Page 27 of Bro Code

“I can’t steer if the sails aren’t right!” said Riley.

“Oh like you know!”

They were sitting opposite each other with their knees touching, in a boat that definitely felt like it might tip over at any moment. After everyone had partnered up and Riley had been the last man standing at the dock this morning, Coach Myers had stabbed his meaty finger at Louis, sitting on a bench with his laptop, and said, “You. With Webb.”

Louis hadn’t been expecting to get involved. It was the last team-building activity of the weekend and he was looking forward to being done with this whole thing. “Wouldn’t it be better if someone with more experience went out?” he’d said, nervously eyeing the water.

Riley, looking peeved at being left behind and not at all excited to be partnered with the nerd, grumpily said it was fine: he knew how to sail.

Ten minutes and half a lake later, it was clear he’d been lying about that.

“Didn’t the activities director give you guys a lesson earlier?” Louis grunted, wrapping both hands around the line.

“Yes, Louis, and obviously I wasn’t paying attention,” said Riley. “Pull!”

The rock loomed large and gray and solid as hell before them, and Louis jammed both bare feet against the side of the boat and leaned back in his seat, pulling with both hands. Riley slammed the steering thingy hard over to the right and they barely swished out of the way. Louis yelped as freezing water sloshed into the boat and down the back of his pants.

“Fils de pute!” He looked down. “Thanks a lot.”

“Maybe if you had pulled harder–”

“Maybe if you actually knew how to use the steering thingy!”

Riley tossed his head and turned his gaze over the water. “It’s called a tiller.”

“Oh, so that you know,” said Louis, pulling off his water-spattered glasses and drying them on his shirt.

They zigzagged out to the middle of the lake, dodging the other boats, which were manned by the rest of the team in pairs. Once they got away from the rocks it actually wasn’t too difficult to figure out how to turn it.

Louis put a hand over his brow and squinted at the boats ahead. “How come no one wanted to partner with you?”

Riley kept his eyes forward and lifted one shoulder. He pulled on the tiller to turn them and Louis quickly scrambled to pick up the rope and do his bit with the sail. They went along in silence for a few more minutes. Eventually, Riley said, “So did your boss figure out what’s wrong with me yet?”

Louis shook his head. “She thought it was a labrum tear, but apparently they can’t find anything in the data that supports that. So they’re looking for something else. I’m sure she’ll talk to you about it this afternoon.”

Riley nodded, eyes on the water.

“Personally, I don’t see why they think they’re going to find an injury when your old team couldn’t,” said Louis. “But it’s not really my job to have opinions about that.”

“You have them, though, I bet.” said Riley. He looked at Louis. “What do you think it is?”

“I have no idea. I don’t do that kind of analysis.”

“You’re telling me you sit there with your face two inches from your computer all goddamn day, staring at the numbers, and you don’t have any ideas?”

Louis hesitated. He did have some ideas, but he wasn’t confident enough in his understanding of anatomy to feel like they were worth anything. He picked up the rope again. “Like I said, it’s not my job to have ideas. I just manage the data.”

Riley rolled his eyes and turned his gaze ahead. He looked pretty cute in his little orange life vest. Like a real sailor, with the breeze rippling his hair and one hand on the tiller. Louis let his eyes roam from his fingers gripping the wood to the muscles flexing in his forearm, to where his bicep disappeared under the rolled cuff of his t-shirt, and up the side of his neck to the sharp edge of his jaw against the bright blue sky.

Maybe Calvin Klein could do another photoshoot. Keep the life vest, lose the shirt, little pair of striped undies…maybe a hat…

“Stop staring at me,” said Riley.

Louis felt his ears go hot. “I’m not staring,” he mumbled, gathering up the rope again and tugging on the sail.

As they turned, Riley said, “So how is it for you being gay in the NHL?”

Louis blinked and touched the bridge of his glasses with his knuckle. “Ah…what do you mean?”