Page 62 of Hockey Bois
He delicately opened the pristine wrapping job. The basket was the least surprising part of what he found: inside were five neatly wrapped caramel apples.
“Caramel apples?” he asked in confusion. He never in a million years would have guessed this, and while the question was open to anyone who had any sort of explanation, it was directed toward Brady.
“Seasonal treat,” he said with a half shrug. “It’s festive.”
“You keepin’ that or stealing?” Gail prompted. She currently had the Cards Against Humanity game, which had already been stolen twice. The Caps sweater, the only other real contender for Nick’s interest, had already been stolen the maximum three times and would be going home with Lexi.
“I’ll keep it,” he said and made sure to make eye contact with Brady as he said so.
“Great! So that just leaves Mags! And perfect timing, there’s only a few minutes before the Winter Classic.”
The last gift was a small Lego hockey player and a Lego Zamboni, which Mags amicably passed to Guy as a gift for his five-year-old son and accepted the cookie cutters as a trade.
“That was fun!” Benns said with a wide smile. “Great choices, and I hope everyone ended up with something they’ll enjoy. I’ll go upstairs and get Molly and everyone else. We’ll watch the first period, then get some food during the intermission. Y’all can head into the fridge and grab yourselves a drink. I’ve got beer and soda.”
Everyone rushed to the other room where the fridge was, and slowly everyone’s plus ones filtered in from upstairs. While the team had bonded over gifts, the others had enjoyed a few rounds of cards. Nick did a quick headcount as he scanned the basement lounge. There were enough seats for the team, but with more people, it’d be a fight for every square inch of sitting space. He should hurry if he wanted a good spot.
Nick didn’t rush. No need, when who he wanted was already in the room.
He nudged Brady with his shoulder to get his attention, and he was greeted with a warm smile.
“Next year, we should just get gifts for each other, cut out the middleman,” Brady said.
Nick’s cheeks flushed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Uh huh,” Brady said with a smirk. “You just randomly got a Jagr bobblehead for a bunch of Caps fans? Bullshit. You know I’m the only one here who’d like it. You got me a gift.”
Nick didn’t bother to deny it. “You expected me to get the caramel?”
“No, I figured it’d be Guy or Benns who took it.”
“What’d you think I’d end up with?”
“I was kind of hoping you’d go for the beer and then share it with me.”
“So basically you were hoping to use me to get two gifts?”
“Hey, you owe me a beer, remember?” He paused, hesitating like he was unsure if he should keep going before he added, “You know, I, uh… I made the apples.”
“You made the apples?” Nick repeated, not sure what that even meant.
“Well, not the actual apples. But I made the caramel yesterday at my parent’s place, and I dipped the apples and yeah. I made them.”
Nick held up the basket of apples, looking at each of them in new appreciation. Homemade caramel apples, each individually wrapped and tied with a bow.
“Why the fuck do you have so many random talents?” he demanded. “That’s not fair.”
“You don’t even know if they taste good,” Brady said.
“And if they don’t, you’ll hear about it, but still. This is like… next level gift-giving, I swear. This is up there with the handknit sweater.”
Brady made a face. “Let’s not talk about the sweater.”
“You know, you’re lucky they’d already claimed it, or I would’ve come in and swiped it and worn it the rest of the day.”
“That sweater is a monstrosity, and I’m glad you didn’t get it because you’d wear it every fucking time we go to the bar.”
“So what you’re saying is I should find out who made it and get—”
