by Rachel Reid
“Oh.” Harris flushed. “I don’t know. Different reasons, probably.”
“You should have a boyfriend.” Now it was Troy’s turn to blush, which was so cute Harris couldn’t stand it. “I mean. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t. Um.” He chewed his lip nervously, and Harris was going to die. “You’re, like, nice. And not, y’know, ugly.”
Harris laughed. “Jesus. Thanks.”
“No, I mean—” Troy’s eyes were wide with horror, like he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Harris kept laughing until suddenly, miraculously, Troy joined him. It started as a shaky exhale that formed into full-blown laughter. Troy’s eyes crinkled and his wonderful, rare smile spread across his face.
“Forget I said anything,” Troy said, though he was still smiling. “I don’t know what I was trying to say.”
Harris didn’t either, because at the moment he was completely dazed by Troy’s smile and couldn’t remember any words at all. It wasn’t until Troy’s face fell back into its usual blank frown that Harris was able to say, “I’ve had a couple of boyfriends. Real ones. But not for a while now. I mostly use a dating app, but not many of those dates have led to a second one lately.”
“Oh.” Troy looked like he’d really like his coffee cup lid back. “Are they mostly for, um.”
“Sex?” Harris offered. “Sometimes. I like talking to people, though, as you’ve probably noticed. I like getting to know someone. So I’m usually hoping for more, but if it’s just a hookup, that’s cool too. Sometimes that’s all I need anyway.”
Troy looked like he had something lodged in his throat. Harris watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. He had no idea why Troy was asking him all these questions about his gay dating life if it made him uncomfortable.
Well, there was one possibility, but Harris was trying not to think about it too much. If Troy was working out his own sexuality, Harris didn’t want to push him. He also didn’t want to get his own hopes up.
“What about you?” Harris asked carefully. “Do you date much?”
Troy stood. “I should let you work.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m almost—”
“I need to—”
Troy didn’t even finish his sentence. He just darted out the door, as he always did, leaving Harris to replay the conversation and wonder what exactly Troy wanted from him.
* * *
Troy opened his browser on his phone and typed fun things to do in Ottawa. The results were mostly museums, tours of Parliament and other historic buildings, and going to an Ottawa Centaurs game. Not great.
The team was heading out on the road tomorrow morning, starting with a game in Toronto.
Toronto.
It was early in the evening now, but Troy could already tell he was going to have trouble sleeping. He needed a distraction.
He tried Ottawa nightlife instead. There were clubs, live music venues, sports bars, and several other places Troy didn’t want to be. He didn’t know what he wanted. Maybe just a chill pub where he could sit alone and nurse a beer. Somewhere he could people watch without having to interact with any of them.
He chewed his lip, then typed Ottawa gay bar. He didn’t know why he did it; there was no way he was going to one. If he went to a gay bar alone in a city he would definitely be recognized in, he may as well start wearing Pride pins on his jacket like Harris did.
Harris was probably at one of those bars right now, surrounded by friends and laughing that earsplitting, bellowing laugh that Troy should hate way more than he did.
Maybe Harris was on a date. Using that app of his. Troy had never tried online dating, or a hookup app, or anything like that. It would probably be a good idea, if he ever got brave about his sexuality. He was going to have to figure something out, because he hadn’t had sex in months, and while he was used to droughts, at least with Adrian there had been regular FaceTime sex.
Troy put his phone on the nightstand, then paced the hotel room. He needed to get out of here. He knew he wasn’t going to get laid tonight, but he could do something to distract himself from his churning stomach.
He wasn’t ready to face his old team. Tomorrow he would travel to Toronto, walk into his old arena, and go to the visiting team dressing room. He would put on his Ottawa gear and skate out onto his former home ice in front of his former home crowd and compete against his former teammates. Against Dallas Kent.
Troy would be booed by the fans who used to love him. He expected that. He would be taunted and roughed up by men who had, until very recently, been his family. He would need to trust his new teammates to have his back, and he wasn’t sure he had earned that yet. He wasn’t sure he ever would.
He shouldn’t text Harris. He’d bothered that guy enough this week, and he was aware of how weird it was. Troy’s brain was a whirling mess and it only ever settled when he was sitting in Harris’s office, listening to him type. Soaking up his smiles and enjoying his implausible apple scent that Troy was definitely imagining.
What time was it in Singapore right now? That’s where his mom was. Yesterday she’d sent a photo of his figurine in front of that giant building with the park on top. He picked up his phone to Google the time difference and found a text message.
Harris: Are you nervous about tomorrow night?
Troy sat on the bed, staring at the message. On the one hand, it was kind of a stupid question; of course Troy was nervous. On the other, the fact that Harris had been thinking enough about him to send this text made his throat tighten.
He decided to be honest.
Troy: I’m a wreck right now.
Harris: Wanna drive around and look at Christmas lights?
“What the fuck?” Troy said into the empty room. He wasn’t seven years old. Why would he want to look at Christmas lights?
Except he liked the idea of being in Harris’s truck, listening to whatever music Harris was in the mood for and seeing what his eyes looked like with Christmas lights reflected in them.
