Page 60 of Cross Ice

“Mostly,” I said. “It’s an adjustment.”

“That’s honest.” He let that sit for a moment. “You know you can call me when it’s not okay, right? When you’re trying to figure it out.”

“I know.”

“I’m serious, Evan. You spent three years handling everything alone with Ryan because he made you feel like your concerns were an inconvenience. I’m not letting that happen again.”

The directness of it caught me off guard, the way Danny’s candor sometimes did even after three years of friendship. “I know,” I said again, meaning it more this time.

“Good.” His voice warmed. “How’s the work going?”

We talked for another twenty minutes about a client presentation I was behind on, about his boyfriend Elliot’s impossible hours, about nothing particularly significant. When we hung up, I felt lighter rather than unsettled. It hadn’t always been that way. Not in the beginning, when I’d first moved to San Jose and Danny had been the only person who knew the whole story. Then, every check-in had carried the weight of what I’d told him about Ryan.

There was no longer any weight.

By seven that evening, I’d settled on my couch with a beer to watch the game, Ice Hockey for Beginners at my side.

The first period was fast and fierce. Florida came out strong, and I winced when Nico got checked hard into the boards. But he popped right back up and kept playing.

I was starting to understand that was just how hockey worked. The hitting, the physicality, the way players crashed into each other at full speed and then just kept going.

It still made my stomach churn every time.

The Lasers scored first, and I grinned. Nico hadn’t been involved in the play, but it was still his team, and I was apparently a person who cheered for his team now. Second period, Nico got his chance. He picked up a loose puck and put it in the net so fast I almost missed it.

Goal.

I jumped to my feet with my arms in the air. “Yes!” My voice cut through the cheering on the TV.

San Jose won 4–2, and I texted Nico immediately.

Evan

Congrats on the goal and the win!

Half an hour later, I received a reply.

Nico

Thanks. See you tomorrow. Can’t wait.

I put my phone down and went to bed. For once I didn’t lie there second-guessing anything.

Tuesday evening, I stood in my kitchen with salmon marinating and rice steaming in the cooker, more nervous than I should have been about cooking dinner for my boyfriend.

Nico showed up at six. When he leaned in to kiss me, I caught the clean scent of his body wash. He handed me a bottle of wine. “I’m starving.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

“I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

He settled onto one of my kitchen stools while I finished the vegetables, and we fell into conversation about his teammates and my clients, comfortable in a way that loosened my shoulders.

By six thirty, we were sitting at my dining table with plates of salmon, brown rice, and roasted vegetables.

“This is really good,” Nico said after his first bite of salmon.

“You sound surprised.”