Three Is The Luckiest Number

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Three Is The Luckiest Number Page 24

by Catherine Cloud


  Adam’s silence is somehow judgmental. “Tell me if you change your mind,” he finally says. “I can find her.”

  Elliot doesn’t doubt that Adam could find her. If she was an actual person that existed.

  #

  Blake goes home, feeds Squid and Angus, who are both waiting for him by the door, judging him on his walk of shame down the hallway. He takes off the sweater and he takes off the jeans, but he leaves on the shirt Elliot gave him this morning, and pulls on a pair of sweatpants.

  He gets a premade meal out of the freezer and gets it cooking, then he texts Noah and asks him to call him when he has a minute. Afterwards he replies to Charlie and tells him he doesn’t need to pay for his cab, that he stayed at a friend’s place and took the train back today.

  Charlie replies almost instantly: ill pay for the train then :) sorry i talked u into coming last night, I kno u didnt rly want to go.

  Blake tells him not to worry about it, but doesn’t see Charlie’s reply, because Noah calls him and greets him with a cheerful, “Tell me you miss me, babe.”

  “That your girl, Noah?” someone asks.

  “No, it’s Blake Samuels.”

  The someone in the background laughs.

  “Really?” Blake says.

  Noah cackles. “Sorry. You know me, I love to tease and my buddy Phil just can’t stop asking stupid questions.”

  “Hey,” says Phil. Presumably.

  There’s some mumbling, then Noah says, “He left.”

  “You didn’t have to kick him out,” Blake says.

  “No, I did, it’s my room and I’m guessing whatever you want to talk about several hours after midnight on New Year’s Eve when all the kissing happens isn’t meant for anyone else’s ears.”

  Blake huffs.

  “Who’d you kiss?”

  “I’m an idiot,” Blake says.

  “Wow, okay, sure, let’s start that way, then,” Noah says. “Tell me more, Fishy.”

  Blake tells him. Everything. Not every single detail, of course, and he mostly focuses on the conversation he had with Elliot this morning, not on what happened last night. Noah hums every now and then, probably in agreement, which seems strange because Blake thought Noah might agree that he’s an idiot.

  He finishes with, “And now we’ll pretend that we’re just friends. I’m sure that’ll work out great.”

  “No, but…” Noah hums again. “What you did there… That was a smart choice. Because if you get involved with him and fall in love with him, and I mean more than you already are, and he decides that he’s had enough, it’ll…”

  “Yeah,” Blake says. Noah doesn’t have to finish.

  “Take it from someone who’s sleeping with a guy who can’t even admit he’s gay… you don’t need that bullshit in your life.”

  “Dude, you okay?” Blake says, because Noah doesn’t sound okay.

  “No, not really, but… I don’t know. I don’t wanna talk too much about it, because I obviously can’t let you figure out who he is, so… Anyway, Fishy, I’m glad that one of us is making reasonable choices instead of constantly running back to a guy who breaks your heart over and over again.”

  “Noah–”

  “No, let’s not even talk about it. I know you didn’t think I’d turn out to be the bigger idiot here, but I am. I totally am. And it’s totally a competition. I won.”

  “I’m sorry you won,” Blake says.

  “Yeah, it’s… I should tell him not to call me anymore. Or maybe I should stop answering the phone when he calls. I’m the master of my own misery, babe,” Noah says. “You and Cowell will figure things out, though.”

  “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

  Noah laughs. “Is it working?”

  “Not really.”

  “Aw, damn.”

  “It’s just…” Blake trails off when Squid jumps into his lap, purring as he rolls up into a big orange ball.

  “It’s just what?”

  “What if he decides that his career is more important? Or that he doesn’t want to do long distance?”

  “Long distance? You live as close to him as you possibly can without being on the same team. You hit the fucking jackpot.”

  “You know what I mean,” Blake grumbles.

  “Yeah, I know. But you and I made it work.”

  “We weren’t boyfriends, though.”

  “Wow, way to rub it in.”

