Three Is The Luckiest Number

by Catherine Cloud

  Evan hugs Angus to his chest and nods at the orange fur ball on Blake’s lap. “What’s gonna happen to them? Aunt Beth doesn’t really like cats and I don’t want to put them in a shelter, I mean, they don’t deserve that, do you think one of the neighbors–”

  “I’ll take them,” Blake says without even thinking about it. They got their first cat when Blake was three, a tabby called Cheese, and since then they’ve always had at least one or two cats, so he knows how to take care of them. He made sure he could have pets in his apartment in Newark, because he was playing with the thought of maybe getting a dog one day.

  He’ll take Angus and Squid instead. Works just as well.

  “Yeah?” Evan says. “You sure?”

  Blake scratches Squid’s head and his purrs get impossibly loud. “Yeah.”

  “Thank you,” Evan says. He hesitates, looks around. “Blake?”

  “Hm?”

  “You know what Aunt Beth said, about the house, that it belongs to us and that we need to figure out what to do with it and… I don’t know, we need to decide what to do with everything and…”

  “Yeah,” Blake says. He’s not looking forward to the part where they figure out who gets what. He doesn’t want any of it, not the money or the house or their grandma’s car.

  “I don’t want to sell the house,” Evan says, almost timid.

  Blake hadn’t even thought about selling the house, although he supposes that’s a thing that happens after somebody dies. He frowns at Evan. “You want it?”

  “It’s just… our house,” Evan mumbles. “I can have it?”

  “All yours,” Blake says.

  “You can keep your room,” Evan says, and that’s probably the nicest thing he’s ever said to Blake.

  Chapter Ten

  Blake rejoins the Knights on the road, in Raleigh.

  He tells Coach that he’s ready to play.

  Coach puts him on the bench.

  Blake gets it, was pretty much expecting it, so he lets the guys welcome him back, tries to talk to them, lets Mattie give him a hug, and lets Kells give him a hug, which is weird, because he’s pretty sure Kells only hugs people after goals and Mattie hugs the rookies when they need it.

  Blake wasn’t the only one who was relieved that Mattie recovered from his concussion and re-signed with the Knights for another two seasons. He’s backing up for Blake now, which still seems weird, but Mattie was already talking about this years ago, always believing that Blake would one day be the Knights’ starter.

  When they get back to New York, they immediately get back to it, this time with Blake in net, and they walk out of it with a win. In OT. It’s an optional practice the next morning and Blake is on the ice for it, because he did miss two games and it’s not that he feels guilty, but… maybe he does feel guilty. He knows it’s ridiculous, knows that no one’s blaming him, but he still sticks around for longer than strictly necessary with their rookie, Williamson, and their most recent call-up, Lehtinen.

  Talking to the media after the game last night was daunting, and even though no one outright asked him why he was gone for a few days, he still got questions like, “Is it hard to get back on the ice after being away from the team?” Blake answered that one with a very simple, “No,” since they’d just won a game.

  When Blake gets home after practice, he has a missed call from Noah. He hasn’t exactly been in touch, only sent Noah a quick text to tell him why he had to leave town and that he’d be in touch when he’s back.

  He’s back now.

  He still hasn’t called Noah.

  Blake calls him back, on the couch, where Squid joins him no five seconds later, meowing at him before plopping down next to him, purring before Blake has even started petting him.

  “Hey,” Noah says when he picks up.

  “I’m sorry,” Blake greets him.

  “Uhhh… what did you do?”

  “I… I don’t know, I said I was gonna call and then I didn’t.”

  “Don’t worry about it, honestly, you had… stuff… lots of stuff happening. Just wanted to ask if you want me to come over. I got out of practice like an hour ago and I don’t have plans. Figured I’d ask.”

  “I…” Blake closes his eyes. “I don’t think I’d be very good company.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s cool, Fish. But, for the record, I wasn’t, like, talking about me coming over for sex. Just… you know, I’d bring food and braid your hair and shit.”

  “Oh,” Blake says. “We don’t really do that, though.”

  The whole point of their arrangement, despite the friendship that has come out of it, is that they have someone they can get off with without risking anyone else finding out about either of them. They don’t cuddle. They don’t– They’re not boyfriends.

  “What the fuck, dude. We hang out. You know, before or after the sex. Sometimes before and after the sex. We’re friends. Sex friends, yeah, but… What kinda food do you want me to bring?”

  “Are you sure you want to come over?”

  “Do I want to drive all the way there even though I’m not getting any dick in return… Well, Blake, I think I just offered, so tell me what the fuck you want to eat and stop being an idiot.”

  Blake’s brain is capable of making that choice right now. “I…”

  “Chinese.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll text when I’m close.”

  “Thank you,” Blake says.

  They hang up and Blake stays on the couch, petting Squid. He seems to like Blake’s apartment and has found himself a spot he likes, but Angus mostly hides in the guest room and doesn’t interact with Blake. The way he brought them here probably wasn’t ideal, just put them in their carriers, put a cat tree and their litter box in the trunk, grabbed a bunch of food and here they are. He found someone to feed them while he was in Raleigh at the very last minute; a girl that Paulie recommended. He lives down the street with his girlfriend and they have a demonic tabby who’ll attack anyone who even so much as looks her way. Paulie loves her dearly.

