Page 142 of Hockey Bois
“No, because we apparently got a plant that requires a different pH level than what she has to work with and we were clearly setting her up for failure.” Mags shrugged at the shocked looks everyone gave him. “She takes things pretty seriously. So no gifts other than alcohol.”
“Alcohol, check,” Brady said with a nod. “We can handle that.”
“Ain’t the Fourth of July without it,” Mags said. “Significant others, kids, and friends are welcome. She’s got like ten acres, tents, cornhole, all the good shit. Bring a towel if you wanna swim or anything.”
“She has a pool?” Guy asked with surprise.
“Swim in theBay,” Mags clarified. “It might be a little chilly, but the water ain’t half bad.”
“Oh,” Guy said with a neutral tone and a disapproving expression.
“Guess they didn’t swim in bays up in Quebec?”
Guy wrinkled his nose. “We do notswimin water, we play hockeyonit. That is I think why we beat you in the Olympics, no?”
The locker room filled with boos, and half of them flung rolled-up balls of tape at him. He smiled gleefully (and caught or deflected every piece).
*
“You going to Mags’s thing?” Brady asked when they were out in the parking lot and more-or-less alone. Other people filtered in and out of the rink, but they were parked far enough away from the entrance that it gave the illusion of privacy.
“May as well. It’s either that or buy some sparklers and drink on my porch.” Nick dumped his hockey bag in his trunk, punching a lumpy end to make it fit better.
“That’s seriously your only other option?”
He looked Brady up and down as he slammed the trunk shut. “I mean, maybe not theonlyother option.”
Brady rolled his eyes fondly. “Get your head out of the gutter.”
As much as Nick wanted to keep teasing, he let it go. “You saying you wanna go?”
“Yeah. Kind of miss watching fireworks on the water.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” He licked his lips, wondering if this was really the time to say more. “Hey, are we—? Should we, uh—?” He saw Brady tense, arms rigid, his hands balling into fists in his pockets, and immediately changed course. “You coming over tonight?”
Brady relaxed. “Yeah, just gotta drop my gear off and shower.”
“Funny thing, though—I have a place for hockey gear at home,anda shower.”
Brady snorted. “Yeah, but I’ve got a gear dryer.”
“Sold. We’ll go to your place.”
Brady laughed. “All right. Guess we can do that.”
*
“Nickolas Jakob Porter, how dare you not come to me with this breaking news?”
Nick winced into his phone. He’d thought he’d put this conversation off for at least another week. “Hi. I’m fine, Jenna. Thanks for asking.”
“I can’t believe I have to find this stuff out from Terry’s girlfriend—of all people!—instead of from my own cousin! Look at the sentence I just said! As if ‘Terry’s girlfriend’ isn’t surprising enough!”
“Yeah, life’s strange like that.”
He switched the phone to speaker so he could read his messages. He double-checked the address and time they’d gotten from Mags, then switched to his conversation with Brady.
Brady (12:08 p.m.)
