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CHAPTER SEVEN

RYAN WOULDN’T SAY he knows Louie, but since he didn’t die on the spot when Ryan came out to him, he’s fairly confident things will work out. They can’t move into the house until Ryan’s deposit check clears, so they go their separate ways on Sunday.

Louie makes the lineup on Monday and it’s the first time Ryan sees a real smile on his face.

He plays a good game but doesn’t score. Gets an assist on Ryan’s goal. Because Ryan does score. He practically sweeps Louie off his feet when he barrels into him to hug him. Ryan thanks him after, but Louie shrugs it off, like it doesn’t mean anything.

He catches Louie checking on the Minnesota Bears’ game in the app after the game, lingering over one of the goals. Scored by Bastien Hathaway.

That entire family is ridiculous. Minus the gay pediatrician brother, who is apparently just some (really smart) guy. But the Hathaways are known for hockey. Not just Louie’s dad and younger brother, but also his uncle, and his cousin who just got drafted this year. Third round.

Hockey is a foreign concept to Ryan’s family. His people aren’t athletes—they’re musicians and writers and painters and photographers. Ryan only got into hockey because the kids on his street—Adrian and Benji and Spencer—were playing hockey and Ryan didn’t want to be left out, so he asked his mom if she could sign him up, too.

It was just for fun at first. Ryan didn’t dream of playing on NHL ice when he was four. They picked Ryan’s number for him, said “You’re playing defense”, and then it turned out that he was actually pretty good at this whole hockey thing. Then Ryan started dreaming of playing on NHL ice.

He made it there in the most basic way possible. He got drafted, second round, played for the farm team, got called up before the playoffs during his third season and never left.

Until last week.

Louie’s journey is looking a little rockier. He’s been called up and sent back down many, many times during the past few years. Louie is a year younger than him, so he definitely has time. For him it’s not a matter of wanting it. He wants it so much. He’s leaving it all on the ice. Ryan doesn’t think he’s not ready yet either. That’s the case with some of the guys: they’re just not there yet. They need to be a little patient and work on themselves a little more.

Louie just needs to be given a chance and needs to play more than two games before he gets sent down again. The Cardinals are pretty stacked, so it’s hard to make the lineup. Well, it’s hard when they’re not injury-riddled and falling apart at the seams like they are right now.

When they get on the plane—they end up sitting together because everyone else already has a plane buddy—Ryan and Louie talk. About hockey. Only hockey. Ryan loves hockey, but sometimes he also needs a break from it. He needs to play some Minecraft and watch dog videos and buy funny socks on the Internet.

“Look at this,” Louie says and holds out his phone. It’s Vincent Nyberg scoring an absolutely filthy goal.

“Whoa,” Ryan says.

“He’s so good and he’s only twenty. Just imagine what he’ll play like in five years. In ten years. ”

“Kinda glad he’s in LA and we’re all the way over here,” Ryan quips.

“It’s like he can read everyone’s mind,” Louie goes on, awe in his voice. “He knows exactly where they’re going, and not just his teammates.”

Ryan fucking wishes he could read minds, at least selectively. Not just because it would be really helpful during a game. He wants to know how other people see him. Do they think he’s a good guy? Do they hate his hair? Do they actually want to hang out with him or do they just tolerate him?

Louie was definitely reluctant to move into the house with Ryan. And Ryan is trying not to take that personally. Louie’s right, he’s not staying indefinitely, but Ryan still thought that it may be better than a guest room at Santa’s. And Louie did say yes eventually.

Ryan was clearly right about Louie—he’s not one of those homophobic shitbags who are scared that A Gay will look at them the wrong way. So, yeah, he’s glad he asked, even though Louie talks about hockey all the time. He talks about hockey when they go out for dinner with the team and he talks about hockey when they have breakfast in the morning. Ryan’s pretty sure that Louie’s coffee is cold by the time he’s done waxing poetically about Ravens captain Elliot Cowell’s soft mitts.

When they have a day off before their game in Tampa Bay, Ryan and Louie get Froyowith Mikko Lampinen, who used to play with Louie in Springfield, and his fellow Finn, the Cards’ backup goalie Sami Peltola. Sami has a humongous and fluffy shelter dog that Ryan just has to meet as soon as they’re back home.

“Maybe you should have stayed with Santa,” Louie says to Ryan. “He just got a puppy.”

“No way.” Ryan gasps. “Why are you saying that like it’s a problem?”

“I’m just not…” Louie shrugs.

“Louie is scared of dogs,” Mikko says offhandedly.

“I’m not scared,” Louie says. “I just don’t trust every dog I come across. ”

“Smart,” Sami says.

“Okay, but most dogs are…” Ryan trails off when Louie’s phone starts buzzing.

“One second,” Louie says and picks up. “Hey, Dad.”

“Oh, it’s Dad ,” Mikko whispers. He must have met Dad Hathaway back in Springfield.

Louie glowers at Mikko. “Yeah,” he says, answering a question that none of them heard.

Honestly, Ryan hopes he gets to meet Dad Hathaway at some point. He’s in Boston most of the time, so he’s bound to come watch his kid play, right? Martie Hathaway has his own hockey academy and their summer camps are legendary. Ryan tried to get in a few times. No dice.

