Page 30 of That Thing You Brew
His pocket vibrated, and I jumped. “Let me turn this off.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket to silence it. When he saw the screen, his eyes widened. “It’s Coach,” he said. I leaned over to look at the screen. Notification bubbles with familiar profile pictures began to pop up, coming in fast succession.
Congrats!
Norris trophy for sure!
Swanny! You did it!
I’m so proud of you.—Mom
I told you so, son. See you soon!
Opa would be so proud!
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Way to go, big bro!
Yeah, bruh!
And from Edyta, seven GIFs of different pro hockey mascots throwing confetti.
“You should answer that call,” I said, heart rate quickening in anticipation of what could only be good news. “And then read your messages.”
“We don’t mind, do we, Fyvie?” Brenna asked.
“Not a wee bit. Answer!”
Xavier swiped and lifted the phone to his ear. “Coach?”
The coach’s answer was muffled, but I could make out a few words.All-star. Seattle. February.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out his coach’s news. Shock froze Xavier’s face into the humblest expression I’d ever seen him wear. His eyebrows knit higher than ever. I wanted to jump into his arms and celebrate.
But I couldn’t. We weren’t in that kind of place. Not yet, anyway.
After the season. Be patient.
But … we were here to plan our wedding. Shouldn’t I be more … affectionate?
I had a few seconds to decide.
He ended the call and met my gaze. “I’m an all-star.”
I went for it. With a squeal proportionate to how big his achievement was, I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He tugged me onto his lap and leaned down, his face inches from mine. My heart pounded in anticipation.
My cheeks heated to boiling. Was our first real kiss going to be on Brenna’s sofa?
No!
Just as his lips were about to touch mine, I twisted away from him and slid off his lap.
I should have thought this through more.
I smiled sheepishly at the women on the other side of the table. “S-sorry?”
“No apology necessary,” Brenna insisted. “Let me get some champagne!”
“Thanks, but none for me,” Xavier said. “It’s a game night.”
Brenna shrugged. “You can take it with you for another time, then. So, I guess that weekend is out. February is busy for Valentine weddings, plus there’s the Biddingtons’ Sweethearts charity ball, and I have several birthday parties.” She scrolled through her tablet. “I can do any Tuesday or Wednesday in February if you don’t mind the barn’s interior in the middle of a setup. Or if you want to get married pre-Seattle and make a little honeymoon of it”—she waggled her eyebrows—“I can squeeze you in on January twenty-seventh.”
