Kip had more than one job.
As well as working at Straw+Berry, he was on a call list for a company that hired servers for events, like fund-raisers and ceremonies. A friend had gotten him on the list, and Kip had worked a couple dozen events over the past year and a half.
He had received a call to see if he was available to work a fund-raiser for one of the children’s hospitals Wednesday night, a black-tie cocktail reception with some speakers at Chelsea Piers.
Kip was available, and he really needed the money. So on Wednesday, he left Straw+Berry at two o’clock with his backpack containing his wadded-up apron and ball cap, and also his black leather shoes, his black dress pants, and a few basic toiletries so he could freshen up before the high-class event.
He got off the train in Chelsea with a couple of hours to kill. The miserable February weather drove him into the nearest Starbucks, where he took his Americano to a table to sit and think about a certain NHL superstar.
He had been kind of hoping the two-week Scott Hunter drought would be enough to end this ridiculous crush. It was unlikely he would be seeing Scott on a regular basis, or at all, for much longer. One bad home game and it would be over. Or maybe Scott had already found a new good luck charm.
Anyway, the drought hadn’t ended the crush.
He had tomorrow off at his other job, but would be working Friday. Hopefully Scott would come by, if only because Kip wanted to thank him for the tickets.
When Kip was really bored, like right now at his little table in a Starbucks in Chelsea, he would let himself fantasize a bit about what it would be like to date Scott Hunter. For one thing, just having access to that body... What would all those muscles feel like under his hands? What would it be like to have the full weight of Scott covering him, pressing him into a mattress? Or against a wall...
He wondered what kissing him would be like. If Scott’s full, pink lips were as soft as they looked. He wondered how he tasted. What it would be like to run his tongue over those perfect teeth.
And what would it be like to date someone as famous as Scott? As rich as Scott. Kip couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to have that much money. Even a fraction of that much money. Hell, at the moment Kip couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be able to afford the Starbucks sandwich he had kind of wanted to order with his coffee.
He let himself daydream about going to the games as Scott’s boyfriend. Sitting in his usual seat, bursting with pride when Scott did something amazing. They would celebrate Scott’s big win at home that night. Together.
Maybe he would greet Scott at the door when he came back from a long road trip. Scott would be so happy to see him...
Kip was getting a little hot and bothered in this very public coffee shop.
He sighed and took a sip of coffee that was far too hot. The pain brought him down to earth. If you put half as much energy into finding an actual, realistic boyfriend as you do into fantasizing about a superstar millionaire who probably isn’t even interested in men, let alone you...
Kip hadn’t gotten any action in...a month? No, two months?
God, almost three months.
It was his own fault, really. He hadn’t been going out much. He used to, all the time. He’d never been in a relationship that he would call serious, but he used to love the challenge of picking guys up at bars or gyms or even grocery stores. He was naturally flirtatious, or at least he used to be. Something about being twenty-five, living with his parents, and working at a smoothie shop with nothing promising on the horizon had killed his swagger.
He took another sip of coffee that was still too hot—how?
There might be a cute guy working with him tonight. Maybe he could break this dry spell.
* * *
Scott tugged at his navy tuxedo jacket and fiddled with his cuff links. He hated these events, but wanted to use his celebrity for good, and children’s hospitals were a particular favorite cause of his.
He was scheduled to speak tonight, but he wasn’t nervous about that. He never minded public speaking, and this would only be a short speech anyway. What he hated was this: being on display for a room of wealthy, fawning donors. Making small talk with tedious people. Wearing a tuxedo. Being mindful of his every move, his every word.
He was tired. The road trip had been long and they had just gotten back this morning. It would be a challenge to stay in a good mood tonight. But he would. Because that was his job.
There was a loud din in the room of people talking and laughing. It was a sea of dark tuxes and mostly dark gowns. In one corner of the room, a trio played mellow jazz music.
He stared into his pilsner glass of beer and realized he was starving. The only food seemed to be on little trays being carried by servers wearing all black. He inched toward one, hoping to snag a shrimp or something.
The server turned, and Scott was shocked to see that it was: “Kip!”
Kip looked just as surprised. He took a step back, and the tray wobbled dangerously on his arm before he quickly grabbed it with his other hand. “Scott! Uh, I mean...”
Scott gathered himself and smiled. “Scott is fine.”
“I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
“That makes two of us.”
Kip’s eyes were stunning, set against all of the black of his uniform. He was more beautiful than Scott remembered, even.
Scott took a couple of things off Kip’s tray, just to make it less awkward. “Do you work a lot of these things?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation normal.
“A few. This one was last-minute.”
Scott nodded. He desperately tried to think of something else to ask him. But all he could think about was how soft Kip’s hair looked.
“Hey,” Kip said, “thanks again for the tickets. That was amazing, being there.”
