“Good for him.” The movie was playing in the background, but neither of them was really watching it.
“I really respect Henri and Cort having an open relationship,” Quentin commented, because it was true. There wasn’t an ounce of passive aggression in his voice, because there was none of that in his heart. “They really trust each other, and they’ve found a way to have fun mixed with trust.”
Joel nodded. “I’ve noticed that queer couples often have a more evolved view of sex and intimacy within relationships. I admire it.”
Hm.Quentin felt like a detective, dissecting everything Joel said. What did it mean?
“Do you think you could ever have an open relationship?” Joel said. The question hit Quentin out of nowhere. “Sorry,” Joel said. “That’s a very personal question.”
“It’s okay. I haven’t thought about it much, honestly. I would have to know what I’m likeina relationship before I could make that decision.”
Joel cataloged that piece of information instantly. “You haven’t been in a serious relationship before?”
“I haven’t,” Quentin said. “Not as an adult. It’s hard with the hockey schedule. Plenty of my teammates have done it, and Henri and Cort are an example of how it can work well. But it can be hard when one partner is traveling as often as I do.”
“I get it,” Joel said. “It’s hard to maintain a relationship when your schedule is like this.”
“What about you?” Quentin asked.
“Do I want an open relationship?”
“Are youina relationship?” Quentin clarified.
Joel was nervous about this line of questioning, but it was an excited nervousness. He felt like a schoolboy with a crush, gently teasing for information, while trying not to be discovered. “I’m not,” Joel said. “Like you said, it’s hard.”
“Not even you and Ariadne Lake?”
“You read too many tabloids.”
Quentin swallowed. He had assumed, like many people did, that Joel and Ariadne were in a relationship.
“She’s a very good friend,” Joel said, “but…I just don’t think we’d work.”
Why not?Quentin wanted to ask, but he was getting nervous, so he nodded at the TV. “This is my favorite part.” He had no idea what was going on in the scene.
They watched the movie together, and when the pizza arrived (pineapple and bacon, which they were excited about because they both loved), they ate it together, sitting cross-legged on Quentin’s bed. When they’d finished the pizza, Quentin stood and folded the box and slid it into a bag he’d dedicated for recycling. He returned to the bed and sat down, this time infinitesimally closer to Joel. Maybe he imagined it, or maybe Joel moved a little closer to him, too.
The credits were rolling when the door to Quentin’s hotel room opened, and Henri stepped in, yawning and stretching. Quentin and Joel, by then, were lying on the bed, their legs extended. Joel’s arms were folded across his chest, and one of Quentin’s arms was bent up and back under his head, while his other played with the duvet. They were talking about nothing in particular, about Joel’s tour and Quentin’s games, but Quentin still felt like he’d been caught doing something wrong when Henri saw them.
“Oh, hi!” Henri said, seeing Joel. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. How are you?”
Joel sat up quickly. Was Quentin wrong, or was there a slight blush on Joel’s cheeks? It was hard to tell, with the way that it was dark outside.
“I’m doing well,” Joel said politely. Quentin noticed a change in Joel’s demeanor. Joel had been open with him, more talkative, more authentic. Now that Henri was there, it was like the walls had gone back up. He had stopped being just Joel and started being Joel Beckett, the pop star. “I’ll be at your game tomorrow,” he said. “I’m looking forward to seeing you play.”
Henri beamed. “If I’d known you were here, I would’ve invited you to join us out for dinner tonight. Quentin should’ve come, too. But he’s old and boring.”
“I’m, like, a year older than you,” Quentin protested.
“Yep. Ancient.”
Joel was putting his shoes back on. “I shoulddefinitelybe going,” he said. “Braun’ll be furious if he knew I was up this late.”
“Screw ’im,” Quentin said.
“That’s the spirit,” Joel said.
Joel wavered for a second, suddenly struck with the impulse to hug Quentin. Quentin was standing by his bed, and Joel was hovering halfway to the door. Henri was standing there, and Joel had the horrible feeling that Henri had a suspicion about what was going on here. Though whatwasgoing on? Joel had no idea.
