Page 85 of Replay

“Because one night I tagged along to karaoke night, got drunk as shit thanks to Bellamy, and slept it off on their couch. When I woke up, it was 2 a.m., and they were eating chips and watching some chick flick while talking about their favorite sex positions and the riskiest place they had ever had sex before.”

“Shit, I wanna be at that type of roomie hangout,” Nola chimes in.

Casually, I nod my chin to Graham. “So what was Berkley’s answer?” At the same time, a broody Cash asks, “And what did Bellamy say?”

“Nuh uh… It was part of the sacred girl night. I ain’t telling y’all shit.” He pretends to zip his mouth shut to further annoy us.

The crew for the shoot interrupts, passing each of us fresh Gatorade bottles.

My eyes meet Graham’s playfully. “This ain’t over, buddy.”

Then our attention is brought back toward the photoshoot by the assistant letting us know our group is up next for positioning.

“Bro, you’re staring again,” Cash growls at Maverick as we watch on while the basketball teams are placed where they want them for the shoot.

I follow his trail of vision and find him watching the point guard of the men’s team with his girlfriend, Shay Moore, the star of the women’s team.

“Shut the fuck up, Cash. I know you aren’t talking. Do you want me to start calling you out on your shit?”

They often pick on each other, but that’s the first time I’ve seen Maverick have a serious tone, which further proves there’s likely some truth to Cash’s accusation.

“Okay, boys, we need both the Leblancs behind the basketball players. We’re doing winter sports on this side.”

Turning around, the photographer walks backward, glancing at Nola, Graham, and me. “We’ll get some shots with you three and the twins after the big group, so just hang tight.”

We all nod, since we were briefed on this earlier. Gatorade learned that Graham and the twins are cousins, so they contacted them, interested in featuring them in a special shot today. However, one of the writers at The Howler Report told Gatorade that we all lived at The Wolves Den together, so they decided to include all five of us in the extra shoot.

Cash and Maverick make their way over to where she’s pointing. I wait for Mav to make a smart comment about how hockey is the most elite winter sport, but instead, he’s unnaturally quiet.

I observe Shay, who glances at Maverick before her boyfriend slings his arm around her shoulder and she quickly looks ahead.

I think I just discovered another thing the Leblanc twins have in common with their polar opposite personalities.

They’re both pining after girls they can’t have.

Thankfully, the main part of the shoot is over within twenty minutes, and the crew dismisses everyone but my roommates and me.

The photoshoot with the guys has been the best part of the whole thing.

We’re able to laugh and cut up, just being ourselves.

The photographer shows us one of her favorites of the candid shots on the screen of her camera. Nola’s jumping on Graham’s back, just like he does every time Graham scores a touchdown. I’m in a squatted position, throwing up the wolf sign, and on the other side of me, the twins are mid secret handshake that they do on the ice.

It strikes me as I look at the smiles on their faces, how close I’ve gotten with Nola, Cash, and Maverick in a short period of time. And my relationship with Graham has only grown even stronger. He’s been there for me at all stages of my life, and I’m forever grateful to him for that. I can’t wait to see where the draft takes him after this year.

In Texas, I always felt like such a huge part of me was missing because of Berkley, but I also don’t think I had truly found my people until I came here.

“We need to frame that one and put it up in The Wolves Den,” I say proudly.

The photographer smiles. “We work with a high-quality printing company, so how about I send you guys some copies.”

We all nod, collectively telling her we’d appreciate that.

Once we finish, the guys set a plan in place for a true roomie night. With hockey now in full swing, we’re all exhausted and want to take advantage of a no game weekend.

“Okay, but can the girls come too? They always make shit more fun,” Nola asks, and I smile, because he’s right. And because I don’t really want to spend my free Saturday night without my girl.

“They’re basically like honorary Wolves Den members,” Mav says. Everyone nods in agreement that they should come.

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