Page 172 of Hockey Bois
“Gotcha. We avoid the nosy aunties and homophobic uncles as needed. I can handle that.”
Brady looked relieved. “Really?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“I dunno. Your family seems so… nice? And open? And I’ve got family I haven’t spoken to in like a decade because they make me uncomfortable.”
Nick shrugged. “You be in charge of your family stuff, I’ll be in charge of mine.” A pause. “Or rather we’ll both be at the mercy of my female cousins because Jenna is only the tip of the iceberg.”
“Oh, I remember the volleyball games.”
“See? If you can handle my overbearing family who will adopt you despite your unfortunate choice of hockey team, then whatever. Besides, we’re a secret couple at the moment, so it’s not even relevant until you say it’s relevant.”
Brady looked like he might actually be swooning at Nick’s words of support and encouragement. He hesitated, then took Nick’s hand in his and twined their fingers together.
Ontopof the bar.
“Look at you,” Nick said, voice low as he leaned into Brady’s space. “Holding my hand in public for allfiveof the other patrons of this fine establishment to see.”
Brady’s face flushed an attractive pink that really shouldn’t be as adorable as it was. “Baby steps, right?” Brady muttered, though he looked very pleased with himself. “What’s your second talking point?”
“Right.” Nick put on his most serious face. “So youdidkinda ditch me…”
Brady’s shoulders slumped. “Nick, I’msosorry—”
“And,” he said pointedly, “I’m gonna need you to make it up to me. And we need to talk abouthowyou’re gonna do it.”
Brady perked up. “What do I need to do?”
“We are going to have burgers and beer like we usually do. I am going to pretend to feel bad for you when the Penguins lose to the Ottawa Senators of all teams. And then, after we make out in the parking lot, you’re gonna take me to your place because youtotallyowe me make-up sex.”
Brady’s eyes went wide and then he laughed, a hearty full belly laugh that Nick adored. He leaned in and kissed Nick once chastely on the lips. “I think I can handle that,” he said, an echo of their first time together.
Nick had high hopes for their future.
“YES!” Brady shouted, eyes glued to the TV. He’d lifted up both of his hands and Nick’s, cheering at the Pens’ goal to make the game 7:3.
Well, Nick thought, too happy to see Brady happy to begrudge the Penguinsonegoal,at least he likes hockey.
Epilogue: December
Nick dodged the incoming check, biting back his fury that the other team was trying tocheck himin ano-contactleague. He could give them the finger later or say something snide in the handshake line, but he wasnotwasting his time on them now.
It took a moment to regain his balance, and it was his forward momentum that kept him within reach of the puck.
There was only one more defender to beat, which made that the easy part. He couldn’t count how many times he and Brady had worked on one-on-ones, and this guy didn’t hold a candle to how well Brady played, so it didn’t take much to deke around him. It was almost too easy, and it boosted Nick’s confidence enough that he decided to go backhand on the goalie instead of making a more conservative play.
It hit the back of the net, though, so maybe his instincts knew something he didn’t.
There was the usual uproar from the bench, and Nick slammed into the boards Ovechkin-style (a little disappointed he couldn’t rattle them as much as the Russian Machine did) and beckoned for his linemates.
Young Greg slammed into him first, whooping loudly and celebrating as if it were his own goal. Then came GG and Lexi, whose shouts were equally boisterous though directed more toward the goalie and other team than they were toward supporting Nick.
After the louder celebrations had ended, it was Brady’s turn. He skated up and wrapped Nick in a bear hug, shaking him and planting a kiss on his cheek. It’d been no small thing for Brady to start showing Nick affection in front of the team, but when it became apparent that the Jagr Bombs gave exactly zero shits about it, it’d become commonplace. “Fucking sick moves out there,” Brady praised. “That’s why I love you, scoring top shelf like it’s easy,” and with that, he pushed Nick away and skated to center ice for the next drop.
As if he hadn’t just admitted he loved Nickfor the first fucking time in their relationship.
It was a good thing he scored that goal, because Nick played like shit the rest of the game. He was always a half-second behind, his body and his brain not on the same page. He jumped too early on every faceoff, was too late on every pass, aimed high and wide of the net, and avoided Brady’s befuddled expression whenever they crossed paths.
