by Rachel Reid
“Do you get in fights off the ice?”
“No. I’ve broken up a few in my life. Bars, parties, that sort of thing. But I don’t fight people when I’m not being paid to do it, no. I’ve never wanted to either.”
“You must be good at it, if you’ve made a career of it.”
Ryan shrugged. “Yeah. I’m good at it. About the only thing I am good at.”
They sat in silence for a minute. Ryan finished his drink and then figured he should probably leave. He was about to say so when Fabian asked him, “You said you’re going to the grocery store?”
“Yeah. Thought I’d pick up something from the frozen aisle for dinner.”
“That does sound incredible, but have you ever been to the ramen place on the corner here?”
“No.”
Fabian leaned in. “Wanna go?”
“Now? With you?”
“Yes. I’m starving. Sometimes I get lost in writing and I forget to eat. I realize that makes me sound like a moron.”
Ryan was pretty sure he had never forgotten to eat in his entire life. “No. It doesn’t.”
“So you want to go?”
“Uh...”
“I said I’d show you the neighborhood.” Fabian stood up and shoved his papers into his bag. “We can start with ramen.”
Ryan grinned. He really liked this idea. He liked anything that gave him a chance to be around Fabian. He was...comforting. “Okay.”
* * *
It wasn’t until they were seated at an intimate table in the corner of the ramen restaurant that Fabian realized he may have just invited Ryan on a date. Or, at least, what Ryan might perceive to be a date. In truth, Fabian had just wanted ramen and conversation.
And, yes. He liked looking at Ryan.
Ryan, who was studying his menu as if there would be a test on it, wasn’t looking at Fabian. Even at the coffee shop, Ryan had seemed tired. Or stressed, maybe. Now he seemed like he was already regretting his decision to follow Fabian to a second location.
“Hey,” Fabian said gently, as if Ryan might spook if his voice were too loud. “If you don’t want to eat here, I won’t be offended. It was just a suggestion.”
Ryan finally looked up from his menu. “No! No, it’s fine. I just...what do you usually order here?”
“I always get the Tonkotsu ramen because the broth takes forever to make. Like, I’d never boil bones for hours at home. And it’s delicious.”
Ryan closed his menu. “Okay.”
“But,” Fabian said quickly, “they have lots of stuff. Some of the ramen has beef, or seafood, or some have spicy broth, if you prefer.”
“The first one you said is fine.”
They sat in silence for a moment, and then Ryan started drumming his fingers on the table. He stopped when the server came to take their orders. Fabian ordered first, and then Ryan grunted, “I’ll have the same.”
As soon as the server left, Ryan returned to drumming his fingers. Finally Fabian asked, “Are you all right?”
The drumming stopped, and Ryan moved his hand off the table, into his lap. “Sorry.”
“You seem nervous about something. I hope it isn’t me.”
Ryan grimaced. “No. I have to get on a plane tomorrow. That’s all.”
Fabian was surprised. “Don’t you have to get on a plane, like, every day?”
“Pretty often, yeah. You’d think I might have relaxed about it by now.”
“You’re scared of flying?”
Ryan nodded. “Always have been. I hoped I’d get over it, but...”
“So you fly like a zillion times a year, and every time you’re terrified?”
Ryan nudged his chopstick holder with his finger. “Yep.”
Fabian wanted to reach out and place a hand on Ryan’s arm, or maybe find his hand under the table. He did neither. “God, that sucks.”
“It’s stupid, I know. There’s no reason for me to be...like this. But I can’t help it.”
“Is there anything you can take for it? Or have you tried, like, hypnotism?” Fabian cringed inwardly. He really had no idea what he was talking about.
But Ryan nodded. “I’ve tried just about everything. It’s not only flying. I’m...” He seemed to consider his next words very carefully, but before he could say them their server returned with glasses of water for each of them. By the time the server left, Ryan apparently decided to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell me about your favorite bars here in the Village?”
