“You know you can’t stay single forever,” I tell him. “You don’t think that’ll bring up questions? You’re a young, good looking, athlete who hasn’t had a girlfriend in his entire career.”
“Hockey is my girlfriend. I’m giving it all I have so there’s no time for a special someone,” Abbott repeats what I’ve read him quoted as saying to a reporter once in a Valentine’s Day puff piece for his old team’s social media.
“Also, if you’re going to decide the menu for this Cup Day thing, maybe tell me first instead of the whole town.”
“My bad,” Abbott replies, and a flicker of genuine remorse darkens his rugged features. “Is that why you threw me under the bus with Stacy? You were mad I told Patti we’d include her ice cream?”
“No,” I admit and take a step closer. The ice cream cone in my hand is half eaten but the half remaining has begun to drip. My hand is a sticky mess, and not in a good way. “I did it because you didn’t seem to have any problem flirting with her.”
“You were jealous?” Abbott asks and he looks… turned on?
“I was stupid. It happens. Have a good night Abbott,” I tell him and move to leave. He grabs me by the wrist and his eyes dart quickly around, making sure we’re completely alone in the small hall before he licks my knuckles where the ice cream has dripped.
A shockwave of lust tears through me at the feel of his warm, smooth tongue. I yank my hand back. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to remind you that I can give you what you want,” Abbott replies. “Passion. Lust. Love.”
“Yeah, you’re a real fucking hat trick of emotions,” I say and my voice is way more raspy and strained than I wish it was. I take a step back, dumping the remainder of my cone in the trash by the restrooms. “As long as nobody’s looking.”
“Ready to go Deck!” Terra calls out from the storeroom.
I turn and leave him there without another glance. But after we load the coolers in the back of the truck, I toss the keys at Terra. “I’ll be back in a second.”
I sneak back into Patti’s Parlor, which is easy because it’s still packed. No one notices me. Abbott is back behind the counter serving ice cream, smiling and laughing with customers – and Stacy, much to my childish annoyance. I grab a ballot and a pencil and scrawl in my personal choice instead of voting for Patti’s picks. Barlowe Hat Trick.
6
DECLAN
When Finnfirst suggested we go out with Logan and Jake, I was all-in. Then he told me where he wanted to go and I said hell no. Dorothy’s is a renowned gay bar. Has been for decades. I’ve never been and have never thought of going. When I told Finn this, he asked me why.
“Because I’m not looking to… I just don’t need a place that’s so specific,” I muttered.
Finn looked baffled. “I just figured we’ve been dragging you to straight bars for your entire life so now we should go to a gay bar. Seems only fair.”
“First of all, you haven’t dragged me anywhere because most of the time you guys didn’t invite me on your outings,” I reminded him and then wanted to kick myself when I saw his face fall and Logan’s cloud with guilt. Fuck. Why do I have such a knack for making my siblings feel like shit? I go with my new policy — sharing my truth. “I honestly never minded when you didn’t invite me. I mean, maybe I did a little at first, but then… well the distance made it easier to hide, you know?”
After that they both looked anguished, which wasn’t what I was going for. Another fuck up. But then Jake saved the day, like he tended to do, either on purpose or by accident, and said, “Well, they’ve got pool tables and dart boards in the back, according to the internet, so can we not worry about the labels on the place and just let me kick your asses?”
“It’s too bad Abbott can’t come,” Logan had added. “Because he’s horrible at pool. Would be nice to kick a Cup winner’s ass.”
“You invited Abbott?” I had asked, trying not to sound as emotional about that as I was. I wasn’t sure what those emotions were, exactly. Anger, shock, hope, and something else that made my heart feel like it was made of helium.
“Finn did, but he had to turn us down,” Jake explained as he pulled his tall, broad frame out of the booth he’d wedged it into when the restaurant closed for the night. “Said it might be a PR nightmare if he was seen and stuff.”
And that helium feeling in my heart turned to cement. And suddenly there was nowhere else I would rather be, so I said, “When do you wanna go?”
Now here I am, at my first gay bar, with every straight male friend I have. And you know what? It doesn’t completely suck. For the first twenty minutes I was acutely aware of everyone and everything happening in Dorothy’s. The cacophony of conversations reverberated in my ears. Anytime someone nearby turned their head I looked. It felt like all eyes were on me even though none were — except Finn and Logan’s matching eyeballs. Logan and Finn are studying me. At least it feels that way.
I don’t know why. But when I come back to the pool table with a fresh round of drinks, after losing a game to Jake, I finally call them on it. “You two watched me like a nervous mother the whole time I was getting drinks.”
“Did not,” Finn says like he’s shocked I would even suggest it. He’s the worst actor in the family because he’s an over-actor. He sells things too hard. “I was just worried you’d drop them.”
“I was just wondering if you saw anyone you think is hot in here,” Logan replies, his blunt honesty hitting me like a two-by-four to the face.
“Logan, what the hell, man?” Jake says and is fighting a laugh as he turns to me. “But like seriously, blonds, brunettes, or red heads? Give us something to work with here.”
“I am not here to pick up anyone,” I inform them. “I came out because…”
