Page 90 of Skating to Him

He pressed his gloved hand to his face as his eyes went wide. “Oh my, you’ve changed.”

“I have. I’m queer now.” I burst out a laugh and wrapped my arm around his. Funny how I’d always kept some distance between us. Not anymore.

“I like the new you.” He strode with me to the bar’s entrance, which was up a few steps and covered by a green awning. “After you.” He opened the glass door and waved me inside.

“Thanks.” I stepped in and looked around. The place was the same as always this time of year. The scent of old cigarette smoke and stale beer filled the air, and the old vinyl barstools lining the long bar were all cracked. Sitting at the stools were the heavy-drinking regulars mixed with the out-of-towners looking for a good dive bar, and this was it.

A guy cracked a ball with the cueball on one of the two pool tables under a long Budweiser lamp and the jukebox played old rock from the seventies.

“Where do you want to sit?” We should find a corner somewhere that we wouldn’t be bothered. I spied such a table by the side window to the place. “Over there, maybe?” I pointed to it.

“Yeah, sure.” He eyed the bar.

“You go grab the table and let me get the first round. What do you want?” I stepped toward the bar. Nobody usually said anything about Teddy in here, but I didn’t want tonight to be the first time.

“If you could get me a beer, that would be great. The wine in here is terrible.” With a snicker, he sauntered toward the table.

I ordered us both beers, paid, and then brought them to the table and set them down. “So, how are things?”

“Can’t complain. Looking forward to one last semester and then graduation.” He held up his beer to me, his brown hair cut shorter than usual and his blue eyes intense.

I tapped my glass on his. “Agreed.” I took a sip of the beer. “Any companies interviewing you yet?” Any place would belucky to have him. He was a talented mechanic and would do great in the automotive industry.

“Not yet. But I haven’t filled out any applications either. I’ll start doing that in a month or so.” He glanced out the window, drinking his beer, and focused on me. “So, tell me, what’s going on with your family? You were going to come out to them, right?”

Shit, I hadn’t told him yet about Mom. “Uh, no.” I rubbed my finger around the rim of my glass, staring at it, my gut knotting. “Mom’s having a flare-up, and it’s wicked bad this time. So, I decided not to do it.”

He blinked and parted his lips. “I’m sorry to hear about Sharon not feeling well. But why wouldn’t you still come out? Is Tyler still going to visit?”

“He is. We’re going to hide our relationship while he’s here.” I shrugged and met his gaze. “We won’t have to hide it when we’re not at home, but I don’t know.” Was I doing the right thing? “If Dad doesn’t like it, or one of my brothers, I don’t want to start a big mess with Mom not feeling well. She shouldn’t be stressed about anything.”

With one of his brows hooking, he said, “Rowan, I don’t think anyone in your family is going to have a problem with it. Everyone has been so lovely with me.”

“I know, but…” I twisted my lips. I couldn’t tell him that maybe they were okay with him because he wasn’t their son. He’d been lucky. He was from an accepting family who hadn’t cared when he’d come out during high school.

“But what?” He leaned in close, eyeing me. “You’re afraid. Maybe it’s still too new?”

“Maybe.” No, that wasn’t the case. I was ready to build a life with Tyler. “I don’t want to do anything to upset my mom, not when she’s already having a hard time of it.” I slumped my shoulders. I was being a shit. “Anyhow, Tyler knows, and he’s okay with it.”

“Okay.” He sat back in his chair. “Have you heard from any scouts?”

“Not yet. I know there’ve been some inquiries, but nothing solid.” Maybe I’d move to Chicago and be Tyler’s puck boy. I chuckled. “I suppose if I don’t get anything, I could try and find a job in Chicago. I mean, Tyler’s most likely going to end up with the Blackhawks.”

“Why even find a job if your boyfriend is in the NHL? Don’t you think he could support you in a life of luxury?” He sniggered and sipped his beer.

“Ha-ha.” Holding my glass, I pointed a finger at him. “Do you really see me being a kept man?” Funny, I’d always thought I’d end up in the NHL, married to a hot little puck bunny with a few hockey-playing kids around me. I guessed we could still have the kids.

“No, I don’t.” He tilted his head. “I can’t wait to meet him. What do you want to do when he gets here?”

“When I first met him, I introduced him to the Ward 8 cocktail. So, let’s take him to the bar named after it. What do you say?” I peered at him. He wasn’t expecting us to go straight to the gay bar, was he?

“Okay. I think that place is close to the arena too, isn’t it? Maybe we could catch a Bruins game in the bar while we’re there?” He ticked his brows and sipped his beer.

“You’d want to watch hockey? With two hockey players?” With a grin, I side-eyed him. He’d never been interested in it before, unless I was playing in the game.

He held up his index finger. “Wait a minute. Let me look at the schedule.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped on the screen. His eyes widened. “Oh my…the Bruins are playing the Maple Leafs the night after he flies in. We could expose him to Bruins fans.”

“Oh shit, one of his buddies plays for the Leafs.” With a chuckle, I shook my head. “I don’t know who he’d root for.” But it sure would be a fun time.

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