Page 38 of Hockey Bois
“I’m gonna send out videos of the best hockey fights so we can work on getting some Gordie Howe hat tricks,” added Nick.
“On second thought,” Benns said with as much authority as he could muster, “let’s just have captains and alternate captains sending out videos.”
“Cool,” Brady said. “I’ll send out some info on the neutral-zone trap—”
Loud boos cut him off.
“It works!” he protested. “That strategy wins games!”
“It’s boring, bro,” Young Greg said with an air of disapproval.
“I look forward to your analysis,” Benns said before Young Greg could continue. “Now Jagr Bombs, let’s get out there and play a solid game. Lots of scoring, a defensive second, and then we finish strong in the third.”
They clapped and cheered, Gail whistling loudly and Young Greg pounding on his helmet like a drum.
During the ruckus, Nick slid down the bench to Brady. He leaned in close and waited for Brady to do the same. “Have you really always had that patch?” He tapped the “A” with his glove (the only safe way to touch Brady was after several beers each or through layers of hockey gear) for emphasis. He hadn’t mentioned it during the team meeting, but he’d never noticed it before, either.
Though admittedly, he’d never been particularly interested in Brady’sshoulders.
Brady side-eyed the room before he whispered, “Guy and I just got them this season. I only sewed mine on this week.”
Nick’s head swam as he imagined Brady bent over his jersey, carefully sewing on the patch. It wasn’t crooked or anything; it was perfectly positioned and neatly stitched like it’d come with the jersey.
He swallowed and asked, “You sew?”
Brady shrugged. “I took home ec in middle school, same as everyone.”
Nick accepted this answer and definitely did not imagine the little version of Brady from his profile picture learning to sew. He also ignored the questions this information naturally brought up:What did he sew in home ec? Did he sew often? Did this mean he had a little sewing kit at home or did he have to buy one for the patch?
“So,” he said instead, “this is like… your first time ever wearing it.”
“Yep.”
“And you’re not going to tell them that, are you?”
“Nope.”
“You’re awful, and I completely approve.”
“I try.” Brady slipped on his own gloves. “Stick-and-puck this weekend?”
They’d managed to go pretty consistently, almost always to that same Saturday morning one where they’d first run into each other by accident. They might add in a few extra sessions here and there, but Saturday was a guarantee 99% of the time.
Except…
“Uh, I can’t this weekend.”
Brady was halfway up from the bench and fell back down. “What?” He looked adorably befuddled. Betrayed, even.
“Busy on Saturday. I’m doing a 10k. It’s kind of a Turkey Trot even though it’s a bit early in the season for that but whatever. It’s up in Frederick so between the drive, the run, and the obligatory brewery stop, no way I’m back before evening.”
There was a pause as Brady took in this information.
“You run?”
Nick snorted. “Yeah. I actually do two miles before I meet you at the rink on the weekend. Sometimes five if I get up early enough.”
He was allowed to brag, right?
