Page 21

November 2003

“They’re angry,” Adam said cheerfully.

“I would be too,” Riley said over the noise of twenty thousand unhappy New York hockey fans, “if my team blew a four-nothing lead.”

The score was 5–4 for Toronto with just under two minutes to go in the game. New York would pull their goalie for the extra attacker as soon as they got the chance. Adam and Riley were on the ice to make sure nothing would come of that chance, if they got it.

With fifty seconds left, New York was set up in the Toronto zone, six skaters on the ice and their net empty at the other end. New York passed the puck back and forth while Riley and his teammates did a good job of blocking their lanes. Finally, New York got a shot through, but Toronto’s goalie, Jonah Page, got a pad on it. The puck ricocheted back to New York’s top sniper, Kolar, who was looking at a wide-open net on Page’s glove side. Riley threw himself in front of the net and took the shot hard in his right shin. It fucking hurt, but the puck stayed out. It bounced to Adam, who fired it down the ice and into the empty net for the game-clinching goal.

Riley was still on his knees when Adam skated over to celebrate.

“Are you okay?” Adam shouted. “Fucking incredible block, Riles. Are you good?”

“I’m good,” Riley said, then took a few slow breaths through his nose.

“Come on,” Adam said. He waited for Riley to stand, then stayed close to him as they went to the bench.

Riley grunted as he sat, his leg throbbing. Adam threw an arm around him and knocked their helmets together. “Now they’re really mad,” Adam said.

Riley pressed back against his friend and grinned up at the ceiling of the historic arena. He was twenty years old and, yeah. This was fucking cool.

Later, in the rowdy locker room, Riley’s good mood began to deteriorate. “Sounds like you guys are going out,” he said to Adam, trying not to let his bitterness show. “Have fun.”

Adam frowned. “You’re coming too, though, right? It’s New York, Riles. You gotta come out.”

Riley shrugged. “I’m not twenty-one yet.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed like he was doing math. When he solved the equation, he said, “Fuck.”

“America, man. What are you gonna do?”

“You’ll be twenty-one in three weeks, though.”

Riley nudged him. “I don’t think that matters.”

“Yeah, but…” Adam glanced around the locker room, as if someone magically had three weeks of life experience they could give Riley. “There’s gotta be a way.”

“Sure,” Riley said. “Maybe we can convince everyone to get ice cream or something instead.” He went back to removing his gear, hoping he was doing a decent job hiding his jealousy.

About a minute later, Adam said, “I’ll bet New York has great ice cream.”

Riley huffed. “Yeah. It’s the first thing people think of.”

“They probably have flavors we’ve never even—”

“Shep. Stop. You don’t have to cheer me up like I’m a fucking five-year-old. I’m fine. I’ll probably fall asleep as soon as I’m back in the room anyway.”

Adam ducked his head, but Riley could see the flush on the back of his neck. “It just sucks. That’s all.”

Riley didn’t argue, because it did suck. It fucking sucked that he couldn’t celebrate this win with his teammates in the coolest city in the world. It sucked that he couldn’t celebrate with Adam . And it sucked that Adam looked so hot after games, all sweaty and vibrating with adrenaline.

An hour after they got back to their hotel room, Adam still hadn’t left to go out. He hadn’t even changed out of his postgame suit, or done anything except lie next to Riley and talk his ear off. Riley wasn’t complaining.

“How’s your leg?” Adam asked for the third time.

“Fine.” It still hurt, but whatever. It was just a bruise.

“You feel like taking a walk, maybe?”

Riley couldn’t stand it anymore. “Aren’t you going out?”

Adam rolled to his side to face him. “Thought I might stay in.”

Riley held his gaze, fighting an eye roll and a grin at the same time. “Stay in and take a walk, you mean?”

Adam’s lips curved into a shy smile that made Riley want to do very stupid things. “Yeah. Maybe. You wanna?”

Riley would do anything Adam wanted to do. It was his embarrassing secret, and it wasn’t even a secret because he was so fucking obvious about it. Adam could suggest they swim to Staten Island and Riley would be putting on trunks. “Where are we walking?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere! It’s New York.”

Riley chewed the inside of his cheek. “You don’t have to do this. You should go out with the guys.”

“They won’t miss me.” Adam poked Riley’s bicep. “Let’s have an adventure together.”

“It’s eleven o’clock,” Riley argued, even as his blood fizzed with excitement.

Adam waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve heard this city never sleeps. Come on.”

Ten minutes later they’d both changed their clothes—Adam into the black jeans that Riley secretly loved, a Nike sweatshirt, and Adidas sneakers. Riley used the bathroom, and when he walked out, Adam was talking to someone on the phone that sat on the table between their beds.

“Just gonna hang with Riles,” Adam was saying. “You guys have fun.” He laughed at something, then said, “I don’t see that happening.”

Riley pretended to be ignoring the conversation by unnecessarily adjusting his pink-and-yellow-striped polo in the mirror. It didn’t matter how he looked, he told himself. It was just Adam, and Adam wasn’t looking at him like that. Not ever.

