Chapter Twelve
Ilya Rozanov was wearing a Santa hat and a snowman sweater, and was holding a puppy. Harris loved his job.
“Stand closer to the tree,” Gen instructed.
Ilya took a step toward the giant, illuminated Christmas tree in the corner of the meeting room.
He was unfairly handsome for someone dressed so ridiculously.
Chiron had a festive bandanna tied around his neck and looked adorable as he nuzzled Ilya’s face.
Harris hadn’t needed to twist Ilya’s arm at all to agree to this photo shoot.
“Ah!” Ilya yelped. “He’s got my pom-pom!”
Chiron had indeed chomped down on the big, fluffy pom-pom on the end of Ilya’s hat and was tugging aggressively at it while Ilya laughed. Harris, thank god, was capturing the whole thing on video with his phone while Gen took rapid photos.
The fans were going to love this.
“Maybe some where you’re kneeling or sitting, Ilya?” Gen suggested. “In front of the presents under the tree.”
Ilya lowered himself until he was sitting cross-legged, which was super cute, and Chiron stood on the floor beside him with his little paws on Ilya’s thigh.
“Ugh, that’s adorable,” Gen said, snapping pictures. “Stay like that.”
“Whoa. What’s this?”
Harris didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Troy who was asking, but he still turned so quickly he nearly gave himself whiplash. Troy was standing in the doorway wearing workout clothes and an honest-to-god smile.
“Hi,” Harris said. He hadn’t seen Troy since their drive together before the road trip, and, damn. He was still very hot. “We’re, um, doing a little holiday photo shoot. It’s like a virtual Christmas card that we’ll post to our accounts.”
“Ah. Looking good, Ilya.”
“I know.”
Troy glanced uneasily between Harris, Gen, and Ilya, then said, “I, uh, brought you an eggnog latte, Harris. But I can just leave it.”
“No!” Harris said, too quickly. “You can stay. And thanks. For the latte.” He took it from him, the warmth of the paper cup seeping into his fingers as warmth from something else glowed inside his chest.
Gen let out a huff of laughter that Harris knew meant you are into this guy and being very obvious about it. To Harris’s alarm, Ilya made an almost identical sound.
He tried to ignore both of them. “We’re almost done, if you want to sit, or...”
“There are other sweaters,” Ilya said, then nodded at the table loaded with Christmas costume pieces. “You should get in here.”
“Oh. No. I was going to do a workout and, um.” Troy gestured to his gym shorts.
“Sweater, hat, shoot from the waist up. Come on, Barrett.”
Harris loved this idea, but only if Troy was into it. “It would be awesome to have two of you in the photo.”
“The fans will like you more,” Ilya said bluntly. “You, me, puppy, Christmas shit. No one can resist that.”
Troy glanced at the table, then at Harris, then back to the table. “Okay. Sure.”
“Harris, help him pick a sweater,” Ilya said, because he was apparently in charge of this photo shoot now. “No! Chiron! Come back.”
Chiron had lost interest in Ilya and was bounding over to Troy.
“Hey, buddy,” Troy said, crouching and scratching Chiron’s ears. “I missed you.”
Troy glanced up and locked eyes with Harris. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but then he looked back down at the puppy.
Harris went to the table and selected a blue sweater with a Christmas lights design knit into it. “Try this one,” he said. He did not say that it would make Troy’s eyes look amazing. Not that his eyes needed the help.
Troy gave the sweater a rueful look, but accepted it and put it on over his performance T-shirt.
“Is there an elf hat?” Ilya asked.
“No,” Troy said flatly.
“I think you mean yes,” Harris said, holding up a felt elf hat with bells dangling off it. He placed it carefully on Troy’s head then, boldly, he tucked an unruly tuft of black hair behind his ear. Troy’s eyes blazed into him for a moment, brighter than any holiday lights.
“How do I look?” he asked quietly.
Harris didn’t see anything but those eyes. And those lips. “Perfect.”
He swore Troy had started blushing before he’d quickly turned toward Ilya. Chiron trotted after him, tail wagging.
“I hate you for this,” Troy grumbled to Ilya.
“I don’t think you do. Now look cute for Gen and Harris.”
Jesus, Troy was blushing. And smiling. And elbowing Ilya playfully. Who was this guy?
They took a bunch of photos of the two men standing together, holding the puppy between them.
They looked like an absurdly attractive couple, but Harris kept that to himself.
Troy smiled for the camera, and even laughed a few times, thanks to Ilya.
It was nice to see the two of them getting along.
They must have bonded on their recent road trip.
Ilya handed Chiron to Troy and said, “Take some photos with just Troy, yes?”
Harris wasn’t sure they needed those, but Ilya was already pulling off his Santa hat and sweater, and Troy did look irresistibly silly.
