Page 122 of Hockey Bois
suggestions?
we could grab a group if other people wanna explore downtown
Thank fuck that Brady was probably asleep and that Nick had to turn his phone off for the flight. The last thing he wanted was to obsess over his non-relationship with Brady. Instead, he could panic about the mountain of work that would pile up and set him behind for the rest of the month just so he could disappear for three days. Or just as likely, he could grow anxious about the upcoming games.
Or maybe, if he was lucky, he could read the book Max had gotten him for Christmas and not think about anything except gay medieval knights.
Brady would look pretty hot dressed as a knight.
Aaand he was back to square one.
Fuck his life, honestly.
*
“What is a milk bar, exactly?”
“I don’t know,” Brady admitted as he stared longingly toward the steps. They were on the first floor of a building that had a different restaurant on each level, including what was lauded as an award-winning milk bar one floor up. Brady had chosen the place based on review. “But after these noodles we should check it out.”
“Noodles and milk, yum. Definitely the light fare I want before an important game.”
“Doesn’t Ovechkin eat a whole meal of fettuccine alfredo before games? And you’re questioningmytaste?”
“Hey, I’ll have you know it’s chicken parmesan. But yes to Ovi and yes to me questioning your taste.”
Brady grumbled under his breath; they were saved by the server bringing water, menus, and a pleasant smile.
“So… no one else wanted to come out?” Nick asked after they’d ordered. It wasn’t that he was suspicious, it was more—okay, it was 100% because he was suspicious. Two people going out for lunch alone when their whole team was around screamed “date,” right? No, it didn’t, because they weren’t dating. They weren’t flirting (anymore), they weren’t sharing a room (this time), and they didnotdrunkenly fall asleep on a couch next to each other (what an embarrassing mistake).
None of those arguments were particularly convincing. They were dangerously close to dating for two people who would both agree they were actively trying tonotdate each other…
Brady shrugged. “Didn’t ask. Only saw Young Greg this morning when I checked on him after breakfast. Benns texted this morning, but he’s here with his family, so I didn’t think he’d be up for it. Didn’t see anybody else.”
…except Brady picked the placeandignored Nick’s suggestion they invite other people.
“Young Greg okay?” Nick asked.
“Overdid it with the beer last night, but he’s not hungover. Just not used to it.”
“He a chatty drunk? He seems like he’d be a chatty drunk.”
“True facts right there. He wouldn’t shut up about government conspiracies, particularly regarding the legal drinking age, smoking pot, and a long rant about the JFK assassination.”
“Fuck, that sounds hilarious. Wish I could hear that garbage, you should’ve live-tweeted it or had a video going or something becauseholy shit.”
Brady raised an eyebrow.
Right. Brady probably didn’t evenhaveTwitter.
The conversation fizzled out as they waited for their food. Nick tried to come up with a neutral, safe topic to bring up that in no way resembled,So what’s your room number at the hotel?orMaybe we should talk about that time we woke up together on my couch?
Brady salvaged the meal with an innocent, “Going to the Hockey Hall of Fame, underrated or overrated? Where’d we land on that?”
A soundless laugh escaped Nick. “I don’t know that the team decided—”
“Fuck the team; they’re a mess. They went to dinner at a friggin’ chain restaurant by the airport last night, for fuck’s sake. You and me, should we go?”
This was sounding more and more like a couple’s retreat that occasionally featured the Jagr Bombs and a hockey tournament. He’dreallylike that to be the case. “Underrated. The Cup—or I guessaCup—is there—and Ovechkin’s got a trophy on display that I wouldn’t mind seeing—”
