Chapter 10 The Re Dinner
The Reunion Dinner
Fletcher heard the door to their room open and close. He quickly finished his shower and dried off before he heard a knock at the door.
“Hey, can I come in and grab my watch charger? I think it’s in my toiletries bag.”
“Yeah, hold on.” Fletcher wrapped his towel around his waist and unlocked the door to let Taylor in.
“Thanks,” he said as he walked around Fletcher and began to dig through his bag.
Fletcher looked at himself in the mirror and began to brush his hair back away from his face. It was already curling up a bit.
Taylor found his watch charger and left the bathroom, lightly swiping his hand on the small of Fletcher’s back as he walked out.
It added to Fletcher’s nerves. But it was a different type of nervousness that he only felt around Taylor.
When he had first started on the team with the Seaporters, he had thought that Taylor was some stereotypical lone wolf kind of guy.
But as he and Taylor grew closer, he had learned that Taylor was actually pretty funny.
Well, Taylor thought he was pretty funny.
Fletcher thought he was corny and full of wit, which he had already seen through his interviews over the years.
But to know he was like this in person too just added to his candidness.
He didn’t dance around words like Fletcher sometimes did. The guy truly spoke his mind.
Fletcher had noticed the way Taylor had gotten more physical with him. The way he would lean into him if they sat next to each other. Or gave him a pat on the back and let his hand linger for just a second longer than he should’ve.
Fletcher knew it was purely platonic and casual, but he had a really difficult time pretending his body didn’t betray him and react in a certain way when Taylor touched him.
It wasn’t like Taylor was the first touchy friend he’d had.
Sánchez could get very touchy, especially if he had a lot to drink.
But it was something different with Taylor.
Sometimes his body felt drawn to him. Like Taylor was the sun, pulling Fletcher into his gravitational orbit.
And for the most part he was able to brush the feeling off and ignore it, but sometimes the urge to go over and be near him was so strong it made his whole-body itch. Like taking a pre-workout or something.
His mind was racing.
He went through the motions of getting ready for dinner.
Taylor had taken over the bathroom to shave his stubble.
Fletcher thought he looked good with a little five o’clock shadow but he knew Taylor had an issue with having stubble on his face because he “could feel the hair grow.” The more they roomed together, the more Fletcher learned about some of his little quirks.
He and Taylor rode the elevator down to the lobby, where Coach was already waiting for them. She was wearing a red blouse and some dark-wash jeans. Her hair had been blown out, and she had some light makeup on.
“Hey Coach,” Fletcher greeted.
“Auntie Nancy,” she corrected with a hint of sarcasm.
“Do I get to call you that too?” Taylor asked her.
“Nope. I didn’t change your diapers. It’s too weird.” She scrunched her nose and shook her head.
Taylor turned to Fletcher. “She changed your diapers and you still let her order you around on the ice like a dog?” He goaded.
Fletcher could only muster up a weak smile. “Guess I’m a sucker for obedience.”
The hostess brought them to their table, which was in a private corner of the restaurant. She pulled up an extra chair and placed an extra table setting for Taylor since Fletcher kind of brought him unannounced.
Taylor took a seat next to Fletcher.
“Are you okay, man?” he asked him quietly. Fletcher could see his parents approach them. His whole body tensed and he went rigid in his seat. Taylor placed a hand on his thigh beneath the table, which did not help at all. It made things worse.
“Yeah, fine,” he lied.
Coach turned her head back towards his parents. “Look who it is!” She got up out of her seat and gave Fletcher’s mom a hug.
His mom smiled at her. “Too long, Nance.” She looked at Fletcher and smiled. “Sweetie, you played amazing tonight,” she told him as he stood up to hug her. She squeezed him tightly, like she never wanted to let him go. Fletcher’s eyes met his father’s gaze. He gave his dad an awkward smile.
Sean walked over to Fletcher. He had expected him to maybe give him a handshake.
Or maybe a nod of acknowledgment. But to his surprise, he pulled Fletcher in for a hug and patted his back.
This was either really good or really, really bad.
His dad was highly unpredictable and almost as unreadable as Taylor was.
Actually, they were in a tie for first place.
Sean pulled away from Fletcher and reached over to Taylor to shake his hand.
“Sean Armstrong,” he said coolly.
