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Caleb scowls at the reminder.
“Only managed to score a few.” Bellamy grimaces. “He didn’t make things easy for me. Next time, I’ll be ready for him.”
“Make sure that you are. Donovans don’t sleep on the job,” Jack deadpans in warning.
“I’ll be sure to remember that.” Bellamy winks, then turns his sights on me. “You played a great game, Wilder. I’m sure I have a few bruises to prove it.”
“He’ll live,” Caleb groans, pulling his brother away from his nemesis.
I offer Bellamy a respectful nod and follow my teammates off the ice.
As we walk into the tunnel, Caleb is back to his usual playful mood, talking a mile a minute about this party we’re about to attend at the Hilton.
“Pass.” Jack laughs. “But take Nate with you. He deserves a bit of fun tonight.”
I’m two seconds away from saying that a party is the last thing I want to do tonight when Caleb flashes his sly smile, putting his arm around my shoulder, ready to guilt-trip me into saying yes.
“Dude, when was the last time the two of us painted the town red? Come on, it will be fun.”
“We have an early flight in the morning,” I reply, knowing it’s a flimsy excuse.
“We just won against the champs of last year’s Eastern Conference in their own house! We gotta celebrate that shit, Nate. Life is too damn short not to celebrate every win.”
He’s right—this is a big win.
But I don’t want to go to a party if it means missing Lottie’s goodnight phone call.
“How long do you plan to stay out?” I ask him.
“Four o’clock, tops,” he says.
“Ten,” I counter with a scowl.
“Two then.”
“Ten,” I repeat.
He rolls his eyes before relenting, “How about midnight, Cinderella? Will midnight be good enough for you?”
With Lottie still back in Cape Cod with her family, she’ll probably be awake at that hour, so I nod.
“Fine. Midnight. Just have to do something first. I’ll meet up with you after,” I tell him.
“What could you possibly have to do that’s more important than coming with me to a party?” Caleb asks, intrigued, only to receive an elbow to his gut from his brother.
“The fuck you do that for?” Caleb moans out.
“For being a nosey dipshit, that’s why. Leave Nate alone. He probably has family stuff to do, moron,” Jack explains.
“Oh, shit. My bad. I forgot you’re from around here. I look at you, and all I see is Boston green, not this white and blue trash.”
“Still pissed that Bellamy got pucks by you, huh?” I ask, trying to move the conversation away from the minefield it was heading toward.
“That motherfucker is too damn fast for his own good,” Caleb grumbles. “Fuck him for being nice and fuck you for reminding me.”
Caleb flips me off and darts off to the locker room ahead of us, fuming.
“If you did that only to piss him off just to avoid going to a party with him tonight, you really don’t know my brother.” Jack chuckles beside me.
