Page 155 of Hockey Bois
“Yes.”
“Agoodplan?”
“Fuck if I know, but it’s a Brady-centric plan, so I should get points for that, right?”
“As a general rule, yes, it’s always better to come up with a birthday celebration that the birthday boy will like rather than something generic.”
“Cool. You mind if we swing by the mall and eat lunch at the food court? I gotta grab a gift.”
Jenna shrugged and put her phone away. “You know I love the food court. Let’s go.”
*
All evening, Nick waited with bated breath to see if anyone—and more specifically, Brady—would bring up the birthday. Nick had been new to the team this time last year (had he even beenonthe team prior to the eleventh? He couldn’t remember), it would’ve been an easy thing for him to miss. He’d thought about it on the drive to the rink, and he honestly couldn’t remember any mentions of birthdays for anyone on the team. The closest was the countdown to Young Greg’s 21st, and that was more of a running joke.
Brady said nothing about it. Nick watched carefully for any signs that tonight was in any way different from usual, but Brady was his normal self. Maybe 5% more subdued than usual, but that was barely noticeable; Nick questioned whether it was there at all. The only spark of birthday happiness was when Brady scored the team’s only goal of the evening on a turnover. He hadn’t done an extravagant celebration like Nick would’ve, but he’d smiled brightly and seemed pleased with himself.
Since Brady was clearlynotgoing to mention anything and offer Nick the opportunity he wanted, Nick would have to take matters into his own hands.
The timing was tricky. There was about a thirty-second window between when Brady took off his helmet post-game and when his hat reappeared on his head. Nick practically had to rush off the ice into the locker room to be in position, and then he neglected his own gear to calm down and lurk as unobtrusively as possible.
Brady offered him a half smile as he sat down next to him. He took off his helmet and dumped it in his gear bag, hands running through his sweat-dampened hair. His hat, some faded black thing with worn yellow stitching that might be for the Pirates or Pittsburgh in general, hung on the hook over his head. He reached up for it—
—and before he could transition between the two, Nick grabbed the hat he’d hidden in his hockey bag and put it on Brady’s head.
Brady sat there, hand still raised in confusion, fingers barely brushing the rim of his old hat.
Nick admired his handiwork, noticed it looked a little off, and turned the hat around so it was backward. Perfect, if he didn’t say so himself.
Brady sat there dumbly for so long that Nick nudged his shoulder. He obediently put his hand down and felt his head instead, as though he couldn’t recognize or comprehend the feeling of a hat there.
“Looks good on you,” Nick assured him with a wink.
Not believing him, Brady took off the hat and inspected it suspiciously.
Nick enjoyed the moment when Brady’s eyes went wide in surprise and a grin pulled at the corners of his lips, making rare dimples appear there.
The hat was a deep blue with the number 68 stitched in red and bordered in white, a hockey stick underneath it. It was a custom order and a relatively simple design—the best Nick could do with only a few hours’ notice—but he was sure he’d made the right choice.
“Czech colors?” Brady asked as he put the hat back on, this time leaving it facing forward to proudly display the front.
“I support your Jagr obsession, so yes. I donotsupport your unhealthy Pittsburgh focus. This seemed a fair compromise. What, you think you were born there or something?” he teased.
“Yes,” Brady deadpanned, though he couldn’t hide his amusement. “Thanks.”
Nick soaked up Brady’s happiness for a moment before he started undressing. He wanted a special moment, but he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to them. Not yet, not with that whole “boyfriend” discussion looming in front of them.
His eyes swept the locker room, starting with Gail since he expected her attention. Instead his eyes met with Lexi and GG, both of them staring between him and Brady’s new hat. He could practically see the cogs in their heads turning, suspicion clearly etched on GG’s face. Just as GG opened his mouth to say something to Lexi, Gail cut in.
“You always get yourself thrown in the box when you drop your coverage, Lexi?” she asked loudly. “I think GG’s tired of being stuck on the PK ’cuz of you.”
It was the perfect distraction, the exact catalyst for GG to air his complaints (again) and for Lexi to protest that it hadn’t even been a penalty, the guy had chicken-winged him to draw the call.
Note to self, Nick thought,no more locker-room shenanigans.He was thankful he didn’t have a fantasy of making out in the locker-room showers, because that would definitely get them into trouble.
Nick’s mind raced as he rushed to change. He didn’t want to think about the rest of the team or the “what are we?” talk or anything other than getting out of the rink and having Brady to himself. He could handle the uncertainty of their relationship as long as he got to spend time with Brady and earn soft smiles and knowing chuckles.
For now, anyway.