Adam hung up and then moved to stand behind Riley. He fussed with his own hair in the mirror a bit, then leaned into Riley’s neck and said, “You smell good. Is that new cologne?”

“Yeah. Lacoste.”

“I like it.”

Riley couldn’t look away from how close Adam’s lips were to his neck. He could feel Adam’s breath, and he helplessly tilted his head, just slightly. “You can use some,” he said in a near whisper, “if you want.”

Adam stepped back, smiling. “It’s okay. I can just smell it on you.”

Sometimes Riley wanted to shake Adam, because fine. He got it. Adam wasn’t gay and was oblivious to how flirtatious he often sounded. He somehow didn’t notice the constant battle Riley fought to keep himself from kissing him: at home, at work, in these hotel rooms. Whenever Adam chose to lounge on Riley’s bed when they watched TV instead of staying on his own bed (often). Whenever he pressed their foreheads together to murmur words of encouragement or praise before, during, or after games (more often). Whenever he laughed at something Riley said (fucking constantly, Riley was in serious trouble).

Riley was going to buy a crate of Lacoste Pour Homme.

* * *

“If I win the million dollars, I’ll split it with you,” Adam said.

“It’s more likely that you’ll win another Coke,” Riley said, as he handed Adam one of the two bottles of Cherry Coke he’d bought.

“Then I’ll share that with you.”

“Deal.”

They stepped out of the bodega onto…somethingth street. Or avenue. Riley wasn’t sure. He’d lost track of where they were several blocks ago.

“It’s fine,” Adam had said when Riley had pointed out they were lost. “We can use the Empire State Building to find our way back. Or get a cab.”

Riley wasn’t overly concerned with being lost. He was tired, his leg hurt, and the night was cold—he should have worn a hat—but he was in no hurry to get back to the hotel.

“I’m pretty sure Times Square is this way,” Adam said, and began walking.

“Is that where we’re going?”

Adam smiled and shrugged. “Why not, right?”

Riley was sure Adam had no idea where Times Square was, but he didn’t care. If they ended up in Philadelphia, so be it.

“Did you win?” Adam asked.

Riley read the inside of his bottle cap. “Nope.”

“Me neither.”

“Sorry.”

A moment later, Adam said, “I was thinking we should get a plasma screen TV.”

“I don’t even really know what that is.”

“They’re sick. It’s, like, supergood picture. Like crystal clear. Jakey got one. He said it’s like being at a football game.”

Riley didn’t think there was anything wrong with the TV they had, but he indulged him. “Do you even follow football?”

“Sometimes. But you can watch anything!”

Riley’s lips twitched. “That is a good feature.”

Adam elbowed him. “I’m just saying they’re dope and we should get one.”

“How much are they?”

“I dunno. Like ten grand, I think?”

Riley struggled not to spit out his Cherry Coke. “Seriously?”

Adam spread his arms. “We’re young and rich, Riles! Who else are they making these things for?”

“Maybe don’t tell all of New York that we’re rich,” Riley said, glancing around the dark sidewalks. “Where even are we?”

“We’re almost there.”

“Where?”

“Times Square!”

“Then why are the streets getting darker? Times Square is bright, Shep.”

Adam waved a hand. “We’re fine. So yeah, when we get back home, I say we hit up a Future Shop and upgrade our TV. We could watch the Super Bowl on it!”

“We’re in Anaheim that day.”

“Oh yeah.” Adam’s disappointment didn’t last. “That’s okay. We can just have really sweet movie nights together.”

Riley’s heart did a weird little flip, and he decided ten thousand dollars might be a reasonable price for a television after all.

A few minutes later, they found themselves looking at water. Adam had led them to a park along what Riley assumed was the Hudson because it didn’t have any of the iconic bridges that spanned the East River.

“So this is it, huh,” Riley said flatly. “Times Square.”

But Adam wasn’t bothered. “This place is so cool!” He grabbed Riley’s wrist and tugged him toward the river. “Come check it out.”

They leaned together on the railing that lined the promenade, gazing across the dark water at, if Riley’s geography was correct, New Jersey. The park’s lights glowed all around them, making the place feel safe. It also felt, he couldn’t help but notice, romantic. Riley’s right hand was so close to Adam’s left on the top rail that it would have been nothing to hook their fingers together.

He watched Adam, enjoying his profile against the lights. When they’d first met, Adam’s hair had been spiky, with the remnants of bleach blond at the tips left over from Adam’s junior team’s Memorial Cup run. Now his hair was shorter, more tapered, and fully dark. His jaw was sharper, and he’d added muscle over the summer. Riley wondered if he was doomed to watch his roommate grow more handsome every year.

Adam noticed him watching and smiled. “What?”

“Nothing.” Riley looked away. Not far from them, a man and a woman were against the same railing, kissing. He felt like the background extra in a movie.

“So where’s the Brooklyn Bridge?” Adam asked.

“Other side.”

“Other side of what?”

“Manhattan. It’s over the other river.”

