Page 15 of Tough Guy (Game Changers #3)

When Ryan arrived at the café on Monday night, Fabian was nowhere to be seen. There was a small stage—really just a slightly elevated corner of the room—which was empty besides a stool and a microphone stand. A few patrons sat at tables, but it was mostly quiet in the room.

Ryan did not like this situation at all.

Maybe he should text Fabian to confirm that this open mic was still happening, and that Fabian would indeed be coming to it. Maybe Ryan had gotten the location wrong. Maybe he should just leave and apologize later if he needed to.

Oh god. Ryan had just been standing, frozen, at the café entrance and now people were staring at him.

He made a decision, and went to the counter to order something. He could sit and nurse a beverage for a bit, and if Fabian didn’t show up, he could leave.

The barista was a young woman who looked far cooler than Ryan could ever hope to be, but she smiled warmly when he approached the counter. “You here for the open mic?”

“Uh, yeah. I was worried I was in the wrong place maybe.”

“Nope. It’s not usually a big crowd. Mondays, y’know?”

“Right.”

“Are you playing tonight?”

For a moment, Ryan thought she recognized him and was asking about a hockey game. Then he realized what she was actually asking him.

“Me? God, no. No. I’m here to see a...friend.”

“Ah. Can I get you something?”

Ryan ordered a tea, and wished he had noticed before that the café was licensed. He would have preferred a beer. But she was already preparing his orange pekoe, so he didn’t say anything.

He found an empty table, sat, and waited, staring at the steam rising off his tea like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. Then he remembered that he had an e-book on his phone he could read. Thank god for books.

He had been comfortably reading for about half an hour when he heard Fabian’s voice behind him. Ryan turned and saw both Fabian and Vanessa, and a third person—a young Black man—who Ryan didn’t recognize.

Fabian spotted him immediately and waved. He seemed to have brought only his violin tonight.

“You came!” he said cheerfully when he reached the table. He fell into the chair next to Ryan while Vanessa and the other man pulled chairs over from nearby tables to join them. “Have you been waiting long? I should have warned you that this thing always starts late.”

“It’s okay. I was reading.”

“Oh good. You remember Vanessa? And this is Marcus, her roommate and one of our very best friends. Marcus, this is Ryan.”

Marcus extended a hand. “Oh, I have been dying to meet you.”

Ryan warily shook his hand, and Fabian slapped Marcus’s arm. “Don’t listen to him, Ryan. He’s just trying to embarrass me.”

Ryan tried not to think too much about what that might mean.

Instead he said, “It’s a lot quieter here than it was at your show.

” He noticed that Fabian was dressed very casually—jeans, a black sweater, and just a trace of eyeliner.

When Fabian leaned forward, Ryan could see his collarbone peeking out of the wide neck of the sweater.

“Oh, this place is dead,” Fabian said casually. “I like that, though. It’s a good place to try stuff out.”

“The place would be packed if people knew he was playing tonight,” Vanessa said.

“As if.” Then Fabian smiled. “Well, yes. Probably. But it’s a very small room.”

“So you play for the Guardians?” Marcus said.

“Yes. Last I heard anyway.” It was a joke that would work better in hockey circles, but Marcus smiled politely.

“You played Saturday night. The bar I work at shows the games early in the evening. I didn’t see the end. Did you win?”

“We did. It was a good one.”

“What are you drinking?” Fabian asked. “I’ll buy a round.”

“Um, tea.”

“You’re not buying me anything, Fabian,” Vanessa scolded. “Sit down.”

“I’ll buy,” Ryan said. “I was thinking of getting a beer, and hockey pays pretty well, so...”

“I’ll bet it does,” Marcus purred. “I like your new friend, Fabian.”

Ryan stood, and Fabian offered to go with him. Ryan was grateful because he was worried he would forget everyone’s orders. When they were away from the table, Fabian said, “Sorry about them. They’re sort of...overly interested in you.”

“Really? Why?”

And for a moment it really looked like Fabian might be blushing a bit. “I don’t know. I guess because they know how I feel about hockey players and they probably think it’s funny that I—” He shook his head. “They’re just being dumb. You’re a curiosity because you’re new.”

“Okay.”

They ordered everyone’s drinks and Ryan paid. Everyone had ordered a beer or a wine, so they didn’t have to wait long for them. Ryan picked up two pints of beer and was about to carry them to the table when Fabian put a hand on his arm. “Wait.”

