Page 103 of Drop the Gloves
Vassiliev gave his shoulder one more squeeze before he let go.“Be careful,” he teased.“If Barzy will kiss you for that, imagine what he would do to you in a game that matters.”
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Evan thoughtthat game was the breakthrough that would get Riley talking to him.If Riley would kiss him in front of tens of thousands of people—even if only on the cheek—then he must be willing to talk to Evan again.
Not so much, apparently.
Instead of being a big momentum shift towards fixing things, it was a tiny nudge.Riley continued not to initiate any conversations with Evan during team time...but he didn’t resist when Evan talked to him.He stopped finding excuses to get out of Evan’s group during drills, and he would allow himself to be within ten feet of him at the gym.So, progress, right?
And at games, though, it was almost like a time machine.There were still no pre-game butt whacks, but once the puck dropped and the crowd was roaring, once their adrenaline was going and there was no time to think, then it was like things were before.
When Evan scored against the Prowlers, Riley’s eyes lit up, and he tackled Evan the same way he always had.When Evan got some Penalty Kill time two games in a row, it was Riley he heard on the bench more than everyone else, shouting encouragement.And if someone gave Evan trouble, either physically or running his mouth, there was Riley to put him in his place.
I’m not fighting anymore battles for you,Evan heard clearly every time Riley pushed or chirped someone on his behalf.Evan felt like a burden at those times, because Riley still had to look out for him when he’d made it clear he didn’t want to.So he tried to play that physical game the coaches wanted from him, if only to spare Riley having to babysit him.
But going from the arena where he felt at any moment Riley might pull him in for another kiss on the cheek, to the locker room where Riley seemed to forget Evan was there, gave him emotional whiplash.Instead of soothing him with the possibility of how things could be again, it taunted him that it might be over.
He told himself to keep giving Riley his space, but every time he heard Riley’s laugh, it killed him to see he was still being kept at arm’s length.His laugh, his smile, they weren’t for Evan.There was no secret keeping them tied together, one that promised if they could just get through this practice or that game or these team activities, they’d get those stolen moments together where Riley was all his.
And then, as they finished up their December homestand and were days away from traveling again, Evan began to worry: how long was too long to give Riley the space he wanted?Was Evan risking any hope of fixing things by waiting?Fuck.He needed to get Riley alone just so he could say sorry.That was the first step, apologizing for holding onto that stupid shoulder thing and not talking it out sooner.
It was impossible.Riley would let Evan talk, but only in the very public places where it couldn’t get too serious.There was no privacy at the training facility and definitely none on the bench.There was nowhere Riley allowed him to be that was an acceptable place to say any of the things that needed to be said.
One night in his condo, Evan grabbed his notepad again in frustration.He vented for a full page about how much he’d fucked up and how lonely he was.It stopped making sense at the end, so he tore the page off and crumpled it into a ball.
“Not productive,” he grumbled as he tossed it across the room.
For the millionth time, he took out his phone and stared at his recent text messages to Riley.
Abernathy
Hey can we talk?
Do you wanna go grab a beer or a milkshake?
Nice goals tonight
You going to Lawson’s holiday party next weekend?
You okay after that fight?Looked like you took a bad one at the end
Going to the bar with Dalty, Winnie, and Daniels...
None of these messages had been met with any response.He couldn’t even tell if Riley had read all of them.As much as Evan wanted to talk to Riley, texting was like shouting into the void.Baring his heart on a string of text messages...no thanks.He turned off his phone and put it aside to avoid the temptation of scrolling back through their older messages.
He sat there on his couch, head in his hands as he leaned forward to stare into space.He fucking hated this.
The notepad caught his eye again, the jagged edge where he’d ripped a page bugging him.He picked up the pad and tore off the leftover pieces from earlier.Then, without thinking about it, he picked up his pen and started writing.
Riley,
I’m sorry.You’re right, I should’ve said something.I was holding onto that hit way too long and holding it against you when I shouldn’t have.It was messed up that I never said anything while we were...Well, I should’ve either buried it months ago or told you.I’m sorry.
- E.A.
P.S.I miss you.
Very carefully, he folded the top of the page before gently tearing it out.He made it look as innocent as possible as he folded it into a square, writing RILEY on the outside.Evan left it by his wallet and keys so he wouldn’t forget it.The next day at practice, he found a chance to tuck it into Riley’s jacket pocket.There were a few other people in the locker room when he did it—on a gym day, there wasn’t much hope of avoiding that—but no one was near their stalls and, more importantly, Riley was busy on the squat rack.He put the note next to Riley’s keys, so he’d have to find it, then sneaked back to the treadmills.
