Chapter Seven #2
“So we meet again, my friend. You’re becoming quite the regular, aren’t you?”
“You had a great game. How many goals did you fend off? It seemed like a tremendous amount.”
Puffed up from the compliment, Denis grinned smugly. “I don’t know the final tally yet, but if it keeps up, I may set a team record this year. Maybe a league one as well.”
“What’s the average shots on goal you have to take?”
“Usually between thirty to thirty-three, but this felt closer to forty.”
“Wow.” Adrian sounded impressed, and I hated to admit that it bugged me.
There was little Denis liked more than talking about himself, and Adrian’s questions were good ones, I had to admit.
Call him a cocky fuck—and I did—but Denis was correct.
He was playing the best games of his career, and if we won the Cup, he was a huge part of the reason.
That arrogance and self-assurance were what had drawn me to him initially.
Over time, it grew tiresome, but I’d ignored it because I’d fallen in love with him.
Don’t go there.
Adrian remained with Denis. “Looks like the Blades are going to have a great season overall.”
“Yes. So much to look forward to. Plus, my wedding. We’re going to wait until after the season ends to do it right. Maybe you and Rip will come?”
What the fuck is he talking about?
I tried hard not to be too obvious as I listened in on their conversation, but Seb called me out.
“You know Denis. He’ll do anything to get attention, no matter how outrageous,” Seb said. “Denis is always going to be all about Denis.”
My smile was sheepish. “Busted, huh?”
“Adrian’s holding his own. Give him space.”
Of course Seb was right. Still, I kept a discreet eye and ear on them and couldn’t help a sigh of relief when Adrian ended their interview.
“I, uh, don’t know. I’d better let you go. Thanks again, Denis, and good luck with the rest of the season.”
Brow furrowed, Adrian returned to me. “Was he kidding? Inviting me to his wedding? And you?”
I brushed off his concerns. “Ignore him. I’m gonna take a shower and get ready. Meet you out front in a few. You can talk to some more guys, too.”
He nodded, and I grabbed my shower stuff and left him.
It didn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to get cleaned up and dressed, and I found Adrian outside, talking to John, their heads together, watching some film.
We walked out together, and as I passed through the arena, fans asked for autographs, so I stopped.
Several other players were also chatting with fans.
“I have to stop and do this.”
“Of course. No problem.”
My phone buzzed, stopped and vibrated again, but I ignored it. The worst thing for a player to do was ignore the people who’d waited after a long game to see them. I signed programs, jerseys, T-shirts, and posed for pictures.
“Rip, Rip.” One little kid sitting on his father’s shoulders waved his program. “You’re my favorite.”
“I am? Well, that deserves a special picture.” I held him and plopped my cap on his head while his father took out his camera. A second man stood by his side, also recording us.
“Thanks so much. You have no idea how much it means for us as parents to see gay professional sports players. When Dale and I got married, we never thought we’d be fathers, but we decided to foster, then adopt, and now it’s the best thing we ever did.
We want Charlie to have everything any other little boy has. ”
That made me tear up. “I’m glad,” I managed to get past the lump in my throat. “Thank you for sharing that with me, and have a great night.”
The conversation left me emotional, which must’ve been the reason why I answered my phone without looking at the screen.
“Please don’t hang up on me, Ripley,” my father pleaded.
I covered my eyes with my hand. “What is it? I told you not to call me. Ever.”
“I’m your father. Why can’t you give me a chance to explain things?”
“Explain how you ran out on us? Never tried to see me? There is no explanation for that in my book.”
“Please, Rip, I just want—”
“I know what you want. And I’ve told you before I’m not interested in your side of the story. Nothing you say can explain away what you did. I don’t want to hear from you again. Stop calling me.”
“You’re my son, whether you like it or not. Just let me see you. Tell you the truth.”
“Why? So you can play the martyr? My mother worked her ass off to give me everything and died with nothing. You think you’re gonna waltz into my life and I’m gonna write you a check? That’s it, isn’t it? The money?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Just leave me alone.”
I ended the call and shoved the phone into my pocket. Unfortunately, when I glanced up, I saw Adrian’s sympathetic face.
“Rip. Are you all right?” He put a hand on my back, and I shrugged, unable to speak. “Let’s get out of here, ’kay?”
I nodded, he put an arm around me, and we walked outside. It wasn’t until we were in the car that I found my voice again.
“Sorry about that.”
Adrian slipped his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t apologize. Do you want to talk about it?”
Ignoring his question, I peered out the window. “Where are we going?”
“I thought we’d go to my apartment. We can order in. Talk.”
“Adrian…I don’t know. There’s nothing much to say.”
“I disagree.” As hesitant as he’d been on camera, Adrian’s voice held a take-charge edge I hadn’t heard before. It hit me that the two of us were alone. I’d been so caught up in my head, I’d forgotten we’d had a cameraperson on us the whole time.
“Wait, where’s John? Dammit. He didn’t film the phone conversation, did he?”
“No, he stopped after you talked with the little kid and his dads, which was awesome, by the way. I told him to return to the station. Bryan will pick out the clips for the eleven p.m. sports segment. It’s just you and me.”
“Where do you live?”