Fabian was disappointed, but he could be a distraction, if that’s what Ryan needed. He launched into an animated and probably overly detailed description of the types of men Ryan would be likely to meet at each bar.
The conversation continued until their food arrived and beyond. He discovered, as he was telling Ryan about one of the pubs that usually showed hockey on the big screens, he didn’t particularly like the idea of Ryan hooking up with other men. But that was ridiculous.
He soldiered on. “So if you’re looking for older guys, or guys who are kind of more,” he waved his hand in Ryan’s direction, “masc, or whatever, that’s a good place to go.”
Ryan sucked a tangle of noodles into his mouth and then said, “A chill vibe is good. But those guys aren’t really my type.”
Fabian’s eyebrows shot up.
“Not that it even matters,” Ryan said quickly. “I don’t really pick up. At all.”
“Wait. Never?”
Ryan poked at something in his bowl with his chopsticks. “Not for a while, no.”
Fabian was intrigued. “Are you, like, not into casual sex? Or sex at all? It’s cool if you aren’t. I have friends who—”
“I like sex,” Ryan said, this time looking Fabian right in the eyes. There was an intensity there that made his stomach flip.
“Oh. So...”
“I’m just bad at talking to people.”
Fabian nudged Ryan’s foot under the table. “You don’t seem so bad to me. I like talking to you. If this were a date I’d say it was going very well.”
Ryan looked back at his soup. “Thanks.”
They ate in silence for a bit, and Fabian used to time to consider the new information he had gathered from Ryan. He liked sex but didn’t have it very often, he didn’t go out much, and he maybe didn’t like traditionally masc guys? That would actually make sense, given the way Ryan had obviously appreciated Fabian’s flamboyant stage outfit the other night.
Fabian didn’t have any particular type. It was actually wild to think that, just over a week ago, he had woken up with Claude in his bed. And now he was having dinner with a man who was the opposite of Claude in almost every way. Fabian found both men attractive, but he almost certainly had more in common with Claude. In theory, Fabian really shouldn’t have much to say to Ryan.
“Do you like to dance?” Fabian asked.
“Sort of. I’m not good at it, and I usually feel stupid doing it, but I like it sometimes.”
“My friends are going out to celebrate Tarek’s birthday in a couple of weeks. It will be fun. You should come.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Me?”
“Yeah!” This wasn’t a terrible idea, was it? “We’re going to Force, which is the biggest gay nightclub around. It’s very loud and busy, but you are guaranteed to see hot men in every flavor. And if you don’t want to dance, that’s cool, but you should come.”
“Um. Maybe.”
“I’ll remind you closer to the date. I haven’t been to Force in ages. I’m excited.”
“I’ll bet you’re a good dancer,” Ryan said.
“Oh god, I’m the best. Totally amazing. Just wait.”
Ryan laughed. “I’ve always admired your confidence.”
“Really? Even when I was a grumpy teenage shit?”
“Yes,” Ryan said earnestly.
“Even then.”
“Huh.” Fabian was honestly pretty touched by Ryan’s words. He hadn’t thought of himself as particularly admirable when he’d been a teen.
“Are you supposed to eat everything in the bowl?” Ryan asked. It was a clear attempt to change the subject. “I still have a lot of corn left.”
“I think only the most hardcore ramen eaters clean the bowl,” Fabian said. “So what do you have planned for this evening?”
Ryan set his chopsticks on the table and pushed the bowl away. “Go home. Rest up for tomorrow.”
“Are you actually going to rest, or are you going to start worrying about your flight the moment you’re alone?”
Ryan sighed. “Probably that second thing.”
“Well then...” Fabian leaned in. “How about I distract you some more?”
Okay. He could admit that was just blatantly flirtatious, but he wasn’t actually suggesting anything...untoward.
Ryan’s mouth hung open for a second, and then he said, “Distract me how?”
