Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was raining.

Dan flew in before the team. There had been some concern by the coaching staff about it, but Dan had convinced them it was worth it. He hadn’t imparted anything about his current dilemma, but they assumed it was romantic—or sexuality—problems keeping him off his game and Dan couldn’t really correct them.

He didn’t want to blame Bobby for the drought--not totally fair given everything else Dan had going on--but he couldn’t deny that the thought of Bobby not getting why he had chosen to come out was heavy on his mind.

Bobby had agreed to meet him, sending Dan the address of a coffee shop in the area that he liked to frequent. Dan had set the map app on his phone to the postcode. He was nervous about meeting with Bobby, especially with the way they had left things.

He had a few hours to kill before then and wasn’t surprised when Kayla called him, asking to meet her for an early brunch.

Dan: I wanted to speak to Bobby first.

Kayla: My own brother, ignoring me :(

Dan: Fine. But not for long. I’m having coffee with Bobby.

Kayla: I know, he told me.

Dan was irrationally jealous that Kayla probably knew more about Bobby than he did at this point. It was stupid, it wasn’t as if Bobby didn’t know Rafael and Helena, probably talking about him and though it was difficult not to ask them what it was about, he trusted that they would tell him if there was anything he needed to know.

Still, there was only one way to find out for sure.

“So,” Kayla said, pulling him into a hug. “How are you really?”

“Terrified,” Dan said honestly. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them occupied. “It’s done now.”

Kayla fell into step beside him. He didn’t know where she was leading them, but she knew the city better than him and he trusted her to get him to the coffee shop in time to meet Bobby.

“How’s it been?” she asked.

“Don’t pretend Ian and Helena aren’t keeping you up to date,” Dan said pointedly.

“They are,” Kayla admitted, looping an arm through Dan’s. “I wanna hear it from you though.”

Dan bumped their shoulders together, leaning down to kiss Kayla’s forehead. “I hate that people are still talking about it.”

Kayla wisely didn’t mention that it had only been a few days. “They’ll get bored eventually.”

It was probably true, but Dan knew the NHL better than she did. Now they had their token gay guy they wouldn’t be dropping him until someone else chose to do the same. He decided to be honest. “You know why I did all this right?”

“Yeah,” Kayla said quietly, holding him tightly. “He does too.”

Dan shook his head. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

Kayla looked at him, took a deep breath and then shook her head, gaze dropping to the floor. “You’re meeting him later,” she said eventually. “That has to mean something, right?”

“You’d know,” Dan said immediately because he couldn’t hide his frustration.

“Dan.”

“No,” Dan said, and he wanted to pull away from Kayla, but he couldn’t, didn’t want to hurt her badly. “Do you know how frustrating it is that he talks to you, to Rafael, to Helena, but he won’t talk to me? I get cryptic answers and I fucking love him, Kayla.”

Kayla’s eyes widened. “Dan.”

Dan swallowed, untangling his arm from hers and scrubbing at his face, walking away.

“Dan!” Kayla’s heels sounded too loud on the pavement, but she was gripping his elbow, whirling him around. Dan was a hockey player; if he wanted to, it would be easy to move away. He didn’t. “It’s two weeks.”

“So?” Dan said, knowing it sounded stupid but it was the truth. “It should be stupid, right? Falling in love with a guy after two weeks. But it’s been… it’s been two weeks of …. He’s the first person I’ve ever felt like this about. Not the first person I’ve ever been attracted to, but there’s something about him, Kay.”

Kayla’s eyes were round, tongue flicking out to lick her bottom lip. She stepped closer, into his space.

“I didn’t mean to,” Dan said, voice sounding strained even to his own ears. “I didn’t want to.”

“We never want to,” Kayla said. She pulled Dan into a tight hug, didn’t let him go even when he tried to pull away. “I didn’t know, Dan. I thought it was infatuation.”

“I wouldn’t have come out,” Dan said, giving in and squeezing Kayla back just as tight, “If it was just infatuation.”

Kayla huffed out a laugh or a sob, he couldn’t tell. “You’re so stupid.”

Dan laughed, watery and high, burying his face in her neck. “Don’t I know it.”

When they pulled apart, Kayla stared him straight in the eye. “You have to tell him.”

“No.” Dan shook his head, tried to move away.

“Listen to me,” Kayla said, sounding serious. Her eyes were round, determined. “You have to tell him.”

Dan didn’t know why she was pressing. He wanted to refuse again, the idea of having to tell Bobby that he loved him was insane, made his chest tight with panic, but he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, all right.”

Kayla blew out a breath, smile spreading across her face. “Good. Now let’s grab some food and get you to Bobby.”

By the time they parted, Kayla seemed almost jubilant, grinning and nudging Dan so many times he had to ask what was in her lunch. It earned him a punch in the arm, but she calmed a little, pressing a kiss to his mouth.

