Page 57 of The Trade Deadline
Ryan offered a weak smile. He didn’t know how they’d gotten here, but he didn’t like it. “That’s probably for the best that you haven’t run into them again. It’s awkward enough with other players. It’d be worse with a teammate.”
“It might be worth it for the right person,” Lars said quietly, though he wouldn’t meet Ryan’s gaze.
“Well,” Ryan said more bitterly than he meant to, “I knowI’mnot worth the effort.”
Lars looked up then, brow knit together in a scowl. “I don’t like when you do that.”
“Do what?” he asked defensively.Tell the truth?
“Put yourself down. You are completely worth it. And I don’t mean just…” He waved a hand as if to indicate their conversation so far. “You’re worth the ice time and being on the top line and being praised and recognized for what you do on the ice.”
Heat crept up his neck. “I’m playing hockey,” he said. “You’ve had too much to drink if you think I’ve done anything special.”
“Maybe you haven’t had enough if you think you’re not,” he grumbled and pouted.
“I couldn’t even keep up with you at practice today.”
“No one can keep up with me, that’s nothing to do with you.”
“I think the real issue is you think too highly of yourself and you don’t understand that not everyone does.”
Lars scoffed. “I think highly of myself because I’m good. I’m allowed to acknowledge that I’m good. That’s why people dismiss you. You don’t…what’s that saying…” He snapped his fingers and grinned. “You have to toot your own horn.”
This was a whole different type of uncomfortable than the relationship stuff. “I don’t like to brag.” That was an understatement: in fact, he hated it. Bragging required him to put himself out there, and when he had a bad shift or bad game, eyes were on him, comparing him to what he said he was and finding him lacking. If he didn’t say anything, people could judge for themselves. And they had. For years now, they’ve been judging and seen a bottom-six forward that was expendable.
“Well, you need to learn to like it. I can only brag for you for so long.”
Embarrassed frustration made him clench his fists. “You don’t have to?—”
“I kinda do, since no one else wants to.” Lars finished off his drink, his tongue swiping away a clump of salt from the corner of his lips. “Guess I’ll just have to convince you, first. Might be a better use of my time.”
There was a heat in his voice and a hungry look to him that made goosebumps rise along his arms. The words were innocent enough, even with the hint of challenge there, but Ryan could easily pick up the…notthreat,exactly, more like a promise. But there was anintentfor sure, and Ryan didn’t know if he should avoid it or seek it out.
“Good luck,” Ryan said, then reached into Lars’s space to grab a menu. Not that he needed it—Rangoons hadn’t changed its menu since it opened—but it served as a barrier between them. “Know what you want?”
“Yes,” Lars said with more conviction than a dinner option warranted. “I think I finally do.” When Ryan raised an eyebrow and shot him a questioning look over the menu, he grinned broadly. “Crab cakes, obviously.”
Thankfully, they didn’t discuss anything deeper than their next few games for the rest of dinner.
Chapter19
Lars
Lars was fullyaware that pursuing any sort of romantic or sexual relationship with Ryan was a bad idea. He had nothing but reasons to avoid it, first and foremost on the list being his disastrous end in Portland. Despite their less than stellar playoff potential, Lars liked being on the Crabs. He knew Ryan liked being on the Crabs. Why jeopardize that?
And up until that stupid dinner in Rangoons, Lars could’ve let things be. He would’ve had a crush on a teammate and tried to impress him and hang out with him and leave it at that. He could acknowledge that his attraction was a him-problem, and he’d deal with it because he was a grown-ass man who could handle his shit.
He’d been completely resigned to this…until he’d heard Ryan deem himself not good enough.
“I know I’m not worth the effort.”
Honestly, how dare he?
Lars acknowledged that yes, there was effort involved. The teammate thing made it complicated. He also acknowledged that in some ways, Ryan was right. Lars had looked at the same situation and decided that the risks weren’t worth it. It was Ryan’s phrasing, his internalizing that the problem was in some wayhim, that made Lars completely ready to rethink his priorities.
Ryan and him mutually agreeing that their careers weren’t worth risking: acceptable.
Ryan believing Lars (or anyone else, for that matter) didn’t think he was worth some awkwardness: completely un-fucking-acceptable.