“Brooklyn too, in Gowanus. See?” The car slowed to a stop. It was a small four-story brick building with an awning. “No doorman or fancy amenities, but I can offer you friendship and a shoulder. An ear to listen.”
I mustered a half smile and followed him into the building and his small one-bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket. I did the same.
“Want a beer or something to drink?”
“Water would be great.” I needed to keep my thoughts collected, and even one beer might loosen my inhibitions, causing me to make a foolish decision. “Nice place.”
Adrian snorted and handed me a glass. “It’s fine.
I got lucky. It’s rent-stabilized but still costs more than double what I paid in North Carolina for an apartment almost twice the size with a pool and a gym.
” He scanned the room. “But the location is good.” He sipped his water and set it on the coffee table. “So, you’re leaving for a few games?”
“Yeah. A travel day tomorrow, then two games on the road with an off day in between. Practice, of course, but I still have free time.”
I’d almost forgotten how to relax and talk to someone after a game.
More often than not, I’d come home and sit in front of the television, but I’d listen to the voices in my head telling me what I’d done wrong on the ice or how I’d messed up with Denis.
I missed the warmth of human companionship. Being touched.
“Must be hard to always be on the go.”
I shrugged and took a swig of water. “You learn to deal with it. My career in the game is relatively fleeting, so I can’t complain. Hockey has given me so much.”
“But you love it?”
“I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. It’s all I ever wanted.”
Adrian’s smile was wistful. “It’s rare that someone gets to accomplish their dreams. You’re lucky.”
“You’re gonna get there too. Have faith in your ability. I do.” Knowing how he still doubted himself, I hoped my words would build him up.
Adrian stared off into the distance. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll see how they like my segment tonight. I really am trying, but it’s hard. I’m not a sports buff and not into all the facts and figures. I’m sure it shows.”
“So change that. You have plenty of time between now and when I come for the interview. Study the games, and if you need help, call me and we can talk about it. I’ll help you, I already told you that.”
“I don’t know why you’re bothering.”
Damn, I hated how defeated he sounded before he’d even started. “Because I know you can do it. Seb mentioned to me—unsolicited—that he thought you were doing a good job.” I put my hand on his leg, and he tensed but didn’t move away. “I have faith in you. You need to as well.”
“I’ll have everything ready for when you and Seb come to the studio. So what do you want to eat?”
“Anything is good.”
“Burgers and fries?”
I nodded and sat with my legs stretched in front of me as he took out his phone to place the order. The conversation with my father lingered in the corner of my mind, like a thief waiting to strike at the most opportune time.
How did the man always get under my skin? I should block his number and be done with him. Nothing he could say and no reason could be given to change my mind about his abandonment of my mother and me. Yet I couldn’t take that final step. Maybe I was a coward.
“Rip?”
I’d been so lost in my head, I hadn’t noticed Adrian had moved to sit beside me. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“Did you want to talk about the phone call earlier? I’m a good listener, and I don’t repeat things.”
That earlier pain choked me again. Dammit. Why was I so emotional? Maybe because before I’d had Denis to concentrate on, but now I was alone.
“It…it was nothing.”
But Adrian was damn stubborn. “That’s bullshit. Why’re you lying to me?”
“I’m not. It’s just…it was my father.” At his brows flying high, I almost laughed. “Yeah. He’s been calling me for years, and I’ve been ducking him. First it was for money, and I wasn’t going to go down that path because I know if I feed the beast once, it’ll never end.”
“Oh. Wow. That’s…I didn’t expect you to say that.”
“Yeah. Tonight he calls and says he wants to explain why he left. I’m not the least bit interested.”
“I’m really sorry. I totally understand why.”
“Then why do I keep thinking about him? I should be concentrating on the upcoming games and winning, and yet he’s in my head.” I smacked my fist on my thigh. “It’s not…goddamn it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about me.” I forced my lips to a smile. “You did well tonight.”
“You don’t have to keep it inside. I’m your friend. You can talk to me.”
The buzzer rang, and Adrian huffed out a sigh. “That’ll be our food.”
“I’m gonna turn on the news. See what bits from your interview they used.”
Adrian accepted the bag from the delivery person and set it on the table. My phone rang, and it was Neil.
“Hey, how’s—”
“What the hell, man?” Neil’s voice burst out from the phone, and Adrian stared at me. “You swore nothing was going on between you and Adrian.”
“We’re friends.”
“Yeah? Well, Out in Sports has a different perspective.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t talked to Out in Sports since Denis and I broke up.”
“I told you not to mess with Adrian.”
“I’m not. Jesus, you’re reaching. Just because we’re hanging out doesn’t mean anything.”
“You’re with him now. At this very moment.” His tone was quiet. Flat. Like nothing I’d ever heard before.
“You know…I don’t know when you started believing that us being best friends means I answer to you about my personal life. Because I don’t. Now why don’t you calm the fuck down, and we’ll talk tomorrow when you pull your head out of your ass.”
I ended the call and turned off my phone. I noticed Adrian bent over his, eyes pinned to the screen.
“Adrian?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes downcast, face flushed. My stomach went into free fall.
“What’s wrong?”
He handed me his phone.