Page 9 of Bar Down

“That’s a lie. I mean you care about us, sure, but you don’t treat us like this. You don’t cover us with blankets when you think we’re cold. You don’t bring us water when we’re hungover. You don’t rub our backs when we throw up because we drank too much. Should I keep going?”

“No.” I take a moment to gather my thoughts then say, “It’s hard to explain. When I met him I thought he was an idiot and he probably still is, but he’smyidiot, you know?”

Robbie smiles and sits down on the oversized chair next to the couch. His easygoing attitude makes me relax more so I continue. “I told myself I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. I know I never talk about my previous relationship, but I was young and stupid and fell in love with a teammate.” I look up at him, waiting for any judgment or negative reaction, but all I get back is a nod.

“I was twenty-four when we started seeing each other. We were on the same team in Finland and we hit it off. Both of us wanted to keep it a secret because, let’s be real, gay men in hockey are not exactly respected.” There are very few openly gay players in the league, if at all. So we did our best to hide it, and we did for two years, until a couple months before my trade here. “I was ready to come out, but he didn’t think I should. He basically told me I’d ruin my career if I did. So I asked him where he saw our relationship going. You know what he said?”

Robbie shakes his head and waits for me to find my words. I swallow the bitterness of that failed relationship and the disappointment that came with it and say, “Nowhere. He said it was just a fun way to pass the time for a while, but he would never even dream about being seen with me in public, let alone date me openly.”

“So what’s keeping you from telling all this to Ash? I mean he’s not exactly closeted. Sure, he doesn’t publicly announce his orientation, but we all know he’s bi.”

My gaze strays to Ash again and I watch his chest rise and fall a few times before answering. “I just don’t think I’d be good for him. He’s got so much potential, and I’ve got a lot of baggage that he doesn’t need to deal with. I don’t want to put that pressure on him.”

“I still think you should tell him.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I sigh, my fingers itching to brush Ash’s hair off his forehead.

“You know what I think?” Robbie says, and I finally pull my eyes away from Ash. “I think he gets drunk on purpose so you take care of him. Because he’s too scared to tell you how he feels and so he hides behind pretenses to be near you,” Robbie continues, and of course he’s right on the money.

Except, Ash did tell me how he felt, or tried to at least.

He said heliked me.

When I don’t say anything else, Robbie stands up. “You should take him to the spare bedroom and stay with him so he doesn’t throw up all overmybed, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” I say quietly, looking at Ash and giving in. My fingers brush the soft hair off of his forehead and he sighs in his sleep.

I carry Ash to the spare bedroom and make sure he’s on his side in case he wakes up and needs to throw up. I leave a trash can next to the side of the bed, for good measure. Once I’m sure he’ll be okay for a few minutes, I step out again to get some water. When I get to the kitchen, I’m startled by Olivia as she closes the fridge and faces me.

I bring a hand to my heart and say, “Helvetti!Olivia, you scared me.”

She chuckles but quietly says, “Sorry, Eli.”

“It’s okay,” I say and approach the island, tapping it with my fingers.

“What does that word mean?” she asks and opens the fridge back up.

“Helvetti?”

Olivia nods and turns toward me, handing me two water bottles.

“It means hell.”

“Helvetti, I like it,” she says.

“I can teach you more, if you’d like.” Olivia raises an eyebrow, surprised. I guess I should try harder to connect with her, now that she’s officially Robbie’s girlfriend. “That way you can swear at players on ice without them knowing. Unless they’re Finnish. Then they’ll know,” I say, and Olivia bursts into laughter. I can’t help but join in.

“What’s the word forass?” she asks.

“Perse.”

She giggles again and says, “Dustin Mitchell is aperse.”

I shake my head, “No, Mitchell is avittu.”

“What’s avittu?” she asks and takes a sip of water.

“Cunt,” I say, and when she chokes on her water, I laugh.

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