Page 131 of Hockey Bois
Brady pulled out his phone. “Looks like six-ish? If I can drive faster than twenty, anyway. We get clear roads, I can make up some ground but not a lot. We still got plenty of time. It’s only the afternoon.”
“With no chance of the sky clearing up. What if it goes all night?”
“I can drop you off in DC if you need me to. Help you avoid the Metro if we end up being that tight.”
Nick buried his face in his hands. He’d resigned himself to staying here a few hours at least; his heart had barely calmed down from being out in the storm, and he was serious about his ditch concerns. His garbage work issues weren’t Brady’s problems, period, and they werenotworth totaling Brady’s Jeep in an accident.
Still, it gave him a headache to think about dealing with his boss tomorrow if he was late, never mind if he missed work entirely. He’d have to email his bossandhis HR person as soon as he knew for sure he’d be out; maybe he should do it preemptively once they got a room.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nick said with a fake calm he hoped he’d be able to maintain long enough to get some sleep. “I’ll need to stop by my place to change anyway. Crazy as it sounds, I didn’t pack any work-appropriate attire for my hockey tournament in another country.”
“Well,” Brady said solemnly, “now you know better.”
Nick huffed a laugh. “Guess so. Let’s eat and get a room. Maybe we can nap before we head out again.”
*
“What do you mean there’s only one bed?” Nick said dumbly.
The receptionist shrugged. “It looks like a biblical flood out there. Everyone’s trying to get off the road and hunker down. We’ve only got the one room left; take it or leave it.”
“It’s a double bed, right?” Brady said. Fuck him for his calm, disinterested voice.
Good idea. Fuck him.
Ugh, not helping.
“It is,” the receptionist confirmed.
“We’ll take it.” Brady slid his credit card across the counter. “Two keys, please. Upstairs or downstairs?”
“Downstairs. Second from the end. You’re gonna get soaked.”
“Already are.”
Nick was so in shock, he was a good five feet behind Brady as he headed to the doors.
“Should we get our stuff?” Brady asked. There was a seemingly impenetrable wall of water between them and the car. At least the pathway to the downstairs rooms looked relatively covered, though it leaked enough that the receptionist was 100% correct in his assessment that they’d get soaked.
Again.
We’re going to share a bed…?
He shook his head and tried to concentrate.
What had Brady asked?
Oh, right.
“Why bother? Do we even know how long we’ll be here?”
“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I could use some dry underwear and socks.”
Nick flushed. He’d seen Brady in his underwear many times in the locker room. Now, it would be in a shared motel roomwith one bed. “You wearsandals,” he sputtered. Footwear was a much safer topic. “Why would you evenneedsocks?”
“You get the door open for me, and I’ll grab your bag, too.”
Without giving Nick a chance to protest, Brady was swallowed by the rain, only his silhouette marking his progress.
