Drawn to You, page 9
“Uh, not really.”
“You talk my ear off,” Gabe said, sounding like he’d found treasure.
“You’re easy to talk to. I have things to talk to you about.” He could talk to Ashley forever, and he’d thought that quality might be unique to her, since they came out of the same womb and all that. But Gabe was, in some ways, easier to talk to than Ashley. He was a clean slate.
Gabe gave him a smile and pulled him toward the bar. People were showing up, and Brandon noticed a sign by the entryway with the schedule all timed out. They had a half hour before dinner.
Brandon found some of his teammates in line for drinks, and introducing them to Gabe went as smoothly as he imagined introducing them to a woman would have gone. Carver, Meeks, and Gunner had been Northern Lights for a long time, and they made it clear to Brandon when he got called up that they looked out for prospects and rookies.
They got drinks and kept mingling with Brandon’s teammates, and every time he felt anxious, he’d glance over at Gabe, who looked fucking radiant, and Gabe would do something reassuring, like slip his hand under Brandon’s suit coat to press against his lower back, his undershirt and button-down keeping them from being skin to skin.
This was going okay. Even though Gabe’s boyfriending was fake, he was incredible moral support. Brandon was here, at an NHL-adjacent event, out to his teammates, his “boyfriend” on his arm, and no one was being weird. It felt…normal.
There was relief, and there was also the frustration of putting this off for so long. Could he have had this sooner?
No. He wouldn’t beat himself up. The combination of Jackson, Ryan, and Gabe all came at the right time for him. He was doing this on his schedule, and that was okay.
When dinner was announced, they found their table, happy to see they were sitting by Jackson and Ryan. Nate Walker’s boyfriend (and Ryan’s tattoo artist), Colin, was there as his representative, since his NHL schedule didn’t allow him to attend. Marcus Honey, Blake Brennan’s best friend, was there with his wife, Nina. They all seemed to know who Brandon was, like they’d been slipped info beforehand.
Brandon didn’t feel gay enough to be there, but Gabe was easily personable even though he didn’t know who any of these people were. He took Brandon’s hand under the table and carried their part of the conversation for him when Brandon couldn’t figure out what to say.
Dinner was steak and potatoes with a rainbow of veggies in a crescent moon, which was on the nose but delicious and a great excuse not to talk.
After dinner, Jackson and Ryan gave a presentation, and then the former captain of the Colorado Range, Oliver Swann, who Brandon had completely forgotten was gay (and forgot he wrote a book, which he hadn’t read) talked about the importance of mental health in hockey, and Brandon realized, as he looked around the room, that Ryan and Jackson already had a network of people across the league who would happily participate and contribute. They weren’t starting this out of nothing. They were starting it out of an existing community.
It was beautiful.
THIRTEEN
GABE
There was no way in hell Gabe was saying no when Jackson and Ryan invited him back to their place. At the very least, he wanted to meet Lola, who Brandon had shown him photos of and looked soft.
As Brandon drove to their house, Gabe spent the time admiring the way Brandon was glowing. He’d held on to his nerves for most of the night, and then when dinner was all done, it was like something cracked in him, and he finally allowed himself to enjoy what was happening around him.
Being Brandon’s date was a much nicer way to spend the evening than stocking the produce department. He kept thinking about how Jackson said Brandon wasn’t much of a talker—but he talked to Gabe.
They beat Jackson and Ryan back, and Lola tackled them, so excited to see Brandon again and meet a new person.
“You would make a terrible guard dog, wouldn’t you?” Gabe asked, lying on the floor of the kitchen after getting gently knocked over. Lola sniffed every inch of him.
“You’re in a nice suit,” Brandon reminded him. He hadn’t forgotten that for a single moment, not until Lola welcomed them home, because he’d had Brandon’s eyes raking over him at every opportunity.
He let Brandon pull him to his feet, and then he found himself swaying in Brandon’s arms in a bit of a clumsy dance. It was prom, pretty much. They might as well dance.