Taylor wasn’t intimidated by him. He shook his father’s hand and gave him a nod. “Taylor Piers. Pleased to meet you.”
He sounded guarded and closed off like he did with most people he wasn’t close with. The way he had been with Fletcher in the beginning.
They all took their seats, and the waitress asked them if they wanted to order any drinks, not bothering to ask for IDs. The perks of being in the presence of a NHL superstar, Fletcher guessed.
His mom and Coach asked for cosmos, laughing with one another about a personal joke as they both ordered one. Sean asked for water, so Fletcher did, too. Taylor asked for whatever beer they had on tap.
“So,” Sean said to Taylor. “You scored yourself a hat trick tonight. What is that, your seventh this season?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“Eighth,” Fletcher corrected, almost instantly. He didn’t even need to think about it. His dad looked at him and pursed his lips, then looked back at Taylor. What was his dad playing at? Why was he playing the silent game with him? Fletcher had expected a screaming match.
“Right. Eight hat tricks as a rook. That’s impressive, Piers. I only scored five my rookie year.” Fletcher was surprised his dad would give up that information to Taylor.
Taylor shrugged casually as if scoring eight hat tricks halfway through his rookie year was as easy as tying his shoes. “It was a group effort, for sure. I was just the one who hit the puck into the net.”
“Totally, son. You must be pretty loyal to your team.” He flashed a golden smile at Taylor, but Taylor remained stoic and assertive. Like he was staying in control and not letting Sean get under his skin. Fletcher wanted to warn him not to take the bait.
He cleared his throat, preparing to change the topic of conversation to anything besides hockey. Taylor rested his hand back down on Fletcher’s thigh, as if to signal to Fletcher that he knew what his dad was doing. He didn’t move it.
“Loyalty’s important,” Taylor agreed indifferently. Why did Taylor’s hand on his thigh make Fletcher so nervous? It was a friendly gesture.
The waitress came back to the table with their drinks.
Coach and Mom were all laughs and giggles as if they were in their own world.
Taylor removed his hand from Fletcher’s thigh and took a sip of his beer before setting it back on the table between him and Fletcher.
He put his hand back on Fletcher’s leg like it belonged there.
Fletcher was just looking too far into things.
Because he was an emotional wreck around his parents.
“I must admit,” Taylor said to Sean, leaning in like he was confessing a huge secret. “I’m kind of a big fan. You were one of my favorites to watch growing up. My sister bought me your jersey for my birthday one year.”
Sean folded his arms across his chest, flickering his eyes to Fletcher for a second before looking back at Taylor.
Fletcher couldn’t tell if Taylor was telling the truth or not.
He’d never said anything to Fletcher that hinted towards him being a closeted Sean Armstrong fan, but Taylor was full of secrets so there was definitely a possibility.
Sean nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair.
He seemed to be letting go of his guard a little.
Taylor seemed like he knew exactly how to cut through Sean’s walls.
The easiest way to get into his dad’s good graces was by brown-nosing him.
“That’s great to hear, Piers. Glad to know a fan of mine turned out to be one of the good ones. ”
They all ordered their food. Fletcher’s dad got the lobster. His mom and coach both ordered the fish and chips—apparently another inside joke they shared. Fletcher ordered the surf and turf salad, and Taylor ordered salmon.
“You don’t want the oysters?” he asked Taylor with a raised eyebrow. Taylor shook his head and made a grotesque look.
“I hate oysters. Unless they’re fried.”
Fletcher let out a chuckle and shook his head in disbelief. Taylor really was something else.
When the server brought out their food, his mom and Coach ordered another round of cosmos. Fletcher asked for a Sprite, hoping the carbonation would help settle his stomach.
“He and I will do two more beers,” Sean told the server, gesturing between him and Taylor.
Fletcher spent the rest of his dinner listening to Taylor kiss ass.
And for some reason, it was really working.
There was something about the way he was so effortlessly able to impress his father that had Fletcher feeling some sort of way.
It just came so naturally to him, Fletcher thought.
Like he and his dad were strangely alike.
At least in their work ethics. He could tell his dad really liked Taylor. Maybe even respected him.
Even though he didn’t really mind that his dad’s attention was mostly on Taylor throughout dinner, he felt a wave of relief when Sean finally asked Fletcher a question. He’d been waiting for it to happen all night.
“Are you still going to work with the Little Manatees this summer?” he asked.