“What?”

“Just...before we join those two idiots—who I love—I just want to thank you for being here. Sincerely.”

“Oh. No problem. To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Ryan held his breath and waited for Fabian’s reply. There was something in Fabian’s eyes—surprise or maybe confusion. But then he smiled and said, “Me too.”

Ryan truly had no idea what this was anymore.

It seemed almost like a date, but that would be ridiculous.

And impossible. Ryan liked spending time with Fabian, and he loved watching him perform, but someone as beautiful and happy as Fabian had no place in Ryan’s miserable world.

And Fabian was showing Ryan kindness by offering himself as a guide to the Toronto scene.

It didn’t mean he wanted anything to do with Ryan beyond that.

They brought the drinks back to the table and they had barely sat back down when Vanessa said, “Have you tested that vibrator yet, Fabian?”

Fabian struggled to swallow his wine, then glared at her. “What is wrong with you?”

She spread her hands. “What? Are we shy about vibrators now? Is this a church supper? I need to get a review of that thing on my site.”

“We can talk about this later.”

She turned to Ryan. “Sorry. Are you an adult who is aware of the existence of sex toys?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Fabian, have you used the vibrator?”

He shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed. “You are so inappropriate. No. I haven’t used it, okay?”

“Well, use it! Or find someone to use it on.” She very deliberately tilted her head in Ryan’s direction after she said this. Ryan looked at his beer. Marcus started laughing.

“All right, enough,” Fabian grumbled. “I am going to ask if I can play first, and you two are going to be nice to Ryan.”

Fabian left, and Ryan decided he could try out being cool. “You review sex toys, Vanessa?”

“I do! But sometimes I have to outsource the ones for parts I don’t have. A lot of the guest reviews are anonymous, so if you ever want to—”

“No, I’m not—I mean. I wouldn’t be any good at that.”

She shrugged. “Offer stands. Just let me know. It’s a great way to get free toys.”

“Um. Thanks.”

“Oh my god,” Fabian said when he returned to the table. “Are you still talking about sex toys?”

“It’s okay,” Ryan said quickly. “I asked about her website.”

Fabian looked suspiciously at Vanessa, then he must have decided to drop it. “I’m going on in a minute. Raksha says there’s only three people signed up for tonight.”

The place had filled up a bit since Ryan had first arrived, but it was still a relatively small crowd, the kind where Fabian would be able to see each individual face when he was on the stage. Ryan felt ill just imagining it.

“Good luck!” Vanessa said. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been working on.”

Marcus turned to Ryan. “He totally disappeared last week. He does that. He’ll be struck with inspiration and go into hermit mode.”

“I wasn’t a hermit,” Fabian protested. “I worked two shifts at the drugstore, went to see a show, and I even bought groceries.”

Marcus flicked his hand. “Go. Show us the fruits of your labor.”

Fabian made a show of grabbing his violin case and turning dramatically toward the stage. Ryan found it oddly sexy.

Even with the small crowd and the minimal setup, Fabian was a commanding presence when he took the stage.

He took a moment to get himself and his instrument ready, plugged his phone into something-or-other, and then he nodded at the barista—Raksha—to kill the music that had been playing through the speakers.

There was chatter after the music stopped, followed by a moment of almost perfect silence when Fabian stepped to the mic.

Ryan thought he would greet the crowd or introduce the first song, but instead Fabian just started singing, a cappella. The first note was so strong and clear, it was startling. And maybe that was the point; Fabian obviously knew how to get an audience’s attention.

After a verse and a chorus, a backing track from Fabian’s phone accompanied him, and he started to play his violin.

He couldn’t sing and play the violin at the same time, so he would just switch between voice and violin, like a magical conversation he was having with his instrument.

Ryan didn’t think his own heart beat even once during the entire song.

“Wow, right?” Vanessa whispered to him when the song was over.

“Yeah,” Ryan said stupidly. Fabian smiled at the crowd and tugged the shoulder of his sweater, which had slid halfway down his arm while he’d been playing, back up.

He was so fucking beautiful Ryan couldn’t stand it.

As stunning as Fabian had been onstage in the club at the last show, with the wall of sound he’d created and the dramatic costume and lighting, there was something even more enchanting about this moment.

