Page 16 of That Thing You Brew
“We’re home for the next week or so, then we have a road trip to the east coast.” He sipped his drink, eyes cast down.
“Fu-funeral?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I want to be there, but Opa made it clear I shouldn’t come back if it affects the team. I told him to hang on until the All-Star Break, but he said I’d be playing in it. Ha.”
I smiled. “You w-will.”
He shook his head. “It’s not likely. There are much bigger stars on our team that have been around a lot longer than me.”
It was my turn to shake my head. Vigorously.
He laughed. “Thanks.” His cheeks pinked.
Xavier was blushing. He couldn’t have been more endearing if he tried.
“T-tell me … about h-him.” I wanted to hear about the man whose loss had put a big hole in Xavier’s heart.
He took a long sip of his matcha and smiled. “He was my best friend.” Crossing his arms, he leaned casually on the tabletop.
I mirrored his position and waited.
“My Opa was the most generous, amazing guy I’ve ever known. He was equal parts stubborn and giving. Kind but firm. We spent every Christmas at his chateau. He visited us more than we visited him. Dad played in the league up until a few years ago, and we spent the summers with Mom’s family on the Reservation in Calgary. I played a lot of roller hockey there as a kid. I loved it. But my parents—mostly my dad—didn’t want me to play ice hockey. I was a figure skater for twelve years, but I hit a growth spurt in eighth grade and couldn’t do the jumps like I used to.”
I grinned widely. I knew this, of course, but to hear him say it was adorable. “T-too t-all?”
“Yeah. I was six feet at that point. Still, Dad resisted when I asked to play hockey. He said it wasn’t a good job to have if you wanted to be a family man. When I turned fourteen, my grandparents were in town for the annual Dads’ trip. When Dad and Opa returned, my grandparents decided to stay longer to watch us kids so Mom could attend some of the home games by herself and meet Dad at his next away game. Opa and Oma bought me hockey skates and equipment and paid for spring break camp while my parents were gone. I loved it. And by the time Mom and Dad returned, I was on a team. Opa picked my parents up at the airport and brought them to the rink to see me play. I never had to wear tight sequined pants again.” He sighed dramatically, as if he missed his old costumes.
I giggled. “B-bet you w-were cute.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “All the grandmas thought so.”
I burst out laughing, picturing his Oma and her friends reaching up to pinch his cheeks and fawn over him.
The low buzz of a phone in vibration mode cut through my thoughts. I reached into my tote to check mine.
“It’s me,” he said. “It’s been going off since 2 a.m.”
I nodded. “No s-sleep?”
“Very little.”
“Re-re-schedule?”
“What? No.” He leaned closer. “I’ll go crazy if I’m by myself. Please. Come over?”
“O-kay.” I pointed to the clock on the wall. He needed to leave soon if he was going to make it to Denver on time for his morning practice. How did the last hour pass so quickly?
He turned his head to follow my finger. “Right. Thanks for breakfast and the hug.” He pulled out his phone. “What’s your number? I’ll text you my address.”
I held out my hand for his phone. He handed it to me, and I dialed my number. My phone rang in my pocket. I saved my number to his contacts and handed the phone back to him. “Th-there. Now I’ve g-got your number and you’ve g-got m-mine.”
He grinned and pulled me in for another long hug-to-remember. “Did you really order a year’s worth of coffee for me?”
I stepped out of his embrace and nodded, hanging my head and hoping he wouldn’t see me blush. “T-two seasons’ w-worth.” Cautiously, I raised my eyelids to peek at his expression.
It was everything I’d hoped for. His full smile beamed down upon me.
“You’re a dream, Penny. I’ll see you again soon.”
