Page 2 of The Trade Deadline
Belatedly, Ryan took a sip of his own drink and winced at the too-sweet flavor.
“Good, right?” There was a dimple on one side when he smiled, giving him a mischievous, boyish look.
“Mmm,” Ryan said noncommittally. It was definitely a drink. With alcohol. Given the state of the other players and their growing entourage of fans, that seemed to be enough. Maybe he should go to his room before things got too rowdy. Ryan wasn’t a partier and he didn’t really have anything to celebrate. The last thing he needed was a hangover right before going home and getting jetlagged. “Look, thanks but?—”
“You’re very handsome.”
Ryan’s brain momentarily shut off. He didn’t just hear that, right?
“This whole place is full of handsome guys.” Lars gestured with a sweeping hand across the lobby, almost smacking a painting off the wall. “And you’re still the handsomest here.”
Okay, so he’ddefinitelyheard correctly. He gulped and stared at Lars with wide eyes.
For the first time since Lars had rescued him from the corner, he frowned. “Oh,” he said sheepishly. “Are you not gay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I got ahead of myself and?—”
“You aren’t wrong,” Ryan interrupted andholy shit, where did that come from? How strong was the rum if he was openly admitting this to a stranger in the middle of a crowded lobby like it wasn’t a piece of himself he completely ignored most of the time? “I mean,” he said in a rush, “I’m not, like,completelygay. Mostly gay. Kinda gay. Gay enough?”
God he was an idiot.
Lars looked relieved. “Phew! It wouldn’t be the first time I made an ass of myself, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever be more disappointed than if I found out you were straight.” He gave Ryan an appreciative once over. “What a waste if you were.”
This was surreal. One of the top NHL prospects, a World Juniors gold medalist, a complete charmer (apparently) and hottie (confirmed), was hitting onhimof all people. A nobody from a losing team who hoped to get drafted before the last round. Weird that this would be the highlight of his time in Switzerland, but he’d take it.
“Yeah?” Ryan tried a shy smile. He wasn’t good at flirting. Hell, his few one night stands had been from women (and one memorable guy) aggressively taking the lead after meeting him at a rink. Puck bunnies who didn’t care if Ryan was an awkward, uncharismatic, sweaty mess.
The point was, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.
Lars didn’t seem to mind. He slung his free arm over Ryan’s shoulders. “Definitely. I have a nice room. No roommate. Good bed, very comfortable. Very big. Room for one more.”
He could smell strawberry on Lars’s breath, strangely inviting. With him pressed against his side, Ryan wondered if he’d taste like daiquiris too. He licked his lips. This was probably a bad idea, long term. Aside from getting off tonight and having some fun to bookend his trip, he didn’t see any good coming from this hookup.
“I— I don’t— Uhm, maybe—” he stuttered. Why did he have to be such a dork?
“If you don’t want to,” Lars said seriously (if not quite soberly), “then we can stay down here and enjoy the festivities.” He leaned impossibly closer, his lips brushing Ryan’s ear as he whispered, “But I promise to make it worth your while. I’m very good.”
Ryan whimpered. He hoped the music and chatter were too loud for Lars to hear him, but then he chuckled, a low rumble Ryan felt more than heard, and he knew there was no point in denying it. “I want to,” he managed. “To go upstairs. With you.”
Lars winked at him and pulled him towards the elevator. Ryan looked around, saw no one was paying them any attention, and figured to hell with it. He wanted to find out what Lars Nilsson tasted like, consequences be damned.
NHL Teams
THE EASTERN CONFERENCE
Atlantic Division
The Boston Militia
Buffalo Bears
Carolina Reapers
Motor City Racers
New England Nor’Easters
Ontario Ice Owls
Quebec Fleurs-de-lis
