Page 74 of Hockey Bois
He waited a careful thirty seconds, each one measured by his unsteady heartbeat, then snuck a look.
They weren’t looking his way anymore, but Nick still tried to be discreet as he watched.
Amelia “Aimes” Landry looked calm, relaxed, though maybe a little serious. Brady looked… well, it wasn’t like he was frowning or anything, but Nick recognized something in his body language. He couldn’t find the right word for it, couldn’t pin down the emotion as anything more than vaguely not good. All day, Brady had been a shining beacon. Occasionally the light dimmed, wavered in its intensity, but Nick hadn’t imagined it.Everyoneon the team was excited about the tournament, and still they’d noticed Brady had stood out among them. This was his element. This was his childhood life intersecting with his present in a fun, unexpected way.
Now he looked faintly sick.
It only fostered a growing selfish and admittedly childish jealousy toward Miss Amelia Aimes.
She’d known Brady when he was younger.
She’d taken Brady away now.
She’d made Bradyupset.
Nick quieted his nauseous stomach by counting from one to ninety-nine and forcing himself to come up with a player who’d worn each number. It was a game he’d play with his dad sometimes, and it was a great way to occupy his mind since he was self-aware enough to know he’d be a surly ass if he opened his mouth.
He’d gotten to 52, Mike Green, when Brady reappeared with his friend at his side.
“Jagr Bombs, this is Aimes. I’ve known her since we were… twelve?” He didn’t wait for a confirmation. “Aimes, these are the Jagr Bombs. They’re my team in DC.”
“They totally recruited you with that name alone, didn’t they?”
“It was the deciding factor, yes,” he said solemnly.
Brady had regained some of his color and was back to at least his usual self, though not his earlier warmth. He reclaimed his seat next to Nick, though Nick couldn’t help but notice that he wiggled the chair a few inches away and gave him a constipated smile as he sat down.
Uh oh.
“What was Jens like as a kid?” GG asked. “Seems like the type who was old even as a kid. Born fifty, y’know?”
Aimes didn’t sit down. She stood there, hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. They had pushed together four high-top tables to accommodate the team, and Nick felt that was the only thing keeping her from towering over them.
“Can confirm,” she said. “He was the only one I ever saw doing homework on the travel bus. Or ever. Probably why he got a fancy job in Washington and isn’t stuck here in Pittsburgh with the rest of us.”
“So you played together?” Nick found himself drawn into the conversation against his will. He didn’t like the effect she was having on the evening, but he craved insight into Brady.
Aimes gaze pierced through him. “Sort of. We played for the same program, so we’d be in the same practices but might play on different teams. Like if there was an age restriction on a tournament, or a gender one, we might play together, but we might not. We’d travel together a lot, though.”
“We went to different schools,” Brady mumbled. “Only saw each other for hockey.”
“Was Jensie always a beast?” Young Greg asked.
She raised an eyebrow, and Nick could almost see her mental checklist of names for Brady. Was her “Beej” the same as this “Jensie”?
“Coach wanted him to play wing because he’s fast, or used to be, anyway. Even tempted him with that Jagr carrot. ‘You like sixty-eight but want to play D!? Come on!’”
The impression earned a snort from Brady.
“He’s stubborn though,” Aimes said with a shrug. “Likes defense too much.”
“Uh huh,” Lexi said and poured her a beer from their last surviving pitcher. “Jensie’s awesome or whatever. Tell us aboutyou.”
“Yeah.” Donno slid his plate of fries across the table, right through a ketchup stain. “WhoisAimes?”
Her poker face was admirable. “Beej?”
“They’re harmless,” Brady said. “Both on and off the ice.”
