That doesn’t matter now. He’s with Natalie. She makes him laugh and he misses her when he can’t see her and he’d actually rather crawl into bed with her instead of having this fight with Blake about who has it harder, like it’s some sort of competition. He shouldn’t have brought it up, Blake is drunk and Elliot is on the way there, because he decided to have a few beers with Adam after all. This conversation was never going to end well.
“I’m gonna go,” Elliot says. “Have a good season.”
Blake doesn’t reply and picks up his drink.
“What, you’re not even gonna say anything?”
It’s very Blake.
Elliot hates it. “Fine, be a fucking ass,” he says. “Drink some water,” he adds, because he can’t help himself.
He’s pretty sure that Blake scoffs at him as he walks away, but Elliot doesn’t turn around again.
#
Blake has been staring out into the darkness for so long that he can actually see the waves now, his eyes used to the dark. Out there, two people are chasing each other around the beach, both of them laughing, and a little further to his right, two people are whispering to each other, too far away for Blake to understand a word.
He wants to go home, wherever the fuck that is supposed to be. He doesn’t really have a place, because he doesn’t have a guaranteed roster spot with the Knights, but if he doesn’t fuck up during training camp, Dennis will have to find a different roommate. Blake is going to move in with Mattie for the time being and live in that little apartment he has in the basement. He hates that he doesn’t really have a place to go, not that he could drive anywhere with how many drinks he’s had. Brammer has told him from the start that there’ll be more than enough couches to sleep on, so maybe Blake should find himself one of those.
He’s mad at Elliot, though, and he doesn’t want to come across him on accident, so he stays where he is and listens to the faint sound of the crashing waves.
Elliot had to go and ask him if he was seeing anyone. After he told Blake that he had a girlfriend now. It stung a little, even though Blake wasn’t exactly surprised, because Elliot is… pretty. He has those eyelashes and that hair and he’s very nice to look at, all in all, and he’s always smiling, always nice to everyone, except when he’s being an insensitive douchebag. Anyway, Blake wasn’t surprised. Elliot is remarkably easy to love. He’s so quiet, not that he doesn’t talk, he really talks more than most other people do, but in that strange way of his that always pulled Blake in.
Blake empties his drink and decides that it was the last one.
Next to him, someone clears their throat.
“I thought you might have wandered off and drowned,” Noah says.
“Nah. I was thinking about it five minutes ago, but…”
Noah raises his eyebrows at him, like he can tell that it wasn’t just a joke. “Here,” he says and hands Blake a bottle of water. “Can I sit?”
“Sure,” Blake says, hoping this will be more pleasant than the conversation he had with Elliot.
“I wanted to, uh…” Noah clears his throat, takes a sip from his water bottle, and then stares out at the dark waves for a moment. “There’s no good way of saying this, really, and I honestly wasn’t sure if I should say anything at all, but… yeah. Anyway.” Noah shakes his head and then turns to Blake. “I know about you and Elliot.”
If Blake had to make a list of all the things he’d least like to hear another person say to him, that right there would probably be on top of the list.
Blake is frozen on the spot, doesn’t know what to do with that information, wants to know how that’s even possible, but he knows that he can’t ask any questions right now. He has to deny it, so he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do know,” Noah says, voice low. “I saw you guys together. After the Combine? I guess you thought there was no one else around, but–”
“What are you trying to do here, exactly?” Blake asks and it comes out sharper than intended, but if Noah is trying to pull some shit here, Blake needs to– Well, what does he need to do? There’s nothing he can do. If Noah wants to go and tell everyone, it’s not like Blake can stop him. All he can do is hope that no one will believe him, it’s not like he has evidence.
“No, no, I’m not… That came out wrong,” Noah says and laughs nervously. “I didn’t tell anyone. I’d never… I swear.”
“Nobody else saw?” Blake asks.
“It was just me. And I didn’t stick around too long, no worries.”
Blake tries to breathe evenly, because this is his worst nightmare right here, someone else knowing, someone he barely knows, with the power to fuck up his entire life. And Elliot’s, too, if he wanted to.
“Blake,” Noah says, and something soft has crept into his voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m saying this all wrong. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out, I wanted to tell you, because I talked to you earlier and you seem like a good guy, I like you, and I… Back then, I was just so glad that I wasn’t the only one.”
“That you weren’t– Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re…?”
“Yeah,” Noah says and winks. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“No, of course not.”
“Good.” Noah gives him a nudge. “I honestly didn’t want to freak you out and I don’t know if you and Elliot are still a thing–”
“We’re not.”
“Okay, all the better for me, because I was going to say, if you’re not, and you need, uh, a friend, you know, a friend, I’m available. Very much available.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Noah says. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be… I’m not asking for your hand in marriage here. No strings, if you’re not one for strings. Probably easier that way. But you’ll be with the Knights and I’ll be with the Mariners, so I’m assuming we’ll see each other around.”
Blake can’t do much more than gape at Noah right now.
