Chapter 12
LIAM
Garrett
How do you not break your stick over a ref’s head?
LOL I’d be lying if I said I’d never fantasized about it.
I believe that. Are they just stupid? Or do they like fucking up the game?
Hell, IDK. Sometimes I think they’re taking bribes. Sometimes I think they wouldn’t know goaltender interference if it shoved them into the back of the net.
LOL So it wasn’t just me?”
Nooo. Not at all. Barns is still fuming about it.
The whole exchange made me laugh even as I struggled to get comfortable on my couch. I had an icepack on my knee, another against my hip, a third draped over my shoulder, and a heating pad against my lower back. They were all helping… a little.
My phone pinged again, and I picked it up, careful not to dislodge the icepack on my shoulder.
I feel like I could be a better officiant than some of these dildos. Well if I could skate better.
Some of THEM could learn to skate better. I missed a spectacular scoring chance last year because the linesman got in the way. (eyeroll emoji)
You should be able to check refs.
I mean if we run into them, we run into them.
But you should be able to check them. Like you do other players. Fucking mow them down and knock them into the boards.
Like I said… if we run into them, we run into them. (halo emoji)
LOL So it’s not a penalty?
Well if we do it on purpose then it is. It’s a nasty one, too. But if they’re just in the way and we bump into them, it’s not.
You’d think that would incentivize getting out of the way.
You’d think.
Do they ever get hurt?
Oh yeah. I’ve seen a few stretchered off the ice in my career.
No shit??
No shit. Couple of years ago, Morris and a linesman collided. Broke Morris’s jaw and knocked the linesman out cold.
…that sounds made up.
Hand to God. Look it up. It’s pretty gnarly, fair warning.
He went quiet, so I suspected he was looking up the video in question.
As he did, I once again tried to get comfortable.
I also felt weird about texting back and forth with a teammate’s dad, which I’d been doing almost constantly since Thanksgiving a week ago.
I felt even weirder about how much I wanted to flirt with that teammate’s dad, and maybe suggest we do more than text or flirt.
I closed my eyes and exhaled. I was stupid. And… maybe a bit lonely, not to mention stir crazy. Some of the guys had gone out for dinner tonight, and they’d invited me along. Now I was wondering if I should’ve accepted.
Except… no. It wasn’t even because the thought of getting up off this couch made me want to die.
As much as I loved hanging out with my teammates, dinner usually included spouses and partners.
As it should, of course. The problem? I’d be one of the only single guys there, if not the only one.
Even the guys who barely needed to shave usually had girlfriends.
Me? I was the thirty-seven-year-old bachelor.
And no matter how much people liked to speculate that I was happily living my slutty best life… I wasn’t.
At one time, sure. Twenty-something Liam St. Clair had reveled in everything that came with being the openly gay face of a franchise. I had more money and sex than I’d ever dreamed of.
Now I still had the money. The sex was out there if I wanted it, and once in a while, I did.
But I envied my partnered teammates. I didn’t want someone else in my bed—I wanted someone else here.
In this huge, empty house. With me. Someone to bring along to outings.
Someone I could come home to after a road trip and say, “you won’t believe the prank one of the guys played.
” Someone to tell me about their day that had nothing to do with hockey.
What did it mean when I was turning down dinners with friends because I was too lonely to be around people?
Probably something pathetic that I should run by a therapist.
Right then, my phone pinged again.
Garrett
Wow. Glad that ref was okay!
Ref? What ref?
Oh. Right. The video.
Yeah, it was pretty bad. He was back like a week later though.
That’s good. Do you think he ever called Morris for some bullshit penalties as revenge?
Maybe, but you’d never notice because he’s always calling everyone for the softest bullshit penalties.
Oooh he’s one of those?
Ugh. He’s one of the worst. Like I seriously felt bad for him when he got hurt, but he’s still a bag of dicks.
LOL I get that. I had a boss once who got in a bad car wreck, and I felt bad and hoped he got better. Didn’t change the fact that he was an asshole.
Yes, exactly. I assume he’s not your current boss?
no, he got canned for banging HIS boss’s wife.
Oh shit. Kind of a career-limiting move there, isn’t it?
Just a bit. Wasn’t there a player who got involved with a ref’s wife?
haha yeah, that was in the minors. He got released from his contract over it. Signed in Russia now, I think.
wonder if he thinks it was worth it?
Well he’s married to the woman now, so maybe?
Wow.
He always wanted to make it into the League, though. That was his dream. So maybe he’s got some regrets now? IDK.
Fuck around and find out. (shrug emoji)
Exactly.
The conversation hit a lull, and I wasn’t sure how to fill it. Or if I should fill it. He probably had better things to do than chatting with—
Oh Christ. He was my teammate’s father. Not some guy I was trying to chat up. Not some guy I had any business chatting up. What was I doing?
Then my phone pinged again.
I hope I’m not keeping you from your evening, BTW.
My heart raced as I considered how to respond. He absolutely wasn’t. Did that mean I should continue this? Did that mean anything about this was a good idea?
No. It didn’t.
On the other hand, he was just my teammate’s dad.
It probably hadn’t even crossed his mind that I might try to chat him up or flirt with him, because all I was to him was a hockey player on his son’s team.
So what was the harm in continuing this conversation instead of wallowing in boredom and loneliness?