Troy: Ok.
* * *
When Troy got into the truck half an hour later, he definitely smelled apples. But Harris had an explanation ready.
“Brought some warm cider for you.” He gestured to the two travel mugs nestled into the cup holders between the seats.
“Drover family apples?” Troy asked. When was the last time he’d had warm apple cider? Probably around the last time he’d taken a drive explicitly to look at Christmas lights.
“You know it.” Harris’s smile was wide and bright, and Troy knew he was staring, but he couldn’t look away. He was so cute, bundled into a festive dark green scarf that was patterned with white snowflakes. Quiet Christmas music played from the stereo.
“You’re really into Christmas, huh?” Troy said.
“Buddy. You have no idea.” Harris pulled out of the hotel parking lot. “You’re not?”
“Not really. I don’t think I’ve ever voluntarily listened to Christmas music.”
“You can turn it off if you like. I don’t mind.”
Troy was already being a massive dick. Great. “No, it’s nice. Festive, y’know?” It was nice. To make up for being an ass, he took a sip of the cider. “Shit. This is good.”
“Mulled it myself!”
“Is that, like...what is that? What’s mulling?”
“Basically just warming it with spices and stuff.”
Troy took another sip. It was sweet, but it was also spicy and comforting and wonderful, and it soothed him like medicine.
“I do it in the slow cooker,” Harris explained. “Then I come home to an amazing-smelling apartment. Do you have a slow cooker?”
“No. I live in a hotel room.”
“Yeah, I know but, like, will you have one when you move into an apartment? Did you used to have one?”
“I barely even know what a slow c
ooker is.”
“Oh man, they’re great. They cook stuff slowly.”
Troy was really glad he’d agreed to come. He felt better already, listening to Harris say stupid, adorable things. “Why is that good? Don’t you want things to cook faster?”
“So you can come home to a meal that’s been cooking all day! It’s like a little husband.”
That actually made Troy laugh. “That’s bleak.”
“Said like someone who’s never known the love of a slow cooker.”
“I don’t want to hear how you thank the slow cooker for dinner.”
Harris laughed so hard Troy thought they were going to drive off the road. “It’s the best relationship I’ve ever been in. Easily.”
They got on the highway, which Troy thought was weird but didn’t say anything about it. Frankly he didn’t care if they saw a single Christmas light. He was just enjoying the ride.
Harris hummed along to “Winter Wonderland” while Troy sipped his cider and tried not to find everything about Harris painfully charming.
“Is this what you do for fun?” Troy asked. “Look at Christmas lights?”
“Well, not in the summer,” Harris said dryly.
Troy checked himself. He was being a dick again. “What do you do normally? For fun.”
“Lots of stuff. I go out a lot. Or at least I go out as much as I can these days. This job keeps me pretty busy. Wyatt hosts a monthly board game night at his place, so I go to those usually.”
Troy almost laughed. Did his new teammates really get together to play board games? “Like, what? Monopoly?”
“Usually games like Settlers of Catan or Ticket to Ride.”
Troy had not heard of those, but they sounded nerdy as hell. “Where do you go when you go out?”
“Lots of places. I like live music, so I go to a lot of shows. I go to gay bars. Not clubs very often. I’m more of a pub guy. How about you?”
“Pubs, I guess. I don’t go out much.”
“Unless some weirdo invites you to look at Christmas lights?” Harris teased.
Troy’s lips twitched. “Apparently.”
“Are you going to see your family at Christmas?”
“Nope.” Troy didn’t like talking about his family, but for some reason he said, “My parents are divorced. Kind of a messy one. Mom is traveling and Dad is basically a giant asshole.”
“Oh.”
“He has a new wife, too, and she’s barely older than me. So.”
“Awkward Christmas.”
“Yeah. I’m not sad to miss it. I haven’t cared about the holidays in years.” It wasn’t exactly true. Last year Adrian had surprised Troy in Toronto on Christmas Eve, and they’d had a really excellent couple of days together. Their celebrations weren’t exactly traditional, though.
There was a silence for a few seconds, and then Harris asked, “Did you see your dad when you were in Vancouver?”
“Yup. He still sucks.”
“Sorry.”
Troy could imagine what Curtis Barrett would say if he saw his son riding around Ottawa with a gay man, looking at Christmas lights. “Whatever. Fuck him.”
“That’s a good attitude,” Harris said. “Toxic people aren’t worth your energy.”
“I’m starting to figure that out,” Troy said to the window. The highway was dark, and he actually wouldn’t mind some festive lights to look at right now.
“What about your mom? Is she cool?”
“She’s great. She’s...” Troy sighed. “She was miserable, after Dad left her. And I was too busy with hockey to do much except give her money. Buy her a new place to live in Vancouver. That sort of thing.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound useless.”
Troy knew she’d appreciated the help, but he’d wished he could have done more for her. “Anyway. She’s good now. She met a nice, quiet guy named Charlie who treats her well and makes her smile. So now they’re traveling the world together. Been gone for almost three months.”
“That’s awesome. I’ll bet you miss her, though.”