“Think about it.” Noah pats his back. “I’m free tomorrow evening and this,” he pushes a piece of paper into Blake’s hand, “is my number.”
“Okay,” Blake says, numb.
“Okay,” Noah echoes, somehow amused. “Good talk. See you later.”
Chapter Five
Blake arrives at Mattie’s house just after noon, looking a little worse for wear. He slept well enough on a couch at Brammer’s house, but a quick glance in the rearview mirror of his car tells him that he still looks like he just rose from the grave. He stopped for a cheeseburger on the way, because he passed on the breakfast that Brammer was cooking up, whistling as he handed out cups of coffee to those who’d spent the night at the house.
He didn’t come across Noah or Elliot before he left, which he considered a blessing, but that didn’t stop his thoughts from jumping back and forth between them on the entire ride to Mattie’s.
When he rings the doorbell, he’s greeted by screaming children and excited dogs, Mattie’s wife trying to get the kids to leave Blake alone long enough that he can make it into the house. “If you don’t let Blake get to his room, he might not want to stay,” Mattie says and the girls immediately back off and offer to carry things for him.
Mattie hands him a set of keys and Blake knows the drill, has been here before, so he takes his stuff downstairs, Mattie’s kids at his heels, carrying the lightest things he had in the car, carefully setting them down on his bed, both of them beaming when he thanks them for the Welcome, Fish! banner they put in his room. They painted the Knights logo on it, the sword glittering, surrounded by extremely colorful fish.
“They worked on it for a week,” Mattie mumbles to him. “They used up all their glitter.”
He says glitter like it’s a deadly weapon.
Blake grins.
“Yeah, you’re grinning now, but you won’t be when it somehow ends up on your gear. That shit gets everywhere.”
Bla
ke unpacks, takes a quick shower and considers a nap, but decides to hang out with Mattie and catch up before he turns into a hermit. Katie makes them coffee, because she probably took one look at Blake’s face and saw how close to death he is. Mattie offers to make him something to eat, but Blake waves him off.
He found the scrap of paper with Noah’s number on it in the pocket of his jeans when he took them off earlier and now it’s downstairs in his room and he doesn’t know what to do with it, almost wants to throw it away and never think of it ever again, but part of him wants this, just one time, just to take the edge off, because it’s been just him for so long and he’s almost forgotten what it’s like to have someone else touch him, to be kissed and actually want it.
“Blake?”
“What? Sorry.”
“You have any plans for tonight?” Mattie asks. “We were gonna take the girls out for dinner at their favorite place, but you’re welcome to come with us.”
“I was actually thinking about hanging out with a friend later.”
“You have friends?” one of Mattie’s kids asks.
“Uh, yeah?”
Mattie’s shaking with laughter, trying to hide his face behind his hand. “It’s okay, kiddo, Blake will be having dinner with us a lot.”
Blake spends the next fifteen minutes discussing his favorite food with the girls and they hug him when he admits that he doesn’t like kale. Afterwards, Katie sends them upstairs to clean their rooms and Mattie tells Blake to go downstairs and take a nap.
“You kids and your parties,” Mattie mumbles good-naturedly as he sends Blake on his way.
Blake flops onto his bed, but doesn’t close his eyes right away. He grabs his phone and saves Noah’s number, then he scrolls around on Twitter for a few minutes before he goes back to his messages and sends one to Noah – I’m not driving back to LI today.
understandable, Noah replies about a minute later, and adds, dinner in the city? i live in brooklyn, meet u halfway?
Blake almost wants to ask him if that’s it, wants to ask and then what? It didn’t sound like Noah just wanted to have dinner when they talked last night, but maybe Blake is getting ahead of himself. He agrees to meeting Noah in the city at a place Noah suggests, because it’s not like Blake has spent too much time in the area.
He gets there thirty minutes early, because he must have misread the train schedule or he miscalculated something along the way, so he walks around for a bit and eventually returns to the restaurant, still five minutes early, but Noah is now waiting for him outside the door. Blake doesn’t know how to greet him, dismisses a handshake, then dismisses a hug almost as quickly, and then ends up waving, which is even worse than anything else he could have done.
Noah grins, throws an arm around him and steers him into the restaurant. They have a booth in the back, which gives them some privacy and Noah’s legs brush against Blake’s under the table as they sit down. Blake doesn’t move for a moment, keeps his eyes on Noah, who’s looking back at him, the features of his pirate Disney prince face soft in the low light.
“Order whatever you want, my treat,” Noah says. “I have recommendations if you need any.”
Blake raises his eyebrows at him. “Why are you paying?”
“Because this was my idea.”
Blake hums, because he can’t really argue with that and picks up his menu. “They have chicken parmesan.”
“A classic,” Noah says, nodding approvingly. “Best I’ve ever had, honestly.”
They both end up ordering it, talking about the upcoming season while they wait, like they’re old friends and are catching up before training camp starts for both of them. Blake was afraid that things would be awkward, that their conversation would be stilted, that he’d run out of things to say, because he always runs out of things to say, but Noah comes to his rescue every time, always has another question to ask, and so they make it through dinner without any drawn-out silences.
