They all laughed. Fabian scheduled in the night out at Force on his phone. He could really use a night of dancing. It had been an age.
“You should bring your hockey boyfriend,” Marcus teased.
“I’m gonna bring yourdad.”
“You should. My dad is a smoke show.”
“ABC,” Tarek said. “Anyone. But. Claude.”
That caused Vanessa to howl with laugher, and Fabian couldn’t help but join in.
“ABC,” he agreed. “Definitely.”
Chapter Eight
“Got big plans for the day off?” Wyatt nudged Ryan playfully as they were getting ready to leave the arena after another win at home.
Ryan laughed. “Yeah. I got an IKEA delivery this afternoon. Gonna put it all together tomorrow.”
“Wow. That’s a fun day.”
Ryan smiled sheepishly. “My apartment is pretty empty. I thought I might try to make it more of a home, y’know?”
Wyatt looked like he was about to make a joke, but instead said, “You need a hand with putting that shit together? I’ve assembled a few Billy bookshelves in my day. Or maybe you could ask Anders. He should be an expert, right?”
The idea of asking Anders Nilsson, Toronto’s star goalie and only Swedish player, to help Ryan assemble IKEA furniture was unimaginable. Nilsson had said maybe four words to Ryan all season. “I should be all right.”
Wyatt nodded. “Okay, well. See you in a couple of days then.”
He turned to leave, and Ryan cringed at himself. This wasexactlythe sort of opportunity his therapist would want him to seize. He ignored the knot in his stomach and said, “Hey, uh, Hazy?”
Wyatt turned back, probably just as surprised as Ryan was.
“If... I mean, if you aren’t doing anything, and you really don’t mind, it would be nice to have some help tomorrow.”
Why the fuck was that so hard?
Ryan waited, stomach churning, and was about to tell him to forget it when Wyatt smiled and said, “You buy the beer.”
Ryan nearly slumped forward with relief. God, he was pathetic.
“Deal.”
“Okay, so we’ve got some work to do.” Wyatt stood in front of the mountain of boxes of flat-packed furniture that Ryan had piled in his living room.
“Yeah,” Ryan said, running a hand anxiously over his beard. “I basically just have a bed, and the stools at my kitchen counter. Everything else is in these boxes.”
“I can see that. Where the hell have you been sitting?”
“The stools.”
Wyatt shook his head. “Well, let’s start with the couch, and then the coffee table.” He grinned. “And speaking of coffee...”
Ryan flushed. Why hadn’t he offered some as soon as Wyatt came in the door? “Of course. I’ll just... I made some. I can make a fresh pot, if you—”
“I’m not fancy,” Wyatt said easily. He was crouched in front of the boxes, head tilted as he read the labels. “I’ll drink your leftovers.”
“Okay.” Ryan rushed off to the kitchen. He hated how jittery he was. Through all his years in the NHL, and all the teams and all the apartments, he had very rarely invited anyone into his home. But he liked Wyatt, and he really did need help with this furniture. Plus, hewantedto be the kind of guy who could invite a friend over without completely falling apart.
