Chapter Three

Bobby Lake was gorgeous.

Dan was no stranger to his feelings or to his attractions. He knew where his preferences lay and despite numerous attempts to ignore them or will them away, nothing had changed.

Bobby’s eyes ran over each of them, but he paused when he looked at Dan. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

It was rude; Dan was standing with four other people, but Dan couldn’t deny that the attention made him feel good. It wasn’t often someone saw Dan and Ian side by side and approached Dan first. Smiling widely, Dan held out his hand, impressed when Bobby’s grip was strong. His eyes were brown. Really, really brown. “Daniel. Uh, Dan.”

Bobby smiling was so much worse for Dan than staring into his eyes. Heart skipping a bit, Dan swallowed hard and pulled back his hand. Bobby’s smile didn’t dip. “Biscuit, you didn’t tell me you were bringing me new friends.”

Helena laughed gently. “I just met Dan a little while ago, Bobby. We’re not friends.”

“Oh?” Bobby looked intrigued, though Dan noted it took him a long time to tear his eyes away from Dan and over to Helena.

Ian elbowed Dan once Bobby’s attention was occupied with Helena, his eyebrows raised, and Dan shrugged. It wasn’t his fault that Bobby hadn’t introduced himself to Ian first and foremost.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Ian muttered, frown still in place.

“Though Rafael I do know,” Bobby was saying, eyes drifting over to Dan’s teammate. “Aren’t you off playing hockey somewhere?”

Rafael snorted. “You know full well I’m playing in Manhattan. We saw each other last weekend, idiot.”

Bobby grinned, and Dan felt heat pool in his stomach. He had much better control than he was displaying, and he had to find it quick if he didn’t want to have to explain to Rafael and Ian why Bobby made him want to swallow his tongue.

With a backslapping hug and Bobby finally introducing himself to Ian, Dan had almost forgotten why they were meeting with Bobby in the first place. Then Helena stepped up next to him, slipping an arm through his and grinning up at him. Dan didn’t like strangers touching him as a rule, and he explained away his ease with the situation as a by-product of Bobby’s presence.

Get a grip, Matthews.

“Dan is antsy for a skate,” Helena said, wiggling her eyebrows. Why was she doing that? “You owe me, and I thought you could use your masterful touch to get him some ice time.”

Bobby’s eyes were back on Dan again—oh, God—and he tapped his chin thoughtfully. Did people still do that in the 21st century? Dan felt hideously out of his depth. He was twenty-three years old. He shouldn’t be turning to literal goo at a guy’s eyes and smile.

“You’re not a figure skater like your sister,” Bobby said, and Dan was surprised. Bobby knew who he was? “You’re with Rafael, which means you’re—unfortunately—a hockey player.”

“I like hockey,” Dan said immediately irritated.

Bobby held up his hands. “Not a slight. Hockey players are notoriously straight.”

Dan’s eyebrows shot up in a surprise. A quick look at Rafael revealed exasperation and amusement rather than disgust, and even Ian was rolling his eyes. Dan didn’t understand what was happening. “And you’re,” he paused, looking from Helena to Simon to Bobby, “not?”

“Daniel,” Bobby said gently, eyes shining with mirth, and Dan really didn’t want to analyze his feelings at being called Daniel. “I haven’t been straight for decades.”

“Oh.”

Rafael sighed, clapping Dan on the back. “Bobby knows what the league is like. He’ll only be a little offended if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Dan lied. His discomfort had nothing to do with homophobia and everything to do with Bobby, but when he was regarded with skepticism from both his teammate and his brother, he scowled. “I’m not homophobic.”

It was hilarious when he considered it—Daniel Matthews, gay hockey player, being offended by someone being bisexual.

“Bobby can fuck whoever he wants.” Being crass was a hockey player trait, so Dan fell back on old locker room habits, and Helena wrinkled her nose enough that Dan was sure he’d nailed it.

“You can say date you know, Dan, nobody’s gonna faint if a hockey player’s respectful.”

“No, he’s right,” Rafael said. “Bobby doesn’t date.”

Bobby shrugged, unapologetic. He was looking at Dan with an interested furrow to his brow, but Dan didn’t know what it was that he’d said that intrigued Bobby so much.

Please stop looking at me.

When Bobby didn’t say anything or look away, Dan shifted on his feet. “I’m not homophobic,” he offered because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“No,” Bobby said slowly, a smile growing a little more. “I don’t suppose you are.”

Dan was still trying to figure out what that meant when Bobby gestured at the table behind him, the rest of Bobby’s group had cleared out.

“Care to join me for a drink? I can make a call and see about getting you some ice time.”

Dan shrugged, helpless, as everyone took a seat at the wooden table. Ian cupped his elbow, tugging him a little way away.

“The more you tell him you’re homophobic, the more he’ll think you are.”

“I’m not,” Dan protested. “He doesn’t seem to have a problem with me.”

“I know,” Ian said vehemently, sending a dark look Bobby’s way. Dan had no idea what his problem was, but he wrenched his arm out of Ian’s grip and shifted his stance. It was rare that he took what Kayla liked to call his “big brother looming,” but it came in handy occasionally. “I can take care of myself, Ian.”

Ian sighed, rubbing a thumb over his forehead. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. Just, be careful, yeah?”

“I always am,” Dan assured him.

The expression on Ian’s face wasn’t certain, and though he refused to acknowledge it, Dan had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that Bobby was going to make being careful very difficult.