Page 102 of Role Model

Troy’s heart did a little shimmy. “So do I.”

Harris beamed. “Well, okay then. We’re on a date.”

Troy smiled back at him. “Let’s do it.”

Fabian Salah knew how to put on a show. Troy had never seen anything like it. Fabian stood alone on stage, but somehow created a wall of sound all by himself using his violin, various pedals, an electric piano, a laptop and who knew what else. You could hear a pin drop in the packed club when he was singing, his voice clear and ethereal.

He was also wearing wings. Huge, black, elaborately feathered wings. And a black minidress. And gold, strappy sandals that went all the way up to his knees. And, like, a lot of makeup.

This was Ryan Price’s boyfriend. Ryan Price. One of the fiercest enforcers in NHL history. Quiet, socially awkward, enormous Ryan Price.

It was blowing Troy’s mind.

But mostly he was watching Harris, who was watching Fabian with rapt admiration. Troy understood; the music combined with the spectacle of a man performing it was pretty incredible.

And sexy as hell. There was something profoundly erotic about the entire experience, though Troy’s confused brain couldn’t quite sort out exactly what it was. Maybe it was Fabian’s confidence—his courage to present himself so openly and shamelessly. The lyrics were sexy, too. Were they about Ryan? Jesus.

In the middle of one of Fabian’s songs, Troy brushed his fingers over the back of Harris’s hand. He’d been wanting to touch him all night, and Fabian was inspiring him to be brave.

Harris smiled at him and then, suddenly, they were holding hands. A warmth seemed to radiate from their joined palms and it filled Troy’s whole body. He could do this. He could hold this man’s hand in public because he wanted to. Because Harris made him happy and Troy was so fucking tired of being miserable.

They stayed like that, fingers tangled together, for the rest of the song. They broke apart to applaud, then automatically took each other’s hand again.

After the encore, and the applause had died down, Troy tugged Harris toward him. “Thank you for inviting me. That was amazing.”

“Right? He’s, like, life changing. I can’t believe he’s a real person.”

“I can’t believe he’s dating Ryan Price.”

“I know!” Harris glanced around. “I wonder if Price is here. He usually travels with him.”

Troy glanced around too, and found Ryan near the back of the room. He was easy to spot, since he was the tallest person in the room, and had very red hair.

Troy made a decision. “I want to talk to him.”

Harris nodded. “Then you should. You want me to stay here?”

“Maybe. I won’t be long.” He locked eyes with Harris. “I’ll find you.”

“You’d better.”

Impulsively, Troy leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Then he darted away before he could see Harris’s reaction.

Ryan was standing alone when Troy approached him. He could see the exact moment Ryan recognized him, because his expression shifted from someone who was probably fantasizing about his impressive boyfriend to one of wide-eyed anxiety.

“Hey,” Troy said when he was in front of him.

“Barrett? What are you doing here?”

“I came with a friend.”

Ryan’s eyes darted around anxiously as if he expected to see Dallas Kent. “Why are you in Ottawa?”

That question surprised Troy. “I play here now.”

“Oh.” Ryan looked embarrassed. “Sorry. I don’t follow hockey too closely anymore.”

“It’s okay.” Troy tilted his head toward the now-empty stage. “Is that really your boyfriend?”

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