Page 43 of Drop the Gloves

Goddamnit.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Woodsy said, waggling his eyebrows.

Dalty, stupid Dalty, said Evan didn’t date. Now, all of a sudden, he had a girlfriend the whole fucking team knew about? And was going to see her instead of hanging out with the team?

Was that why he’d been acting weird lately?

If he considered things objectively, Riley doubted Evan had an actual girlfriend for no other reason that Evan wasn’t the type to hook up with Riley if he were already in a relationship.

But there was something to this story he was missing, and it might explain the weird vibe Evan had been giving off.

Riley was having trouble being objective, though.

All he could feel was jealousy and annoyance and hurt.

He hadn’t gotten Evan to himself at all on this stupid trip to Canada.

First his mom (yes, Riley knew he couldn’t complain about that one), and now some random chick.

Even at the hotels, he hadn’t been able to get Evan for more than five minutes without the team interfering.

Stupid celebrating their 5-0 blowout of the Terrors.

Stop freaking out and fucking ask, dumbass.

Oh. Right.

He didn’t get a chance until they were on the bus.

Riley had to cut ahead of five guys to make sure he got a spot next to Evan, and he couldn’t even be ashamed of how unchill he was being.

This was A Big Deal, and there were basically no answers that wouldn’t hurt him somehow, but he still had to give Evan a chance to explain.

There were a lot of subtle, totally normal ways to lead into asking what he wanted to know. Riley had never been good at subtle, so of course when he plopped down next to Evan, the first words out of his mouth were, “So you’ve got a girlfriend?”

Jesus fucking Christ. He felt like he was back in middle school and had the same inability to function like a normal human being around someone he liked.

“Huh?” Evan looked up from his phone, his frown lightening when he saw Riley.

A chance for Riley to prove he wasn’t a complete spaz, and instead his stupid brain doubled down. “Lawson said you have a girlfriend. You’re gonna hang out with her today or something.”

“Oh, that.” There were no signs of embarrassment or guilt, which was a plus. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“But there is a girl?” For fuck’s—could he just take his foot and insert it permanently into his mouth?

Evan blushed. What did that mean? Fucking hell.

“Kind of? There’s literally a girl—Amy—but I’m not dating her.

I’ve never dated her. I lived with her family when I played in the Canadian Junior Hockey League.

I was so homesick when I moved to Ottawa, which I know is stupid since it isn’t even that far from Peterborough.

I could’ve been a lot farther from home, but still.

Her family was great. We still talk, and I try to visit when I’m in town.

Her parents are out of town, so it’ll just be the two of us tonight. ”

“She’s part of your billet family,” Riley said slowly, like he might’ve misunderstood. A wave of relief washed through him when Evan nodded. “Cool that you still keep in touch.”

“I’m glad she was available at such short notice.” Evan said it like he was confiding something in Riley. “I completely spaced out on the schedule and didn’t text her until, like, four days ago.”

So she rearranged all her plans just for you? Fucking fantastic.

“Uh huh.” He grabbed the first available topic change he could think of. “Nice goal today. Season highlight for sure.”

Riley was proud that Evan blushed again, this time deeper than when they’d been talking about stupid Amy From the Billet Family (who was probably a lovely person, but Riley didn’t give a shit; he didn’t like sharing).

“It was all right.”

“Nope, it was not all right. It was fucking fantastic. Backhand bar down? Those ain’t easy.

” He liked this part of being on a team.

Hyping up his teammates, making sure they stopped to enjoy the little moments that made up a big season.

Some guys put their nose to the grindstone, so to speak, and were too focused on the prize to enjoy the journey there.

Yeah, Riley remembered when he won the Cup with vivid detail, but his fondest memories from his career were the mundane moments where he was hanging out with his bros.

You maybe lifted the Cup a couple of times, but you lived with your team every day for months, maybe years.

Evan, more than most, seemed like he needed those confidence-boosters. Not because he had his eyes set on the Cup, but more because he seemed...adrift. Letting hockey push him forward instead of getting steady on his own feet.

Riley could be his anchor.

“Yeah,” Evan said. He had that small smile that barely looked like a smile, but on him it was the equivalent of a grin.

Riley hadn’t noticed that smile until they’d started their fighting practice.

How pleased he’d get whenever he managed to punch Riley.

His victory smile, private and contained unless you knew exactly what it looked like. “I guess it wasn’t bad.”

“It was great,” Riley agreed sincerely. “I’m jealous. Half of my goals this season have been garbage goals.”

“You’re really good with trash,” Evan joked. He had told exactly zero jokes when the season had started, so Riley delighted in them every time, even as they became more frequent.

“Dick,” he said far too fondly. Riley had stopped being able to ignore how much he liked Evan, but he hoped Evan wouldn’t spot it yet. He was hoping Evan might catch feelings for him too before then, though he wasn’t sure how likely that would be.

For the rest of the bus ride, Riley was determined not to let on how disappointed he was that Evan wouldn’t be his tonight. He could be nice and not ruin Evan’s night with his friend because of his foul mood.

And then when he went out with the team, Riley could get hammered enough that he wouldn’t care that he’d end the night alone.