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Judging by the way Zee celebrated, it was as if he’d orchestrated it all himself. That knowing look was back, more intense somehow, piercing right through him, making his insides turn to soda pop, fizzing up to his throat.
“Come on,” Bergy protested in the locker room after their decisive win. “You two are coming out with us.Two goals, Zammy!”
Zee shook his head. “Sorry, I planned something special already.”
Bergy opened his mouth as if he were going to argue but then waved him off with a muttered, “Hopeless.”
Apparently, Ishir didn’t have a say in it. One minute Zee was telling him to leave his suit jacket behind, and the next he was being manhandled into a gay bar that seemed to be decorated exclusively with glitter and weird sculptures of eyes with wings.
Cielo, as the place was called, wasn’t yet packed as they walked inside. Zee steered Ishir to the bar, nabbing two seats. The other end of the large room was pulsing with music, the dance floor thrumming with people, but it was marginally quieter where they were.
“You know I don’t need a wingman, right?” Ishir grumbled.
“Oh, come on. This is your first two goals, like…wait, are you even allowed to have sex in the summer?”
“You need to stop asking me about that.” There was no way Ishir was explaining his intricate reward system for his workout routine in the off-season.
“Well, whatever. You’re getting laid, and I’m helping a bro out.”
“You know we’d both deal with a lot of shit if someone recognised us.”
“Oh, yeah, the gays in Portland…big hockey fans,” Zee drawled.
“Okay, stereotype much?” Ishir said even though it was true. Ishir had a number of cities he felt comfortable picking up in, and Portland was definitely on the list.
Zee ordered some fruity cocktails for both of them, delighting when they came with crazy straws. They both slurped at their drinks loudly, watching the liquid travel through the colourful loops.
Ishir smacked his lips happily. “This place is actually pretty cool. How’d you find it?”
“It’s a secret,” Zee stage-whispered, waggling his eyebrows.
“So, Google.”
“You’re no fun.”
Ishir sipped his drink. He’d barely drunk half, but Zee was already peering around, knee jiggling.
“Okay, let’s mingle,” Zee said.
“Dude, let’s just…chill.” Ishir could feel the static of embarrassment crinkle over his skin. Zee didn’tseriouslyexpect Ishir to pick someone up right in front of him, right?
“Oh, come on! Loosen up.”
Ishir huffed.
“I’ll choose for you if you want,” Zee suggested.
Ishir would have taken it as a joke if Zee hadn’t sounded so serious, voice low under the music. Even his expression had stilled into severe lines, eyes intent.
A thrill went through Ishir, the scrape of nails at the nape of his neck. It felt like a dare. Like a promise.
Ishir liked to think he wasn’t an impulsive person. He was measured and thoughtful, could even be overly cautious at times.
Right then, though, all those qualities melted away in the light-beam of Zee’s stare.
“Okay,” Ishir’s mouth agreed before his brain could catch up.
Something lit up in Zee’s dark eyes. “Okay.”