“Well, we could walk off this ramen. I could show you the neighborhood. You probably don’t get enough exercise, right?” Fabian teased. He had no idea why he was doing this. He should let Ryan get back to his own life, and Fabian should go home and figure out these songs. He had already taken up far too much of Ryan’s time.
“Sure,” Ryan said, lips curving into one of his adorable shy smiles. “A walk sounds good.”
* * *
The sun was low in the sky when Ryan and Fabian left the restaurant. They walked north, up Church Street together, both with their hands in their coat pockets. Ryan knew this thing wasn’t a date, but if it was it would be the best one he’d ever been on.
“How’s your family?” he asked. “God, Amy must be grown up now.”
“She’s eighteen,” Fabian confirmed. “Just started university.”
“That’s wild,” Ryan said. “I can only picture her as a five-year-old. How about Sonia?” Fabian’s older sister had been the hockey star of the family. She hadn’t been living at home when Ryan had been there, but she’d joined the family for dinners, and came by the house to do her laundry sometimes. Most people would say that she and Fabian were total opposites, but Ryan thought they were actually pretty similar, just into different things. Both were confident, opinionated, and extremely talented. Unfortunately for Fabian, Sonia was the one whose talents were celebrated in the Salah household.
“Are you ready for this? Sonia is married and pregnant.”
“Wow, really?”
“Yep. She announced it last month. She’s also a hockey coach now, which is kind of badass: a pregnant woman behind the bench.”
Ryan smiled at that. It did sound pretty awesome. And he could imagine Sonia daring anyone to suggest she shouldn’t be there. “That’s cool. What about your parents?”
“They’re fine. Dad is still coaching. Mom is still working. I don’t talk to them very often. There’s no rift or anything. We just...don’t have that much to say to each other, I guess.”
Ryan wasn’t surprised by this. Joe and Maya Salah had always seemed a little bewildered by their only son. Ryan was sure that they had expected to be raising a future NHL star and instead had gotten...Fabian.
“Are your parents cool?” Fabian asked. “Do you get along with them, I mean? I’ve never met them.”
“They’re great,” Ryan said sincerely. “I don’t get home as much as they’d like, but we talk all the time.”
“That’s good. Do they know you’re gay, then?”
“Yeah, they know. I think they were pretty surprised when I told them, but they were good with it. I mean, Dad never says much, but...”
“Are you telling me your father is a quiet man, Ryan? I’m shocked.”
Ryan laughed. “Dad makes me seem chatty. Colleen, my sister, was maybe too excited. It’s like having a gay brother is the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to her or something.”
“That’s kind of sweet, though, I guess,” Fabian said. “Was your dad a hockey player too?”
“No. He played a bit, I think, but he was a boxer. A good one. One of the top-ranked boxers in Canada back in his day. He has a little gym back in Ross Harbour where he teaches kids.”
“Is that where you learned how to fight?”
Ryan shrugged. “He taught me the basics. My heart was never really in it, and I think he knew it. The skills have come in handy, though.”
They were silent a moment, and then Fabian said, “I’m going home for Christmas this year. I don’t always, but I thought with the pregnancy and all, I should probably go.”
“I don’t usually make it home for Christmas,” Ryan said. “I feel bad about it, but it’s a lot of travel for two days, y’know?”
“Especially when you hate flying.”
“Yeah.” Ryan didn’t want to talk about flying. At the moment, he was the most at ease he’d ever been the evening before a flight. He wanted to keep it that way. “So where are you taking me?”
“What do you want to see? There’s a cool bookstore on the next block, and a record store. On the next block there’s a great little cocktail bar, not that I am trying to be a bad influence.”
Ryan chuckled. “I do have to play a game tomorrow night.”
“Next time.”
He liked the sound of next time. “For sure. How about we check out the bookstore?”
Fabian grinned at him. “I forgot that you’re a book lover. You’ll love this place. It focuses on queer lit and political nonfic, but they have a bit of everything. And the staff is super awesome. I should take you to Vanessa’s store sometime. It’s closed now, but it’s rad.”
