Chapter 17 #2
That had been the only excuse Nate could come up with for why it might not be a great idea.
The general concept didn’t bother him; in fact, he was surprisingly interested to meet this ex-hockey playing best friend of Ramsey’s who’d quit playing to become a doctor.
But the fact that the ex-hockey playing best friend was dating one of the best defensive players in the NFL?
Nate hadn’t been entirely sure he’d want to sit down and break bread with Dean Scott, no matter how the game went.
They’d greeted each other fine, meeting up in the shadowed restaurant atrium, exchanging great games and Brody insisting on hugging Nate, which had made Ramsey hiss at least one semi-serious threat under his breath.
It was only then that Ramsey had realized Wes had decided he wouldn’t show up to dinner.
Brody winced as they were shown to their table. “He said he was tired and that he’d grab breakfast with us tomorrow morning, before we fly out. I think . . .I think it might have been too much for him.”
“He could’ve told me,” Ramsey argued.
Nate and Dean had ended up pulling up the rear as Brody and Ramsey tipped their heads together to discuss, as they called it, the Wes Problem.
Nate was used to exchanging, at the bare minimum, generic small talk with other players, but he hadn’t been sure what to expect of Dean.
Then Dean turned to him and said, “I hope your rookie, Atkinson, doesn’t beat himself up too much about that play.”
For a second, Nate didn’t know how to react or what to say. He bristled, a little instinctively, at the reminder that the Riptide had won and the Thunder had lost, but then that was swept away entirely by gratitude that Dean gave a shit about the feelings of one of the players on Nate’s team.
Specifically the player that Nate had been trying to mentor, but Dean couldn’t possibly know that.
“I hope so too,” Nate said quietly, shooting Dean a look that hopefully spoke volumes about his gratitude.
“Hard to be a rookie,” Dean said, voice gruff. “’Course, you guys are a great unit. Veteran. Solid. You’re doing a great job with him.”
It felt bitter on Nate’s tongue as he admitted, “Not good enough.”
But Dean just shrugged. “Sometimes it takes time. Sometimes it takes something like today to remind a guy of what they need to do.”
Nate didn’t want to say that it was instead more likely that Jordan would spiral—either on or off the field, or possibly both—but that was his gut feeling.
“Hopefully,” Nate said as the hostess led them to the private room that Ramsey had reserved.
Over the last week he’d rotated through four or five possible restaurants before finally settling on this one.
Nate had asked him one night why the actual restaurant mattered so much, but hadn’t known how to answer when Ramsey had admitted this was his first double date and he just wanted it to be perfect.
Nate took a seat next to Ramsey, Ramsey reaching out and squeezing his thigh. “Hey,” he said in a low voice, “is Jordan okay?”
“I don’t know,” Nate admitted, and that was the best-case scenario.
He’d tried talking to Jordan right after the game but Sterling had gotten to him first, and that meant that by the time Nate had arrived on the scene, Jordan had been intractable and taciturn. Not interested in talking.
He’d worried, at first, that he might need to cancel this dinner and babysit the guy, to keep him from going off the rails, but then he’d disappeared and hadn’t answered any of Nate’s texts.
He hoped that meant he’d go to the Wild Leopard or one of his other favorite strip clubs, spend too much money on private dancers in the champagne room, maybe blow even more cash on some top shelf booze, and call it good. That wasn’t ideal, but he wouldn’t get into too much trouble that way.
“I just wanna say,” Brody said, after they’d ordered drinks and an appetizer, “this is very exciting for us.” He nudged Dean, who echoed much less enthusiastically.
“Babe,” Brody said, shooting him a look.
“What? I’m confused. Are we excited that Ramsey’s finally stopped hitting it and quitting it or that when he did, he picked another football player?”
“Yes,” Brody said triumphantly.
Ramsey made a scoffing noise, but he did admit, “That’s fair. I knew you two would enjoy a good laugh at my expense so it’s good we’re getting it out of the way quick.”
“Well, I knew that it was gonna take someone special to tame our favorite wild child, so I’m personally not that surprised—”
Brody probably would’ve kept going, but Nate had felt Ramsey stiffen next to him, and frankly he didn’t like that either.
Time to say so.
“I didn’t tame him,” Nate interrupted.
Three sets of eyes swiveled towards him, and to Nate’s own surprise, the set that looked the most astonished was pale blue and belonged to his boyfriend.
“What?” Ramsey said.
