Page 42 of Barn Burner
“There he is!” Cooper says, pointing to where Brayden does a few laps around their side of the ice, circling the back of the net and back to the blue line, then back round again.
He comes to a stop at the blue line and bends forward, resting his stick across his thighs. His back is to us. The “NIELSON” on his jersey is clear as day, and a sense of pride courses through me.
He’s so majestic. And so fucking handsome it hurts.
I can imagine he’s feeling anxious about me finding out this side of him, especially given the spotlight on him. I ended up reading all of the articles, and not just the recent ones, but from when he was drafted. He’s had this pressure on him since before he played his first game in the National Hockey League, and the expectations of him have only continued to grow.
I also found the photoshoot and article he did forQueervolutionmagazine, along with a group of athletes from other sports around the globe. Not only is he in the top five greatest hockey players of his generation, but he’s openly bisexual, and that in itself has come with additional attention.
So, I don’t blame him for being wary, or for withholding this from me, or us, and I’m going to make sure he knows that.
I’m unable to take my eyes off him as he goes through various drills, both solo and with his teammates, and then when he moves down onto the ice and begins to go through his stretches, I forget to blink or breathe.
Brayden leaves the ice before the end of warm-ups, but he’s soon back in my sights when he comes back out for the national anthem. We all stand up, and just as he did on TV, he stands on the blue line and shifts from skate to skate. His stick bounces ever so slightly, like his arm has its own vibration, but it doesn’t touch the ice. He stares up at the pennants hanging in therafters, and the second the song ends, he’s off. He pivots on his skates, grabs his helmet from the bench, then does a lap around the net. He crouches down, shimmies his hips, then lines up to take the face-off.
My heart is in my throat the entire time Brayden’s on the ice. I swear I don’t blink. I just keep my eyes fixed on him, not wanting to miss a single nanosecond of him in action. I’m on the edge of my seat as he takes shots on goal, but the goaltender for Vegas bats away every attempt he makes.
The first period goes scoreless, but when they come back out for the second period, the camera pans over Brayden’s face, and I’ve never seen him look so serious. Those soulful brown eyes are ultra focused, a small crease between his furrowed brows as he chews on his mouth guard . And what I wouldn’t give to slide my mouth over those slightly parted lips.
Rhett and Cooper are animated beside me, cheering and chirping the other team. But I’m silent. I can’t speak because I’m vibrating with so much energy right now, I’m either going to explode with pride or explode with frustration every time a player comes into contact with Brayden.
A Vegas player gets a penalty for slashing, and then the Bobcats are on a power play. Brayden’s presence dominates the ice. He passes the puck to his teammates and repositions himself. Vegas are preoccupied with the others, and then the puck is sent to Brayden, who is lined up perfectly and sends it flying into the top right corner. I’m on my feet, pumping my fist in the air and clapping so hard my palms sting. Brayden raises his arms in celebration as his teammates swarm around him as the goal horn sounds. Then, to my complete surprise, Big & Rich’s “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” blares through the speakers. Brayden separates from his teammates, skating back up the ice before squatting down. He puts his hockey stickbetween his legs and waves his left arm in the air, just like he did when he was on that mechanical bull.
I can’t stop the laughter that spills out. He might not have told me that this is his life, but he’s still brought a little bit of the Huxley life back with him.
“He’s so fucking amazing,” Cooper shouts over the cheering crowd.
All I can do is nod in agreement, unable to tear my eyes off the man who is quite possibly the most incredible man I’ve ever met.
We make our way to the first bar on the list, hoping it’ll be the right one. The Bobcats won the game, so I’m certain Brayden will be making an appearance.
Sliding onto one of the stools, Cooper orders us some drinks while we look over the menu. After the price of the beers, I didn’t want to risk Rhett having a fit over the cost of food at the arena, so we all agreed to grab something here. I’m assuming it’s going to take a while for Brayden to get out, so we have time to eat and for me to mentally prepare on how I’m going to let him know we’re here.
We eat our food and chat about random shit for almost two hours when the doors open, letting in a blast of frigid air. I shiver at the cold, and then my brain short-circuits when I hear it. The sound of Brayden’s laughter. My spine straightens, and I glance over at Cooper and Rhett, subtly shaking my head. I don’t want to make a scene. I want to approach him when he’s on his own. Let him decide how he wants to play this, because while he might be out, he might not want to have his relationship made public.
I card my fingers through my hair, feeling a little lost without my hat. We all ditched the cowboy hats tonight, opting to leave them at home as we weren’t sure what the vibe of these places was, but now I miss having something to hide beneath.
Subtly looking over my shoulder, my eyes find him instantly. He’s with a group of five guys, all of them laughing and looking genuinely pleased.
As they should be.
Brayden says something to one of the guys, then points toward the corridor for the washrooms. His friend nods, and then Brayden disappears, and I slide off my seat.
Leaning my shoulder against the wall, I wait outside, not wanting to be a complete creep. My heart is going a mile a minute in my chest, beating like an erratic drummer. I wipe my sweaty palms down the front of my jeans, then cross my arms over my chest.
He steps out minutes later, mouthing along to the song that’s playing throughout the bar. When he catches sight of me, he freezes. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens and closes a few times, like he can’t quite comprehend what he’s seeing.
“Jesse?” he finally manages, but he doesn’t move any closer.
Fuck. Please don’t say I’ve messed this all up.
Uncrossing my arms, I shove my hands into the pockets of my jeans and give him a half smile. “Hey, Brayden.”
He blinks at me a few times, his dark brows furrowing in confusion.
“Wait, are you really here right now, or did I end up taking a snooze in the hot tub, and this is some kind of weird heat-induced hallucination I’m having?”
I chuckle, and he peers up at me in disbelief as I close the distance between us.