“Is it a bookstore too?”
“They do have books, but it’s mostly a sex shop. But, like, a very sex-positive, queer-positive one. Vanessa has been working there for years. I think people think she owns it.”
“Oh.” Ryan had spent very little time in sex shops. None, actually. The only toy he’d ever owned had been purchased online, and he’d always bought the rest of his supplies at drugstores.
“They’ve got everything. Talk to Vanessa. She’ll hook you up with whatever you need,” Fabian said casually, as if he were talking about a sporting goods store. Ryan would definitely not be asking Vanessa to hook him up. “Here’s the bookstore.”
They spent a half hour or so looking around the store, which seemed to double as a community space for speakers and workshops. There were posters throughout the store that listed upcoming events. Ryan liked it, and he planned to come back again sometime soon.
After that they strolled to the northern most corner of the Village, crossed the street, and walked back down toward Ryan’s apartment building. Fabian pointed out the bars, shops, and restaurants that he liked as they walked and talked. It was one of the most enjoyable evenings Ryan had ever experienced. When they reached Ryan’s building he felt an inappropriate urge to kiss Fabian good night. Or invite him up.
“So hockey is paying you okay, then?” Fabian asked wryly as he glanced up at the gleaming tower where Ryan lived.
“Pays all right,” Ryan muttered, embarrassed. In a perfect world Fabian would be making at least as much money playing music as Ryan did playing hockey.
“I liked this,” Fabian said. “I’m glad we reconnected.”
“Me too,” Ryan said. God, Fabian’s lashes were long. Makeup or no makeup, he was gorgeous.
“You know,” Fabian said, and his lips curved into the playful, seductive smile that both thrilled and terrified Ryan, “of all the hockey players who lived with us, you were my favorite.”
Ryan snorted. “I was the best of the worst, was I?”
“Oh yes. By far.”
“I liked living with your family. With...you.”
“Did you?” Fabian was so close to him
, Ryan worried he would be able to hear the hammering of his heart. “When are you back in town?”
“Next Friday. I play a game on Saturday night.”
“There’s an open mic on Mondays at the Indigo Café—I pointed it out to you on our walk—and I’m planning on playing it that Monday after you’re back. I want to work out some of these new songs.”
“Are you inviting me?”
The playful smile returned. “I am casually dropping that information in the hopes that you will come. I couldn’t possibly invite you to watch me fumble my way through some new material. That would be rude.”
Ryan laughed. “I’ll be there.”
“I won’t be offended if you change your mind.”
And then Fabian stretched up and kissed Ryan on the cheek. Ryan was caught so off guard by it that he just stood there stiffly, barely registering what was happening until it was over. “Good night, Ryan.”
Fabian turned and walked away so quickly that Ryan could only mumble “good night” to his retreating back as he brushed his fingers against the spot where Fabian had kissed him.
Chapter Ten
There were two interesting things about the game in Ottawa. One was that Coach Cooper had announced that Wyatt would be in nets because the Guardians’ star goalie, Anders Nilsson, needed a rest, and, frankly, Ottawa had a terrible team. Coach had, in fact, described the Ottawa team’s abilities using some very vulgar and homophobic language that Ryan was trying not to dwell on.
The other interesting thing was that this was the first time Toronto had played against Ottawa since the former Boston superstar, Ilya Rozanov, had signed with them over the summer.
The first period had barely made it to the five-minute mark when Rozanov started getting into it with Dallas Kent. Both players were known for their trash talk as much as their goal scoring ability, but neither of them was much good at finishing what they started. That was Ryan’s job.
Rozanov had just very obviously shoved Kent during a stoppage in play. The officials either hadn’t seen it, or were choosing to ignore it. Ryan skated over to where the two superstars were shouting at each other and very halfheartedly pulled Rozanov away from Kent.
