They continued dogging on his dad until Fletcher stopped at a red light and decided he was hungry. “We’re stopping to eat,” he announced. “And according to everything you have told me in the past two weeks, you have a weak spot for Mediterranean food. Right?”
“You know, I’m starting to think you’re gathering intel on me to write a hit piece. That, or you’re just obsessed with me. Most girls are, you know. They might even have a fan club you could join.”
“Guess we’ll never know,” was all he said with a smirk.
6
The Shopping Game
Taylor always thought it was funny how Sánchez refused to go into a grocery store alone. Funny and obvious. He claimed that he always needed someone in there with him for his safety, but Taylor knew it was just an excuse to hang out. “If you wanted to spend time with me then you could’ve just said that” Taylor teased him.
“Hermano, we can’t go anywhere without getting recognized. I don’t think I was made for the spotlight,” he said dramatically. He sported a baseball cap and kept his head down as they walked past the other shoppers. Every time Taylor noticed Sánchez would do a double take at the shoppers, he wanted to laugh his ass off. “This life is stressful.”
“It’s happened, like, three times tops,” Taylor scoffed. “I think someone needs to humble you.”
“You sound just like my sister,” Sánchez muttered. “Okay, what’s next on the list?”
Taylor looked down at his phone where he had a pictureof the shopping list. Taylor made a weird look as he read it. “Condoms?”
Sánchez just laughed loudly and unapologetically. “I have a date tonight,” he said proudly. Taylor wanted to joke that Sánchez wasn’t doing a good job at remaining low-profile.
“Withwho?” Taylor asked humorously.
“An older woman,” Sánchez said with a smirk. “I’ll bring her to New Year’s so I can make you jealous.”
“Jesus Christ, man,” Taylor chuckled, steering the cart towards the back of the store and following Sánchez to the condom aisle.
A part of him felt weird about going with his friend to buy condoms. He worried that a fan could see and take it the wrong way. Like think that they were secretly hooking up or something. Taylor of all people knew that being a gay NHL hockey player could put a target on your back. Even catching allegations of being gay could make you a laughingstock. It was so normalized in the league to be openly homophobic. Even though the league pretended to be progressive. Half of the talk in the locker room was just homophobic bullshit disguised as teasing your best bud. Taylor felt like he had to laugh along, but it always made him uncomfortable.
They turned onto the condom aisle, but Taylor froze when he saw Fletcher Armstrong standing there with a box of extra-large condoms in his hand. No attempts to hide. No worries about someone walking by with their camera.
“Look who it is,” Sánchez chirped. “Is that the right size for you, man?”
Fletcher laughed easily. “You wanna swing by my place and find out, princess?”
His eyes flickered to Taylor’s, just enough to register that Taylor was there, and Fletcher gave him a friendly head nod. “How’s it going? You guys planning on having a fun night with each other?” He smirked suggestively.
Heat crawled up Taylor’s neck. “Sánchez isn’t my type,” Taylor rolled his eyes, but it came out slightly defensive. He hated that.
Sánchez’s phone started to ring. “It’s my mom.” He groaned. “I’ll be right back. Watch the cart, Piers,” Sánchez said before walking away, leaving Taylor and Fletcher alone.
The aisle felt narrower with just the two of them there. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way. He and Fletcher were kind of friends now. They would walk out of practice together and chat. But seeing him here in a completely different setting was kind of unnerving.
Fletcher dropped his box of condoms in his basket, and Taylor was hyper aware of the noise it made against the hard plastic of the basket.
“So,” Fletcher said casually, leaning against the shelf. “Whatisyour type?” he asked Taylor curiously. For some reason, the question made Taylor a little nervous. It was a completely normal question. Guys asked each other shit like that all the time.
But the way Fletcher was watching him—It made Taylor nervous. Like Fletcher was seriously asking him what his type was in a more than friendly way. Or maybe he was just overthinking it.
He just shrugged. “I’m not picky,” Taylor said, deciding to go with a safe option. Taylor didn’t really have a type, so it’s not like he was lying.
“Yeah. Me neither,” Fletcher told him. His mind went back to panicking about being in the condom aisle with a teammate. It would’ve looked a lot less suggestive if Sánchez was here too.
“So, I’m assuming you’ve got fun plans tonight?” Taylor askedforcing his voice to go lighter. In a friendlier way.
“I’ve got a date tonight.”
Taylor nodded. “That’s so funny. Sánchez said he’s got one tonight, too.” Taylor goaded. “If you’re taking my boy out tonight then you better return him in one piece.”