  Blake takes a nap and when he wakes up, Squid is still next to him, also taking a nap.

  Noah rings his doorbell not too much later, carrying four bags full of Chinese food that they’ll never be able to eat, which is what Blake tells him when Noah drops them all on the living room table.

  “I figured you could use some leftovers, I don’t know… when my sister died, I didn’t really feel like cooking for… a while.”

  “Your sister died?”

  “I was twenty, it was before… We didn’t really know each other yet, so you wouldn’t know.” Noah shrugs. “Anyway.”

  “I’m sorry,” Blake says.

  Noah squeezes his wrist, then he says, “Uh… Fish?”

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s a cat, like, right there.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s Squid. He was my grandma’s, and Angus, too, and they sort of needed a place to go, so I took them with me.” Blake frowns at him. “You’re not allergic, are you?”

  “Nope, just a dog person.” Noah sits down on the couch, eyeing Squid warily. “No worries, we’ll stay out of each other’s way.” He points at Squid. “No scratchies. No attackies.”

  Blake snorts. “Weirdo.”

  “Shut up. Eat these amazing mini spring rolls I brought you. Mostly dough, minimal veggies, just the way you like them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sure.”

  “For coming over, too.”

  Noah winks at him and grabs one of the cartons, probably something with fried beef. Squid seems to be more interested in whatever Noah is eating and starts climbing into his lap.

  “Uh…”

  “Squid, come on,” Blake says and tries to lure him away, but he seems to be having an excellent time in Noah’s lap. “Guess he likes you?”

  “Orange beast, if your claws get anywhere close to the goods, I’ll take issue.”

  �
�He’ll be good,” Blake says.

  Noah huffs and starts eating his food, Squid in his lap, eyes closed. “I guess he’s okay,” Noah eventually says.

  #

  “Hey… Hey, Moo! Where do cows live?”

  “If you say Moo York, I’m gonna fucking strangle you,” Elliot mutters. He’s trying to get off his practice jersey and it got caught on his pads somewhere and now he’s wiggling around like an idiot.

  “Here,” Adam says and frees him. “But fuck you for hating on my joke.”

  Elliot huffs at him and starts pulling off his pads, putting them back with a little too much force.

  “You okay, dude?” Adam asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “You wanna go grab a bite?”

  “I’m fine,” Elliot says.

  “No offense, Moo, but, like… You’re not subtle. And you’re the happiest, sunshiniest person I know and right now you look miserable and also kinda mad and it’s unsettling, so… let’s go grab a bite. Actually, come to my house, so we can talk. I have food.”

  Elliot doesn’t say yes, because Adam is going to drag him with him anyway. He tried to keep it off the ice, but he clearly didn’t manage to keep it out of the room, and he’ll be the first one to tell his guys that it’s okay to have a bad day, but he doesn’t want to have a bad day and he’s angry at himself for– What? Allowing himself to have emotions?

  Yeah, sounds about right.

  He showers, angrily, and he gets dressed, angrily, and then they head out together and Elliot follows Adam to his place. Adam makes them steaks and veggies and they talk about their game against the Bobcats tomorrow and for a while Elliot isn’t even in that terrible of a mood. At least until Adam says, “So, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s not… It’s personal shit.”

  “Well, tell me about the personal shit. Unless it’s… Is it, like, weird sex stuff?”

  “Dude,” Elliot says. He’s pretty sure that he’s blushing; his face is on fire. “No. It’s nothing like that.”

  “So?”

  “I had a fight with Natalie last night after I got home.”

  Honestly, who picks a fight with their boyfriend when he just got home from a fucking matinee game in Boston? That they lost? And it wasn’t even close, the score was 7-1. They lost 7-1 and Natalie decided that it was a good time for a fight. Breaking news: it wasn’t.

  “What’d you do?” Adam asks through a mouthful of steak.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Elliot snaps, indignant.

  “Okay, but… What was the issue?”

  “I don’t know, she was talking about this friend of hers who got engaged the other day and I was fucking exhausted, so maybe I wasn’t really… receptive to any of that? And I guess I wasn’t excited enough? So she got mad because I wasn’t really listening and… I wasn’t, I’ll give her that, but then she sort of…”

  Adam tilts his head, clearly willing to let Elliot figure out the end of that sentence.

  “I don’t know, it happened really fast, first she was saying I never listen and it’s like I don’t even care and then suddenly it was about us and our future and… yeah. So she’s mad at me.”

  “I mean, I get exhausted after games, too, it’s not really the best time to talk about serious stuff,” Adam says with a shrug.

  “Exactly.”

  “But you also said that you weren’t listening.”

  “Because I was tired.”

  “Did you tell her that?” Adam asks, eyebrows raised, like he knows that Elliot didn’t.

  “No. I sort of figured that’d make her mad, too.”

  Adam chews on his bottom lip. “It shouldn’t. But I guess…”

  “What?”

  “No, I don’t want to, like–”

  “Just say it.”

