Eliot was right. Once he’d had his surgery, he’d have time to heal up. The pain would be a whole lot more manageable, and with enough time and physical therapy, he’d feel a lot better. Danny was just feeling sorry for himself right now.
“I feel washed-up,” he said, without really meaning to. The thing was, he knew Eliot would say something comforting, and he wanted that.
He wanted to take as much comfort as Eliot was willing to offer, since he was the only person in Danny’s life who seemed willing to offer it at all.
As expected, Eliot scooted closer on the couch, resting his knee against Danny’s thigh, a silent gesture of support. “You’re not washed up. You’re coming to the end of one phase of your life, but that means you get to start a new one. Do you know what you wanna do?”
Danny shrugged. “Coach, maybe. Kids, I mean. Not adults. Mostly, I’d like to slow down. I feel like I haven’t had a break since I was in middle school.”
“Well, there you go,” Eliot said. “You’ve earned the chance to slow down, and when you’re ready, you can work on the next big thing.”
Sitting back, Danny basked in the comfort of that remark. Eliot was right. His life was a long way from over, it was just changing.
“How do you always know exactly what to say?” Danny asked.
“It’s kinda my job.” Eliot leaned forward to grab another slice of pizza. “But I’m not saying anything special, here. You’re more than your hockey career.”
Danny swallowed. That was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t really believe that. Hockey was all he’d ever had, all he’d ever been good at, the only reason people had ever even liked him.
Except Eliot. Eliot’s friendship wasn’t based on what Danny did for a living.
It wasn’t even based on Eliot getting paid. If it was just about getting paid, he would have come over, taken a selfie, and left.
He wouldn’t still be here if he was only interested in the money. Danny knew that.
He couldn’t exactly figure out why Eliot wanted to be his friend, but he also didn’t care. It was nice to have someone on his side for once, someone who liked him as a person.
A comfortable silence fell as the two of them kept eating, Danny getting out his phone to turn the stereo on for some background noise. This was a huge improvement on what he’d been expecting his birthday would be like.
“Thank you,” he said eventually, as he poured himself a second glass of wine. “For coming over, I mean. I thought I was gonna be alone today. And I know birthdays are just another day, but…”
“This one was a milestone,” Eliot said. “I thought about dragging you out somewhere for it, but you don’t strike me as the type who’d enjoy that.”
Danny raised an eyebrow. “Where would you have dragged me?”
Eliot shrugged. “I had a brief thought about taking you boy-watching at a gay bar. Since I’m guessing you never really got to go.”
“Ooh, you dodged a bullet there. I can’t dance to save my life,” Danny said. He appreciated the thought, though, and Eliot was right—he’d missed out on his clubbing days. Not that he would have been all that into it in the first place, but still.
“That’s a surprise. You’re very graceful on your skates. I bet you’re not as bad as you think.”
Eliot didn’t need to know that he wasn’t even a little bit graceful on his skates, not compared to other people. He was just good at forcing himself to go in the right direction. He couldn’t even turn properly.
“Well, luckily, we’ll never find out,” Danny said.
The moment he said it, the song changed. Eliot’s eyes lit up, and he sprang off the couch, holding his hands out to Danny.
“Slow dance,” he said, wiggling his fingers. “Come on, it’s your birthday and you don’t get offers from someone as cute as me every day,” he joked.
Danny wet his lips. He knew that he couldn’t dance to save his life, but that wasn’t really what Eliot was asking him to do.
With only a split-second to decide before Eliot rescinded the offer, Danny heaved himself off the couch and stepped around the coffee table to face Eliot. He couldn’t let Eliot help him up, that would have been too much of a hit to his already bruised ego.
“Okay,” he said nervously. “But if I break your foot, remember you asked for this.”
“You won’t break my foot,” Eliot assured him, stepping close and putting both hands on Danny’s waist.
For lack of any other idea what to do, Danny copied him and decided to let Eliot take the lead. He’d invited him to dance with the full knowledge that Danny didn’t really know how. It was on him to make the effort.
