Page 81 of Hockey Bois
Still nothing.
Frustrated more than anything else, he stomped over into his line of sight and waved both hands. “Hey, Earth to Brady, you with us?”
Brady visibly startled and dropped the roll of tape, still connected to his stick. It spun around, sticking to itself and ruining the rest of the tape job.
“Nicki,” he squeaked. “Sorry, didn’t know you were, uh…” He paused awkwardly. “Didn’t know you were talking to me.”
Nick made a show of looking around the nearly empty locker room.
Brady laughed soundlessly, more a puff of air than anything else. “Yeah, should’ve figured that out.” He frowned. “Did you… did you just call me Brady?”
“You do realize that’s your name, right?” he teased. Was it wrong he felt a bit smug, getting a reaction out of Brady? There was something satisfying about it after weeks of purposefully ignoring each other.
“I’m aware, but…”
I’ve never called you that before. Yes, I know. Glad you know, too.
“No one on the team calls me that,” Brady said, taking the easy way out by not focusing on Nick specifically.
Nick bit back the wordcowardand settled on rolling his eyes.
“You got a problem with it?”
Brady shook his head.
“Good,” Nick said.
“Good,” Brady agreed, though he looked far from happy.
They stood there in painful, awkward silence. Jenna had suggested they act like adults about this, and here they were, acting like middle schoolers.
He took advantage of the lull in their conversation to take in Brady’s appearance. He looked good, if only because healwayslooked good, but there was something…off. There was something about his body language that screamedtired. His eyes were dull, like he wasn’t quite present, and there was a paleness to him that made him almost fragile. Seeing him like this was so strange. Nick could imagine himself asking what was wrong, already forming an invitation for beers if Brady wanted to talk or vent about work like Nick sometimes—
And then, because Nick didn’t want any misplaced protective instincts getting in the way of his plans, he shook his head and looked away.
“Well,” Nick said, voice a little too thick, “good luck tonight.”
“Yeah, you too,” Brady hastily replied. It looked like he had more to say, but Nick turned to find himself a spot well away from both him and Guy. He’d done his small part to move things in the right direction, and he wasn’t up to doing more yet.
People slowly filed in, and the tension leaked out of the room with each new presence. It was easier to ignore Brady when there were others vying for his attention.
Once they were on the ice, though? Different story.
They played different positions and were never on the same line, not in any meaningful way, but Brady and Nick had always clicked on the ice. It was their similar styles combined with their practice between games. It wasn’t uncommon for them to be on the ice together, and that usually meant points on the board and shutting down the other team.
Lately? Not so much.
They were out of sync, a step out of time with each other. Nick normally kept an eye out for Brady on the ice. He was an easy pass and an incredibly reliable player… except now, his presence didn’t seem to fully register. He’d be open, and Nick would legitimately not see him. Or they’d end up covering the same person because Nick wouldn’t notice him, meaning they were always leaving someone open.
Not today, Nick promised himself. Today he was fixing things. He was making a conscious effort to pay attention to Brady, to keep him involved in the play, and to make smart decisions that would help the team.
So at the end of the first period when he saw Brady wide open, Nick seized the opportunity.
“Brady, heads up!”
He’d meant to send the pass right up to Brady for the point shot. And he did send the pass pretty well… except that as soon as he called out, Brady mis-stepped and tripped over his own feet. The puck sailed past him out of the zone, leaving Gail to sprint after it and stop any breakaway attempts by the other team.
One incident wasn’t terrible, especially one that didn’t actually hurt the team.