The intimacy of the room—the small audience, the warm lighting, and Fabian’s casual attire—made Ryan feel special, like he was one of the chosen few who were permitted to watch a prince perform.

For about the millionth time that week, Ryan remembered the fleeting touch of Fabian’s soft lips on his cheek.

It had been so chaste—nothing, really—but it had absolutely consumed Ryan’s thoughts for days.

Was it possible for your heart to hold on to a ridiculous crush for thirteen years?

And if so, why would his heart choose someone so unattainable?

Why would it want someone who was so wildly incompatible with Ryan?

But Fabian, for whatever reason, gave Ryan the impression that he enjoyed his company.

He didn’t seem to notice or care that Ryan was starved for the light Fabian radiated effortlessly.

He didn’t know that, if he got too close, Ryan would no doubt extinguish that light and drag him down into the shadows with him.

Fabian played four songs and then thanked the audience for listening. The applause was surprisingly enthusiastic for such a small group. A couple of minutes later, Fabian had rejoined the table, violin case in hand.

“Don’t say anything,” he said. “I don’t want to hear a word.”

“Hm?” Marcus said, pretending to be engrossed in his phone. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Did you play yet?”

Fabian rolled his eyes. “Okay, asshole.”

“That was terrible,” Vanessa said. “I can’t believe you made us listen to that.”

“You guys are such fucking dicks.”

He glanced at Ryan, and Ryan knew he should say something, but Fabian’s sweater had slipped again, exposing an entire shoulder. Ryan wanted to sink his teeth into it.

“Speechless,” Fabian said, waving a hand at him. “Ryan is my new favorite.”

“We know,” Marcus muttered.

“That was really—” Ryan started.

Fabian cut him off. “Incredible. I know. Let’s talk about something else. Are you going to come dancing with us on Friday?”

Vanessa lit up. “Oh my god! Yes! You have to!”

“Actually, I can’t.” He looked at Fabian. “Sorry. There’s a team party—a birthday thing. I just found out about it a couple of days ago. Otherwise I would have gone.”

Fabian actually looked disappointed by this. “Oh. Well, that’s too bad. If the party sucks, be sure to drop by the club. We’ll be there until it closes, I suspect.”

“Right. Okay.” Ryan wished he could say no to the party.

He didn’t want to go to Dallas Kent’s stupid house.

He definitely had no interest in celebrating Kent’s birthday.

But he’d promised to be a team player this year, on and off the ice.

Skipping the star player’s party would likely be a bad move.

It was probably for the best. Going to a dance club with Fabian and his beautiful friends would be torture.

Ryan could envision how the night would go: he would be standing against a wall, trying not to be noticed.

He wouldn’t be dancing, and he’d be overheated and uncomfortable.

The music would be too loud. Fabian would be on the dance floor, pressing his lithe body against some other gorgeous man.

And then they would start touching, and kissing, and Ryan would be unable to look away.

And then Ryan would go home alone to unsuccessfully jerk off.

Well, fuck that. Ryan could unsuccessfully jerk off just fine without the trouble of watching Fabian seduce another man on a dance floor.

The other open mic performers were both women with guitars, and both were talented with interesting songs and strong voices.

But Ryan was getting anxious to leave. If he weren’t worried about being rude, he would have left after Fabian’s set.

With each minute that passed, Ryan was increasingly overwhelmed by the feeling that he did not belong here.

He wished he could fit in with these sparkling, creative people, but he didn’t.

He was a dark cloud, and it was time he drifted away.

“I’m gonna head out,” he said, after the last performer left the stage.

“Oh,” said Fabian. “Are you just going home?”

“Yeah. Thanks for inviting me out, though. It was great to hear you again.”

Without warning, Vanessa clamped a hand on Ryan’s wrist. “Wait. Which way are you walking, Ryan?”

“South.”

“Oh good! Marcus and I are walking north, so you can walk with Fabian. We don’t like him walking alone at night.”

Ryan glanced at Fabian, but he was glaring at Vanessa. “You don’t have to, Ryan,” he said, his eyes not leaving her face.

“No, it’s okay. I can walk with you.”

“Great!” Vanessa said. “Fabian really appreciates it.”

Marcus snorted, and Ryan wasn’t sure what that was about, but for now he could focus on the noble and completely non-sexual task of making sure Fabian got home safely.