Page 8 of Tough Guy (Game Changers #3)

Not that he was going to be hooking up with Ryan Price. For so many reasons.

“Come sit.” Fabian gestured at the empty table next to them. Sitting would at least remove the distraction of Ryan’s height. And of how well he filled out that suit.

Once they were seated, Fabian propped an elbow on the table, leaned forward, and rested his chin on his fist. “Tell me all about yourself, Ryan Price.”

His tone was probably a tad too flirtatious, because Ryan laughed nervously and looked away. “Not much to tell.”

“Do you live in the neighborhood? The Village, I mean?”

“Uh, sort of. Like, not right here, but a few blocks south. Near the drugstore there, where you work.”

“So...yes, then? You live in the Village?” Fabian couldn’t help his teasing smile, but it seemed to put Ryan at ease. He smiled back at him.

“Yes. Sorry. Long answer to a simple question.”

Fabian had to push this. He was burning with curiosity. “Did you know you were moving into the queer neighborhood?”

Ryan’s brow furrowed, as if he was trying to decide how to answer the yes-or-no question. “Yeah. I knew.”

No further information was offered, so Fabian backed off. He was intrigued, though.

They sat in silence for a moment, Fabian looking toward the bar as if he was extremely interested in the progress of their drink orders. He decided he would let Ryan ask the next question.

Instead, Ryan broke the silence by suddenly blurting out, “I’m gay.”

Even though Fabian had kind of guessed this might be the case, hearing Ryan say the words was... “Holy shit.”

“Surprise,” Ryan said with a shrug.

“Are hockey players even allowed to be gay?”

Ryan laughed. “It’s only a five-minute major now.”

Fabian looked at him blankly.

“Sorry,” Ryan said. “Hockey joke. A bad hockey joke. Yes, there are gay hockey players.”

Fabian considered this. “I guess there’s that guy in New York. The hot one.”

“Scott Hunter. Yeah. I’m the other one. The not-hot one.” Ryan smiled at his self-deprecating comment.

Fabian wasn’t so sure about that assessment, but he ignored it for now. “So why have I heard about the New York guy being gay, but not you?”

Ryan snorted. “Because I’m not a superstar. And I didn’t kiss my boyfriend on live television after winning the Stanley Cup.”

Ryan saying the words kiss my boyfriend made Fabian’s head spin a little. Did Ryan have a boyfriend? Ryan dated men. Ryan kissed men. Ryan played hockey and he also kissed men.

“I also don’t talk about it much,” Ryan continued. “Being gay, I mean. Or anything, really.”

Well that was certainly true. Ryan didn’t seem to be any chattier now than he had been as an awkward teenager. “Your teammates don’t know?”

“Some of them do. Did. I get traded a lot, like I said.”

“Are they dicks about it?”

Ryan shrugged. “Most of them don’t seem to care. Or maybe it just helps that I’m big. I dunno.”

At that moment, Tarek returned to the table with a martini glass in each hand and a bottle of beer tucked in his elbow. “Vanessa is flirting with Callie.”

“Ah,” Fabian said, accepting his martini glass. “We probably won’t see her again.”

“Probably not,” Tarek agreed.

Fabian watched Ryan take a sip of his beer.

He was turned away from them a bit, but he didn’t seem to be looking at anything in particular.

Fabian was struck by how bizarre it was to be sitting at a table in one of his regular bars with his best friends.

..and Ryan Price. Ryan Price, who was apparently every bit as queer as Fabian, Fabian’s friends, and this bar they were in.

But he was still a hockey player, and Fabian had been very glad to eliminate all traces of hockey from his life as soon as he’d moved to Toronto to start university over a decade ago. Having Ryan here, in one of Fabian’s favorite spaces, should have been annoying him more than it was.

Ryan was different. Fabian had felt it when they’d been seventeen, and he still felt it now.

Unlike every other hockey player who had entered his family home, who Fabian had gone to school with, who had been coached by his father, Ryan had never made him feel uncomfortable.

When they had lived together, Fabian had actually enjoyed Ryan’s quiet presence.

When they’d done their homework together at the kitchen table, or watched Finding Nemo together with Amy (again), or walked to school together, it had always been in almost total silence.

But Fabian had always liked having him around. He was like...a big, sweet dog.

Fabian grimaced at the unflattering thought, and took a sip of lemon drop martini.

For several long minutes, no one at the table said anything. Ryan was still looking away, his back half turned to Fabian, and Tarek was engrossed in his phone.

“How do you get all of your gear home?” Ryan asked suddenly.

Fabian was surprised by the question. “Usually a friend or two helps me. I have a system: all the pedals and cords go in a backpack with my laptop, so it’s just the violin, the keyboard, and the stand that need to be carried. Sometimes I take a cab, but I only live a few blocks away from here.”

Ryan nodded.

“About that,” Tarek said slowly. “I’ve been messaging with this guy, Mario...”

“Mario the flight attendant?”

Tarek smiled dreamily. “The very same. He’s in town and he’s got a hotel room, so if you’ve got someone else helping you, I’m gonna...”

Fabian waved his hand. “Go. Enjoy Mario. I’m sure I can—”

“I can help,” Ryan said quickly. “I’ll carry your gear. I don’t mind.”

Fabian stared at him, then smiled. “Cool. Thanks.”

Tarek stood and kissed the top of Fabian’s head. He waved at Ryan and said, “Nice meeting you” before making a quick exit.

“And then there were two,” Fabian said, his voice more sultry than was appropriate. There was a trace of alarm in Ryan’s eyes, so Fabian leaned back in his chair and returned his voice to normal. “You don’t have to walk home with me. Really.”

“Oh.”

God, he looked disappointed. “I mean, you can. Of course. I’d like that.”

Ryan’s face brightened. “You would?”

“Sure. Big, strong man carrying my gear for me? Who wouldn’t like that?”

Ryan snorted, but he looked less enthused than he had a second ago. “Right.”

Fuck. “I’d like to talk to you. Away from this noise,” Fabian clarified. “It would be nice to catch up.”

That seemed to do the trick, because the beard area around Ryan’s mouth curved up.

Twenty minutes later, Fabian was making sure he hadn’t left anything near the stage when Vanessa planted herself in front of him. “Time to go?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to walk with me.”

Vanessa frowned. “Uh, yes I do. Tarek bailed and you need help. Unless you’re taking a cab.”

“It’s fine. You can stay and hang out with Callie. Ryan is going to help me.”

“Oh,” she said. Then, “Ohhhhhh.”

Fabian rolled his eyes. “Nope. Just friends. Or whatever.”

“Sure.”

“As if I’m going to fuck a hockey player.”

Instead of laughing, or arguing, Vanessa made a weird face that Fabian interpreted as Ryan the hockey player is standing right behind you.

Shit.