They all took their seats, and the waitress asked them if they wanted to order any drinks, not bothering to ask for IDs. The perks of being in the presence of a NHL superstar, Fletcher guessed.
His mom and Coach asked for cosmos, laughing with one another about a personal joke as they both ordered one. Sean asked for water, so Fletcher did, too. Taylor asked for whatever beer they had on tap.
“So,” Sean said to Taylor. “You scored yourself a hat trick tonight. What is that, your seventh this season?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“Eighth,” Fletcher corrected, almost instantly. He didn’t even need to think about it. His dad looked at him and pursed his lips, then looked back at Taylor. What was his dad playing at? Why was he playing the silent game with him? Fletcher had expected a screaming match.
“Right. Eight hat tricks as a rook. That’s impressive, Piers. I only scored five my rookie year.” Fletcher was surprised his dad would give up that information to Taylor.
Taylor shrugged casually as if scoring eight hat tricks halfway through his rookie year was as easy as tying his shoes. “It was a group effort, for sure. I was just the one who hit the puck into the net.”
“Totally, son. You must be pretty loyal to your team.” He flashed a golden smile at Taylor, but Taylor remained stoic and assertive. Like he was staying in control and not letting Sean get under his skin. Fletcher wanted to warn him not to take the bait.
He cleared his throat, preparing to change the topic of conversation to anything besides hockey. Taylor rested his hand back down on Fletcher’s thigh, as if to signal to Fletcher that he knew what his dad was doing. He didn’t move it.
“Loyalty’s important,” Taylor agreed indifferently. Why did Taylor’s hand on his thigh make Fletcher so nervous? It was a friendly gesture.
The waitress came back to the table with their drinks. Coach and Mom were all laughs and giggles as if they were in their own world. Taylor removed his hand from Fletcher’s thigh and took a sip of his beer before setting it back on the table between him and Fletcher. He put his hand back on Fletcher’s leg like it belonged there. Fletcher was just looking too far into things. Because he was an emotional wreck around his parents.
“I must admit,” Taylor said to Sean, leaning in like he was confessing a huge secret. “I’m kind of a big fan. You were one of my favorites to watch growing up. My sister bought me your jersey for my birthday one year.”
Sean folded his arms across his chest, flickering his eyes toFletcher for a second before looking back at Taylor. Fletcher couldn’t tell if Taylor was telling the truth or not. He’d never said anything to Fletcher that hinted towards him being a closeted Sean Armstrong fan, but Taylor was full of secrets so there was definitely a possibility.
Sean nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair. He seemed to be letting go of his guard a little. Taylor seemed like he knew exactly how to cut through Sean’s walls. The easiest way to get into his dad’s good graces was by brown-nosing him. “That’s great to hear, Piers. Glad to know a fan of mine turned out to be one of the good ones.”
They all ordered their food. Fletcher’s dad got the lobster. His mom and coach both ordered the fish and chips—apparently another inside joke they shared. Fletcher ordered the surf and turf salad, and Taylor ordered salmon.
“You don’t want the oysters?” he asked Taylor with a raised eyebrow. Taylor shook his head and made a grotesque look.
“I hate oysters. Unless they’re fried.”
Fletcher let out a chuckle and shook his head in disbelief. Taylor really was something else.
When the server brought out their food, his mom and Coach ordered another round of cosmos. Fletcher asked for a Sprite, hoping the carbonation would help settle his stomach.
“He and I will do two more beers,” Sean told the server, gesturing between him and Taylor.
Fletcher spent the rest of his dinner listening to Taylor kiss ass. And for some reason, it was really working. There was something about the way he was so effortlessly able to impress his father that had Fletcher feeling some sort of way. It just came so naturally to him, Fletcher thought. Like he and his dad were strangely alike. At least in their work ethics. He could tellhis dad really liked Taylor. Maybe even respected him.
Even though he didn’t really mind that his dad’s attention was mostly on Taylor throughout dinner, he felt a wave of relief when Sean finally asked Fletcher a question. He’d been waiting for it to happen all night.
“Are you still going to work with the Little Manatees this summer?” he asked.
Fletcher looked a little offended. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Fletcher reached over to Taylor’s beer and took a sip out of it without thinking. He’d done it before. On New Year’s.
His dad noticed. He squinted his eyes for a split second, then went back to normal. He didn’t think that much about it, thank goodness. Not that it was weird to take a sip of his friend’s beer or whatever.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d come back after the season,” he told Fletcher.
“Well, I am. Unless you don’t want me to,” he challenged. Fletcher had a tendency of picking fights with his dad. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself. “I hope it’s not a problem.”
His dad didn’t take the bait either. He took a sip of his beer and leaned back into his seat comfortably. “You should come out,” he told Taylor casually. “We teach hockey to kids in the city year-round, but in the off-season we have special camps where players come and coach.”
Taylor nodded. “That’d be amazing. I’d love that.” He sounded genuine, but Fletcher couldn’t tell for sure.
Seemingly breaking away from their bubble, Laura’s face brightened as she turned to Taylor. “You need to come for the fourth!”
