Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,61
They think I made you up, anyway.”
Daniel tried a smile, and he did give Micah a kiss goodbye...but Micah still felt unsettled as he headed to the bar. Should he have insisted? That seemed like a crappy thing to do. He certainly wouldn’t have wanted to meet Daniel’s friends after that day the baby dolphin died at the aquarium. Was this even analogous? Was Micah making excuses?
Either way, he was alone when he showed up at the Fox and Hound. His friends were clearly disappointed that Daniel wasn’t with him, but they at least seemed to understand.
“They had the game on,” Justice explained.
“People were mad,” Ash added. “It didn’t look very fun.”
“Unless you were a fan of the other team,” her wife, Bethany, put in. “Then I bet it was a lot better.”
“Are you mad?” Quinton asked, as Micah settled down with a beer at their table, helping himself to some of the remaining appetizers.
“I guess not? Maybe? I don’t know,” Micah said, shrugging. “I know it’s not his fault he had a bad game.”
“I think it’s probably a good sign that he knows himself well enough to know he wouldn’t make the best impression,” said Bethany. She was a counselor at a local youth center, so she probably knew what she was talking about. “And it’s not like we won’t get another chance. This isn’t a major social event, it’s just late-night happy hour.”
“I missed Quinton’s birthday because of that—thing at work.” Micah had learned you didn’t say dead baby dolphin around people if you could help it. Too depressing. “But we’re all busy, and I don’t want you guys thinking I, you know. Made him up?”
“We don’t think that,” Bethany assured him. “But hey, we could always go to brunch tomorrow!” She brushed her dark brown hair back and gave him a hopeful smile. “We could go to Bleu. You know I love any excuse for brunch!”
“I could make it,” Ash said, winding her hand around her wife’s with a smile. “Gotta enjoy all these brunches before we have kiddos and do whatever people who have kids do on Saturdays, instead of brunches.”
Quinton gave Micah an I told you so look over the rim of his wineglass.
“I can text him, sure,” Micah said, pulling out his phone. He chewed on his lip. “I don’t know, though. Should I leave him alone?” He groaned. “Bethany, give me a book about how to have a functional relationship, please.”
“Why are you not asking me, hello, Justice and I are very happy!” Quinton pouted.
“Because Bethany’s a therapist, and you’re not?” Micah glanced at his phone, and he tried not to be disappointed that Daniel hadn’t texted him. It was late, Daniel was probably asleep. “What time tomorrow, for brunch?”
“Eleven. I’ll get us reservations in the morning, I know the manager.”
“She knows the manager,” Bethany stage-whispered.
“That was back in college!”
Micah half listened to his friends, letting their familiar banter wash over him as he sent Daniel a message. It took him a while to figure out what to say.
Missed you but everyone understands, and no pressure, but we’re going here for brunch tomorrow if you’re hungry. No pressure, just an invite, okay?
Micah sent along the location for Bleu, waited for a moment to see if Daniel responded, then resolutely put his phone away and turned his attention back to his friends. By the time he left for the evening, Daniel still hadn’t responded but Micah at least felt better about the whole thing.
After all, this was going to be part of it, right? Daniel couldn’t win every game, just like Micah couldn’t save every animal. If he was going to date someone for whom hockey was more than a sporting event to watch at a bar, he should probably get used to this. Right.
It might have been nice if he warned you, though, a little voice said. Tabby even said he’d lost games, before. What if it was just an excuse?
Micah put the thought out of his mind as he headed home. He had to trust that this was exactly what Daniel said it was, and not let himself worry it was some code for him not being good enough, or an excuse to leave. But in all his imaginings of what his issues with a future partner might be, he didn’t want to meet my friends because he lost a hockey game and got booed on national television sure wasn’t anywhere on the list.
* * *
“So, then, right, I told that motherfucker—”
“Bethany,