“Their teammates might still wish that,” Ramsey joked.
Dean turned to Nate then and asked in a low voice, “So, tell me how it is dating a guy who could run a small country?”
Even if Ramsey hadn’t been able to hear him, Nate would’ve answered the exact same way.
“Fucking amazing, actually? Some guys get boyfriends who are good at a few things, right? I get one who’s killer on the ice, smarter than everyone he’s ever met combined, and so hotpeople literally turn and look at him as he walks down the street.” Nate paused. “It’s win-win-win.”
Dean tilted his head, considering this. “Some guys might be intimidated.”
“Some guys have small dicks too.”
Dean barked out a laugh. “Brody said he thought we’d get along and I thought he was full of shit, but I should know better, now, than to underestimate his gut instincts.”
“Let me guess, you get it.”
“Brody could’ve done anything he wanted. The Hurricanes were wild for him to come play for them. He graduated two years ago, but they still reach out periodically. Willing to place him with their AHL affiliate if he decided med school wasn’t for him. Even offered to trade him to a team in California, if that was a sticking point. He could’ve gone pro but he wants to use that ridiculous brain to help people instead. Andhewants to be withme.” Dean shook his head. “What’s there to be upset about?”
Nate had a feeling that was a long speech for Dean Scott, and that was confirmed when Brody leaned over, nudging him with a shoulder and tilting his head up towards his boyfriend. “I guess youdolike him. Said more than three words to the guy.” He turned to Nate. “That’s unusual, by the way.”
“Not surprised,” Ramsey said, sipping his drink. “Nate’s the best. Easy to talk to.”
By halfway through the meal, Nate was actually almost a little disappointed that Dean and Brody lived out in California. And a glass and a half of red wine in, he didn’t bother holding that opinion in. Or the opinion that Dean should leave California and come to Toronto. Play for the Thunder. Anchor the other side of Dean’s line.
But when he suggested that, Dean just laughed. “And leave behind my three hundred plus days of sunshine forToronto?Fuck no, dude. I’m honored, but no.” His face turned sly then. “But maybe I could temptyou,”he said.
It might have been tempting once, but not anymore. “Not as long as Ramsey plays for Buffalo,” he said.
Ramsey looked surprised by this, but he shouldn’t be. They hadn’t talked about it, but surely, he knew how serious Nate was. Nate knew how serious Ramsey was, even if he never said it out loud. It was evident and obvious in every secret he’d held close to his chest that he volunteered to Nate, now. In the way they kissed. In the way every night and every morning, even in sleep, Ramsey’s arm always seemed to reach for him, unconscious and instinctual.
Even if he’d been in relationships before, Nate would still believe that this was serious, but the truth was, Ramsey hadn’t been. He’d never done this before. He’d neverwantedto do this before.
“Serious,” Brody teased, but Ramsey didn’t argue. Didn’t look displeased, just still slightly astonished, like Nate had said something he hadn’t anticipated.
Nate wanted to ask him about it but then his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was set todo not disturb, except for his favorites list. And there was only one guy on the favorites list that Nate would be tempted to pick up for right now—the other was sitting next to him.
“I gotta grab this,” he said apologetically, pushing away from the table.
He glanced at Ramsey, who just nodded. There was no way he didn’t know who it was. Ducking out of the private dining room to an empty hallway that led to the bathrooms, Nate picked up the call.
Jordan was breathless and laughing when Nate said, “You okay, bud?”
He thought he could hear a false note in the laughter, but it was impossible to tell for sure, not with all the background noise wherever Jordan was.
Though if he was being honest, he already knew where Jordan was.
The only question was which strip club he’d ended up in, and which one Nate was going to have to head to, ducking out of this dinner he was very much enjoying.
“I’m fucking fine, dude. Don’t worry about me. I’m worrying about you. Getting all stuffy and settled.”
Nate rolled his eyes. Last night with Ramsey in his jersey and in his bed, he hadn’t exactly felt stuffy.
“I’m good,” Nate said. Wincing, he added, “Are you sure you’re good?”
“Oh my God, Big Dog, I’m fucking fine. It happens.” The fake note was back, and this time Nate was ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure he heard it. “Stop angsting about it and get your ass over here. Party with me.”
“What are we celebrating?” Nate asked, putting off answering for now. He didn’t want to go to a strip club and hang out with Jordan. It would no doubt be another kind of situation like it had beenlasttime Jordan had hit the fake panic button and dragged both Nate and Ramsey away from their date.
Nate really didn’t want to do it again. Not like this, with a couple he was actually enjoying hanging out with.
