Chapter 10 #2
“Yeah, I know you.” He sipped from a tall margarita. “Have you spoken to your hockey player lately?”
“I did. We had a pleasant phone call yesterday, and we’ve been texting today.” I pulled some plates down from an upper cabinet. Damn it, I’d barely thought about the song we’d been working on. It could wait.
“So…how serious are you two? Is he out? I saw some of his teammates were, but his Insta only shows him with women.” He arched a brow.
“You looked him up on social media?” I checked the potatoes, assessing their skins. They should be done. “Pull those out and make sure they’re done while I flip the steaks.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t answer my question.” He pulled oven mitts from a drawer, slipped them on, and dragged the potatoes from the oven.
Couldn’t he wait to have this conversation while we ate? I had to consider my answers. Evan knew Drew was aware of our situation, right? After flipping the steaks, I waited outside.
Bean padded to me and looked up, panting.
“No, you’ll get your dinner soon enough.” I sniggered. Bean always lived in hope, even though I never fed him table scraps.
After the steaks were done, I plated them and brought them into the house.
Steaming baked potatoes sat open on both plates, and I piled the salad I’d made on one side. “There, all you have to do is add your sour cream and shit to the potatoes and the steaks and we’re ready to go.”
Drew gave me a lop-sided grin. “I’m starving.”
“Fine, but let the meat rest before you cut into it.” He could be impatient sometimes. I set a steak on each of the plates and then added sour cream, bacon bits, and chives to my potato while he did the same.
After picking up my food and bourbon, I brought everything to a TV tray and set it down. The television was already playing the pregame, with announcers droning on with their evaluations.
“Hey, they’re talking about your boy.” Drew cut into his steak.
“Yeah?” My attention panned to the television. Were they discussing his injury? I wasn’t sure if they’d consider it a bad hockey injury.
The announcer, sitting at the desk, said, “Yes, Evan Crosby made some amazing plays during the last game. It’ll be interesting to see if he can keep the momentum going.”
“He’s sure helping to take the heat off Ace McAdams.” A second announcer said. “If he maintains this level of play, I’m sure we’ll see him play as a Coyote next season.”
“His years in the AHL have really honed his skills. I think he’s ready.” The first announcer shuffled some papers on the desk.
“Oh, my God.” With my eyes widening, I glanced at Drew. “Did you hear that? I wonder if Evan knows what these guys are saying about him?” I ate some salad. If he didn’t, I’d inform him when he came over.
“I’m sure he’s hearing many accolades from his coach.” Drew sipped his margarita and then narrowed his eyes at me. “If they win tonight, he’ll be home for a week, right?”
“Yes.” Where was he going with this? “And yes, I plan on seeing him.” Evan had asked to spend the night…Warmth embraced my heart. God, I had it bad for him. It wasn’t like me to care about someone so much and so quickly. But I’d dated no one like him.
“He’s not out though, right?” He stuffed a bite of steak into his mouth.
“No, I’m the first man he’s been with.” I glanced at the television, which showed the players warming up on the ice.
Where was Evan? “But four players are already out on the team, so I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem.
” Maybe it was a discussion we needed to have. I doubted he was ready for it, though.
“Yeah, okay.” Shaking his head, Drew chuckled. “But if he becomes the guy everyone’s talking about during these games and some jackass reporter finds out about you two, it’ll be all over the tabloids.”
Shit, I hadn’t thought of that. “We only see each other here, in my house.” Except people had seen us together at The Coach House and the charity event. “We can keep it quiet.”
“If you plan on seeing a lot more of him, give Lily a call and warn her. Then she can prepare statements and shit.” He scooped potatoes with his fork.
He had a point. But this relationship with Evan was so new…“Yeah, I’ll think about it.” I stared at my food. Could this sort of talk scare Evan off? Maybe I should wait before I brought it up.
“What’s his family like? Do you think they’d be okay with Evan dating a dude?” He flashed a concerned look at me. “Didn’t you tell me his dad was in hockey too?”
“Yes, I did. I don’t know much about them. They seemed nice, though.” Like the perfect family I’d never had. With a calming inhale, I cut a bite a steak. Would his father not accept it? Hockey seemed less than inclusive for queer folks, but progress was starting.
He studied me. “Hey, it’s just a few things to ponder if you get serious with this guy.”
“Yeah, I know.” After eating a bite of my potato, I sipped my bourbon. “I don’t know where it’s going.” I let out a laugh, my gut tightening. “For all I know, I’m just an experiment, and when he returns, he might only want to be friends.” Hadn’t he already admitted to freaking out?
Setting his silverware on his plate, he angled toward me. “How many times have you two, uh, fooled around?”