“Oh no, is our kitchen cursed? Or magical?” Jackson asked, the door to the garage closing with a heavy thud behind him and Ryan. When Gabe looked over, Lola had leapt up into Ryan’s arms and he was holding her like you’d hold a cat or a much smaller dog.
“What’s wrong with the kitchen?” Gabe asked, not letting Brandon pull away from him.
“The site of our first kiss,” Ryan said, a soft smile on his face. Jackson rolled his eyes indulgently at him. There was a story there.
Gabe pressed a kiss to Brandon’s cheek to rile him up.
Jackson wrangled some leftovers from dinner, so they stood around the center island and ate directly from takeout boxes, the hockey players because they were always hungry, and Gabe because he would be eating as much of the expensive food as possible. Gabe was so used to ramen, rice and beans, and mashed potatoes that were, at one time in their life, powder in a packet, that introducing good food, with enough protein and fresh vegetables, felt like a revelation.
Brandon’s hockey dads asked Gabe a thousand questions, and somehow Gabe ended up pulling up his Patreon and showing Jackson and Ryan the art that had started their friendship.
“Oh,” Jackson said, eyebrows shooting up to the ceiling. “You are very talented.”
“Hmm,” Ryan said, hovering behind Jackson so he could look at Gabe’s phone, too. “We should try that,” he said, pointing to something on-screen.
“Shut up,” Jackson said, continuing to scroll, a pleased little smile on his face. “Maybe.”
“All right, young lovers, write my username down so you can revisit when you’re alone,” Gabe said, taking his phone back.
“We have practice in the morning, so we can drop you off at your place on the way,” Jackson offered as he relinquished his phone. Ryan had dutifully taken a Post-it out of a drawer to write down Gabe’s Patreon username and put it on the fridge, which was oddly charming.
And then Gabe realized Jackson was assuming he would stay the night.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want. I can drive you home. I know your schedule is weirder than mine,” Brandon said, giving him an out. He wished they could have a conversation without an audience.
“A sleepover would be fun,” he said instead of taking Brandon’s out. And by the soft smile on his face, he knew he chose right. Plus, Brandon’s goal had been to come out to his sister that night, and Gabe wanted to be there for him, whatever the outcome was. He deserved to not have to do it alone.
“I’ll make breakfast,” Ryan said, and Gabe understood what Brandon meant when he said they were aggressively hospitable. Jackson made sure he knew where the extra toothbrushes were, and then Gabe and Brandon headed upstairs.
Brandon found him a Northern Lights shirt and a pair of his too-big pajama pants, showed him how to hang up his new suit, and then they were sitting in bed next to each other. It felt like hanging out in Parker’s room. Casual. There weren’t many other times he’d been in bed with someone else nonsexually. It was nice.
“I don’t know if tonight is the right night to tell her,” Brandon said.
“Are you trying to get out of it because you’re nervous or because you don’t want to do it?”
“Nervous.”
“Okay. Give her a call. I’ll hold your hand.” He picked up Brandon’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
“I don’t know what to tell her.”
Gabe remembered coming out for the first time to his best friend in high school. Despite a years-long friendship and the deepest trust he had in another person, it had still been terrifying. Even though it had gone well, his heart had still been beating a thousand beats a minute. When the world’s first lesson for you was that there was a part of you to hide from everyone else, it was hard to finally reveal it.
“Tell her you have a boyfriend,” Gabe offered. It was what made it easier for Brandon to tell Jackson and Ryan. What gave him the courage to show up to the fundraiser that evening holding a man’s hand.
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah, man. Whatever makes it easier.”
Gabe leaned against the pillows and took his phone out to scroll the internet for some semblance of privacy as Brandon took a deep breath and dialed his sister’s number.
He told her about the fundraiser and what it was for. About how his captain and husband, his hosts, were gay. And then he gripped Gabe’s hand hard enough to be alarming.
“And I got to take my boyfriend with me to the fundraiser.”
“What?” Gabe overheard, Ashley’s voice happy and excited. “Your what? Brandon, why didn’t you tell me? I’m so happy for you!”