“No problem. I’m glad you had a good time. It was nice seeing you there.”
“Oh. You saw me?”
“I nodded at you when I skated by. Kind of subtle, I guess.”
“Oh! No, I saw. I just...didn’t think it was meant for me.”
“It was,” Scott said, far too earnestly. He took a step back and cleared his throat. “Anyway...”
“You’re probably busy.”
“Right. And you’re working, obviously.”
“I’ll let you get to it.”
“All right.”
Scott placed a hand on Kip’s free arm, needing to make contact somehow. “It was nice seeing you, Kip.”
“You... Yeah, you too. I guess I’ll see you around tonight.”
Scott nodded and Kip left to serve canapés. A hand landed on Scott’s arm immediately, and he turned to talk to one of the event organizers. He felt a lot lighter than he had before.
Scott spent the rest of the evening chatting with different people, but he kept scanning the room for Kip. Their eyes met a couple of times. The first time, Scott quickly looked away, embarrassed. The second time, though, he let his gaze linger, and he was rewarded with an adorable grin from Kip that caused Scott’s stomach to flip.
Oh no, Hunter. You are in trouble.
Once Scott had given his speech and had mingled for another hour, he was desperate to get out of his tux. Out of this room.
Except...
He caught Kip as he was loading empty glasses onto a tray.
“You have to stay much later?” Scott asked.
“Another hour, maybe? Cleanup isn’t too bad this time.”
Scott smiled a little. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He just didn’t want to leave.
But he should leave. Otherwise he might say something dangerous...
Scott was a superstitious man. He believed everything happened for a reason, and it couldn’t be a coincidence that Kip was here tonight. Fate had thrown them into the same room together. It was an opportunity. Scott just didn’t know what to do with it.
“They never have enough food at these things,” he said, as casually as he could manage.
Kip looked up from the table he was clearing. “At least you got to eat something,” he said. “I’ve been carrying around trays of food I can’t eat all night. I’m starving.”
He kept his eyes on Scott’s, waiting. And Scott knew this was his moment. Right here.
“There’s a place a couple of blocks from here that has great burgers,” Scott said, still carefully. Not a direct invitation. Not yet. “It’s open late.”
“Oh?”
“I was thinking of heading there after...”
Kip stood straight up to meet Scott’s gaze. “Are you asking me to come get a burger with you?”
Scott was absurdly terrified. But goddamn, he wanted this. “Yes.”
Kip grinned, showing his dimples. “All right. I’ll meet you as soon as I’m done here. At the front doors?”
“Yeah...” It suddenly occurred to Scott that he was wearing a tuxedo, and didn’t have a change of clothing on him. “An hour, you think?”
Kip shrugged. “Maybe a little less. Maybe longer if you keep distracting me.”
“Okay!” It was all Scott could do to keep from clapping his hands together with glee. They were doing this. They were going to get a burger together. He would fix the tuxedo problem and he would let this thing happen.
He didn’t think he could get to his apartment and back here on time. No nearby clothing stores were still open, unless...
* * *
When Kip saw Scott again, he was standing near the front doors of the complex, wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt that had BROOKLYN written across the front, and a black knit hat that said NYC on it. He had a cheap-looking knapsack slung over his shoulder containing, Kip assumed, most of his tuxedo.
“I, uh, I didn’t have a change of clothes with me, so I went to a bodega that sold some touristy stuff,” Scott explained.
Dressed like he was, you almost couldn’t tell he was Scott Hunter. But Kip knew. And he knew that Scott Hunter had frantically bought souvenir clothing so he could go on a date with him.
Kip smiled. “You look good.”
He did. A little odd, perhaps, in a hoodie, navy tuxedo pants, and dress shoes, but good. Kip was pretty grubby, in the same jeans he’d worn earlier in the day and a black T-shirt he had been wearing under his uniform tonight.
He zipped up his parka before following Scott out into the cold. It was very cold.
“You must be freezing,” he said. “You sure you want to walk there?”
“I run hot,” Scott said with a grin. “I’ll be fine.”
They walked together through the quiet streets. Not a lot of people out on this frigid Wednesday night. There were a few flurries in the air, but no wind. Despite his claim of not being cold, Scott had shoved his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
“How was the road trip?” Kip asked, after spending a solid minute trying to think of something to say.
“Good! Went well. We won five of the seven games, should have won the one in San Jose, but that’s a rant you don’t want to hear.”
“You like the travel?”
“I don’t mind it. I like some cities more than others. Some cities like me more than others...”
“They’d all love you if you played for their team.”
“Maybe.”
They walked another block in silence. Kip still couldn’t believe who he was walking with. He’s just a guy. He’s just a really hot, enormous guy who’s famous and beloved and...cold.
Scott was definitely huffing a bit as they walked. And his shoulders were hunched.
“You all right?” Kip asked.
