Page 19 of The Best Parts of Him
Ryland had watched the Stanley Cup Finals last month when they’d aired, and he’d rewatched them over the past couple of days with a new perspective. Watching the Trailblazers dominate the finals was like watching a choreographed dance. If one knew to look for it, it was obvious that the players had put a lot of time into building their interrelationships.
Ryland didn’t want the Pilots to be the Trailblazers—but they could certainly learn from them.
A shadow fell over him, followed by his best friend frowning down at him.
“What are you doing?” Denver asked.
“Brainstorming ideas for how to bring my team closer together. What are you doing?”
“I was just chatting with Jason about the New Hampshire markets he’d like me to cover this month.” Denver lay down beside him. “Want to come? It’ll be less boring with you there.”
“Yeah. Let me know what dates.”
“So,” Denver drawled out the word and nudged him with his elbow. “Saw you with Kyle Dabbs at The Striped Maple last week.”
“I figured.” Ryland turned his head to look at him. “You didn’t come say hi.”
“I didn’t think you’d thank me for interrupting your flirt-on.”
Ryland laughed.
Dabbs had left on the Fourth, after the two them, Jason, and Bellamy had grabbed lunch from one of the vendors at Frozen Fest, which they’d done after Ryland had tracked down the grossest ice cream flavor he could find for Dabbs to try.
Macaroni and cheese.
Ryland still wished he could un-taste that.
But although Dabbs had left, Bellamy had stayed behind. With Dabbs heading to his hometown this week to visit his family, that would leave Bellamy alone in the townhouse they shared. So he and Jason were driving to Burlington later this week to play house.
“Did I tell you me and Dabbs shared a bed the night of the campout?” Ryland told Denver.
“You shared a tent?”
“No, a bed.”
Ryland told him how they’d ended up there—leaving out the conversation about his parents’ divorce and Dabbs’ dad—finishing with, “I woke up snuggled up to his back, but I didn’t do it on purpose.”
Very sarcastically, Denver said, “Uh-huh.”
“I swear. Turns out he’s a cover hog. I guess I was cold during the night and he was the only source of heat.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Dabbs had felt so good against him. Hot and smooth and hard, his back rising and falling steadily with his every breath. Ryland had awoken only a few minutes before him, and he hadn’t moved away because . . .
Well, he hadn’t wanted to. Sue him.
The clouds drifted above as Ryland thought about everything Dabbs had told him while he’d been visiting. Dabbs valued his private life, which Ryland could respect. Hell, he still felt bad about including him in his Instagram live at the festival.
It must’ve reminded Dabbs about his childhood and about that friend who’d told their classmates about his dad. Being the subject of gossip, especially as a kid, could be traumatizing. And there Ryland had been, cheerily including Dabbs in his livestream without his consent because he was so goddamn happy that Dabbs was there at all—putting Dabbs front and center to potentially have his private life gossiped about.
Dabbs had been understanding about it, but . . .
Ugh. Ryland had handed him a stupid crocheted ice cream cone named Shannon while Dabbs must’ve been fuming inside.
Dabbs had said they were too different to make a relationship work, and although Ryland had been determined to prove him wrong . . .
