Page 49 of Line Change

I put it on and go with him.

15

BEN

I’m not sure what to make of Marlowe’s. Or Tessa and Micah. Or the version of Fraser who sits in a worn-out booth and lets his friends give him shit.

At the rink, Fraser is an asshole who turns everything into a competition. Tessa and Micah gave him shit and he took it, and once they got going he didn’t seem like a professional hockey player at all.

A few people in the bar recognized us, but the looks never turned into requests for a picture or questions about the suspension. Thank fuck. Sitting in a gay bar already felt weird enough, even when nothing especially gay was happening.

The bar had rainbow stickers, and two men in the booth near the door sat with their arms around each other.

I’m the weird one.

Grayson would punch me if he could hear my thoughts.

He’s always known he’s queer. I have no idea what the fuck Nolan and I are doing.

I start the car, and Fraser buckles his seat belt. “When’s your car getting out of the shop?”

“Should be tomorrow or the next day. They had to get a part.”

That’s why I drove across town when he told me to pick him up, even though an Uber would’ve been easier.

I pull out of the lot. “Are you hungry?”

Fraser looks at me for long enough that I wonder if he expected us to go straight to his apartment. I want to, though dinner sounds good too.

“I could eat.”

I take the next right.

I found the burger place not long after I got to Seattle. It’s twelve minutes from Marlowe’s, on a side street between a dry cleaner and a pet-supply store. There are six tables inside and a counter where they pass out food in red plastic baskets. The burgers are good enough that I’ve come back twice.

Fraser leans forward when I turn into the lot. “I’ve lived here six years. How do you have a burger place I’ve never heard of?”

He’s supposed to know Seattle. Beating him to one good restaurant feels like a win.

The OPEN sign is still lit, but the place is almost empty. Two women are finishing a basket of onion rings near the window, and the clock over the register says nine fifty-three.

Fraser looks through the glass without reaching for his seat belt. “We can get it to go if you want.”

Marlowe’s comes back to me: the rainbow stickers, the men touching, the looks people gave us. I don’t want Fraser deciding I can’t handle a quiet restaurant with him.

I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door. “Inside’s fine.”

He gets out without saying anything about how long it took me to decide.

The woman behind the register is wiping down the counter when we walk in. I order a double cheeseburger and fries. Fraser studies the menu until she asks if he needs more time, then orders the same thing with jalapeños.

“Together,” I say when she asks. Fraser holds out his card. “Mine’s separate.”

I look at him. “I was getting yours.”

“You didn’t say that.” He taps his card against the reader before I can argue, and the woman gives him his receipt.

I pay for mine and follow him to a booth.