“Oh, yeah. Just...it is pretty cold.”
Kip smiled. “Yeah, okay, tough guy.” He got brave and nudged Scott a bit with his elbow.
Scott laughed and his breath came out in white clouds.
Kip swallowed. “Is the burger place close?”
“Yeah. It’s, um...oh. It’s right there.” Scott pointed across the street.
“Let’s get you inside.”
They entered and Scott smiled at Kip as the warm air hit them. Kip could not believe how beautiful he was.
They ordered at the counter (Scott paid) and sat at a table in the corner to wait for their food. The restaurant was quiet.
Kip wished he knew what was going on here. Normally when a guy invited him to get some food, or a drink, there were no doubts about where it might lead.
But this wasn’t a regular guy. And it was possible that Scott didn’t realize this seemed like a date. Maybe he was just...lonely.
How in hell could Scott Hunter be lonely?
“You live in Manhattan?” Scott asked suddenly.
“Nah. Brooklyn. Born and raised.”
“Ah. I’m from upstate. Rochester.”
Kip smiled a little. “I know.”
“Right. I, uh, I guess my life is kind of public knowledge.”
“Kind of,” Kip said, and, feeling brave, added, “but I’ll bet you have some secrets.”
Scott turned pink. It was cute. He fiddled with the straw in his soda cup until it seemed to inspire his next question. “Have you worked at Straw Plus Berry long?”
“Um, actually,” Kip said, feigning offense, “it’s pronounced Straw and Berry, so...”
Scott put up his hands and grinned. “Sorry! Didn’t mean to insult you.”
“That’s okay.” Kip sighed dramatically. “I’m sure people get your team name wrong all the time.”
Scott shook his head, still smiling. “Do you like it? Working there, I mean?”
Kip actually laughed at that. “It’s all right. I mean...no. I don’t really like it.”
“Is there something else you would rather be doing?”
“Of course! I just don’t know what that is yet. I mean, I have a history degree.”
“No kidding? I never finished college.”
Kip gave him a gentle smirk again. “I know.”
“Did you want to? Finish college, I mean?”
Scott seemed surprised by the question. “I... Yes. I did. I wanted to finish. To graduate. My mom... She would have liked that. And I enjoyed the classes. I’ve always liked learning.”
“What were you studying?”
“A little bit of everything. I couldn’t commit to a major, and I didn’t need to. The school didn’t care what I took, just as long as I performed on the ice.”
Kip felt a little sad for him. “Must be weird,” he said. “Everyone’s wanted a piece of you since you were a teenager. Probably never felt like your life was your own.”
Scott looked stunned.
Kip turned red—he’d crossed a line. “Sorry. Jesus, forget I said that, all right? I don’t even know you—”
“No!” Scott said. “That’s... It did feel like that. I don’t want to complain, obviously, but. Yeah.”
“You’re allowed to complain.”
Scott smiled at him. “I’m really not. It would get me despised by everyone.”
“Well, you can complain to me.”
The way Scott looked at him then, Kip would never forget it. If they were alone, and if he were someone else and Scott were someone else, he would have expected Scott to lunge across the table and haul him into a hungry kiss.
Instead, burgers were placed in front of them by a server and the moment was gone.
As they ate, Scott’s eyes darted around the small restaurant, and it occurred to Kip that he had never taken his winter hat off.
“Worried you’ll get recognized?” Kip asked.
“Not worried. I’m just...hoping I won’t. Not right now.” Scott picked up his burger, then put it down without taking another bite. He fiddled with his straw again.
He finally sighed, and turned his eyes up to meet Kip’s. “It’s just nice. Doing this.”
“Hanging out with someone?”
“With you.”
Kip was speechless. And Scott looked absolutely tortured. His eyes were pleading with Kip to understand him. To not make him spell it out.
“Oh,” is what Kip finally said.
Scott’s face relaxed a bit. “Um, I’m not...good at this,” he said. “It’s important to me to keep my private life private, and that’s increasingly hard to do. So I don’t ever...”
“Pick up guys?”
Scott flushed a little. Kip loved it. “Yeah.”
Kip could not believe that this thing that he had been trying not to pretend was a date was actually a date. It was unreal. But suddenly he didn’t want to eat another bite of his stupid burger. He wanted to get Scott Hunter somewhere private and let him slam Kip against a wall.
He decided to be bold.
“Is there somewhere we can go?” he asked in a low voice.
“Yeah,” Scott said, his voice huskier than it had been a second ago. His eyes a little darker.
Kip wasn’t naive. He knew what this was. Hunter wasn’t out, and he had to get his action as discreetly as possible. Nothing serious or long-term; he just needed to get off, and Kip was more than happy to help him with that. He was honored that Scott felt he could trust him to keep a secret, really.
“Let’s go,” Kip said.