Page 90 of Drop the Gloves
Riley nodded, digging into the plate of nachos.“Glad they’re treating you right.I know a lot of buddies who got drafted and never quite got their feet under them, and sometimes it was because the teams weren’t supportive.”
“You were drafted by the Kings, right?Were they good?”Evan cautiously picked up a chip, one devoid of jalapeños and sauce, just in case.He nibbled a corner, deemed it safe, and ate the rest in one mouthful.It was good.
“They were decent,” Riley said.“Gave me plenty of minutes, considering I was a small rookie with anger issues.”
“Anger issues?”Evan had never considered Riley to be particularly angry.Aggressive, sure, but it didn’t seem malicious.He was relatively level-headed, as far as hockey players went.More than most, even.He lost his cool and yelled at the refs, which Evan wasn’t a huge fan of, but Riley didn’t smash his stick or throw tantrums.
Except he had in Quebec.Was that what he’d been like all the time as a rookie?
“Oh, for sure,” Riley said, chips in each hand as he poked around the plate to find the best ones.“I was a fucking ball of rage that first season.Had something to prove and hated anyone telling me to calm the fuck down.Granted, I needed to, but I wasn’t ready to hear it.Won a Cup that year, which maybe helped me mellow out a bit.Like, hey, look at me, I did it.Only played three minutes in that final game because I was too much of a liability.That, more than anything, calmed me down a bit.I can play the way I play, so long as I’m in control of it.If my emotions take over, I’m not helping anyone, least of all myself.”
“Guess that makes sense,” Evan said.All he could picture was Riley’s snarl after he was pushed onto the Fleur-de-Lis bench and went looking for blood.It was easy to picture a younger version of Riley, less in control of his emotions, going 110% every game.Evan might not always care for that style of play, but he respected how much guts it took to do that game in, game out.And it wasn’t like Evan was the only one who criticized Riley for it: every hockey news circuit complained about him.Riley just didn’t care.
Evan couldn’t relate at all, but he thought he could see the satisfaction of winning the Cup outweighing what others thought.Riley had already achieved The Big Thing, so he could let the criticism slide off of him.
“First season, eh?”Evan asked.
Riley’s eyes lit up.“Did I just get a wild ‘eh’?And yeah, very first season in the league.Part of me was relieved, and part of me was like, what the fuck?Where do I go from here?Turned out the answer was pretty straightforward.”He leaned across the table, so Evan did too.“I do whatever the fuck I want, and as long as I score goals and draw penalties, teams’ll take me anyway.Gotta say, hockey’s a lot more fun when you’re playing for yourself.”
Evan let that settle in.“When is that?”he asked.“When do I get to play for myself?Do I have to win the Cup before people stop getting on my case for not being physical enough?”
“I mean, you don’t have to do that shit.”When Evan gave him a dubious look, Riley held out his hands in a wide shrug.“You don’t.People see how big you are and that you don’t hit, then they see tiny guys like me who do, and they want the best of both worlds.Doesn’t mean you have to do anything.Hell, you play some fine fucking hockey as is.Get some confidence, and no one’ll be able to tell you shit.”
Evan didn’t believe a word of it.He couldn’t, not when all he’d heard this season from coaches was how he needed to improve his game.It wasn’t as though Riley hadn’t been agreeing with them.
“Then why were you giving me fighting lessons?”Evan said, more bite than he’d intended slipping in.He blushed, not just because of his tone, but because they’d done a very good job of pretending the lessons and the orgasms associated with it had never happened.
But as usual, Riley was unfazed.“A little ‘cause I was jealous.If I were as tall as you, I would fucking wreck people.Or maybe I wouldn’t, because I wouldn’t need to.I dunno.And maybe I saw a teammate who could use my help, so I offered it.I didn’t make you take the lessons, and I think we can both agree it’s helped, if only to get your head screwed on right about the whole thing.But you ain’t playing much different than you were at the start of the season.You’re just a little more open to using your size, and that’s made all the difference.”
They were interrupted as the server dropped off their meals.Evan had no idea what he was looking at, but the server said it was the mole poblano.Hungry enough to be curious, he took a bite and hoped for the best.Spicier than he was used to, but not painfully so; he dug in.
“Good, right?”Riley said.“You plan on doing the long haul in Pittsburgh?”
“I hope so,” Evan said.He wanted to say that was the dream, playing out his career for one team, but given who he was talking to, it seemed rude.“I like playing for the Riveters.I like Coach Jack.I like my teammates.I like how close it is to home.”
“It's nice that they almost always make the playoffs,” Riley agreed.“More chances to win the Cup.”He sipped his beer and put it down carefully, with more care than he did anything.It made Evan nervous for a reason he couldn’t name.“Teammates and coaches change all the time.Teams change, y’know?A good vibe can die out when people retire or management changes or just because that’s life.You’d still want to stay in Pittsburgh?”
“I mean...maybe not,” Evan said.The Riveters had been home for the past three years.People had come and gone, but the team had felt more or less the same over that time.The changes were so gradual, it was only looking back that Evan could notice things that were different from when he’d started.But at its core, it had been a good organization to be a part of; that didn’t seem likely to change in one or five or ten years.“I just know I’m happy where I am.If that changes...”He shrugged.“I guess I’ll reassess then.But I’ve got a few more years on my contract and a limited trade clause?—“
“A limited trade clause?Fuck, Abs, they must want you long haul.I’venevergotten a limited trade clause.”
“Have you ever asked for one?”
Riley’s mouth snapped shut.“No,” he gritted out.
“I thought you liked the flexibility of moving around.”Evan could never deal with that level of uncertainty, but spontaneity was Riley’s thing.Where Evan saw security, Riley might feel trapped.
Evan’s stomach lurched.Stupid spicy food.
“I do,” Riley said.“It’s easier not being tied down when things go south.”
Evan sat there, bunching up his napkin on his lap.He wasn’t hungry anymore.In the back of his mind, he’d been trying to find the right time to ask if this was a date; now he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.Either way might be disappointing.
Though as usual, Riley sensed Evan’s distress and bailed him out.They dropped the hockey talk and went into mini-golf, then a detour into pool, and ended the evening with judging what other sports the other would be good at if they’d never played hockey.
“Volleyball,” Riley said.“Tall people play that, right?”
“You’d be great at pickleball,” Evan countered.“Or maybe rugby.”