“There’s another river?”

“Jesus Christ, Shep. You know Manhattan is an island, right?”

There was a long silence, and then Adam said, “I knew that.”

Riley huffed. “Sure.”

“So where’s the Statue of Liberty then?”

“I can’t fucking believe I let you be the guide tonight.”

Adam bumped his hip against Riley’s. “How are you a New York expert? You’re from the smallest town in the world.”

“It’s New York . Haven’t you ever seen a movie?”

Adam laughed. “So where’s the statue?”

Riley gestured to their left. “That way. In the harbor.”

“Oh. Right.” Adam squinted in that direction as if he might catch a glimpse of it. Riley’s heart flipped again. He was so easily charmed by this idiot.

He turned his attention to his bottle cap, reading the writing on the inside as if it might have changed and now told him he was a big winner.

“How’s your leg?” Adam asked.

The question reminded Riley of how this night had started. That Adam had turned down the chance to party in New York with his NHL teammates in favor of hanging out with Riley; a man that he lived with both in Toronto and on the road. A man he saw every single day, and most of the hours of those days were spent together. There was no one on earth that Adam should want to hang out with less tonight, but he was here. And Riley was being a dick to him.

“It’s fine,” Riley said honestly. “And, um, thanks. I liked this.”

Adam smiled. “Well, it’s not over yet. Let’s go to that twenty-four-hour diner we passed.”

In that moment, Adam looked so beautiful that Riley couldn’t breathe. “Yeah,” Riley said faintly. “Cool.”

They never found the diner again, of course. After several blocks of Adam insisting they were retracing their steps, Riley finally persuaded him to stop. “Let’s just, like, get our bearings.”

They definitely hadn’t been here before, and Riley knew that because he certainly would have noticed the bar with the rainbow flag waving outside. He knew the moment Adam spotted it too because he let out a quiet, “Oh.”

And then Riley spotted the two men kissing across the street, and knew Adam saw them too because Adam said, “Um, yeah. Okay. We should go.”

It took Riley a moment to get moving. He was rooted by a mixture of shock and fascination and embarrassment. He and Adam were intruding, witnessing something they weren’t meant to. Later, he would let himself be angry that he’d felt none of these things when he saw the man kissing the woman by the river. When he saw some version of that so many times every day. Watching these men kiss shouldn’t feel different, but it did. It was terrifying and exciting.

Riley was so wrapped up in his own crisis that he momentarily forgot about Adam. When he finally glanced at his friend, he saw that Adam hadn’t moved either and was staring at the two men.

What are you thinking? Riley desperately wanted to ask. Was he disgusted? Horrified?

Finally, Adam started walking, quickly, back in the direction they’d come from. Opting, probably, to retreat rather than risk finding gayer terrain ahead.

They walked in silence for a few blocks, then Adam said, “We should get a cab back to the hotel.”

“Okay.” So that was it, then. Their New York adventure was over.

Adam was able to flag a taxi a few minutes later. They didn’t speak during the ride back to the hotel.

“I’ve done that,” Riley wanted to say. “I’ve kissed boys. That’s me.”

He’d often wondered how Adam would react if Riley came out to him. He knew he wouldn’t get the reaction he wanted most—a delighted smile, a kiss, a love confession—but maybe he’d win the consolation prize of having his best friend truly know who he is, and accept him. That would be enough, he tried to convince himself.

By the time they were back in their hotel room, Riley had grown annoyed by Adam’s continued silence. Was it really such a big deal, seeing two men kiss? Adam was acting like he’d witnessed a murder.

Riley took a risk, a very small one, and said, “It’s cool that those guys felt safe doing that.” He held his breath, waiting to find out if he’d be able to stay friends with Adam Sheppard.

He nearly collapsed with relief when Adam said, simply, “Yeah.”

That single word assured Riley that there would be no homophobic tirades from Adam, and that at least was something. Some of their teammates would have reacted very differently to Riley saying that.

Later, when Riley was in bed and Adam still had his lamp on, Adam said, “Do you think they were safe?”

Riley raised his head, then turned to face his friend. Was Adam worried about those two strangers?

“Safer, maybe,” Riley said. “Safer than most places, anyway. Toronto has a big gay village where you see that sort of thing.” Heat crept up his neck. “I mean, I’ve heard that there is. In Toronto.”

Adam seemed to contemplate this as he stared at the ceiling, hands clasped together on his stomach. He was still fully dressed. “It must be scary, being gay.”

Riley’s heart stopped. He just stopped himself from blurting out, “It is.” Instead, he said, “Probably.”

Adam turned his head and looked at him. “Sorry we never made it to Times Square. Or the diner.”

“It’s okay. I’m tired anyway.”

“I wanted to show you a good time.”

“You did.” Riley raised himself up on an elbow. “I still don’t know why you chose to hang out with me when you could have gone clubbing with the guys.”

Adam’s smile was soft and sleepy. “Wouldn’t have been fun without you, Riles.”

And that was when Riley fell the rest of the way in love with him.