Ilya squeezed Troy’s shoulder before he walked away, which made Troy blush again for some reason. Then Ilya tossed his hat and sweater on the table and left quickly. It was kind of strange, the sudden departure, but Ilya was generally strange.
Without Ilya there to tease him, Troy’s face fell into its usual blank stare, which looked hilarious set against an elf hat, a loud sweater, and a puppy. Harris couldn’t wait to see the photos later.
“Okay,” Gen said. “I think we’re good.”
Troy carefully set Chiron on the floor, then removed his costume pieces. “Those were probably terrible photos. Sorry.”
“They’re great,” Gen said as she scrolled back through the images she’d captured on her camera. Harris could tell she was barely suppressing a giggle. “Very festive.”
Harris took Troy’s sweater and hat from him. “Thanks for helping out.”
“No problem. Um. Does Chiron need a walk?”
Chiron let out a happy bark at the word walk. Harris laughed. “Sounds like it. You want to take him?”
“Sure. Can you come too? Or if you’re busy I could—”
“I’m not busy. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I can clean up here,” Gen said. “You boys go on your walk.”
It was a blatant attempt to get Harris and Troy alone together, and Harris tried to shoot daggers at her but probably failed because he’d never shot daggers at anyone in his life. “You sure?”
“Oh, I’m definitely sure.” Gen seemed to be under the ridiculous assumption that Harris’s weird friendship with Troy was going to blossom into something more. As if Harris could turn the head of an NHL player.
“I’ll get my jacket,” Troy said. “And, uh, my pants.”
“Probably a good idea,” Gen said. “It’s December.”
Troy walked quickly out of the room, and Harris rounded on Gen. “What the hell, dude?”
“What?”
“Why not just wear a T-shirt that says Harris is into you?”
“Oh, come on. He’s a hockey player. He doesn’t pick up on stuff like that.”
“He’s smart!”
She made a face that said is he, though?
“You’re mean.”
She laughed. “Seriously, I like him. And he’s sweet to you, which I also like. So even if he just wants to walk dogs with you and bring you coffee, I support it.”
Harris relaxed. “Thanks.” He grabbed his latte off the table and went to the door. “See you in a bit.”
“I’ll send you the best Troy photos.”
“Yeah. Because it’s your job.”
“And your job is to walk a puppy with Troy Barrett. Go.”
Harris was going to argue that this wasn’t his job at all, but that would waste valuable walking-a-puppy-with-Troy time, so he left.
“So is it acceptably eggnog season now?” Harris asked. They were halfway down the first length of the arena parking lot, Troy holding Chiron’s leash. Harris was holding the latte, trying not to drink it too quickly.
“Yeah. It’s Christmas next week.”
“Eggnog has a one-week window?”
“It has a zero-week window for me.”
“There must be a Christmas treat you like, though.”
Troy shrugged. “Turkey?”
Hoo boy. Harris decided to change the subject. “The Toronto game seemed intense.”
“It was pretty rough.”
“I couldn’t believe it when Ilya punched Kent.”
Troy’s lips curved up. “That was awesome.”
“What did Kent say to him to make him lose it like that?”
Troy’s jaw worked for a moment, then he said, “Nothing really. Just typical bullshit.”
Harris wasn’t sure he believed that, but he let it go. “Was it awful, being back in Toronto?”
“It was weird. And pretty terrible. I thought I was going to be sick before the game. Ilya talked me down, actually.”
“He’s good at that.”
“Mm.”
They finished a lap of the massive parking lot, and Harris was about to start a second one after tossing his empty cup into a garbage can, but Troy stopped walking.
“Um,” Troy said.
Harris waited. Troy handed him the leash, then reached into his own jacket pocket.
“I got you something.” He said it like one word, then thrust a small, shiny object at Harris.
“You did?”
Harris took the object and saw that it was an enamel pin in the shape of an apple. With a little rainbow heart in the middle.
His own little rainbow heart fluttered in his chest. He beamed at Troy. “Where did you find this?”
“New York. It’s, y’know. The Big Apple. And that pin was from Pride, I guess. So. Yeah.”
“Big Gay Apple.”
Troy huffed. “I thought you’d like it.”
“I love it!” Harris pinned it on to his jacket immediately, then smiled at it. Troy had been thinking of him on his trip.
“Ilya took me to that bar Scott Hunter and Eric Bennett own. That’s where I saw the pin. And the bartender gave one to me when I asked about it.”
Harris’s mouth dropped open. “You went to the Kingfisher? Shit, I’m so jealous. I love that there’s a gay bar in New York that’s owned by two NHL players. Who would have ever thought, huh?”
“I know, it’s kinda unbelievable. But it’s a nice bar. And the bartender who gave me the pin is, uh, Eric’s boyfriend, I guess.”