Page 25 of Role Model

Truthfully, he was getting tired of looking. He wanted to have someone to bring to family dinners and cuddle up with at home later. He blamed the yearnings on his habit of spending too much time with NHL players in their twenties who were married with kids. He should probably make an effort to hang out with his other friends. His non-millionaire, normal friends. His queer friends, for sure. When was the last time he’d gone dancing? Or just met a bunch of friends for drinks at a gay bar, or karaoke? He used to be on a trivia team. Now he was obsessed with his job, and that job didn’t have regular hours.

The dinner remained lively until the last bite of apple crisp, with everyone talking over each other as usual. Harris had been uncharacteristically quiet for most of it, his mind stuck on the possibility that he’d let his job consume his whole life. He really didn’t get paid enough for that.

When he was leaving, Harris’s parents both hugged him like they weren’t going to see him again for months instead of days. The dogs jumped on him, as if trying to stop him from going.

“Take care of yourself,” Mom said. “And tell Ilya Rozanov I said hi.”

Harris laughed. Mom had met Ilya at a team fundraiser and Ilya had flirted shamelessly with her. “I will.”

“And you’ll call the doctor if anything feels...off, right?” Dad said.

Harris swallowed to contain the frustration that flared inside him. He’d been dealing with his busted heart his whole life, and he’d always been careful. “Of course I will. You know I will.” He forced a laugh to cover his annoyance. “Don’t worry so much.”

Dad smiled sadly. “Can’t help it. Sorry.”

That took away Harris’s annoyance in a hurry. “Love you guys. See you next week. Keep Mac out of trouble, all right?”

“Keep Troy Barrett out of trouble,” Dad joked.

Harris turned away before Dad could see him blushing. “I’ll do my best.”

Chapter Seven

The day after the team had returned from their trip, Troy received an unexpected text message.

Wyatt: BBQ at Bood’s tonight. You should come.

The address followed.

Barbecue? The fuck? It was snowing outside. Not a lot but, like, more than the amount that would suggest it was barbecue season.

Troy: Is everyone going?

Wyatt: Most of the guys, probably. And partners. Bood and Cassie are great hosts.

Troy was not at all in the right headspace for a team party. He was surprised his teammates were either, given the fact that this team fucking sucked. Maybe you got used to sucking when you played for Ottawa and just made the most of things.

Troy: Maybe.

Wyatt: Do you need a ride? Harris said he’s going there straight from the arena so he could probably drive you.

Wait. Harris was going? The social media guy? This team was so weird.

Not that Troy couldn’t see why Harris might be invited. He was...nice. Kind of annoying. Definitely too loud. Laughed too much. Smelled like apples, but that was probably Troy’s imagination because it made no damn sense. Except when he’d been in Troy’s personal space, removing that microphone after the interview, Troy could have sworn he got a whiff of something sweet and mouth-watering.

Wyatt: I’ll get Harris to text you. Bring beer.

Troy: I didn’t say yes.

Wyatt: Get out of that hotel room, Barrett. Get to know your teammates.

Troy scrunched his nose. There was nothing wrong with his hotel room. He was, at the moment, lounging on a perfectly comfy bed. He had plenty of things to do tonight, like staring blankly out the window until he mustered up the energy to jerk off.

Harris texted him within twenty minutes. Wyatt said you needed a ride tonight?

Troy: No.

He didn’t need a ride. He drove his car here from Toronto instead of flying specifically so he’d have a car here. And because he’d felt like driving at the time and also getting the fuck out of Toronto as soon as possible.

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