Page 20 of Scoring Slater
"Where's Noah?"
He'd gotten that question so many times from so many people in the past two days. "I don't know. We had a fight." He bit his lip, gaze darting from the entrance to the stage. The auction was moments from starting. Unfamiliar insecurity unfurled like fog overtaking a city. "Hey, promise me that if no one bids on me, you will?"
"I don't think that'll be a problem, but yeah, I promise."
"Thanks, man." He could count on Isaiah. Pulling out his phone, he put an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Say cheese."
Isaiah's dad, Booker Blake, one of the game's greats, and emcee for the auction walked onstage and straight to the podium. "Bachelors, if we can have you backstage, and if everyone else can find their seats, we'll be starting soon."
Slater pocketed his phone. "Gotta go. Remember to bid on me if no one else does."
"I got ya. We'll talk after the auction." Isaiah pointed to where his cameraman stood near the exit. After a fist bump, Slater took off for the stage.
He swiped another glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. Backstage was a zoo. He checked in with one of the auction's coordinators. Going later in the auction meant he had plenty of time to wait around, chat with the other bachelors, trade stories, and get to know some of the guys better. It also meant he wouldn't be missed for a while.
Ducking out to the edge of the stage, he slipped out his phone and live-streamed his view of the white and gold decorated room. Tons of people, easily over two hundred were packed in the space.
When the event started and Booker brought the first bachelor on stage, he found a quiet corner off to the side out of everyone's way, sat, and switched to selfie mode to better chat with his fans. "Hey guys, I'm here at the Hockey Allies bachelor auction. We're backstage and I have some time so let's check in. What're you up to this weekend? Have any questions for me?"
Hearts and comments popped up at the bottom of his screen, including one from Leo.Good luck, your date better treat you right or they'll answer to me. :-)
Slater answered questions about the weekend, about what the other players were like, and ignored the ones about Noah, until a few people asked why he hadn't posted any pictures of them together. How was he supposed to answer when he couldn't wrap his head around how to handle that? "Guys, I don't know what Noah has going on tonight. Did you watch the skills competition? He did awesome in the hardest shot competition. He's probably out celebrating. I'll see him tomorrow at the game."
Voices raised in anger came from somewhere to his right. Time to end the video. "I'm due on stage soon, so I have to go. Talk to you later."
When he returned to the spot where the remaining bachelors waited, he caught murmurs of an altercation involving Layne Coleman and someone wearing a Jackals jersey. Layne had apparently pulled out of the auction too, and one of the auction's coordinators was scrambling to find a last-minute replacement. Slater had only talked to him briefly over the past two days. Hopefully, everything was okay.
One of the coordinator's stopped him. "Everyone's time slot shifted forward. Kyle Pressgrove is onstage. You're up next."
He nodded and wiped damp palms on his jeans. Now that the moment was almost upon him, nerves took over, needling his stomach. "I'm ready."
"Remember to set your phone on silent. We don't want an ill-timed phone call to interrupt the bidding."
"Ah, sure." That seemed a little extreme. A bachelor getting a phone call while on stage had the potential to be funny. Booker would make sure of it. But Slater didn't want to create any extra headaches for the auction team, so he complied and set his phone on silent.
As he watched the bidding war over Kyle, he thought back to the conversation he and Noah first had about the auction. What would he have done if both he and Noah had been participants? He didn't think he could've stood by and watched another man bid on Noah, not without doing something insane like insisting on accompanying them on the date and then doing whatever he could to make the other guy go away.
"Going once… going twice… sold."
Shaking away his musing, he focused again on the stage. Kyle announced that he would match his bidder's price and donate it to the charity. Applause erupted around the room.
That was a great idea. Slater vowed to do the same. He high-fived Kyle as the man passed by.
"Up next, we have Slater Knox of the Buffalo Bedlam."
Ready or not… Slater drew in a deep breath. Phone in hand, he stepped onstage.
CHAPTER EIGHT
"I'll have another." Noah signaled to the bartender with his empty shot glass. He traced the woodgrain of the scarred bar, and looked up as a group of guys at the other end of the bar cheered and raised their glasses, their focus on one of the TVs above the bar. Three of the TVs showed a replay of a soccer match, a boxing match played on the other two. No hockey in here.
The crowded Irish pub reminded him of the one back in Buffalo that he and Slater had gone to on the previous Saint Patrick's Day, when Noah's team had been in town to play the Bedlam. They'd drunk green beer and laughed so much they ended up falling into each other, and that had knocked Slater off of his barstool, which made them laugh even harder.
Back then, he'd have given anything to be able to hang out with his friend on a regular basis. He had that now. But for how long?
He didn't think they could ever go back to the way things had been. Not after that night filled with kisses. Not after his admission.
He'd created a fracture. A crack that would always be there, even if they tried to fill it in. Deep in his bones, he knew it.
