10. Xander

Xander

"I can't wait for us to get started on the fillet," I said, stepping into Ry's apartment. Ry's apartment? Holy heck! When did I start referring to Bennett as Ry?

"Don't get too excited; it's just fish." Ry grumbled, though I could see the hint of a smile.

I took a moment to look around, taking in Ry's place. It was modest and meticulously tidy. The living room was small, furnished with a worn but comfortable-looking couch and a couple of mismatched chairs, facing a TV mounted on the wall. Beneath it was a shelf with a gaming console and a few games. A simple coffee table sat in the center, stacked neatly with hockey magazines and a remote control. The walls were adorned with a few framed photos – most of them of Ry on the ice, but a couple of what looked like family photos as well.

The kitchen was equally simple but functional. The counters were clean, with just a coffee maker, a toaster, and a few other essentials on display. A small dining table with two chairs stood by the window, which looked out onto the apartment complex's parking lot.

"Nice place," I said, meaning it. It felt lived-in and comfortable.

"Yeah, well, it's not much, but it's home." There was a hint of modest pride in his voice. "Now, are you gonna help with these vegetables, or are you just here to admire the decor?"

I chuckled, moving to the sink. "I'm here to help, of course. But seriously, it's nice. Suits you."

Ry grunted in response, but I could tell he appreciated the compliment.

On a whim, I'd sent the pun about cows and hooves and lactose that morning. I was still feeling a high from skating with him the night before – just the two of us – and then spending more time together talking about everything and nothing at the café. I never thought that that would lead to me having one of the best days of my life.

Ry's invitation to go fishing with him must have been as much of a surprise to him as it was to me. But I wasn't complaining. I never expected to enjoy fishing the way I did, and wished I'd learned how to do it sooner. Thanks, Ronald! I mentally berated my dad. But then again, it is what it is. No use regretting the relationship I'd had with my dad – well, both parents, actually – because I couldn't change a thing about it.

I was determined to learn as much as I could from Ry, both on and off the ice. His focused expression softened into a small smile as he glanced over at me, and for a moment, warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the heat of the kitchen.

Together, we chopped broccoli, carrots, and green beans, chatting easily as we worked. Ry showed me how to cut them up properly, his hands moving with the same confidence and precision he had on the ice. I watched him, my eyes tracing the veins in his forearms as he worked.

"You paying attention, or just daydreaming over there?" Bennett"s voice pulled me back to the task at hand.

"I"m paying attention," I said, shaking off my distraction. "Just trying to learn from the master."

"Good," he grumbled, though there was a warmth in his eyes that belied his tone.

Once the vegetables were steaming, we turned our attention to the fish. Ry demonstrated how to fillet it, guiding my hands with his own. The touch sent a jolt through me, making me hyper-aware of every brush of his fingers against mine.

We chatted easily as we worked. He shared stories about the team over the years, and I found myself laughing at his dry humor and quick wit. A sense of contentment washed over me. Cooking with Ry felt natural, effortless, like we'd been doing it for years. That didn't stop me from taking in the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he chopped the vegetables, or the strength in his arms, the way his muscles flexed with each motion of the knife. These were things I'd never paid attention to before – not in Ry, not in anyone.

And then there was his smile – rare, almost shy, but undeniably genuine. Warmth spread through me at the sight of it. It was moments like these that made me appreciate him even more, made me realize just how much he was coming to mean to me.

But it wasn"t just Ry"s actions that caught my attention. In the dim light of the kitchen, I noticed the subtle shades of brown in his hair, the way they caught the light and shimmered with hidden depths. It was a small detail, but it made me see him in a new light, made me appreciate the complexity and depth of his character.

As we sat down to enjoy the meal we had prepared together, I was grateful for this unexpected connection, for the opportunity to see Ry in a different light and to appreciate all the little things that made him who he was.

Spending the entire day with Ry had been beyond my expectations. It gave me the opportunity to see so much of him off the ice and to notice things I never did before.

But is that all, though? Isn't there an underlying tension between us? A feeling that I've never experienced with any person before?

After dinner and doing the dishes, we moved to the porch, the cool night air wrapping around us.

"Thanks for today," I said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I learned a lot and had a really great time."

"Me too. You weren't too bad for a rookie."

"High praise coming from you."

At some point, my eyes started to droop. "I should probably head home," I said, covering my mouth to stifle a yawn.

"You can crash on the couch," Ry offered, his eyes widening slightly as if he couldn"t believe he"d just invited me to stay. After a moment of what seemed like an internal struggle, he added, "It"s late."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

I nodded, too tired to argue, but I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us today. There was a new awareness between us, a connection that I hadn't felt before. It confused me, but it also felt... right.