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Riley wasn’t surprised to hear Adam enter the kitchen, and he was too exhausted to attempt to pretend he wasn’t crying.

“Hey,” Adam said softly.

Riley sniffed and said nothing. He was sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands, and probably looked like a perfect reference image for misery. Dimly he registered Lucky resting his chin on his knee.

He heard a cupboard door open, then another, then two more. Then the tap running. A moment later Adam placed a glass of water next to his elbow.

“You want to talk about it?”

“No,” Riley said honestly. He didn’t want to talk about anything at all. He just wanted to go to sleep, and maybe wake up months later, when the grief wouldn’t be as sharp.

A chair scraped against the floor, then Adam was sitting kitty-corner to him. It should have felt more surreal, and alarming, to have Adam here in his home, and maybe it was a testament to how tired Riley was, but it felt…comfortable.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” Adam said, “but do you remember that game about halfway through our first season that both our families were at?”

“I remember.” Riley remembered Adam’s dad being a total dick after the game. Both Adam and Riley had gotten a decent amount of ice time for two rookies, and Adam had even gotten an assist. Toronto ended up losing, but losing was what the Northmen did back then. None of that had stopped Colin Sheppard from giving a detailed account of every mistake Adam had made during the game. He’d done it in front of the entire Tuck family, minutes after meeting them, all of them standing in an awkward group in the hall outside the locker room.

Riley was pretty sure that Adam’s parents had hated him, or at least their son’s friendship with him. He’d suspected they knew what Riley was, and how he felt about Adam, and it had disgusted them. Maybe they’d noticed the way Adam looked at Riley, sometimes. Whatever it was, Riley had no doubt they’d celebrated when the friendship had ended.

He was also pretty sure they used to hit Adam, when he’d been a kid, but Adam had never outright said so.

“Dad was…being Dad that night,” Adam said. “You know, picking apart my game and—”

“Yeah,” Riley interrupted, and lifted his head. “He was being a fucking prick.”

Adam huffed. “Exactly. Anyway, I know you were there for that part, but after, your dad caught me alone somehow—he must have created an opportunity, I don’t know.”

“Probably,” Riley said. He leaned back in his chair. “He was good at that.”

“He told me I was one of the prettiest skaters he’d ever seen.”

Riley smiled. “He wouldn’t be the last person to say that about you.”

“He wasn’t the first either, but man, I needed that compliment in that moment. But he also told me how happy he was that his son—” Adam paused to give Riley a pointed look “—had made such a good friend.”

Riley’s cheeks heated. “He said that?”

“And he told me if I wanted to spend some of the summer in Avery River, I was more than welcome.”

Riley wiped away a fresh tear. That was Dad: knowing exactly what someone needed and giving it to them.

Adam held his gaze, his expression serious, and said, “I was lucky to have you as a friend.”

This irritated Riley. What was he supposed to say to that? It was absolute bullshit. Did Adam expect him to say it back?

Still annoyed, Riley pushed his chair back, and stood. “Lasagna’s probably ready.”

As he walked to the oven, he heard Adam sigh heavily.

They ate while Lucky loudly crunched through his own dinner in the corner, and Adam carried on a mostly one-sided conversation about several things: the town, Toronto’s playoff chances, the possibility of sunshine tomorrow, food. Riley only half listened, but managed to finish his serving of lasagna.

“I’ll take care of this,” Adam said as he took both of their plates to the sink.

“The hell you will. Go rest your shoulder.”

Eventually, Adam did leave the kitchen, which gave Riley a moment to breathe. He reminded himself that he’d only invited Adam to stay because it was the right thing to do. Adam had hurt himself while helping Riley in the shop, so the least Riley could do was offer him a bed that wasn’t being used. It really wasn’t a big deal, and surely Adam would get bored soon and leave.

When Riley entered the living room, he found Adam lying on the sofa, his eyes closed. Lucky was resting on his dog bed in the corner.

“You awake?” Riley asked.

Adam opened his eyes and smiled. “Hey.”

Riley’s heart wobbled. Oh no. “I’m going to do some laundry in a minute, if there’s anything you want me to throw in.”

“God, that would be great. I’m wearing my last clean pair of pants.”

The pants in question were dark brown and, Riley couldn’t help but notice, exquisitely tailored. He could tell Adam’s legs were still thick and strong.

