Page 57 of Role Model

Harris didn’t see anything but those eyes. And those lips. “Perfect.”

He swore Troy had started blushing before he’d quickly turned toward Ilya. Chiron trotted after him, tail wagging.

“I hate you for this,” Troy grumbled to Ilya.

“I don’t think you do. Now look cute for Gen and Harris.”

Jesus, Troy was blushing. And smiling. And elbowing Ilya playfully. Who was this guy?

They took a bunch of photos of the two men standing together, holding the puppy between them. They looked like an absurdly attractive couple, but Harris kept that to himself. Troy smiled for the camera, and even laughed a few times, thanks to Ilya. It was nice to see the two of them getting along. They must have bonded on their recent road trip.

Ilya handed Chiron to Troy and said, “Take some photos with just Troy, yes?”

Harris wasn’t sure they needed those, but Ilya was already pulling off his Santa hat and sweater, and Troy did look irresistibly silly.

Ilya squeezed Troy’s shoulder before he walked away, which made Troy blush again for some reason. Then Ilya tossed his hat and sweater on the table and left quickly. It was kind of strange, the sudden departure, but Ilya was generally strange.

Without Ilya there to tease him, Troy’s face fell into its usual blank stare, which looked hilarious set against an elf hat, a loud sweater, and a puppy. Harris couldn’t wait to see the photos later.

“Okay,” Gen said. “I think we’re good.”

Troy carefully set Chiron on the floor, then removed his costume pieces. “Those were probably terrible photos. Sorry.”

“They’re great,” Gen said as she scrolled back through the images she’d captured on her camera. Harris could tell she was barely suppressing a giggle. “Very festive.”

Harris took Troy’s sweater and hat from him. “Thanks for helping out.”

“No problem. Um. Does Chiron need a walk?”

Chiron let out a happy bark at the word walk. Harris laughed. “Sounds like it. You want to take him?”

“Sure. Can you come too? Or if you’re busy I could—”

“I’m not busy. Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I can clean up here,” Gen said. “You boys go on your walk.”

It was a blatant attempt to get Harris and Troy alone together, and Harris tried to shoot daggers at her but probably failed because he’d never shot daggers at anyone in his life. “You sure?”

“Oh, I’m definitely sure.” Gen seemed to be under the ridiculous assumption that Harris’s weird friendship with Troy was going to blossom into something more. As if Harris could turn the head of an NHL player.

“I’ll get my jacket,” Troy said. “And, uh, my pants.”

“Probably a good idea,” Gen said. “It’s December.”

Troy walked quickly out of the room, and Harris rounded on Gen. “What the hell, dude?”

“What?”

“Why not just wear a T-shirt that says Harris is into you?”

“Oh, come on. He’s a hockey player. He doesn’t pick up on stuff like that.”

“He’s smart!”

She made a face that said is he, though?

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