Noah tries to talk him into getting dessert, but Blake declines, and so Noah waves their waiter over for the check.
“So,” Noah says when they head out into the street, “that wasn’t as awkward as I thought it was gonna be.”
Blake lets out a huff that’s maybe also a laugh, relieved that he wasn’t the only one who had second thoughts.
“Listen, I don’t usually do stuff like this,” Noah says, “but you seem like a nice guy and, like, I’m about to ask you if you want to come home with me and if the answer to that is no, it’d still be cool if we could hang out again.”
Blake stares at him, wondering how he can just say stuff like that without tripping over the words.
“Too forward?”
“No, no, I mean, we were talking about this yesterday,” Blake says. Or at least Noah was talking about it. Blake was quietly freaking out as he listened.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. My ego will only be a little bit bruised and life will go on and… we’re all good.”
“Okay,” Blake says.
“Okay as in okay you want to come with me or–”
“Yeah.”
“Shit, all right, I didn’t think you were actually gonna agree to this,” Noah says. “Let’s get a cab, I’ll pay. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning, too.”
Noah holds up his fist and it takes Blake a very long moment to understand that he’s supposed to bump it. Not exactly a fist bump kind of situation, but Noah grins and hails them a cab.
#
Blake doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.
They don’t touch in the cab, they don’t touch until Noah has led him into his apartment, until the door is closed and Noah turns to him with a smile. “Can I get you anything? Glass of wine? Coffee? A snack?”
“I’m good,” Blake says.
“Okay, then, I guess we’re getting straight down to business?” Noah says and shrugs off his jacket, takes Blake’s in passing and throws them on a chair by the door. He’s back in Blake’s space a moment later, eyes on Blake, expectant. “You still okay with this?”
“Still good,” Blake says and hopes it comes out confident and not terrified. It’s been a while since he last did this and he’s scared that he’ll fuck it up somehow and then Noah Andersson, that handsome pirate Disney prince, will laugh at him. Except Noah is probably not the kind of guy who’d laugh at someone else because of that. He’s this good-looking guy who probably has people all over the league groveling at his feet just because of his last name and he’s loud and outgoing, but also surprisingly polite and generous.
When Blake leans a little closer, Noah suddenly snorts. “I’m sorry,” he says, still with a smile on his face.
Blake takes a step back. “What?”
“You…” Noah says and reaches out to reel him back in. “You have glitter on your face.”
“Oh… Mattie’s kids…”
“It’s a nice look on you,” Noah says. “Like a broody unicorn. Love it.”
“Shush,” Blake says and leans in to kiss Noah.
“Wait a second,” Noah mutters before Blake can actually do it. “So, for the record… I’m not… let’s say I’m not the most experienced guy.”
“Okay.” Blake won’t lie, it’s not what he was expecting. He knows it’s not exactly easy to get into another guy’s pants when you’re a professional hockey player, but Noah struck him as someone who has all the experience in the world.
“Just… don’t be mad if I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” Noah says.
“Are you…” Blake tilts his head, not quite sure how to say a virgin without saying a virgin. “Have you ever done this?”
“I slept with my girlfriend when I was sixteen and then pretty quickly realized that sleeping with girls wasn’t actually my thing.”
“I see,” Blake says. “Hey, if you don’t want to–”
“No, see, the whole point of this is that I want to,” Noah says and grabs a fistful of Blake’s shirt. “So, you know, give me some direction
s along the way and we’re all good.”
Blake hesitates, only for a second, because they should spend a few more minutes talking about this to make sure that they’re really on the same page. Before he can say a word, Noah smiles at him and Blake kisses him and he’s clumsy about it, but then Noah makes a soft noise against his mouth and Blake forgets about the twinge in the pit of his stomach and it’s replaced by that swooping, falling feeling, Noah’s hands on his back, lips insistent, eager.
Noah pulls him down the hall with him, into his bedroom, pushes him onto his bed, and then hovers over him, his hair messy, like Blake had his fingers in there. He doesn’t remember, maybe he did.
“Okay,” Noah says, “what now?”
“Whatever you want.”
“That’s not helpful, Blake.”
“Uh, clothes off?”
“Okay,” Noah says and pulls off his shirt with enthusiasm. “Clothes off.”
Blake snorts. Maybe this wasn’t as terrible of an idea as he initially thought.
#
“Hey, you…”
“Hey,” Elliot says and it doesn’t come out as delighted as Natalie’s greeting. He’s cooking, because he didn’t know what else to do, and it looks like Natalie brought takeout, because Elliot didn’t tell her that he was cooking. Everything’s going wrong today.
Blake was a dick to him last night. They never fought, not about anything important, it was just bickering and quickly resolved misunderstandings, but this is bigger, this one hurt. Still hurts.
“Oh,” Natalie says when she drops her takeout bags on the counter, “I didn’t know–”
Three Is The Luckiest Number Page 6