  “Sorry,” Blake says. That one’s probably overdue. “Really, I’m sorry I hurt you, I honestly didn’t–”

  “Blake,” Noah interrupts, “I’m just teasing. That’s ancient history. It’s not like you forced me to have feelings for you. They just sort of happened. I got out of there, because sometimes I do make smart choices. We’re all good, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good talk,” Noah says. “Back to your bullshit. If he decides that hockey is more important, then… maybe you dodged a bullet. I don’t know. Blake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You deserve someone who loves you more than anything else in the world. Even more than hockey.”

  Blake isn’t sure what to say to that, so he mumbles, “Thank you.” It comes out sounding like a question.

  “You’re welcome, babe. I– Give me one second, someone’s knocking.”

  Blake hears parts of a conversation about dinner, Noah calls someone a dipshit, something about the Emperor of Austria, some mumbling, then, “Hurry the fuck up.”

  When Noah gets back on the phone, he says, “The guys wanna head out for dinner, can I leave you or do you need more emotional support?”

  “I’m okay,” Blake says. “Thanks for calling.”

  “Always, boo. Always.”

  “Have fun with the guys.”

  “Thank you. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  Blake hangs up, replies to Charlie and goes to his conversation with Elliot. They haven’t actually sent texts back and forth during the last three days. Nothing would really indicate that everything changed last night.

  Hi, Blake types.

  He deletes it.

  Hey, he tries next.

  Deletes it.

  He looks down at Squid. “I don’t care what Noah says, I am an idiot.”

  Squid looks up at him, blinks, and then goes back to sleep.

  “Not helpful,” Blake mumbles. “Angus… Hey, Angus, buddy…”

  Angus, on the other end of the couch, is looking at him like, What, me?

  “Come here,” Blake says and wiggles his fingers at him. “Come here… that’s a good kitty… the best…”

  Angus comes over slowly, lets Blake scratch his head, and then makes himself comfortable on a pillow next to Blake, which is great, because now Blake can snap a picture of him.

  He sends it to Elliot and says, Angus says hi :)

  Elliot sends back a bunch of hearts and says, pet him for me.

  “You’re the best cat,” Blake says as he gives Angus a pat. Then he does the same with Squid. “And you are the best cat, too.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Blake gets invited to the All Star Game that season.

  “You got too many shutouts, it was inevitable,” Charlie says when they announce the roster.

  Elliot is going, too, because of course he is. So is Noah, because… yeah. That’s just how Blake’s life is going these days.

  He and Elliot talk. Not a lot. Blake sends pictures of the cats when he misses talking to him, and Elliot sends pictures of his food. They won’t play against each other again until the middle of February and Blake isn’t even close to New York for two weeks while they’re in the West. His cat sitter sends him pictures of the boys, so Blake still has something to send to Elliot, other than photos of palm trees and cacti.

  Blake plays against Evan on the road. Evan doesn’t score on him and Charlie nearly murders Evan when he nudges Blake after another scoring attempt.

  “Call off your dog, dude,” Evan shouts.

  Blak
e doesn’t, because Charlie probably wouldn’t actually punch Blake’s brother in the face. They go out for drinks after and Charlie buys the first round and ten minutes later he and Evan are telling each other jokes, Blake sitting between them in silence, thinking he should have probably seen it coming, wondering why he didn’t prevent it.

  A bunch of girls join them at their table, one of them basically in Evan’s lap, and he eventually excuses himself, gives Blake a hug before he goes, and Blake and Charlie wander back to their hotel for curfew.

  “Your brother is a bit of a ladies man, huh?” Charlie says.

  “I guess. We… don’t really talk about that stuff.”

  “Oh…” Charlie stubbornly stares straight ahead, which probably means that he has something else to say that’s currently working its way to the surface. “I still don’t know how they all do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Meet girls,” Charlie says. “Do they just walk up to them and talk to them?”

  “Uh…”

  “How do you do it?” Charlie asks.

