Chapter One
Harris
“Are we staying and getting another round of drinks or what?” Rex asks quietly as he looks down at the bill, his voice so low it’s almost a rasp, yet somehow it still seems out of place here.
The sound of classical music playing in the background blends with the sounds of champagne flutes clinking together reminding me we’re definitely not at Hudson’s. But I did this to myself, it was my dumbass idea that we start to branch out a bit. Really figure out where we could get the best wings for Wing Wednesday.
I just figured they would choose somewhere they actually serve wings. But Max is just… Max. He’s kind of his own little breed, always doing things the way he wants. And right now, he’s apparently in his boujee era based on the choices of caviar and some sort of crostini type thing with stuff I’ve never heard of on top of it. All I can think about is how bad I want some extra spicy wings and beer.
Apparently, next time I need to spell out that Wing Wednesday should always have fucking wings. Non-negotiable.
“Here?” Miles asks, his brow quirked and nose scrunched as he looks around. He looks just as uncomfortable as I feel, and Ihave to force down another laugh with a mouthful of expensive bourbon that isn’t worth the price tag.
When it comes to bourbon, it’s not that I’m against spending the money on a quality bourbon, I just hate when I spend the money and it’s not even good. I may make a pretty penny playing in the NHL but that doesn’t mean I want to burn it all just for the hell of it. And expensive bourbon just for the sake of being expensive is not what I’m about.
“I mean… we—” Miles starts to say, but fortunately, Max interrupts him first.
“Look, as much as I enjoyed our dinner tonight, we all know a fancy restaurant every now and then is a good time, but… I think I prefer these nights out with Cassie. In a short dress, where I have easy access to play with her under the table,” Max says with a wink, but I know damn well he’s not lying.
“What? Are we not pretty enough?” Cade grumbles but I can see he’s trying not to smile.
“Sorry, Cade, you guys aren’t exactly my type. I like ‘em quite a bit shorter, blonde, and with enough attitude she’s almost mean… and if I’m going to choke on the pretentiousness of this place, I’d prefer her choking on me afterward.”
“No offense taken,” Rex says coolly. “We all know I’d rather your sister swallow my cock than you, Maxy Baby.”
Max just flips him off. It took them a little while at first, but they’ve gotten really close since Max started playing on Rex’s team and Rex started dating Sawyer, Max’s sister. Once Max started to date Cassie, Sawyer’s best friend, it sort of became water under the bridge.
I love seeing my friends so happy—even if every time I listen to them talk about their girls, I think ofher.
I’ve done everything I can to push thoughts of her down, but if I’m being honest they’ve been more and more frequent theselast few weeks, ever since she didn’t show up to Rex’s mom’s gala alongside herlovelyfiancé.
“Can we just pay our tab and go to Hudson’s? I’m dying for a cold beer and an order of honey barbeque wings,” Trevor says.
“Deal,” Max says, his whole face lighting up at the idea, which means I have to dim it down a bit.
“But, Maxy baby, don’t fuck up your wing night again or you’ll get your decision-making power revoked. Wing night should have wings. Say it with me—wiiiings.”
“Fuck off, Danielson, I’m helping you be more cultured.”
“Well, do it better. One more strike and you’re out, this ain’t baseball, we’re playing by my rules,” I joke, adding a wink for good measure before laying down cash to cover our bill. “Let’s go, I don’t want to wait for our server to make his way back to us, his pretentiousness might be contagious.”
I may be an asshole, but it’s only ever for fun. Or at least, that’s my intention. I always want to make people laugh and have a good time. It takes a lot to bring that other side of me out, and it’s something I’ve honestly worked to keep buried down. It was never a problem in college—I was always level-headed, but willing to drop gloves if the situation called for it. After college, I didn’t handle my emotions in a healthy way and I used to let a lot of things get under my skin the first few years in the NHL. I had a lot of pent-up frustration and uncaged emotions which meant I dropped gloves on the ice damn near every game. Sometimes, more than once. One too many fights as a rookie mixed with a furious coach who threatened to trade me to the lowest ranked team in the league, and I knew I had to get my shit together.
It didn’t matter that I was one of the best defensemen in the league, even as a rookie. Nope, all of the good was overshadowed by a few unnecessary fights on the ice. Okay, quite a few of them. Every time it happened, I would end up sitting in the tiny little time-out box while I watched my team fight on the ice aman down—which, more often than not, is when the other team would end up scoring the winning goal.
It still sucks knowing I damn well could’ve been the reason we lost quite a few of those early games.
Hudson’s feels like home.
It’s dark, moody, and the music is never consistent unless Gwen’s here dominating the Jukebox, but it feels comfortable. So far, the music has been an eclectic mix of Olivia Rodrigo, Led Zeppelin, and Garth Brooks—sort of all over the place but that’s what makes me love it so much here.
There’s always a place for everyone here.
Plus, Andrew and Sandy are always here, and they give us the best service with Sandy always remembering the extra ranch our table requires. I’m still not exactly sure how we go through as much ranch as we do, especially on the weeks the girls stay back. I choose to blame Cade, though, because I’m positive he just drinks the ranch like a milkshake, treating the wings like sprinkles.
“This is so much better,” Miles says as he leans back in the booth and looks out around the bar, probably seeing how many of his frequent flyers were around tonight.
You know, options.