  “Don’t be mad at me now,” Adam says, “but you kinda always tell people you’re okay and that everything’s just peachy and… I guess what I’m saying is maybe you should say when you’re not okay, and when you’re tired and shit, because then people know where they’re at.”

  “I don’t do that.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Earlier you tried to tell me that you were fine. You’re not fine, Moo.”

  Elliot takes a deep breath and silently continues to eat his steak, because maybe Adam has a point. He probably could have avoided that fight yesterday if he’d apologized and told Natalie that he was tired and pissed off because they lost that game in Boston, but the thought that he could do that didn’t actually cross his mind.

  He’s not really spending a lot of time at home either and that’s probably hard for her, and he’s been terrible about calling her on the road, because he’s been keeping an eye on Evan and their youngest rookie, who needs a little more moral support every now and then. He’s a little shy, but he seems to be okay talking to Elliot, so Elliot has been going out with the team on most nights on the road, so the kid would have someone to hang with before Elliot eventually pushed him towards other teammates.

  And then there’s that other thing that’s been bugging him for a while.

  “Adam,” Elliot says. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure?”

  “Do you tell Lou everything?”

  “Everything?”

  “I mean, like, everything about yourself?”

  “We’ve been together for years and we’re getting married, I’m pretty sure she knows me better than anyone else.”

  “No, I mean… Let’s say here’s something about you that’s not relevant to your relationship, but something that’s… sort of important. Would you tell her even though it doesn’t really matter?”

  “Dude, I think you’re gonna have to tell me what this is actually about, because I’m not following.”

  Elliot takes a deep breath. Maybe this could be a practice run for when he tells Natalie? Because he has to tell her. Eventually. He doesn’t even know why it’s so important to him. Maybe, to him, it’s something you should tell the person you love.

  “Moo.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re my best friend. You can tell me shit. All the important stuff and the stuff that doesn’t really matter.”

  Elliot nods.

  “Moo.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you kill someone or what?”

  “No, fuck.”

  “I was kidding,” Adam says, frowning. “I think.”

  Elliot stares down at his food, like it’s going to tell him what the hell to say next. The food, of course, isn’t helpful in the slightest.

  “It’s not… So, a couple of years ago, before I even got drafted, there was this guy and I… We were sort of… I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter now, because I’m with Natalie, right?”

  “There was a guy,” Adam echoes.

  Elliot can’t look at him.

  “Were you in love with that guy?”

  “I… Maybe.”

  “You’re saying maybe, but it kinda sounds like yes,” Adam says. “Anyway, regardless of… gender or whatever, it’s just another ex, right?”

  “Right,” Elliot says and it comes out sounding like a question. “We talked about our exes, but I sort of didn’t mention that one of them was… not a girl.”

  “So you feel like you’re lying to her?”

  “I guess.”

  “Then tell her?”

  “I don’t know how, though?” Elliot stabs a bit of broccoli with his fork. “It’s not like I can randomly bring it up? Oh, by the way… I’m… not… straight.”

  Adam clears his throat. “You know that I’m cool with this, right? Because you’re sort of trying to murder your food with your eyes there and that steak is already dead, so it’s not… Moo. Come on. You know I’m not homophobic or something.”

  “I’m not gay.”

  “Yeah, but you just said you’re not…”

  “Straight,” Elliot mumbles. “Yeah.”

  “Li
sten, if it really bugs you, tell her, but…” Adam shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess if knowing that changes anything, that’s her problem, not yours.”

  Elliot spears a piece of carrot. He needs to breathe. Breathe. Everything’s okay. “Yeah, I guess.”

  #

  It takes Blake actual weeks to finally call Elliot. At first he’s trying to get back into his routine and suddenly they’re hurtling towards Christmas, then the Knights go on the road and it’s not until Blake is on his own in a hotel room in Winnipeg that he finally gets around to it.

  He didn’t really want to go out with the guys, it’s fucking freezing and he’s tired, then he started looking for a movie to watch, started scrolling through Twitter and stumbled across an interview with the Ravens’ coach this morning.

  Blake isn’t sure why the hell he decides to watch it.

  It’s about the Ravens’ games against Dallas and Arizona and he’s talking about how the Ravens practically destroyed both teams on the road, then one of the reporters asks about Elliot.

  “Yes, of course, Elliot has been great for us, obviously, even if you just look at his numbers, the way he’s producing. He’s on a six-game point streak right now, and he’s had two points or more in all of them. But, you know, he’s just great to have in the room as well. Ask any of the guys and they’ll tell you that Elliot is a fantastic teammate.”

  Blake hits pause there, because all that talk of Elliot and what a great person he is reminds Blake that he’s being a terrible person, because he still hasn’t called him.

  He could do it right now.

  His phone is right there.

  Elliot doesn’t have a game tonight. It’s not that late yet.

  When he finally calls him, Blake is actually hoping that Elliot won’t answer, but he does, after the second ring, with a soft, “Hey, Blake.”

  “Hey,” Blake says. “How’s it going?”

  “Just… having a quiet night in. Give me a sec, I’ll…” There’s the murmur of a TV show or a movie in the background, some quiet mumbling, then it’s quiet and Elliot says, “How are you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah?”