“Twice. It’s happened twice, and both times…” Heat spread through my groin, and I raised the edge of my mouth. “Both times it was amazing.”
“Amazing, huh?” A sharp laugh escaped him. “You’re in love.”
“Stop it.” I tsked and ate more food. I was in lust, maybe infatuated, but not in love. Not yet.
“Ronan, you’re the first guy he’s been with, and you’re telling me the sex was amazing. You usually have shitty things to say about guys after you fool around with them. Even ones with lots of experience.”
He was right. I was a connoisseur of sorts regarding sex with men.
I’d had so many…I relived the moment—me perched on the kitchen counter when Evan had been here—and my dick twitched.
“He’s just different, okay? He’s, I don’t know, sexy and confident, even though it was his first time. He’s caring, he’s—”
“Okay, I get it.” Drew held his palm out to me and then huffed. “Has he seen your studio yet?”
My brows snapped up. “No, why?” I drank more bourbon and cut another piece of steak. Don’t say it…
“Because knowing you, if you let him in there, it’s all over.” He gave a soft snort and sipped his drink. “Have you ever let a guy in there besides me and Jax?”
“No.” Hell, it held all my damn secrets. Songs I’d kept hidden because they were too personal. I flipped a bang off my forehead. “You two have to see it. It’s where we work when we’re at home.”
“I always thought if you ever let another soul into your studio besides us, then you’d finally be in love.” He sighed and ate some salad. “You’ve never been in love, and I’ve never seen you so fucking excited about a guy.” He laughed. “Or anyone, for that matter.”
Hell, he knew me best. “Drew, it’s too soon to talk this way, and I’m not in love. In lust, maybe, but not in love.” I shifted my gaze to the television. The players readied for the faceoff at center ice. “The game is about to start, so let’s shelve this conversation.”
“Yeah, fine.” He ate more food.
The game remained tied with just two minutes left in the third period.
It had been a nail-biter, keeping Drew and I on the edge of our seats.
From what I could tell, Evan was skating his heart out and had made several saves, throwing himself on the ice to stop the puck, or smashing a Shark forward into the boards and stealing the puck.
“I don’t know, this might extend into overtime.” Drew drank his third margarita.
“What happens then?” I clenched my jaw, watching a Sharks forward toss the puck to his teammate while they sped toward the goal.
“Then they play a sudden-death period. First team to score wins.” He placed his forearms on his thighs as he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the game. “Look, Crosby got the puck again.” He pointed at the television.
“Oh, shit.” I glued my gaze to the screen, my pulse beating into my temples.
Evan passed the puck back and forth with his teammates, working toward the Shark’s goal. When they reached the Shark’s blue line, he drew his stick back and blasted the puck through players, toward the goal.
“Holy fuck!” I stood, slapping my finger to my mouth.
As the Sharks’ goalie dropped, the puck slid under his ass, and the horn blew.
“He did it! He scored!” Drew hopped off the couch, jogged to me, and grabbed my hands, jumping up and down. “Your boy scored a goal in a fucking playoff game.”
“He did.” With a whoop, I jumped. I didn’t know defenders could score. I had so much to learn about hockey.
As the camera panned to Evan, he held up a gloved index finger and said, “That’s for you, R.”
I halted in my tracks, blinking. Did he mean me?
An announcer said, “I wonder who R is? A new girlfriend, maybe?” He snickered.
“Ronan, he just dedicated his fucking goal to you.” Drew squeezed my hand and then released it. “Maybe he’s planning on coming out for you?”
“Yeah, I-I don’t know.” Maybe our relationship meant more to him than I’d thought? I stared at the television, watching him skate to the bench, and all the players patting his back or tapping their helmets together.
“I’m telling you, this guy is going places. It’s not common for a D-man to score, let alone one in a second pair.” Drew returned to his place on the couch. “Anyway, the game is over. I’ll bet the Sharks pull their goalie.”
Just as he said that, the Sharks’ goalie left his net.
He threw his hand out and dropped it. “See? Told you. Now Hopkins and Jarvis will eat that shit up. How many goals do you think they’ll score in the next minute?” With a sharp laugh, he said, “Want to make a bet?” He slipped his wallet from his joggers.
“No, I’m not betting anything.” I fell into my spot on the couch and chewed my thumbnail. “I don’t want to jinx it.” If they ended up losing somehow, I’d feel terrible.
“Yeah, whatever.” He threw his wallet on the coffee table. “Are we working on that song when this is over?”
I peeked at him. I’d gotten some new vibes for it while I’d taken Bean on the long walk yesterday. “Yes, let’s do that. I’m ready.”