  “I don’t really…” Blake shrugs. He talks to girls because he doesn’t want to be rude, but that obviously never goes anywhere. “I was in a relationship a while ago and… I don’t really want to get back into one right now.” It’s not a total lie, because he and Elliot technically were in a relationship, and he and Noah technically were also in some sort of relationship, although it’s likely not what Charlie is imagining now.

  “Oh, sorry,” Charlie says.

  “You know, I’m sure the guys wouldn’t mind helping you out,” Blake says. Brammer loves to play Cupid; he’d be delighted.

  Charlie ducks his head. “I don’t wanna ask, they’re gonna be mean about it.”

  Blake gets it. He was surprised when Charlie asked him to come to that New Year’s party with him. Stuff like that leads to excessive chirping when you ask the wrong guy.

  He wouldn’t, especially not when it’s a guy like Charlie, who looks genuinely hurt when the guys are getting a little too mean in the locker room and blushes when their resident innuendo squad is having a field day. Charlie’s great, though. In the room and in front of Blake on the ice.

  When Blake is on the bench for the second half of back-to-back games, Charlie is in front of him in the tunnel and holds out his hand.

  Blake bumps it with his blocker and Charlie laughs.

  “Oh, wait… So Mattie and I hold hands when we go out. We started doing it like a week ago and I’ve been having really good games and…” Charlie’s cheeks turn pink. “You don’t have to.”

  Blake holds out his catching glove and Charlie curls his gloved fingers into it.

  Charlie scores a goal and gets two assists and then happily tells the media that it was because Blake held his hand before warm-ups when they all crowd around him after the game. Blake listens to the interview with half an ear, hears one of the reporters asking if Charlie has had an easy time adjusting to a new locker room.

  The answer that follows is basically just Charlie going on and on about how kind Blake was to him when he first came into town and how easy he made it for him. “My only complaint is that he didn’t keep the guys from giving me ridiculous nicknames,” Charlie finishes and Blake chucks a ball of tape at him.

  Things are good for the Knights before the All Star break, they’re second in their division, which is great, considering their season started with an onslaught of injuries, but they’re all back now and Paulie’s going to the All Star Game with Blake.

  He gets a lot of questions about it before he leaves, how it feels to be going, who he wants to play with. He says Josh Roy, who’ll be one of the captains, and it’s met by surprise. They probably thought he’d say that it’ll be an honor to play with every single player who got invited, which he does add, because that’s the expectation here and PR will thank him for it later.

  The day before he and Paulie fly to Seattle, where the Sailors are hosting the game, Elliot sends him a text, just see you tomorrow and a variety of smiley faces.

  Blake forgets to reply because Squid tries to eat his dinner and Blake has to shoo him off the table.

  #

  Elliot doesn’t deserve a spot at the All Star Game, even though it’s his numbers that count here, and his numbers are consistent. He’s on pace for more goals than he had last season, but it’s strange to go when his team has been struggling, especially during the last four weeks. They’re not even in a playoff spot right now.

  He texts Blake the day before he flies to Seattle, but Blake doesn’t reply. He’s probably just busy. Or maybe he’d rather not see Elliot tomorrow, maybe he wishes the All Star Game wasn’t forcing them into the same place. Elliot was hoping that he’d get to play with Blake instead of against him for once.

  He says hello to Blake when he sees him. Blake says hello to him. He smiles a little. Just the tiniest bit. Could be worse. He could be glaring.

  Blake gets drafted before Elliot, to Josh Roy’s team, and they pick Elliot, too, two rounds later.

  After, Josh Roy is talking to Blake, joking around, saying he only picked Blake because he heard that Blake really wanted to play with him, and Blake’s face goes red and Josh laughs and claps his back, turning to Noah Andersson, who’s excellent on the ice, and loud-mouthed off it. Elliot doesn’t know if he likes him, but when they’re all gathered for drinks afterwards, Noah doesn’t keep Elliot from going over to Blake, who’s talking to Noah, laughing at something he’s saying.

  Elliot doesn’t like that someone else is making Blake laugh like that.

  “Oh, look, Elliot Cowell,” Noah says, “to what do we owe the honor?”

  “Hey,” Elliot says.

