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“Good, good.”
Ashish gives me props as he passes on the way to the shower. “Happy you got your head out of your ass, Stiles.”
“Same, man. Same.”
Roman slaps me on the back. “Good work finding your balls, Tristan.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a dig,” I reply as I pull my pads on.
“A bit of both,” Hollis says with a smirk. “But we’ll all appreciate having your head back in the game now that you’re no longer wallowing in a pit of self-loathing and despair.”
Turns out he’s on to something there. Getting Bea back and finally coming clean about my feelings is a weight lifted, and I play better than I have since I stupidly broke it off with her. Practice is smooth, my mind is clear, and even though I didn’t get a whole hell of a lot of sleep last night, I’m still on my game.
I pick Bea up from work and we head to Ajax so we can watch my brother’s hockey game together. It’s a stupidly long drive in Toronto rush-hour traffic, but I don’t want to miss it. This is the team they’ve had the most trouble with this season, and I want to be there to support him.
“Your dad will be at the game?” Bea asks.
“Yeah, he goes to pretty much all of Brody’s games.”
She squeezes my hand. “I love that you show up for Brody, too.”
“I try to as often as I can since my mom can’t be bothered with any of us. I want him to know he’s supported.”
“I think you do a good job of that as his brother,” she says.
“I know I don’t do the feelings stuff well, but I try to be as present as I can with my schedule.” Although I’ve been pretty caught up in my own shit recently. “I checked in with Nate today. He seems better than he was last week.” Between rounds of I’m-sorry-for-being-an-emotionally-repressed-idiot-thanks-for-taking-me-back-and-I-love-the-fuck-out-of-you sex, I told Bea about what happened with Nate and his long-term girlfriend and how it seemed to be the thing that pushed me over the I-can’t-deal-with-my-feelings-so-I’ll-just-implode-my-relationship ledge.
Bea nods. “That’s good. I imagine it’ll take a while for him to get over it. They were together a long time,” she says softly.
“Yeah, he didn’t expect it, so he’s pretty crushed. But right now he’s focused on exams and putting all his energy into that. When he’s finished, he’ll probably visit for a couple of days.”
“That’ll be good. Just be careful with Flip around. He’s not the best influence,” Bea warns.
“Yeah. I know. But Nate is different from me. He’s never really been the kind of guy to engage in meaningless hookups, and he doesn’t try to fit other people’s expectations of him. I did that a lot.” It’s not Flip’s fault that I didn’t say no to the endless women he brought home. I always had a choice. I just never exercised my options the way I should have.
Bea adjusts her position, so she’s facing me. “We all do things to make other people happy, even if they don’t make us happy.”
“Yeah. I did that a lot. I wasn’t the best role model for Brody.”
“In one area of your life, for like what? A year? Don’t beat yourself up about being a hot, famous hockey player everyone wanted a piece of.”
I pull into the arena lot and find a parking spot. “You’re a kickass girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Bea gives me a small, hopeful smile.
I hit the release on my seat belt and do the same with hers. “Is that okay? Maybe you don’t want to put a label on it.”
“Do you want to put a label on it?” she asks, putting the ball back in my court.
I’ve purposefully avoided labels for a long-ass time. In part because they scare the shit out of me. But it doesn’t matter if I call her my girlfriend or not; I’m still hopelessly in love with her. Not giving it a title doesn’t make those feelings any less present or real. “Yeah. I do, but it’s okay if you’re not ready for that.”
“I’m ready for that,” she whispers.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
I drag my fingertips along the edge of her jaw, and she pushes her hair over her shoulders, exposing her throat for me. I take the not-so-subtle hint and circle her throat. “You want to be my girlfriend?”
“I want to be your girlfriend,” she replies.
“I’m your boyfriend?” I ask, leaning in close.
“You’re my boyfriend,” she agrees.
I rub my nose against hers, and she whimpers.
“You better make up for keeping me hanging like this for hours by fucking the living hell out of me tonight.”
“Consider it extended foreplay.” I tip my head and claim her lips.
When her hands start to wander, I end the kiss and promise I’ll take good care of her later.
We join my dad in the arena and watch Brody play his ass off. And afterward, when we’re waiting for Brody in the arena restaurant, a few of the girls who watched his game come over and ask for autographs, and a couple of his teammates stop to say hi. I’ve just finished introducing Bea when Brody appears. Bea excuses herself to the bathroom, and as soon as she’s out of earshot, both my dad and Brody give me knowing looks.
