Page 28 of Drop the Gloves
“Maaaybe.”Riley batted his eyelashes.“You defending my honor, Abs?”
Abernathy blushed.He did that a lot around Riley, though Riley couldn’t figure out why.At first, he’d assumed it was because Abernathy was starstruck or annoyed by Riley, then he learned the guy was a little shy and figured it was because he was a bit awkward when put on the spot.There were other options, of course, but Riley didn’t think they were very likely.Good Canadian boys tended not to be interested in the loud-mouthed American.Not in Riley’s experience, anyway.
“Not a chance,” Abernathy said.“I can’t take on the whole league for one guy.”He took off a glove and leaned over to offer Riley his hand.
Riley let himself be pulled up.“What’s the damage?”He worked his jaw and felt his lip for blood.
“You’re as ugly as when you started,” Abernathy said and patted Riley’s helmet like he was a little kid.Granted, the height difference was comical sometimes.Riley let it go, because it didn’t feel condescending like when Abernathy did it.It’d bugged the hell out of him when it’d been guys like Bates.“No harm done.”
“Good.”Riley rubbed at his jaw one last time—it would be sore for a few days, ugh—then grinned and poked his tongue through the hole where he’d lost a tooth years ago.“My ma would kill me if I lost another tooth.”
Abernathy raised an eyebrow.“I’m shocked you’ve only lost the one.”
“Samesies.Oh!”He looked around the ice, spotted his missing mouthguard, and swiped it before heading back to the bench.
“You’re disgusting, you know that?”Abernathy said.He wrinkled his nose as Riley stuffed it back into his mouth.
“Builds the immune system,” he said, words muffled by the mouthguard.Part of why he rarely wore it: it made it too hard for other people to understand when he chirped them.“It’s why I never get sick.”
“Still gross,” Abernathy said, so quiet he probably didn’t think Riley could hear him.It was cute.
…shit.As they sat down together on the bench to watch the Riveters’ power play line get to work, Riley side-eyed Abernathy.Yep, Riley definitely still thought Abernathy was cute.He turned back to the ice and tried to get his head back in the game, all while wondering how long it would take to get over this stupid crush.
14
They returnedto Pittsburgh five days later.They got a win in Vermont, then lost in overtime to the Buffalo Bears.Instead of focusing on the team’s small jump in the standings, all Evan could think about was stupid Riley Barczyk’s invitation to his apartment gym.
When it had been Future Evan’s problem, days away and not quite real, he’d been able to ignore it.Now he was stuck next to Barczyk on a plane (again), forced to pick a day that worked for him (was never an option?).
“I can’t do Wednesday,” Barczyk muttered as he scrolled through his phone.He was wearing a hoodie over his button-down shirt and chewing the end of one string.Could that man go a day without chewing on something?Maybe if Evan got him a pack of gum, half his anger problems would go away.“Sophia’s got an appointment with the groomer.Lemme check the rest of the week…”
Knowing he had about a minute before Barczyk just picked a day and time for them, Evan needed to act.This was his chance to decline the offer once and for all, but what he said instead was: “Couldn’t we just use the team gym after practice Tuesday?”
Barczyk didn’t argue with the venue change, just flipped his calendar back a few days.“Yeah, that’ll work.We can meet up with Dalty, S’more, and Vassy for drinks after at that new place.You’re going to that, right?”
Shit.He’d forgotten about whatever new bar Dalton had found out about and insisted a bunch of them go to.The whole point of practicing at a neutral location was so there was no risk or expectation to hang out after.At least the bar wasn’t going to be weirdly intimate like Barczyk’s apartment.As a bonus, there’d be other people there to defuse the one-sided tension that was making Evan act like an idiot.
“Yeah.”He gulped.“I’m going.”
“Cool, that settles it.We can practice and then head over.”Barczyk added a calendar event that read ‘Abs,’ then looked up at Evan with a lopsided grin, that stupid sweatshirt string still in his mouth.“We’ll have you in fighting form by Thanksgiving.”
“It was Thanksgiving last week,” he said automatically.He’d had a video chat with his mom, which had become their tradition years ago when he'd moved to live with his first billet team out in Ottawa.Nothing like a turkey breast sandwich, boxed stuffing, and canned cranberries while hundreds of miles away from family to hit home he needed to be thankful for all the times they could share holidays together.
Barczyk made a pinched face, squinting at Evan like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to contradict Evan or let it slide.Apparently he couldn’t be bothered, because he shrugged and said, “Right.So by the end of November, you should be ready to graduate from the Barczyk School of Kicking Ass and Taking Names.”
“Is there a diploma that comes with that?”Evan asked.
“I can maybe hook you up with a certificate,” Barczyk said.“But I can’t sign it until after you win a fight.”
“Sounds like you won’t be signing it,” he grumbled.He saw Barczyk about to argue, so he said, “You’re teaching me as insurance in case I get in a fight again.I’m not trying to pick fights.”
“Aww, you’re no fun, Abs.You’d be a real contender if you wanted to be.I mean, if I can hold my own”—he pointed to his chest, but all Evan noticed was that even sitting, he had to look down farther than usual—“then the sky’s the limit for a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?”
“Yeah.A Canadian giant.What, you part sasquatch?”
Even with teammates, Barczyk couldn’t shut up.