You’re not, don’t worry. I have a pretty sedate evening planned.
You too, huh?
Taking it easy tonight?
I should be unpacking.
Spoiler: I’m not.
LOL Careful, those boxes will become permanent furniture.
Don’t I know it LOL
I’ll get to them. Just not tonight.
Fair enough. I should be doing stuff but I’m not.
Yeah? Waiting for a game to come on?
Do you watch games when you’re not playing? Or is that like me bringing work home?
Nah I love watching hockey. Sometimes I just need a night off from it but I still watch it a lot.
I can understand needing a night off. Even if you love your job, it’s still your job.
Amen to that.
God, wasn’t that the truth. I loved hockey. I lived and breathed hockey.
But I also… lived and breathed hockey. Sometimes I needed a night to myself without sticks or pucks or whistles or goal horns.
It just sucked that those nights were by myself too, because everyone in my orbit also lived and breathed hockey.
Shit. That was something, wasn’t it? There was going to come a time in the very near future when I wasn’t playing anymore.
Who was I going to hang out with? When I’d been injured and hadn’t been traveling with the team, I’d climbed the walls needing some social interaction.
During their ten-day road trip, I’d gone out to eat and gone to the grocery store more than necessary just for some human contact.
What happened when I wasn’t on the team anymore at all?
Well, that was a depressing train of thought, wasn’t it?
Oblivious to this funk I couldn’t shake myself out of, Garrett replied to my text.
I mean, the rest of us get our entertainment by watching you do your job. If you need something to entertain you, I can send you videos of me typing on my laptop.
Like close up on your fingers? Or a wide shot?
Hockey games have multiple cameras. I’m sure I could improvise the same.
I actually snorted. The thought of him typing away under studio lights and giving the camera saucy winks was hilarious.
The commentary would be pretty funny.
Especially if it’s full of as much innuendo as hockey commentary.
OH MY GOD RIGHT? Like do they HEAR themselves?
So it’s not just my mind always being in the gutter?
mine’s always in the gutter too but those guys are something else.
Seriously. One said the other night that “the Wings are coming all over the Ice Foxes.” SIR THEY’RE WHAT?
hahaha omg yes. And how they’re always talking about us “rimming around the end” or “slipping in the back door.”
Do they know what they’re saying? Or are they that oblivious?
I think most are that oblivious. There’s one on the west coast who definitely knows though.
Oh really?
Yep. He says the same shit they all say, but there’s just something about his tone. He KNOWS.
Okay I need to watch one of their broadcasts.
You should. They’re hilarious.
I was chuckling as we texted, and I had to admit, this exchange was helping my funk. I still didn’t feel great, but snickering about ridiculous commentators lightened my mood. Shame we couldn’t do this in person. That would probably be a lot of fun.
My thought gave me pause.
It would be a lot of fun. And I’d get to shamelessly ogle him while we bantered and laughed. Maybe even test the water and flirt a little. That always seemed safer when I could read body language.
Well, except he was straight and all, but whatever. He was clearly bored tonight if he was spending his time shooting the shit with me about hockey commentators.
Finally, I decided to just go for broke.
Well neither of us is doing anything tonight besides texting. Any chance you want to grab a drink?
My heart slammed into my ribs. Fuck, that was a bad idea. I didn’t even know which was worse—if he was put off by it because, no, he didn’t want to get a drink with his son’s captain, or if he took me up on it.
A drink sounds great. You know Pittsburgh better than I do. Where do you have in mind?
I had to think about that for a moment. Or, well, I had to think about how to word my answer. Because there was really only one option right now.
Might not be smart to meet in public. People recognize me sometimes. (grimace emoji)
Oh I hadn’t thought about that.
You’re welcome to come here.
As soon as the text sent, I swore aloud. My heart was pounding. What the hell was I doing? Just getting a drink was a stupid thing to even consider. Having him come here? To my house? What was I think—
His reply appeared on the screen.
Sounds great.
I exhaled hard with relief at the realization that neither of us intended to be the responsible adult in this situation. I wasn’t going to rescind the offer, he wasn’t going to decline it, and he was going to come to my house. Whatever happened after that…
Well, nothing would happen. Because we were just two guys talking and having a drink and maybe watching some hockey. He probably didn’t think anything of it because he was straight. My invitation hadn’t even registered as suggestive because his mind wasn’t going there.
I was just stupid.
Sweet! Come by whenever. I’m here. LOL
Can you send me the address again? I vaguely remember where it is, but Sewickley is kind of a maze.
LOL No problem.
It occurred to me that it might not even cross his mind that I had something flirtatious in mind. I had no reason to believe Garrett was anything but straight.
Well, aside from those long looks.
And the way he sometimes tripped over his words when he saw me.
And the fire in those eyes every time I met his gaze.
Fuck me. I wasn’t reading this wrong, was I?
And now I was inviting him over? To my house? Alone?
Though it wasn’t like we’d be doing much even if he was a hundred percent gay and was a hundred percent into me. After all, there was a reason I was covered in icepacks and heating pads right now.
With a groan, I pushed myself up, letting some of the packs slide off. Yeah, no, there wouldn’t be any bedroom acrobatics tonight.
Some company, though. That was all I could expect from this, and truthfully, it was all I wanted.
Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I’d believe it.