“Go get him, all right?”

“Yes, Kayla,” he said dutifully, rolling his eyes. He felt a little bad about lying to her; he wasn’t sure he could do it but didn’t want to hear any more about it. “I’ll talk to you after.”

“Good.”

She left Dan alone on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. It was a little too early for Bobby to get there, so Dan texted him to say he’d be inside and went to grab a coffee and a muffin. Part of him wanted to get a drink for Bobby but he didn’t know what Bobby liked, wincing when he realized he’d just confessed to being in love and didn’t know much about Bobby at all.

Was that possible? Could you love someone you didn’t really know?

Maybe it was infatuation.

Finding a table in the corner, Dan slid into a seat, fiddling with a napkin. His phone was in front of him, just in case Bobby called to cancel. Part of him was expecting it, worried that after the build-up, Bobby just wouldn’t bother showing.

“Daniel.”

Dan jumped, eyes darting up.

Bobby looked good. He wasn’t on the ice, but he was still wearing eye-liner, wearing clothes and jewelry, so far from what Dan had assumed his type was that he was startled by it. He realized that he had just been staring dumbly at Bobby and shook his head.

“Hi, sorry.” He stood, a lot smoother than he had suspected. He didn’t know what to do, whether to hug him or hold out his hand.

Bobby smiled but Dan could see it was strained. “How have you been?”

Dan stared at his drink. “Fantastic.”

It was more sarcastic than he’d been aiming for, but it had the benefit of breaking the mood. Bobby laughed a little at him and rubbed at his eyebrows. He was cradling a drink in his hands. “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”

“It sucks,” Dan said. He thought of the media, the team, people he was coming up against on the ice. “I thought it would be hard, but I had no idea it would be so bad.”

Bobby’s eyes were warm and there was emotion there. It wasn’t pity—Dan might have punched him—but something like understanding. “You seem to be handling it well.”

Dan wanted to laugh. “I haven’t been handling it at all. I’ve been ignoring it. There’s a difference.”

Bobby winced. “Kayla said—”

“See that’s the thing,” Dan said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he cut across whatever Bobby wanted to share. “Everybody’s been talking amongst themselves about how I feel, what I’m going through, but the only person who’s actually asked me is Helena.” Dan laughed, and it sounded hysterical even to him. “Helena wasn’t even my friend before the Olympics. Ian, Kayla, Rafael. They all know me, all claim to have my best interest, but nobody’s asking me.”

There was a careful silence. When he looked up, Dan could see surprise and anger warring on Bobby’s face. The surprise was expected, the anger was not.

“I didn’t know,” Bobby said, which wasn’t an excuse, but Dan still resented the words. “They told me you were fine.”

“You didn’t ask me,” Dan said, unable to keep the accusation from his tone. He had deliberately not included Bobby in his rant, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t mad at him too. He took a sip of his drink, trying to be diplomatic about what he wanted to say next. “After the Olympics, I thought I knew what I had to do. Not because of you, but because I wanted to do it for you.”

The expression on Bobby’s face made Dan’s stomach hurt. “Dan. Why?”

“Because I—” Dan cut himself off, “because I wanted you to still want me.”

“Dan,” Bobby said, reaching over and taking Dan’s hand. “I never stopped wanting you.”

It was a relief and Dan couldn’t help but tangle their fingers together, squeezing gently.

“It hasn’t been all bad,” Dan said, after a pause. “There was this woman in the park.”

“Do you wish you’d had someone?” Bobby asked once he was done telling the story about Micah and meeting his sister.

Dan picked at his muffin, with his free hand, frowning. “I dunno. I’ve thought about it, wondered if it might have made things easier. One person doesn’t change an organization though, you know. It’s a start,” he added, at Bobby’s look. “But it’s not the end of it.”

“Yeah.” Bobby pulled back, folding his hands together and stared into his coffee. “I think I forgot how easy it was for me was because of my sport. Hockey is, and always has been, a beast I don’t know how to deal with.”

“Dating a hockey player isn’t easy,” Dan said, with a wry grin. “If I’ve learned anything from the wives and girlfriends, it’s that.”

“I can imagine it’s worth it, though.” Bobby looked almost hopeful.

Dan’s heart was racing. “I would hope so.”

Bobby’s smile was warm.

“You’ll answer your texts if I contact you now, right?”

There was a flush on Bobby’s cheeks, but he was quick to nod. “Yes. Sorry I didn’t before.”

“It’s okay,” Dan said, even if it had hurt at the time.

“I got tickets for your game,” Bobby said, tilting his chin. “Maybe you’ll pick up a point.”

Dan nodded, smirking around the lip of his coffee cup.

He had no doubt that he would be picking up more than one point just at the thought of having Bobby somewhere in the stands.