“Then reach out to him. Be chill about it, and don’t go so hard on yourself. He’s probably obsessing over everything he thinks he did wrong last night too. Trust me, I’ve been there. YouknowI have.”
That was true. There had been more than a few times where their roles in this type of conversation were reversed. “So, what should I say?”
Vanessa shook her head, and grabbed her bag from the back of her chair. “Uh-uh. I don’t get paid enough for that. If you can’t figure out basic conversation with the guy you’re doomed anyway.”
“I bought you a latte,” Fabian pointed out feebly.
“Bye! I love you. Text me later. Tell me how it goes.”
She left before he could take up any more of her time, and Fabian pulled out his phone. He stared at Ryan’s name in his contacts for a long time.
What exactly did Fabian want? He had happily gone more than thirteen years without having Ryan Price in his life, and he could go right back to being happy without him. These past couple of weeks could just be an awkward road bump, and Fabian could end it right now by deleting Ryan’s contact info. Because what was he honestly expecting to happen? That he and Ryan would startdating? That he would become the boyfriend of an NHL player?
The thought made him want to erupt into giggles in the middle of the Starbucks. His parents wouldlovethat.
Holy shit. His parents.
Whatwouldthey think if Fabian started dating not only a hockey player, but one who had lived with them? He was sure they would be shocked that Ryan was gay, for one. That definitely would not compute in their brains. For another, they might think that he and Fabian had fooled around as kids back then, under their roof. Maybe they would think Fabian had been secretly seducing all their precious hockey player boarders.
Gross. As if.
Or maybe they wouldliketheir son dating a hockey player. Maybe they might finally understand him if they all shared a common interest. Of sorts.
Whoa. Fabian was gettingwayahead of himself here. He needed to go back to seeing if Ryan even wanted to ever talk to him again, and not worry himself about bringing Ryan home to Mom and Dad.
Okay. He could admit that hereallydidn’t want to delete Ryan’s info. The idea of never talking to him again was surprisingly painful. Even if Ryan never wanted anything beyond friendship, Fabian would take it. It probably was the best arrangement for them anyway.
After an absurdly long time, Fabian typed outHiand hit send.
There. Perfect.Hi. Completely friendly and nonthreatening.
The game on Tuesday night had felt longer than normal, and it was likely because Ryan had barely slept the night before. He hadn’t been able to stop replaying everything that had happened between him and Fabian.
He couldn’t stop feeling Fabian’s lips on his.
He’d made the right decision, leaving. That was what he had determined after a night of agony. Fabian deserved so much better than him. He couldn’t explain why the two of them had such an easy, natural connection, but it didn’t matter. As far as he could tell, Fabian had an easy, natural connection with everyone, so it was really only Ryan who was benefiting here.
He rolled these thoughts around as he took an unnecessarily long shower in the locker room after the game. Most of his teammates had been talking excitedly about Kent’s upcoming party, and Ryan hadn’t wanted to listen to any of it. He was more tempted than ever to just stay home on Friday night.
At least he didn’t have to feel bad about not going dancing with Fabian that night anymore. Ryan had done an excellent job destroying any chance that Fabian would still wantthatto happen. It was back to life-as-usual for Ryan: hockey, therapy, reading, and, when he was feeling amorous, porn.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the shower room. The first person he saw was Anders Nilsson, who was stylishly dressed as always. Tonight he was wearing sleek, dark pants, a cobalt button-down shirt, and a crisp, brown trench coat. Did peopleirontheir coats? Ryan wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t spot a wrinkle or flaw on any part of Nilsson’s outfit.
Like Ryan, Nilsson had a full beard and he wore his hair a little long. Unlike Ryan, his hair and beard were neat and fashionable, making him look more like a suave European fashion model, and less like a man who had been lost at sea for a month.
“What?”
Ryan blinked. He had beenstaringat Anders. And now Anders was looking at him with irritation, and possibly disgust.
“Sorry. Mind was wandering,” Ryan mumbled.
Ryan hurried over to his stall and started to get dressed. He wondered where Nilsson got his hair cut. Should he ask? Ryan’s hair and beard situation was definitely out of control; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done more than give his beard a lazy at-home trim.
He wasn’t the right guy for Fabian, but, fuck, maybe he could be the right guy forsomeone. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he’d given up completely on himself, but he missed thinking he might be somebody worth talking to. Worth touching.
Ryan made a decision to look up barbershops in his neighborhood. Maybe he could get an appointment for tomorrow. He was sure it had everything to do with Fabian studying him so closely last night, but he was suddenly so embarrassed about his appearance that he needed to do something about it immediately.
When he put on his coat, he pulled his phone out of the pocket. He’d had it turned off all day, because he hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone, and he hadn’t wanted to be tempted to text Fabian. But now he wanted to Google barbershops. When he turned the phone on, though, he saw a text message notification. From Fabian.
