“You guys are such fucking dicks.”
He glanced at Ryan, and Ryan knew he should saysomething, but Fabian’s sweater had slipped again, exposing an entire shoulder. Ryan wanted to sink his teeth into it.
“Speechless,” Fabian said, waving a hand at him. “Ryan is my new favorite.”
“Weknow,” Marcus muttered.
“That was really—” Ryan started.
Fabian cut him off. “Incredible. I know. Let’s talk about something else. Are you going to come dancing with us on Friday?”
Vanessa lit up. “Oh my god! Yes! You have to!”
“Actually, I can’t.” He looked at Fabian. “Sorry. There’s a team party—a birthday thing. I just found out about it a couple of days ago. Otherwise I would have gone.”
Fabian actually looked disappointed by this. “Oh. Well, that’s too bad. If the party sucks, be sure to drop by the club. We’ll be there until it closes, I suspect.”
“Right. Okay.” Ryan wished he could say no to the party. He didn’t want to go to Dallas Kent’s stupid house. He definitely had no interest in celebrating Kent’s birthday. But he’d promised to be a team player this year, on and off the ice. Skipping the star player’s party would likely be a bad move.
It was probably for the best. Going to a dance club with Fabian and his beautiful friends would be torture. Ryan could envision how the night would go: he would be standing against a wall, trying not to be noticed. He wouldn’t be dancing, and he’d be overheated and uncomfortable. The music would be too loud. Fabian would be on the dance floor, pressing his lithe body against some other gorgeous man. And then they would start touching, and kissing, and Ryan would be unable to look away.
And then Ryan would go home alone to unsuccessfully jerk off.
Well, fuck that. Ryan could unsuccessfully jerk off just finewithoutthe trouble of watching Fabian seduce another man on a dance floor.
The other open mic performers were both women with guitars, and both were talented with interesting songs and strong voices. But Ryan was getting anxious to leave. If he weren’t worried about being rude, he would have left after Fabian’s set. With each minute that passed, Ryan was increasingly overwhelmed by the feeling that he did not belong here. He wished he could fit in with these sparkling, creative people, but he didn’t. He was a dark cloud, and it was time he drifted away.
“I’m gonna head out,” he said, after the last performer left the stage.
“Oh,” said Fabian. “Are you just going home?”
“Yeah. Thanks for inviting me out, though. It was great to hear you again.”
Without warning, Vanessa clamped a hand on Ryan’s wrist. “Wait. Which way are you walking, Ryan?”
“South.”
“Oh good! Marcus and I are walking north, so you can walk with Fabian. We don’t like him walking alone at night.”
Ryan glanced at Fabian, but he was glaring at Vanessa. “You don’t have to, Ryan,” he said, his eyes not leaving her face.
“No, it’s okay. I can walk with you.”
“Great!” Vanessa said. “Fabian really appreciates it.”
Marcus snorted, and Ryan wasn’t sure what that was about, but for now he could focus on the noble and completely non-sexual task of making sure Fabian got home safely.
Chapter Twelve
Ten minutes later, Fabian was saying his goodbyes to his friends out on the sidewalk. He kissed both of them on the cheek, and Ryan felt a stab of embarrassment over how much that meaningless gesture had affected him last week.
“Shall we?” Fabian asked him, after Vanessa and Marcus had left.
Ryan half expected Fabian to loop arms with him, but he didn’t. Instead, he said, “So that wasn’t too terrible, then?”
“God, no. That was awesome. I had, like, goose bumps.” Ryan held his arm out, as if to prove it, before realizing he was wearing a heavy coat. He put his arm down. “Is it weird playing in front of a small audience like that?”
“Not really. I like how intimate it is. It wasn’t so long ago that I was only playing open mics like that.”
