“I don’t know if he’d even believe that.”
Ramsey looked surprised for the first time since Jordan had come up. “Oh, come on. Yeah, he would.”
“You saying I’m scary?”
“Terrifying,” Ramsey declared dryly. He didn’t hesitate in plucking the phone out of his hands though, fingers flying over the screen as he typed out a message. When he returned it toNate, he hadn’t sent the message. It was still sitting there in drafts, cursor blinking.
Have fun but not too much. I have a hot date tonight and trust me, you don’t want to interrupt it.
“Hot date, huh?” Nate asked.
Ramsey’s expression didn’t even waver. “How would you describe it?”
For a moment, Nate considered telling him that sushi delivery and holding hands on the couch probably didn’t crack his top ten, but then he’d never done those things with Ramsey either.
Hadn’t even let himself dream about it.
“Fair,” Nate finally agreed. He pressed Send and then set the phone screen-down on the counter. “Come on,” he said. “The food won’t be here for another half an hour or so. I think that’s plenty of time for hand holding practice.”
He held his hand out, not sure if he was calling Ramsey’s bluff or his own.
Ramsey looked at his hand, looking as unsure as Nate had ever seen him, but then that look wiped clean, like it had never existed. “You’re sure I’m capable of it on an empty stomach?” he teased lightly.
“Let’s just give it a try, anyway.”
Ramsey’s gaze flicked to Nate’s eyes, and then back to his hand. He exhaled softly. “Alright,” he said and fit his hand into Nate’s.
Nate had big hands, and Ramsey’s weren’t small either, but they still fit flawlessly together. Their callouses sliding together, Nate’s from the weight room and Ramsey’s from so many years of stickhandling. Different, maybe, but still complementary.
“See?” Nate said, squeezing Ramsey’s hand as he led them to the couch in the living room. “Not terrible.”
Ramsey’s chuckle was a little unsteady, and when they sat, Nate didn’t miss the few inches that he left between them, or the way he didn’t let go of his hand.
“You want to watch something?” Nate asked. “A movie? TV show?”
Nate should’ve known that Ramsey wouldn’t take the hand holding crack lying down. “Oh,” Ramsey said, “I know there’s an early game on. Minnesota versus Vancouver.”
“Vancouver doesn’t have a football team,” Nate said, pretending ignorance just to experience the cat-stole-the-cream smile that Ramsey gave him.
“No, they don’t,” Ramsey agreed. He turned towards Nate. “Do you know how much fuck ass football Wes has made me watch in the last three months?”
“No?” But Nate could imagine.
“You owe me this, Nathaniel.”
“I kinda thinkWesowes you this,” Nate argued, even though he knew exactly what he was going to end up turning on the TV: Minnesota versus Vancouver.
Hockey, and not football. And he was probably going to pretend not to like it, all the while secretly enjoying every moment. Not because he liked hockey particularly but because he’d like watching Ramsey watching it. He’d hoard every moment Ramsey let down his guard, to lean in and explain some particularly confusing penalty to Nate.
“But Wes isn’t even here,” Ramsey said, with a wide-eyed innocence that was so goddamn good Nate might’ve believed it was true and real, even if he hadn’t personally experienced just how innocent Ramsey wasn’t.
Nate groaned, at least ninety percent of it fake as hell, and picked up the remote. “What channel? The fuck ass Canadian channel?”
Ramsey elbowed him. “We’re in Canada, you idiot,” he said.
That was fair. He navigated through the ESPN app until he found the game.
The first period was just starting, and Nate was rewarded by Ramsey settling in more comfortably next to him. Relaxing, not all the way, but more.Enough.At least for now.
