Page 34 of Role Model

Harris’s golden hair and beard were glimmering in the firelight. He was handsome, even if he was a bit goofy. Rugged in an authentic way that Troy found surprisingly appealing. He was wearing a wool-lined corduroy jacket tonight, with a button that said Ottawa Pride and a pin in the shape of a hockey stick with rainbow tape.

Harris must not have a boyfriend. If he did, Troy was sure he would have brought him, or at least mentioned him by now. Harris wouldn’t be ashamed to have his arm wrapped around a man at a party. He would probably stroke his hair and kiss him lovingly. Troy would bet Harris was absolutely disgusting in love, always touching his partner in fond, familiar ways. Smiling at them. Making them laugh.

For the past week, Troy hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how things might have been different if he’d been brave enough to come out when he’d been with Adrian. Maybe they could have been a real couple. They could have gone to parties and movie premieres and the NHL Awards together.

Would Troy ever have that with anyone? Would he ever stop being such a fucking coward and be at least as brave as his team’s social media manager? As brave as Scott Hunter, who had gotten married to the love of his life over the summer. As brave as Ryan Price, who Troy hoped was happy wherever he’d ended up.

He couldn’t imagine it. Not really. Even the idea of it made his stomach twist. His father would never speak to him again, and even though that shouldn’t bother Troy, it did. Curtis was a fucking asshole, and someone Troy probably should have cut out of his life years ago, but he was still his dad. And Troy was still scared of him.

The rest of the party, which until that point had been more enjoyable than Troy had been expecting, passed in a blur as he sank deeper into his private misery. By the time Harris asked if he wanted a drive back to the hotel, Troy was shocked by how late it was. He’d planned on leaving hours ago.

“Thanks,” he said, when he was back in the passenger seat of Harris’s truck.

“No problem. I like driving.”

“I mean, yeah. Thanks for the drive. But also for getting me to go. And making me mingle a bit. It was a good idea.”

Harris beamed at him. “I’m full of good ideas.”

Quiet music played from the truck stereo as they drove. Troy didn’t recognize the artist, but the songs were haunting and sad and not what he would expect Harris to listen to. “No country music?”

Harris chuckled. “Sometimes. I like all sorts of music.”

The conversation distracted Troy from his misery, so he kept asking questions. “Who’s this?”

“Fabian Salah. You don’t know him?”

There was a note of surprise in Harris’s question, as if he expected Troy to know who the random singer was. “Nope. It’s nice, though. Pretty.”

“He’s Ryan Price’s boyfriend.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They’ve been dating since Ryan was playing with the Guardians.”

Jesus. Troy didn’t know a fucking thing about anyone, apparently. “I had no idea.”

“Next time Fabian plays a show here, you should go. He’s amazing live. Ryan usually travels with him, which is completely adorable. They must be super in love.”

“Must be.” Troy was happy to hear it, but it was also hard to hear about anyone being in love. Still, thinking about Ryan Price—a mountain of a man who was best known for punching hockey players—dating a musician with the voice of an angel was surprising. And nice.

They reached the hotel, which was a pretty long drive from Bood’s and probably well out of Harris’s way. He was way too fucking nice.

“Have a good sleep,” Harris said. There was a note in his voice that suggested that he knew Troy wouldn’t. That Troy hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in two weeks.

“I’ll try.”

Troy found it surprisingly difficult to leave the truck. It was warm and had pretty music playing and a handsome man smiling at him. Flurries danced into the lights of the hotel parking lot outside, reminding Troy that, once he opened the door, there would be nothing but cold and loneliness.

The world felt very still for a moment. Harris was studying Troy’s face, green eyes glinting in the dim light, as if he expected Troy to say something important.

“Drive safe,” Troy said. He opened the passenger door and stepped into the world he belonged in, closing the door firmly behind him.

Chapter Eight

After a whole pile of losses, Harris decided the best way to cheer up the team, and the fans, was with a puppy.

“Thank fucking god,” Ilya said as soon as he spotted Harris and Chiron. “Bring him here.”

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