“I didn’t tame anyone. You’re still wild.
You’re still amazing. Just not by yourself, anymore,” Nate said, suddenly awkward.
He hadn’t been prepared to make a confession like that, especially in front of Dean Scott, but the truth was, he’d never ascribed to any of that bullshit masculine conformity.
If Ramsey needed Nate to stand up in front of the whole goddamn world and proclaim how fucking amazing he was, then Nate would do it gratefully, and with the awe that Ramsey deserved.
For a second, nobody at the table said a word. Then Ramsey’s hand reached out and squeezed his thigh again and then didn’t let go after.
Then Brody said, quietly, “Wow.”
“Told you, he was a good one,” Ramsey agreed.
“Knew I liked you,” Dean added in his own understated way.
“Wait a second,” Nate said, finally beginning to catch up. “Was that a test?”
But Brody just shrugged, a glimmer of a smile on his face.
“You’re going to have to forgive these two,” Dean said to Nate. “They’re both too smart and know it, and sometimes they just can’t help it.”
Brody scoffed. “Not true. I could’ve helped it, but I had to know.”
“And what were you going to do about if you were right?”
“Not if I was right,” Brody said to Ramsey, “if I was wrong.”
That seemed to take most of the wind out of Ramsey’s sails. “Oh.”
“Exactly,” Brody retorted fondly. “Oh.”
“After this, we want to see your bar,” Dean said.
“We can arrange that,” Ramsey said.
“You told them,” Nate complained, but he wasn’t really mad.
He wasn’t going to date a guy like Ramsey and expect to know all his secrets.
As long as he got some of them—as long as it was him who Ramsey was coming home to at night, he didn’t mind any of Ramsey’s chess-mastering. It was kind of hot, in fact.
He’d bet too that he wasn’t the only football player at the table who found a big brain attractive, considering that Brody was about to graduate from medical school.
Ramsey just shrugged, a bit of a self-conscious smile on his face. “Yeah, I did. Sorry.”
“Just giving you shit, babe,” Nate said and felt the warmth inside him grow at the exact same rate as Ramsey’s smile spread across his face.
Like Ramsey liked Nate calling him babe as much as Nate liked doing it.
Their appetizers came, and Brody and Ramsey started chatting about guys they’d known in college. Mutual friends. Other guys who’d been on the Evergreens hockey team. Nate listened, enjoying learning more about Ramsey, not even from things that he said, but things that Brody volunteered.
“And Ell and Mal are still getting along?”
“Fucking blissful,” Ramsey complained. “They couldn’t be happier. Except that they moved Ell up to another line for a bit, and you know how they feel about that.”
“They’re gonna have to learn to play with other guys.”
“I know,” Ramsey said with a reluctant sigh. “But they’re just ridiculously happy just being on the same team.”
Brody chuckled. “Remember when we were half-convinced they’d kill each other?”
“Their teammates might still wish that,” Ramsey joked.
Dean turned to Nate then and asked in a low voice, “So, tell me how it is dating a guy who could run a small country?”
Even if Ramsey hadn’t been able to hear him, Nate would’ve answered the exact same way.
“Fucking amazing, actually? Some guys get boyfriends who are good at a few things, right? I get one who’s killer on the ice, smarter than everyone he’s ever met combined, and so hot people literally turn and look at him as he walks down the street.” Nate paused. “It’s win-win-win.”
Dean tilted his head, considering this. “Some guys might be intimidated.”
“Some guys have small dicks too.”
Dean barked out a laugh. “Brody said he thought we’d get along and I thought he was full of shit, but I should know better, now, than to underestimate his gut instincts.”
“Let me guess, you get it.”
“Brody could’ve done anything he wanted.
The Hurricanes were wild for him to come play for them.
He graduated two years ago, but they still reach out periodically.
Willing to place him with their AHL affiliate if he decided med school wasn’t for him.
Even offered to trade him to a team in California, if that was a sticking point.
He could’ve gone pro but he wants to use that ridiculous brain to help people instead.
And he wants to be with me.” Dean shook his head. “What’s there to be upset about?”
Nate had a feeling that was a long speech for Dean Scott, and that was confirmed when Brody leaned over, nudging him with a shoulder and tilting his head up towards his boyfriend. “I guess you do like him. Said more than three words to the guy.” He turned to Nate. “That’s unusual, by the way.”
“Not surprised,” Ramsey said, sipping his drink. “Nate’s the best. Easy to talk to.”