  “Hi,” Blake replies.

  “I think I’ll, uh…” Noah trails off when the Eagles’ Morgan Boyle joins them as well and Blake ends up signing a hockey card for Morgan’s brother and promises to get him a stick after the game.

  Elliot doesn’t know much about Morgan, only that the media’s always giving him a hard time. He’s a quiet guy, but he always plays by the rules, which Elliot appreciates. Their conversation quickly derails into all of them showing each other pictures of their pets, then Morgan and Noah finally leave Elliot alone with Blake. Noah winks at Blake before he goes.

  “He’s so…” Elliot starts, but trails off when Blake raises his eyebrows at him. “How are you?”

  “I’m all right,” Blake says. “You?”

  “All good,” Elliot says. “Nice to be on the same team again. It’s been a while.”

  “Yeah.”

  Elliot smiles.

  “Stop it,” Blake mumbles.

  “What?”

  “You’re smiling.”

  “And I’m not allowed to smile?” Elliot asks.

  “No,” Blake says and he looks very serious about it.

  Elliot ducks his head. “Fine, I’ll go smile somewhere else.”

  Blake rolls his eyes, just when his fellow goaltender, Flynn Jacobi from the Colorado Hawks comes into view and puts an arm around him.

  “Samuels, how’s it going?”

  Elliot excuses himself, because he really can’t stand here and listen to Blake and Jacobi talk about goalie shit, and finds someone else to talk to. He ends up standing with Morgan Boyle again, talking about the season so far. And maybe Morgan’s a little serious, speaks very softly and doesn’t easily crack a smile, but Elliot quickly realizes that it’s nothing personal, it’s just the way he talks. Like he’s cautious, trying not to offend anyone.

  Some of the guys come over to them, always talking to Elliot first, nodding at Morgan second and Elliot tries to keep him in those conversations, throws a few questions his way, so he won’t just awkwardly hover next to them.

  When the guys slowly start to disperse, Morgan says, “I’ll head back to my room. It was nice talking to you, Elliot.”

  Elliot decides to head back as well, looking around to find Blake before he leaves but he’s apparently gone already
or hiding somewhere. His phone is heavy in his pocket. The last time he sent Blake a text, he didn’t even reply, and maybe he’s already asleep.

  He looks at his phone.

  He shouldn’t text him. Because they’re giving each other a break. And Elliot’s stomach still turns when he thinks about telling more people that he’s not straight, his heartbeat still becomes unsteady when he imagines someone finding out, so he can’t in all honesty say that he’s made up his mind about what he wants to do.

  But he wants to see Blake.

  He still shouldn’t text him.

  Elliot grabs his phone.

  you wanna hang out? he asks, and quickly adds, it’s ok if you say no.

  #

  Blake almost doesn’t check his phone when it buzzes. He’s changing into his pajamas, doing a terrible job at brushing his teeth as he pulls up his pants.

  His phone buzzes again.

  He’s sort of expecting Noah to chirp him about something when he finally grabs his phone, but then finds two texts from Elliot, asking if he wants to hang out in the first one, saying it’s okay if Blake says no in the second.

  Blake sighs.

  He should say no.

  He sends Elliot his room number instead.

  Then he pulls on a shirt. He doesn’t usually sleep in one when it’s just him, but it seems like a good idea. Because they’re really only hanging out. Nothing else. Blake will stick with that, anything else will make things more complicated.

  Elliot knocks on his door five minutes later, looking much less polished than he did earlier, wearing sweatpants and an All Star Game shirt, his hair messy. Soft.

  Blake steps back to let him in without a word, pushes the door shut, and then Elliot is hovering there and it would be so easy to reach out, to pull him in, kiss him until they’re both breathless and then splay him out on his bed, get those sweatpants off, press his lips against the soft skin of Elliot’s thighs…

  “I swear I’m not here to…” Elliot shrugs. “I really just wanted to see you.”

  “Yeah,” Blake says. Yeah, because that’s exactly what he asked for. “You wanna watch a movie or something?”

 

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