Page 2 of Scoring Slater
"They reached out to me too, a few weeks ago."
Slater nearly dropped his phone as he gaped at Noah. "And you didn't say anything to me about it? Why not?"
One shoulder lifted in a single shrug. "Because I told them no. I didn't see the need to mention it after that."
"Dude. Still. We tell each other all kinds of random shit that happens to us."
The tips of his ears reddened. Noah shifted his feet and peered into his mug. "Maybe I was worried you'd try to talk me into it and make me feel bad about saying no."
Surprise spiked faster than the caffeine hit from the dark roasted brew he'd consumed. "Have I ever tried to make you do something you didn't want to do?"
"Dancing at the club on New Year's Eve."
"That's different. That was dancing with me and having fun with our friends, and you ended up having a great time." Slater pushed away the memory with the brush of his hand. Hurt bloomed, surprising him, and anger followed. He was Noah's protector on the ice, a role that had carried off-ice too. Surely, Noah knew him better than that. "I'd never push you with something if you were uncomfortable."
"Yeah well." He wandered to the windowsill, sighed, and then moved back to the chair again. "I gave them a big donation to make up for it."
Slater glanced at the message again, and thought of all of the LGBTQ kids he'd worked with at summer hockey camps for the past few years and all of the people who had reached out to him to share their own stories of coming out. He had a voice and a presence and he intended to use them, but at the same time, he understood why Noah didn't like the spotlight. "I get why you said no, okay? I do. But I think I'll tell them yes."
Noah's gaze snapped to Slater's face. "You're not serious?"
"Why not? It'll be fun and it's for a great cause." He took a deep breath and decided to test the waters. "Who knows, maybe I'll meet someone."
He studied Noah's face, hoping for a reaction. One way or the other.
Noah's brows raised. He set his mug on the sill, ran a hand through his hair, and his gaze flickered with something Slater couldn't name. "Are you looking… Do you want… You really think you'll meet someone through a charity auction?"
"Celek met Victoria at the fundraiser we did for the animal shelter." Slater hooked his thumbs into his pockets and tried to calm his pounding heart. "And three months later, they're still going strong."
Noah's lips flattened into a line. "That's different."
"How? Lots of couples we know met randomly." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
Noah's features darkened into a scowl and Slater could almost see the wheels turning as Noah struggled to come up with a decent argument. There wasn't one.
Huffing out a sigh, Noah leaned against the chair and crossed his arms over his chest, matching Slater's stance. His tattoos, dark and sexy, shifted as his muscles bulged and flexed. "Still. I don't think you should do it."
"Well, I do." He weakened, taking another risk, opening himself up to hope. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't."
Noah's gaze intensified into a blazing blue. His lips pressed together again and a line formed between his brows. Finally, he shifted his scrutiny to the wall behind Slater. "No reason why you shouldn't, Knoxie."
Damn. One word from Noah, one crumb of interest, one syllable, and he would've turned down the auction opportunity.
He pasted on a smile. "Um, great."
"Yeah. Great." Noah pushed away from the chair and picked up his mug. "Listen, I'm heading back to my room."
"We don't have to be on the team bus for another hour."
"I know." He smiled but his eyes didn't crinkle in the corners the way they usually did. "I need to call home anyway. I'll see you downstairs later."
"Wait." Slater moved to block his path. "Are you mad? You seem mad."
"I'm not mad, Knoxie. I'm not anything at all." Noah stepped past him and continued through the room. He didn't look back as he walked out the door.
Slater stood rooted to his spot as the door closed. What the hell? Noah was angry, or something else if angry didn't fit, but he wasn't fine. He knew his friend well enough to know a lie when he heard one. Maybe he could have worded things better. Maybe it didn't matter at all.
He settled on the bed with his phone and his mug of coffee and a head filled with confusion. The rustled, rattled feeling was as uncomfortable as the aches in his body. He hated when he and Noah were at odds.
