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“No, Hayes. You cannot leave the hockey arena drunk, wearing all your stank-ass gear back to the hotel. Can you imagine those social media posts? Come on now, get up.”
“Ugh!” Hayes stood up, stumbled, and attempted to pull his jersey up over his head. Ryan had gotten down to just his hip and shoulder pads in the time it’d taken Hayes to finally get the jersey off. Shaking his head, Ryan took off the rest of his gear and pulled on his sweatpants.
“Come here.” He grabbed Hayes and helped him remove the rest of his gear while he slumped over like a dead fish. It took about 10 minutes, but he managed to get all of it off and get him dressed, too.
“Get some rest, boys,” Rizz ordered, coming through the locker room. “You guys looked like total shit out there.”
And rest they did.
But it didn’t help much.
That night’s 7:05 p.m. game against Wilkes-Barre/Scranton was, as expected, a complete blowout. Most of the guys had sobered up, Hayes included, but were exhausted from being so hungover all day. Many of them weren’t able to even make it through their 45-second shifts, and the number of penalties they’d taken, including offsides and icing, made the game go on forever. Regulation had ended at an unheard-of 10:10 p.m., with most of the fans having bounced early, knowing that at 7-3, there was zero chance of a Bridgeport comeback.
Hastings hadn’t even bothered to address them afterward; he just left for the hotel, leaving Rizz to deal with the team.
“Boys, that was the worst game any team has ever played in the history of professional hockey. I’m embarrassed to call myself a part of this team tonight. And, for the record.” He got right in Hayes’s face. “This shit does not happen the night before a game, ever again. Are we fucking clear?”
“Yes, Cap.”
“And none of you better even think about going anywhere but to your hotel rooms to go to sleep.” With that, he stormed off to the showers.
“I think I might just shower back at the hotel,” Hayes told Ryan. “I just wanna get the fuck outta here, man.”
“That’s fine. I’ll meet you back at the room then. I’m way too gross to even think about putting my suit back on right now.” He wrapped a towel around his waist, having taken off all his gear.
“I don’t even fuckin’ care. See you over there.”
Heading into the shower, Ryan closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let the water run over him for a good five minutes while he tried to calm the anxiety he felt beginning to creep up. Not only had he just skated in the shittiest hockey game ever played, but he was about to head back to a hotel room with Hayes, and he couldn’t decide whether or not he should go for it.
He couldn’t deny it anymore; there was something there between them, though he didn’t really understand what it was. He’d hooked up with other guys before, but he’d never really been attracted to one the way he was to Hayes, even having jerked off to him several times over the past few weeks. Ryan tried to remember when he first felt it and decided it may have been the night they first talked on the bus ride home from Lehigh Valley when Hayes had fallen asleep with his head on his shoulder.
Thinking back to all the issues he had with Amara and Hayes, he realized that, despite what he’d told himself, the jealousy he’d felt hadn’t been solely about Amara. He rinsed the soap off his body, wondering if it was even possible to have feelings for two people at the same time, which he deemed a valid concern, considering Ryan Baylor hardly ever felt anything for anyone.
He finished showering, dried off, got dressed, and gathered up his belongings from his stall.
“Baylor!” Rizz yelled, just as he was heading out the door. “Hang on.”
Great. Here we go.
“What’s up, Cap?”
“You carried this shit show tonight. I wanted you to hear it. Your feet are finally moving, man. It’s incredible. Team played like ass tonight, but you held it down.” He held out his hand, and Ryan shook it.
“Wow. Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
“Do me a favor? When you get back to your room, bitchslap Hayes for me. I love him, but kid’s a total dumbass sometimes.”
“Will do,” he said, making his way out of the locker room, to the arena’s exit, and ultimately across the street to the hotel.
When he’d gotten up to their room, he went to put the key card in the door and froze. Soon, he found himself pacing back and forth outside the door, in much the same way he had before losing his virginity to his rival’s hot mom in juniors.
There’s nothing to be worried about. Just go in there, act normal, and if something happens, it happens, he reasoned with his thoughts.
“Fuck you doin’, Baylor?” a voice said, startling him. He jumped and saw Seggy coming down the hall with a bucket of ice.
“I, uh, I just forgot my key card…oh wait, there it is,” he replied awkwardly, fumbling in his pocket as it dropped onto the floor.
Seggy just looked at him and shook his head as he walked by. “You’re an odd fuckin’ duck, Baylor. You know that?”
