Page 9 of The Trade Deadline
“Is it? Shit. Time flies.” As lucky as Ryan had it playing in the NHL and making a decent salary, Tanner had it better. He’d created some app while he was still in high school, sold it to the highest bidder, and had retired to a life of video games and weed at the ripe old age of nineteen. He was twenty-three now, well set in his ways. Which included being chronically unaware of the passage of time. “Hey, you’re usually too busy to come chill when you're training. What’s up?”
“So remember how I mentioned that time in Switzerland?”
“With the hot blond guy?” Tanner tumbled back into his blankets and reached under the couch to grab a bong. “ ‘course I remember.”
“Well, turns out we’re going to be teammates.”
Tanner had just taken a hit and immediately started coughing. “Shit,” he managed between gasps. “For real?”
“For real,” he confirmed and let his head fall back against the couch. He stared up at the ceiling.
“You think it’s gonna be weird? Like, what if he’s still into you? Or you find out you’re still into him?”
Among other worries. “We work together. It could get really awkward, and I don’t want one night from seven or whatever years ago to jeopardize my job here.”
“That stinks. What are you gonna do about it?”
Ryan turned to Tanner, looking incredibly sympathetic but also ridiculous in his Captain Crunch t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. Unfortunately for Ryan, there was no one more put together or adult to talk to about this.
“Nothing. What’s there to do? I don’t want to talk to him about it, because that’ll make it weird for sure.”
“For sure,” Tanner agreed. He took another hit from his bong as he considered Ryan’s predicament, then he lit up. “I know! You should get laid preemptively so you’re not all wound up when he gets here.”
Not a bad idea, except?—
“I don’t do hookups in town.” He’d learned years ago that while he was attracted to women, he preferred men. Sleeping with men was…challenging. There wouldn’t be any issues with the Blue Crabs—there never had been before—but he wouldn’t be in Baltimore forever and some clubs were weird about that. Even if he stuck to women, it got messy too close to home. The anonymity of being out of town was the only way he felt comfortable approaching anyone.
Tanner wilted. “Shit, I forgot. Unless you wanna take a road trip up to Philly or?—?”
“No. Bad timing.” The only thing worse than being there when Lars showed up was not being there. Plus he had to train; he’d let himself get too lazy over the summer. “Sorry, but thanks for trying.”
“Well…” Tanner floundered for a moment. “You’ve seen him since then, right? It shouldn’t be too bad.”
Ryan grimaced. “Sort of. We’ve crossed paths a few times during games. We’re both centers so sometimes I go against him in the face-off.”
Lars had never spoken to him, so locked into the game that he seemed to be oblivious to the other team. At first Ryan had waited for them to make eye contact and…something. A wink? A shared smile? A joke about Geneva? He hadn’t really thought it through on his end, and kinda hoped Lars would take over. It was a half dozen games before he picked up that Lars legitimately didn’t care who was playing against most of the time. Every face-off, he never took his eyes off the puck.
Probably why Ryan had lost a lot of those face-offs; he’d been too busy staring at Lars.
“And he hasn’t said anything before?”
“Nope.” He let the word pop as it left his mouth. It didn’t do much to make him feel better, but it felt nice.
“That’s great!”
“It is?” Ryan frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“You’re worried it’s gonna be weird, but the guy has already proven he’s chill about it. So no problemo, you just follow his lead. Do the hockey things.”
Tanner Greenwood has attended exactly one hockey game in his life, and that was when Ryan first moved in. Ryan was trying to make a friend and Tanner was attempting to be supportive. Turns out he knew absolutely nothing about hockey, nor did he seem inclined to change that. But hewasthe biggest Ryan Russell fan outside of his home state of Montana. Ryan appreciated the enthusiasm.
“I’ll do the hockey things,” he said. No specifics needed. “But what if?—?”
“No, dude. No what if’s. Just do your thing. You’re both the same hockey thing, right?”
This was actually an issue that Ryan was avoiding at the moment: one more center meant someone got pushed out of the lineup. Probably one of the younger players on a 2-way contract with the AHL farm team, which would suck. There was some hope, since their previous first line center had retired, but still, it put more pressure on Ryan to play well so that he kept his spot on the team over one of their up-and-coming draft picks. Someone equal to Lars’s talent.
When he joined the league, Ryan had been that up-and-comer who’d been overlooked and pushed out; he knew firsthand it was a shitty position to be in.
