“Yeah, we’re doing well. And it’s been a good hobby while I’ve been here,” Ramsey agreed.
“Just a hobby?” Brody asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t want to become a hospitality mogul?”
Ramsey didn’t miss that Brody hadn’t asked if he could. Only if he wanted to be. “Not really.”I want to be a hockey player.
Brody smiled, just as the volume of the music in the stadium reached a fever pitch. “Hey, guess it’s time,” he said, gesturing towards the front of the suite. “You want any tips on how to be a WAG?”
“You’re not a WAG,” Ramsey protested. “You’re a medical student, about to graduate and head to your first residency.”
“Are yousureyou don’t want any tips?” Brody teased as they took their seats in the first row of the box.
“I’m sure the first rule is don’t mingle with and definitely don’t sit with WAGs from other teams,” Ramsey retorted.
“Yeah, you’d be a shitty WAG anyway.”
“Maybe I’ll make NatemyWAG,” Ramsey said. “Plenty of hockey left even if the Thunder make it deep into the playoffs.”
“You’re good, but not that good,” Brody said righteously.
“Hey, I know you’re used to having the best football-playing boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean it’salwaysgoing to be that way.”
Brody made a face. “You would make a competition.”
“At least they’re not ever on the field at the same time.”
“You figured that out?”
Ramsey elbowed Brody in the side. “Come on. I’ve never beenthatclueless.”
“Close, though,” Brody joked.
It was easy for Ramsey to spot Nate as the sea of white and blue trimmed jerseys swarmed onto the field to the top decibel range of AC/DC.
“Heisbig,” Brody said thoughtfully.
“I’m assuming you’re talking about Nate, and not your monster of a man.”
“He’s a gentle giant—except when I don’t want him to be,” Brody argued, going a little pink as he said it.
Ramsey decided there was no point in keeping the comment to himself any longer. “I miss when you were practically consigned to a nunnery.”
“No, you don’t,” Brody said, his grin and his blush both equally bright now.
“Actually, I do. Because I could give you shit before, and now I can’t.”
“Disappointing,” Brody said, not sounding disappointed at all.
“I hope that you told Dean to not like kill our quarterback or anything. We kind of like him, and I don’t want to see what happens if Wes has to actually put the clipboard down.”
“I did, but Dean just grinned at me. So maybe message not received? Besides, if Wes had to play, he’d be awesome,” Brody declared loyally. “Did you invite him tonight?”
Despite many reservations and an actualprosandconslist that Ramsey had written while he was in the office at Vault and then burnedadditionallyjust to be safe, yes, Ramsey had invited Wes to their get-together tonight.
It was only too bad that Mal and Elliott, playing with the Leafs now, were out of town. Otherwise, it would’ve been a real party.
As it was, now, it was going to be two couples and then Wes.
Because that wasn’t going to be a mess or anything.