Brandon let out a shaky breath before he requested her to keep her voice down.
“I haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, so please don’t scream.”
“What does he look like? Is he cute? What’s his name? How long have you known?”
“I’ve known…forever, I guess. Yes, he’s cute.” He looked over at Gabe, that shy little smile on his face he got when he was caught staring. “His name is Gabe.”
“Send me photos!”
“Uh, would you want to FaceTime? He’s here. Wait, is that okay?” he asked Gabe, who nodded.
“I wanna meet Ashley.”
“Oh my god, he’s right there. Yeah, yeah, FaceTime.”
Brandon switched the call to FaceTime, and Gabe scooted in closer to him as a pretty brunette popped up on the screen.
“Oh, you’re definitely related,” he said, smiling. “Hi, Ashley. I’m Gabe.”
“I can’t believe my brother is dating someone and didn’t tell me. This is so wild. I’m so glad to meet you, and, B, I’m so happy for you. I love you so much.”
“Thanks, Ash,” he said, a tear finally falling. Gabe knew that feeling. The purest relief a person could ever feel. Gabe carefully wiped it away.
“You’re right, he is cute,” she said, a big smile on her face.
Gabe happily answered all of her questions, grateful he didn’t have to lie about much at all. They had a relationship—a friendship—and he told that story when asked about the two of them. Finally, Gabe yawned for about the fifth time, and Ashley told them to go to bed. It was an hour later in Minnesota than in Utah after all, and Gabe was beat from the day.
“Still banking on you staying in the NHL for a bit longer,” Ashley said, showing her crossed fingers on video. The Northern Lights were headed to Utah soon, and Gabe knew Brandon could really use some family time.
“Trying my best.”
After they hung up, Brandon didn’t let go of his hand.
“Thank you,” Brandon said, finally letting his relief release from his body with a big sigh, tears falling down his face. Gabe held him, this big, brawny hockey player who wanted to write a story about his little sister, as he let himself be Brandon’s safety blanket for coming out. The tenderness he felt toward Brandon was overwhelming.
“Fuck, sorry, this is so stupid,” Brandon said, pulling back and wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Don’t say that. I was just thinking about when I first came out. It was a big deal. It’s okay that this is a big deal.”
“I was pretty sure it was going to be okay.”
“But no matter who you tell, there’s that one percent of doubt, and it’s overwhelming.”
“Yeah,” Brandon said, slumping against him.
“Let’s wash your face and get ready for bed, and when you wake up, you’ll feel lighter,” Gabe promised.
The en suite bathroom in Brandon’s guest bedroom was bigger than any of the bathrooms in Gabe’s house, and they got ready at the two sinks next to each other. Gabe yawned again as he washed his face, using a washcloth to make sure he got all the concealer his roommates had insisted on for the night off.
“Fuck, I need to figure out a way to tattoo concealer under my eyes,” he said, making a face in the mirror.
“You were wearing concealer? I thought…maybe you just needed the day off?”
Gabe laughed, delighted by Brandon. Yes, hockey players worked hard. And then they got to go home to a house or apartment they knew they could afford, a full fridge, and a car they didn’t have to borrow from someone with a big enough heart. Gabe worked hard, grinding away every day, desperately trying to pad his emergency account in between events that depleted it, never having a penny left over for retirement.
“Brandon, I need about a year off before my body is out of the constant fight or flight. Until then, concealer sometimes.” He meant it flippantly. His coworkers, his roommates, and most of his classmates all lived similar lives. Their bills were higher than their pay, and they got their class work done on empty energy tanks. It was easy to joke about with people who were also going through it.
It got him a deeply pitying look from Brandon.
“Don’t do that to me, dude,” he said, pushing past Brandon to leave the bathroom.
“Do what?”
“Look at me with your rich-person eyes and feel bad for me.”
“I don’t feel bad for you. It just…isn’t fair. You work so hard. I see how hard you work. And it’s like it doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah, man. It’s like that for a lot of people. Most people, probably. Some of the hardest-working people on earth make the least. It’s all a scam.”