“You sure your clothes don’t need to be dry-cleaned?”

“Does this town have a dry-cleaner?”

“No.”

“I’ll risk it then.”

Which meant Adam was serious about staying, at least for a few more days.

For the next several hours, they both just existed in the same space. Adam had his phone out a lot, probably texting his kids. Or old teammates. Or the fucking Prime Minister. Who knew what Adam’s life was like these days?

Riley busied himself by watering plants, doing laundry, ironing, deep cleaning his kitchen sink, and, most absurdly, rearranging two shelves of his pantry.

“Need help?” Adam had called out from the living room when Riley had dropped an open bag of split peas on the floor, scattering them everywhere.

“No,” Riley had quickly called back. “I’m good.” Because everything he was doing was related to a single goal: avoid Adam.

Except now, in the golden lamplight of the living room, with Adam still lying on the couch and quietly reading a book, Riley found himself fascinated. Adam was wearing his glasses, which wasn’t a big deal, except they were really nice glasses and Riley hadn’t seen them before. The frames were heavy and dark and rectangular, like display boxes that showcased the perfect sapphire of his eyes. Adam’s lips were tight, as if the scene he was reading was tense or sad. Riley tried not to notice any of it, just like he didn’t care about the way Adam idly curled and uncurled his toes inside his socks as he read.

Riley didn’t care. He was only sitting for a moment, exhausted after all of his mostly unnecessary chores.

After a few minutes, Adam rested the book on his chest and said, “Shit, I didn’t even see you there.”

“Good book?”

“Aw, you know. It’s just a spy novel.”

Riley had never known Adam to read anything, before. Not that Riley was a great reader either. “What’s it about?”

“Spies.” Adam smiled lazily at him, then yawned.

“I can show you where you’re going to be sleeping,” Riley said. “If you want.”

Adam nodded. “I’m pretty tired.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“It’s been worse.”

Adam swung his legs over the sofa and sat up. His hair was a mess, and it was annoyingly cute. Riley watched as he stuck a bookmark in his paperback, then removed his glasses.

“What?” Adam asked when he noticed the way Riley had probably been staring at him. “Oh, is it the glasses?”

Riley grabbed that excuse with both hands. “Yeah. Hadn’t seen them before.” He stood. “Come on upstairs.”

* * *

The guest room, Adam soon discovered, was every bit as charming and beautifully decorated as the rest of Riley’s house. The walls and ceiling were covered in wide, white wooden boards, and the wood floor was stained the same rich brown as the rest of the house. A large rug covered most of the floor, and the bed was piled high with pillows and a blue-and-white-striped duvet. The window faced the ocean, though it was too dark outside to see now, and had a built-in blue velvet bench seat. Lucky had his front paws on the bench, as if trying to make sure Adam saw it.

“Are you kidding me?” Adam said. “Riles, this is beautiful.”

“Thanks. I wanted it to be nautical without being too nautical, y’know?”

“Nautical but nice,” Adam agreed.

Riley rolled his eyes, but he smiled slightly. “Anyway. The bed should be better than what you were sleeping in.”

“Definitely.”

Riley was taking up most of the doorframe, leaning against one side with his arms crossed. He would have looked menacing, except Adam couldn’t possibly be intimidated by a man who’d made a room as adorable as this one.

“There are some books there.” Riley pointed to a small shelf in one corner of the room. “Since you’re such a bookworm now.”

“I only started reading a few years ago, when I broke my foot,” Adam said as he bent to scratch Lucky’s ears.

“Dad liked spy novels too. He’d give them to me after he finished them, but I don’t read much.” He stared at the shelf for a moment, not moving, then cleared his throat and said, “Anyway. Help yourself.”

Adam stood and took a step toward him. “Riley…”

Riley raised a hand. “I’m fine. I need to go to bed. Come on, Lucky.”

“Okay, but…thank you. Seriously.”

“No problem,” Riley muttered, though Adam felt like he was causing all sorts of problems for him.

Later, alone in possibly the best bed he’d ever been in, Adam wondered if he was imagining that Riley’s hatred of him was thawing a bit. Obviously if Riley hated him, Adam wouldn’t be in this bed, in this beautiful house. He wouldn’t have fed him and done his laundry. He wouldn’t have offered him his dad’s spy novels.

Riley had to still care about Adam, at least a little bit. And that was something Adam could work with.