Page 29 of Hockey Bois
Gorgeous.
“Nah man, it’s awesome. Wait, there’s no Caps player on the back, is there?”
“No, it’s blank.”
“Then thanks.”
“No problem.”
They stood there, too close together in the too-small space. The tension in his gut ratcheted up a notch, and Nick wanted to explode or puke or do anything to relieve it before he did something stupid. He couldn’t turn away; he was trapped in Brady’s icy blue gaze and soft smile.
Luckily, Brady blinked first and turned away to check his phone. “We should head out, right? Drinks in thirty.”
“Yeah, let’s go. You sure that’s an acceptable alternative to…” Nick picked up the discarded Pens jersey to read the back. The number 68 almost made him laugh. “Jagr? For real?”
Brady’s cheeks flushed red as he snatched the jersey, then carefully folded it.
“He’s one of the all-time greatest,” he said defensively.
“Maybe in Pittsburgh, but not when he played for the Caps.”
“That’s some revisionist history there. He scored seventy-nine points with the Caps—”
“And how many with the Pens?”
“More, but how many of your boys are scoring you that many points?”
“Now?” Nick asked incredulously. “It’s a different era, as Jagr himself has said. The goalies are better. It takes a Kucherov or a McDavid to get in the hundreds—”
“I’m not hearing an answer to how many of your boys are getting you 70-plus.”
“Because it’s a loaded question that you’re trying to use to misrepresent the huge drop in production!”
Brady’s eyes flashed, unreadable but expressive, and then he took a step back. “Yinz Caps fans and your excuses. You got a place I can put this or…?” He held up the jersey.
“Did you justyinzin my house?” Nick dramatically gagged. “I mean, I haven’t cleaned out the fireplace for the winter, but trash is in the kitchen.”
“Har fucking har. I’ll put it back on if you want—”
“Ugh,fine. I’ll put it in my hockey bag and get it back to you next game.”
“Thank you,” Brady said smugly and handed it over. Nick held it by two fingers at arm’s length and hoped some sort of Pittsburgh-ness wouldn’t rub off on him.
*
On the Metro, Nick’s heart finally settled down. The cool air on the walk had cleared his head enough that he was back in control and wouldn’t make a damn fool of himself.
Well… he still might, but the odds were improving in his favor.
“So what came first, the Jagr fan or the Jagr Bombs?”
Brady snorted a laugh. “The Jagr Bombs. I was undecided about which division or team to join, so I looked over the list of teams. Saw the name and logo, fell in love, and told the commish I wouldn’t play for any other team.”
“Aww, and you and Jagr lived happily ever after,” Nick teased. “Did you really not know about the jersey thing?”
“This unwritten rule that restricts which jerseys you can wear to an NHL game?” Brady shrugged. “I did not, no.”
“How, though? I assume you’ve been to games before.”