Brandon looked like he was processing a big thought.
“I’ll let that marinate with you for a bit. Do you have a side-of-bed preference?”
Brandon shook his head, so Gabe took the side closest to the window. Brandon flipped the lights off and crawled into bed next to him. They faced each other, sleepover-style.
“If I was working tonight, I’d still be awake for four more hours.”
“Why do you work overnights?”
“Pay is better. Easier to schedule classes and my grounds crew job around.” He yawned again. Sure, he could stay up for four more hours if he was moving around and doing physical labor. Now that he was in bed, though…he was about to drift off.
Brandon was so close. His eyes were still red from crying. He touched Gabe’s cheek so softly before leaning in.
“Brandon,” Gabe said, a hand on Brandon’s chest to give them both some space. “You’ve never kissed anyone, right?”
“No,” he said, voice small.
“I’m not taking your first kiss. That’s supposed to be special.” Was Gabe’s first kiss special? No. It was a sloppy too-much-tongue make-out at a punk show at an all-ages club, with a guy he’d never seen before and never saw again. But that didn’t mean Brandon’s shouldn’t be special.
“You think it wouldn’t be special because it’s you?”
“When you do all of this for real, a real boyfriend you introduce to your friends and family, with a guy who gives you butterflies and sweeps you off your feet or whatever, you won’t want to have wasted your first kiss.”
Brandon’s face fell, and he slid to the edge of the bed, rolling to face away from Gabe. Fuck. He wanted to reach back out, to comfort him. He just went through something major—coming out to a family member for the first time. Showing up to a team function with a man on his arm. The emotions of the night ran high. Brandon was swept up in them. Still, seeing the rejection on Brandon’s face hurt his heart.
Gabe scooted closer to him under the covers until he was at Brandon’s back, spooning him cautiously, like Brandon might push him away at any moment. Instead, Brandon caught the hand Gabe slung over his chest and held it tight over his heart. Gabe gave it a few minutes, as the two of them relaxed against each other, then pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder.
“Tonight was really special to me,” Gabe said. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Thanks for coming,” Brandon said. He was talking to Gabe still, so that was a good sign.
In the morning, Gabe woke up sprawled across Brandon’s chest with one of Brandon’s hands tangled in his hair. It was the best sleep he’d had in years.
FOURTEEN
BRANDON
Brandon was mad at himself for about a dozen things, but the one he couldn’t pry from his head with needle-nose pliers was trying to kiss Gabe and getting rejected. Gabe had been so nice about it, and Brandon fell asleep with someone’s body pressed against him for the first time, but he was filled with so much unrestrained want that he thought steam might spout out of his ears soon.
His thoughts were a mess by the time he got to the practice rink and learned Vincent Mietola, the winger he had temporarily replaced, was cleared for contact, so Brandon had to head back down to Iowa.
It was only three more days before the Northern Lights’ trip to Utah. He’d been texting with Ashley about coming to the game. He’d let himself get his hopes up, thinking he would last another game or two.
The hockey Gods, however, did not agree. There was nothing he could do about it except follow orders. He tossed a text into the family group chat with a frowny face emoji and grabbed his gear. The Northern Lights set him up with a rental car and he headed down I-35 back to Des Moines.
He couldn’t get the car’s Bluetooth to connect to his phone, so he spent the three-and-a-half-hour drive in silence, replaying the attempted kiss over and over in his head. The night had been perfect. He’d felt loved and accepted by everyone who mattered. The fundraiser was legitimately fun, and he thought he’d been able to show Gabe a good time too. He thought their attraction was mutual and building to something.
And then Brandon had ruined it.
He didn’t make it back in time to play in the Stars’ Sunday afternoon game, but he showed up to the arena to drop off his gear with the equipment team and to hang out in the locker room post-game. He got a warm welcome from his teammates and a bear hug from a sweaty Skylar, who let him know they’d be having a conversation later because he had a million questions.
