Page 93 of Drop the Gloves
“Yeah, the last two seasons.It’s weird not seeing him as much this year.”
Riley bit his lip like he wanted to say something, but he shrugged.“Have fun.Maybe I’ll cash that rain check tomorrow in Nevada.”
Evan’s dick perked up at that, a very insistentyes, please!that he tried to reel in.Maybe tomorrow he’d be in a better headspace to fall into Riley’s bed (he really hoped so...), but not tonight.He let Riley walk away and then scanned the crowd as quickly as possible.Avoiding was one thing and lying was another; he needed to find Dalton.
He spotted Dalton at the far end of the lobby and rushed over.“Dalty!Hey, hold up!”
Dalton was about to get on the elevator but stepped away and waved off the guys inside.“What’s up, bro?”
“You busy?”he asked, huffing a little from how fast he’d run to get over here.
Dalton stared at him.“It’s almost midnight, bro.No, I’m not busy.”
“Good.You wanna hang out?”
“Hang out?Abs, there’s no mini-golf open right now.”
“Ha fucking ha,” Evan grumbled.“Do you wanna hang out or not?I’ll buy some beer from the hotel shop if you want me to.”
Dalton looked him over, apparently decided it was worth losing some sleep, and nodded.“Sure.You grab some beers and meet me in my room when you’re ready.I wanna change out of this fucking suit first.”
Evan grabbed the first two beers he could reach in the mini-fridge, stopped by his room to change into sweats and a Riveters tee, then knocked a little too urgently on Dalton’s door.He was in fact still knocking when Dalton opened the door and smacked Evan’s hand away.
“The fuck?Don’t worry.I didn’t fall asleep.”Dalton took one of the beers, opened the door wider, and nodded for Evan to follow.“Take a seat, I guess.Sorry, it’s kind of a mess.I wasn’t planning on having company.”
“No roommate?”Evan asked, startled.Still on his entry contract, Dalton would normally have someone like Winchester or Pope room with him on the road.It was a rare treat during the early years to get a room to yourself.
“Nope,” Dalton said with a grin.
Evan closed the door and sat in the stiff plush chair next to the window, cradling his own unopened beer in his hands.The cold bottle and the condensation were more comforting than the alcohol would be, so he held it tightly.“Sorry.Thanks for humoring me.I know it’s late, and it must be nice to have space to yourself.”
Dalton sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.“Ugh, I’m being a dick.Don’t be sorry.I’m not mad.You don’t usually need to, like, talk, so this must be serious.”He opened his bottle.When it began to fizz, he brought it to his mouth to suck up the overflow.“So what’s up?”he asked as he wiped the edges of his lips with his shirt.
“I—” Evan wasn’t sure where to start.“I’m stressed out and don’t know what to do.”
“Is this about your guy friend?”Dalton asked.
Evan winced.He’d already gotten some support on that front from Dalton before, and Amy’s advice had helped.If he was still having trouble sorting things out, he needed to attack the problem from another angle.
“It’s about Barczyk,” Evan said.
Dalton froze, his face going pale, before he let out a laugh and held his chest.“Jesus, Abs.Sorry, for a second I thought you were saying Barzywasyour guy friend.Fuck, mini-heart attack.”
Evan gave a fake laugh and rolled his eyes.“Yeah, ridiculous, right?”Did he like that it sounded ridiculous that he was having sex with Riley?Not really.Did he like the small amount of privacy it allowed?Kind of.
“But it’s about Barzy...?”Dalton prompted.“Did he say something?I know he’s got a big mouth.He might’ve just been dumb and not realized it.Not that I want to excuse anything if he was being a dick.”Dalton cut himself out, took a deep breath, and said, “I should just let you tell me what he did before I get carried away.”
Without saying it, Evan knew what Dalton was worried about: that Riley had said something homophobic or otherwise insensitive.More importantly, he understood Dalton was ready to help kick Riley’s ass if necessary, which Evan appreciated.He’d get his ass kicked by Riley, but still.Not wanting anyone to get hurt on his behalf, Evan needed to clear the air.
“He hasn’t said anything.It’s nothing about this season,” Evan said.“It’s about last season.”
“Last—?”And then understanding flickered in his eyes.“The thing with your shoulder?What about it?”
“This is going to sound dumb, but uh...”
Evan put his beer on the floor, because there was no way alcohol was going to help.He sucked in a deep breath, held it, and then...unloaded, for a lack of a better word.
“He’s never apologized for it, and I get it.He doesn’t apologize for any of what he does.And this is probably me being overly sensitive that he doesn’t care, but hedoesn’t care.He doesn’t care that he could’ve really hurt me.He doesn’t care that he sent Baptiste to concussion protocol.He doesn’t care about any of it, and I feel kind of like an asshole for being on the ice with him when he does that shit.
