Page 17 of Role Model

Harris was fucking this up. Even the most basic questions were making Troy uncomfortable. Harris was usually so good at talking to people.

He decided to try a ridiculous question, to clear the tension out of the room.

“Okay. This one’s important: What’s your favorite type of apple?”

Troy’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know. Red?”

“Aw, man. Seriously?” Harris placed a hand over his heart, feigning being wounded.

“What? Not all apples are red. I like the red ones.”

“I’m offended.”

“Sorry I’m not a fucking apple expert like you.”

It was a little mean, but it was also a little...warm. Troy’s eyes once again glinted with something close to playfulness, and Harris liked it. “You’re right,” he teased back. “That was a really hard question.”

Troy almost laughed. Harris was sure of it, and for some reason his stomach flipped in anticipation.

But Troy pressed his lips together in what was probably an effort to keep any displays of amusement from escaping. His eyes still sparkled, though. “How about McIntosh? That’s an apple, right?”

Harris shook his head. “The disrespect. Unbelievable. Last question: Would you rather skate sprints for half an hour, or answer questions for five minutes?”

“Sprints. Definitely.”

Harris laughed. Probably too loudly, as usual, because Troy flinched and then quickly stood. “So, we’re done?”

“Done.”

“Okay.” Troy walked to the door, clearly keen to get out of there.

“Wait,” Harris said. Troy stopped, then looked back anxiously. Harris put a hand on Troy’s shoulder, and he heard him inhale sharply. “You still have the mic on.”

“Oh. Right.” He stood perfectly still as he let Harris remove it, which Harris did quickly with as little contact as possible. He could smell the woodsy aroma of Troy’s aftershave, or probably his bodywash since the shadow on this jaw suggested that he hadn’t shaved that morning.

“Good to go,” Harris announced cheerfully, holding up the mic. He took a giant step backward, needing to put some distance between them before Harris did something stupid like sniff Troy’s neck. “You, uh, you might want to make sure you have noise-canceling headphones,” Harris said. “For the flight. Those guys are pretty lively on the plane.”

“You’ve flown with the team?”

“A few times. I usually go on a road trip or two each year to document stuff. It makes for fun content. I’m going on the trip south in January. There’s a day off in Tampa, so it should be fun.”

“Oh. Cool.” It didn’t sound like Troy thought it was actually cool that Harris would be on the team plane. He tried not to feel offended.

“Thanks for doing this,” he said. “I’ll let you know when I post it.”

Troy nodded once, and then he was gone.

Chapter Five

Troy didn’t know what was causing the loud banging noise, but he really needed it to stop. Gradually, he became aware that he was in a Vancouver hotel room, and that the banging was on his door. He groaned and pulled a pillow over his throbbing head, hoping the person would go away.

The person did not go away.

“Barrett. Wake up.” The voice was unmistakably Rozanov’s.

“What is it?” Troy’s voice sounded like it had been sanded down to nothing. He tried to clear his bone-dry throat and said again, “What?”

“Open the door.”

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