“Yeah. A lot.”
There was silence between them for a moment, then Harris said, “Can I ask you something? About that dickbag you used to be teammates with?”
Troy almost laughed. “Sure.”
“I can’t really—like, he doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s—”
“A dickbag?” Troy offered.
“Right. Why were you friends with him?”
Troy sighed. He didn’t want to talk about this, but he also kind of did. There was something about Harris that made him want to share. “We were rookies the same year. Roommates. I knew he was a dick, but he was also exactly the kind of guy my dad loved. So part of it might have been me recognizing him as a guy I should want to be friends with.”
“You must have liked him, too, though. At least a bit.”
“I did,” Troy admitted. “He was fun. Liked to party, liked to spend his money. Loved hockey, and being an NHL star. We would talk about all the cups we were going to win together. All the records we were going to break. The cars we were going to buy.” Dallas had also talked about sex and women a lot, while Troy had awkwardly tried to contribute, but he didn’t tell Harris about that. “We were close. Until a few weeks ago, he was my best friend. I know it’s fucked up, but that’s how it was.”
“Have you talked to him since?”
Troy huffed. “No.”
“Jeez. I’ve never liked that guy, and I think you did the right thing and are better off without him, but I’m sorry you lost your friend. That’s rough.”
“Thank you,” Troy said quietly. It was nice to have someone acknowledge the loss he felt for his former friendship, and to make it seem less shameful. “I didn’t witness anything. I never actually saw him assault anyone. I feel stupid, but it didn’t even occur to me that he would do that. Until I read those posts.”
“You believed them right away?”
“Yeah. It was a punch in the fucking gut, but yeah. I believed them.”
“Sorry,” Harris said again.
Troy exhaled and released some of the tension that was making his jaw ache. “So where are we going?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.
“Taffy Lane.”
“Taffy Lane? Where’s that? Is that a real street name?”
“Oh man. Just wait. It’s in Orleans and they go all out every year. It’s a total Christmas wonderland.”
Troy couldn’t wait to see what that meant. So he drank his cider and let a jolly bearded man take him to Christmas wonderland.
* * *
Taffy Lane was hideous. But also, kind of great.
“How much are these guys spending on electricity?” Troy asked as they slowly drove past a house that must have had tens of thousands of lights all over their house and front yard. There were also several generators running, keeping the cartoon characters on the lawn inflated.
“A lot,” Harris said, grinning.
“Why is there Darth Vader? What does he have to do with Christmas?”
“His lightsaber is candy cane striped. See?”
“Yeah, but...”
“Don’t question someone’s Christmas vision. Just enjoy it.”
Troy frowned at the allegedly festive Darth Vader. Troy wasn’t a nerd or anything, but he knew enough about Star Wars to say, with authority, that Darth Vader was not an appropriate Christmas decoration.
“He blew up a planet,” Troy argued.
“Yeah, but he felt bad about it after. Eventually.”
It was such a ridiculous debate, but Troy couldn’t let it go. “Too little too late. He should have tossed the emperor into that pit sooner.”
Harris laughed. “You are such a geek. Wow. I had no idea.”
“No I’m not. I saw
those movies, like, twice. That’s fucking normal.”
“I prefer to applaud Vader’s heroic decision to stand up to his evil friend, no matter how long it took him,” Harris said. He caught Troy’s eye after he said it, as if making sure Troy got his point.
Troy shifted uneasily in his seat. He got it.
“Still a stupid Christmas decoration,” he grumbled.
They drove to the end of Taffy Lane, which took a while since they were in a line of cars that was crawling along. Then Harris drove them around some other nearby streets, which also had some decent decorations but nothing on the level of Taffy Lane.
“I don’t like the light projections,” Troy declared when they were halfway down their fourth or fifth street. “It’s lazy.”
“I hear ya. But combined with other lights, they look pretty cool.”
“It’s too much. I like houses like that one.” Troy gestured to a small house with a pointy roof. Lights outlined the gables, windows, door, front porch, and the sides of the front of the house from ground to roof. There was a big wreath with a red bow hanging on the door. “That’s classic, right there. Like, that’s the kind of house I’d want to spend Christmas in.”
“That’s sort of how my parents decorate our house,” Harris said.
Troy could imagine the Drover family farmhouse, sitting perfect and pretty in the middle of a snow-covered apple orchard. That house was probably bursting at the seams with overly loud laughter and love during holidays. “Sounds nice.”
“You should come over on Christmas. The dinner is always amazing. My folks would be happy to have you.” Harris made the offer easily, as if it wasn’t one of the kindest invitations Troy had ever received. But there was no way someone as miserable as Troy should be tainting anyone’s Christmas festivities, much less a family’s as perfect as Harris’s probably was.
“I can’t. I’m moving into that apartment two days before Christmas and I’m going to just, y’know, get myself settled in there.”
“Offer stands if you change your mind.”
“Thanks.” They were at a stop sign, and their gazes locked for a moment. Harris’s eyes reflected the twinkling lights all around them, and his smile was so warm and lovely that Troy felt a sudden and intense desire to kiss him.