Page 3 of Goaltender Interference

Aiden went running.

The thing was. He couldn’t outrun the past.

The doorbell rang.

Aiden checked his phone and sighed. There was Gabe, on his stoop, arms folded over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently. Against his better judgment, Aiden slipped on a pair of shorts and went downstairs to answer it. He had the feeling that if he didn’t, Gabe would still be there hours later. He was stubborn that way.

When Aiden opened the door, Gabe’s face visibly brightened. “Soupy! You’re alive!”

“Still breathing, anyway. What are you doing here, Gabe?”

“Well...” Gabe trailed off and chewed on his lower lip. “I was worried about you. You haven’t really been answering anyone in the group chat.”

“It’s because I’m not on the team anymore.”

“Well, yeah,technically, but you’re still there inspirit.”

Aiden had never felt as old as he did in that moment. “Thanks, Gabe, I appreciate it. I’m fine, though, you don’t have to worry.”

Gabe was already pushing past him, and Aiden didn’t fight back. He allowed himself to be gently bodied aside. Sighing, he followed the kid into his own home and closed the door behind them. It was difficult to say no to Gabriel Walker, mostly because he always refused to accept no for an answer. Because he neverhadanyone have to tell him no.

Over his last season, Aiden had been for Gabe what Aiden’s own mentor, Derek Ward, had been for him almost two decadesago. Before Aiden’s retirement, he and Gabe had a good tandem going. No hard feelings on Aiden’s part when Gabe took over the crease. The experience of mentoring another goalie had been challenging but rewarding, especially as he started to see the tangible results; watch Gabe grow in confidence and ease in front of the net.

Gabe didn’t remind Aiden of himself at that age in anything except his level of play. Talented, driven, competitive, twenty-two years old, his whole future ahead of him. Gabe was all of those things. He was handsome, with his huge brown eyes and the kind of mouth and eyelashes that some people paid good money to obtain. Gabe was cheerful, goofy, a little arrogant, and one of the first openly gay prospects taken in the first round of the entry draft. Hewasthe first openly gay prospect to play a major league game.

There were a few conversations they’d had early on that Aiden obviously hadn’t been able to with Ward. Mostly about being gay and a minority in a sport that was very straight and very white. Aiden’s mother had immigrated to Manitoba from Gujarat, and Gabe was a Black kid from Scarborough, but they had more in common than anyone probably would’ve guessed considering the disparity of their backgrounds.

Gabe had a chip on his shoulder the size of Nunavut when he’d come up, ready to fight anyone who looked at him wrong, even if they were a teammate. It had been on Aiden to tell him that wasn’t necessaryherebecause the team was already used to it. And that neither Aiden nor Isaac Pearson, the Libs’ captain and official You Can Play Ambassador, would tolerate any shitty behavior from the team, on the ice or off it.

Gabe had stared at him for a very long time and said, “You?Really?”

Aiden hadn’t really known how to answer that.

Aiden envied Gabe, the certainty and confidence he had at such a young age. Even though everyone on the team knew Aiden was queernow, he hadn’t ever come out to the general public. He couldn’t see himself doing it, either. It still felt uncomfortable, having eyes on him for things that weren’t related to hockey. Even when he didn’t play hockey anymore. But Gabe had never seemed to give a shit who looked at him, or why.

Gabe, frowning at Aiden, stood in his space. “But I’m serious, Soupy, I’m really worried about you, you know?”

“You don’t have to be. I’m enjoying retirement.”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m sitting.”

Aiden just looked at him, level and expressionless.

“Comeonnn, Soupy,” Gabe said, cajoling. “Come out with me tonight? You can let yourself have fun for at least one day, and then you can go back to hibernating by yourself in here, or wearing your hair shirt, or whatever it is you’re doing, okay? I just think it’ll be good for you to get out of the house.”

Gabe’s hand rested on Aiden’s arm, and he looked up at Aiden with big, pleading brown eyes. Aiden had to shake his head to clear his vision, assaulted, suddenly, with a memory he hadn’t thought about for years. It was such a strong image that he almost felt like he had to sit down.

“Soup?” Gabe did sound really worried now. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Aiden said. His voice sounded hoarse, rusty with emotion or disuse. “I’m fine. You want to go out? Fine. I’m yours for the night.”

Gabe smiled and pressed his fingers against Aiden’s arm again. “Good. You won’t regret it.”

Aiden regretted it immediately.

They ended up at a dive bar not far from Aiden’s house, and Gabe kept ordering shots, which Aiden felt obliged to drink, and which he felt obliged to either match or pay for,because Gabe was on the last year of his ELC and Aiden was a multimillionaire.

Gabe set yet another round in front of him. “There you go, Soupy.”

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