Louie probably got to go every summer.

“I don’t know,” Louie is saying. “I get two. I’ll see if I can have more, but I can’t—”

His dad clearly cuts him off and says something else.

“Yeah,” Louie says. A beat. “Yeah. Ask Bastien. Away teams—yeah.”

The face he’s making is, uh—Ryan made that face when he tried to drink spoiled milk a few weeks ago. He doesn’t make that face when his dad calls. His parents call him once a week, at least when he’s not traveling, and Dad tells him about whatever he’s working on in the garage. His mom tells him about the weddings she’s been photographing. Then they ask him about hockey and if he has a boyfriend and which podcasts he’s been listening to.

They talk for an hour. Maybe two.

Louie’s done talking to his dad after two minutes, barely says anything, mostly listens, and stares at his frozen yoghurt as he talks.

When he hangs up after a curt and unenthusiastic, “See you next week,” he picks up the cup and ignores that everyone is staring at him. At least for half a minute. Then he says, “What?”

“Your dad’s coming?” Ryan asks. He’s well aware that he just sounded like he’s asking if Taylor Swift is coming .

“Yeah,” Louie says and keeps eating his frozen yoghurt.

Maybe having a famous hockey dad isn’t that much fun when everyone’s all over you and wants to meet him. Ryan won’t ask. He won’t. Seriously. He’ll die if he doesn’t get to meet Dad Hathaway, but he’ll just have to deal.

Louie glances at Ryan. “You wanna meet him?”

“Um,” Ryan says because he wasn’t going to ask. Really.

“I’ll introduce you, don’t worry,” Louie says, sounding dreadfully bored. “Although he’ll probably want to see Bastien, so I don’t know if he’ll come to our room.”

“I mean, he’s gonna want to see both of you, right?” Ryan says. He didn’t think it was a controversial statement, but Louie’s face clouds over like they’ve got a major storm coming. Screen doors banging, patio furniture flying.

“Guess that depends on how the game goes,” Louie mumbles and pokes at his food. He looks around. “Do any of you guys have leftover tickets for the game against the Bears? My dad wants to bring my grandma and my older brother.”

“You can have mine,” Ryan says.

“Thanks,” Louie mutters.

It’s like Louie knows that Ryan is dying to ask him about his dad. About his family. He’s dying to know what it’s like to grow up in a hockey family that actually understands the game. Not that his family didn’t do their very, very best to learn the rules. Not that they didn’t show up to his games. They did. They screamed the loudest. But they never got it.

So, since Louie seems to be sensing that Ryan is two seconds away from asking a crap-ton of personal questions, he talks about hockey even more.

Ryan won’t ask. Really.

When they’re back from their roadie, they move into the house, and Ryan attaches the pizza keychain Carrot gave him once upon a time to his new key. While they get sorted, Louie talks about two things: 1) if Ryan is okay with him rearranging the furniture in the guest room and 2) the Cardinals’ struggling power play and how he’d fix it.

Ryan truly doesn’t give a shit if Louie pushes the bed up against the wall. And Louie kind of has a point about the power play. Coach should try Louie on the power play instead of on the penalty kill, but Ryan definitely won’t share those thoughts with anyone who has a say in anything. Coach Beaulieu wouldn’t appreciate it.

It takes Ryan about fifteen minutes to put all his stuff away. When he looks around his room, and when he walks around the house, all he sees are the things he wasn’t able to bring from Toronto. He’ll have to go back in the summer and pack properly. Have it all sent down here. He hopes he won’t have to do the same thing all over again next season when his contract runs out.

Ida Hellstrom was very sad to see Ryan go already and made him take Gustav, which Ryan did after getting the okay from Liam and Ella. Gustav makes his bedroom look like someone actually lives there. Ida also made Ryan promise to come over for dinner all the time, which won’t be a problem in the slightest.

Ryan promised he’d be by soon, then he carried Gustav to his car, with Ida watching to make sure he’d buckle him in. He did not miss Liam’s smirk as he piled Ryan’s bags into his rental car. Ryan very much appreciates that Liam didn’t make a joke about Ryan driving Gustav into a ditch.

“Did you steal that bear from a child?” Louie asks drily.

Ryan jumps. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He takes a deep breath. “Anyway. No. I did not steal him. Ida gave him to me.”

For some reason, Louie smirks. Ryan gives him a nudge and holds up his phone. “Here, let’s take a selfie, I wanna send it to my mom.”

Louie lets out a long-suffering sigh and tips his head a little closer to Ryan.

“Dude, can you try to look less like I’m torturing you?” Ryan says after he’s taken five pictures. Louie has murder eyes in all of them.

“But you are torturing me,” Louie says. “Selfies are a disease.”

“You sound like my boomer uncle who doesn’t know how to install apps on this phone.”

“I’ll smile once,” Louie says. “And then I’m taking a nap.”

Ryan puts his arm around him and Louie smiles, bright and delighted-to-be-here and so fake that Ryan almost regrets asking him to smile. Louie does put his arm around Ryan in turn, though, and that’s not something Ryan made him do, so at least he didn’t destroy this still very fresh friendship.

Ryan would really love to not ruin a good thing for once.