss you.”
Holy fuck! He’d stolen the breath right out of my chest. Did his meatloaf contain truth serum or a madness-inducing drug? If so, I hoped it never wore off. “I might’ve…” My voice was rough, so I cleared my throat and tried again. “I think about the same things. Or even more.”
“More than last night?” He swallowed hard and licked his lips. “Because I might have thought about that too.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen. How’s the food?”
We assured the waitress everything was fine and resumed eating. I couldn’t stop watching him. The glimmer in his eyes was hypnotic, and his soft moans of pleasure when he took a bite of meatloaf sent my imagination racing. I leaned across the table and whispered, “I’ve got some meat you can enjoy, D-man.”
He looked at me, his eyes fiery. “Got some for you, too, Tendy.”
It’s a wonder I could think since my dick was doing its best to touch the bottom of the table, but if we were making an appointment for later, I wanted it solidified. “Think it’ll be good and juicy?”
Our eyes were still locked, and he didn’t flinch. “Lots of juice. Yours?”
“Mm. All the juice you can handle.”
Every part of me tingled, and my dick was throbbing so hard I felt sure I was about to come in my pants. I’d have wondered if he knew what he was doing to me, but he looked to be in the same shape.
We cooled the sexy talk and finished our meals. After the waitress cleared the table, we ordered beers, and I took the Scrabble box from its shelf. Brody scrutinized every move as I turned all the tiles face down, and I waited until I finished to look at him. “Ever play Scrabble before?”
He leaned back and shook his head. “Fuck off. Mom taught me how to play Scrabble when I was barely able to read.”
“That’s cool.” I pushed a rack across the table. “Did your dad play?”
“Nah, he was gone by then.”
“Gone as in…?”
“As in gone ,” he said. “He left one day when I was at kindergarten, and we never saw him again.”
Me and my big mouth. Had I ruined the evening when I didn’t know what I was saying? “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
He took a long sip of beer before answering. “Harder for Mom, but she made it. Her parents lived close by, and we all made a great family. We had each other’s backs and still do.”
“Where does she live now?” I held out a hand, telling him to select his tiles.
“Still in Burlington during the summer, and I bought her a condo in St. Pete for the winter.” He chose his letters slowly, like he was using telepathy to figure out what they were. “I see her whenever I can, and sometimes she’ll come to visit for a week or two.” He chuckled and grabbed his last two tiles quickly. “When she’s at a game, you’ll know it. You can hear her cheering over the rest of the fans put together.”
“Sounds like my mom.” I picked seven letters and then glanced up. “She lives in Arizona but usually comes here a time or two during the season. You’ll hear her giving the other goalie hell.”
“Nothing like moms.”
I held up my beer. “To moms.”
After we clinked and enjoyed another sip, I nodded at a timer on the shelf and grinned. “You ever play speed Scrabble? Each turn, you get thirty seconds to make a word. Keeps it interesting.”
“Is that what you want to do?” He raised an eyebrow. “Sure your brain can work that fast?”
I grabbed the timer and placed it beside the Scrabble board. “You’re about to see how fast my mind works.”
“Oh, you’re on.” Cocking his head, he asked, “Are you also fast in other ways?”
I lowered my voice almost to a growl. “I’m fast in many ways, but there’s one thing I always take my time with.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Promise or bullshit?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out.”
“I’ll see you and raise you.”
We both chuckled. “Ready to play?” I asked, hoping he might suggest ditching Scrabble for a different game. “You go first.”
The mood lightened when Brody opened with the word quaffed . When I snorted, he fixed me with a look that dared me to say anything. I considered my options and finally said, “Great word.”
He nodded. “You bet it is.”
The game quickly devolved into a verbal sparring match, my strategy leaning heavily on distraction because Brody was incredibly good. His vocabulary was lethal, but when he played dhyana , I shot him a dubious look. “That is not a word.”
He shrugged, barely suppressing a grin. “It absolutely is. State of higher focus.”
“Bullshit.”
“Oh? Are you challenging me?” His dastardly smile begged me to try.
Although I knew I was about to lose my turn, I couldn’t back down. “Damn right I am. Take that made-up word off the board.”
He reached for the dictionary and slowly flipped through the pages. When he finally turned it toward me, he tapped an entry with a flourish. “Tough luck, Donovan. I’ll take my points and another turn, thank you very much.”
“Fucker.” We laughed as I begrudgingly wrote down the score and watched him draw more tiles from the box.
I got my revenge a few turns later when I played syzygy .
“What the actual fuck is that?” He glared at me like I’d insulted his ancestors. “Do you think I was born yesterday?”
“Please. Syzygy is a common word.” I didn’t even try to contain my smugness.
“Uh-huh, and I’m a goddamn lexicographer.” He folded his arms. “Go on. Enlighten me.”
I sighed as dramatically as possible. “It’s when three celestial bodies align. Obviously. ”
He stared at me, his lips twitching like he was debating whether to laugh or flip the table. “You’re full of shit.”
“Look it up, Tanner.”
His hesitation told me he knew I wasn’t bluffing, but he flipped through the dictionary anyway, squinting at a page before groaning. “Fine, but if you use another word like that, I’m out.”
“Quitter,” I teased.
When all the tiles had been played, Brody eked out a win by a handful of points. He folded his arms again and plastered a victorious grin across his face. “Guess you need to work on your word arsenal, Donovan.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Next time, no mercy.”
We laughed, and when the noise faded, we were left with a warm silence stretching between us.
“This was fun,” he eventually said, his voice soft. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“Anytime.” I tapped his foot with mine. “Tonight’s been amazing.”
His gaze was soft with a vulnerability that made me want to know what had hurt him so much. Though I was tempted to ask, it wasn’t the time or place.
“It’s been perfect,” he said. “Exactly what I needed.”
“Hey, I’m good for anything you need.”
“Thank you.” He curved his lips into a wicked smile. “But promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Next time we play, don’t even think about pulling out syzygy . Meanwhile, I’ll start memorizing every obscure word in the dictionary so I can keep winning.”
I chuckled. “Bring it on. I like a challenge.”
“Oh, confident, are we?” He lowered his eyes and inspected the tabletop for a long time before looking at me again. “I like a guy who’s good at things that take skill.”
My breath caught in my throat, but I kept my cool. “And I like a guy who knows how to keep up. Not that I’m worried about you.”
His eyes flashed with mischief. “You’re right, but I’m usually not the type to give away all my secrets on the first date.”
I finished the warm dregs of my beer, letting his words simmer between us. “Usually? Does that mean sometimes you do—like last night?”
“Last night wasn’t a date.”
“Didn’t stop us.”
A moment passed before he said, “I’m all for having fun, but I like you. If we’re going to consider the possibility of more, I want to be sure we do this right. I had a terrible time last year, and I don’t want any repeats.”
“Do you mean no more sex?”
“God, no. When I said fun, I was certainly including that. But can we keep dating, getting to know each other in other ways too?”
“Hell yes.” I glanced around and reached for his hand. “I like you, too. I’d love to have something that isn’t superficial, and I know it takes work. If you’d like to find out about us, I’m all for it.”
The diner faded into the background, and it seemed like the entire world became us, in that booth, ready to see what might be ahead.
“To the future, then?” He reached for his beer, but it was empty. His water glass was too, so he took a Scrabble tile off the board and held it up for a toast.
“To the future,” I said, clicking his tile with one of my own.