Nick isn’t sure he could be quite so happy-go-lucky about an injury like that, but if it doesn’t bother Matt, he isn’t going to argue.
“I was kinda wondering how you had the time to write a whole album while playing college hockey and, like, graduating.”
A short laugh bursts out of Matt, and he pushes his hair back off his forehead. “Yeah, we had a lot on our plates.” Suddenly he looks shy, his boot-clad toes nudging up against Nick’s sneaker. “If you wanna go for a walk or whatever, I could tell you about it? If you don’t have to be anywhere.”
When Nick checks his phone, he’s amazed to see they’ve already been sitting for over an hour. Their plates are long cleared, and every time Cindy’s walked past she’s glanced at him but hasn’t approached.
“Oh, no, I’m good for another hour or so.” It might cut into his prep time, but whatever—he can do his hair and put a tux on in his sleep at this point.
“Perfect.” Matt’s teeth flash when he smiles, and then he’s raising a hand to get Cindy’s attention, trying to fish his wallet out of his pocket as if Nick has any intention of letting him pay.It’s a battle of elbows to reach for the check, which Matt wins only by the grace of Nick rescuing their mugs before they can go flying off the table.
“Have a good rest of your day, boys,” Cindy says, smiling at their antics. “Nick, honey, you bring this one back sometime, hmm? I like him.”
Color rises on Nick’s cheeks—he knows she doesn’t mean it like it sounds, but it makes his chest squeeze with something that’s not quite anxiety. “Only if you promise not to give away the rest of my secrets.” He dips down, kissing her cheek and tucking a twenty into her palm, pulling away with his best roguish grin. “Until next time.”
As the pair step out onto the street, walking shoulder to shoulder, Nick has to shove his hands into his pockets to once again resist the urge to hold Matt’s hand. It’s starting to become a real problem. It’s not like he’s ever evendone thatbefore.
Maybe that’s why he wants to. Just to know what it’s like.
They walk with no real destination, and Nick learns about Matt’s time at UMich, about meeting his bandmates and feeling music reallyclickfor the first time, then getting his wrist broken and throwing himself into songwriting to compensate. In return, he tells Matt about when he knew he had a chance at making it big in hockey, and a little about his first couple of seasons at Nevada—the parts that he can talk about, anyway. There’s a lot of lonely nights he doesn’t want to reminisce on.
Matt seems to understand that Juniors isn’t something Nick wants to talk about, either, and he doesn’t push. Short of a few anecdotes about struggling to learn French at the age of fifteen, Nick glosses over the whole experience.
His Vegas stories are much more fun anyway.
By the time the alarm goes off on Nick’s phone, telling him hereallyneeds to get home and get ready or Kat’s going to get madat him, they’ve been outside long enough for Nick to wish he’d brought a coat, yet he’d quite happily keep going for hours more.
They say goodbye on a street corner with a hug that lingers, and a sly grin from Matt that promises everything else when they see each other on Halloween. It’s frustrating that there’s nowhere private, nowhere secluded to drag him into and kiss those teasing lips, but Nick knows better than to risk it. There’s no such thing as true privacy in this town.
Later, when he’s got his hair locked into place and his second-nicest tuxedo on, he’s supposed to be thinking about charming rich socialites into donating money to youth hockey charities, but mostly he’s thinking about Matt. Remembering the light in his eyes, the warmth of his shoulder against his, the playful lilt to his tone when he teased Nick.
He blames the fizz in his stomach on the champagne, and the spring in his step on his success rate with the donors. But at every turn, Marco is wiggling his eyebrows salaciously, and Nick knows he has no excuse for the smile on his face.
Chapter Ten
[Video description: The four members of Sticks+Stones sit on a long couch opposite a woman with bubblegum-pink hair, her arms and legs covered in tattoos.]
“… So you guys have been making yourselves at home in Vegas pretty well. Most notably, becoming a regular presence among the Nevada Dragons—both at games, and spending time socially with some of the players.” She looks more at Matt than any other member of the band, and he grins.
“We’re really stoked to be able to go to games again—where we were living before it wasn’t really feasible for us, travel-wise. And we were touring constantly. But it’s a great vibe at the Lair, and they’re having a solid season, so it’s super fun to be there.”
The interviewer purses her lips above her microphone. “It’s an unusual crossover, a band like yours and a bunch of top-tier athletes from a sport that’s known to bepretty… traditional, to say the least.” She laughs lightly. “Could this signal a change in direction for your music, to try and reach a new audience?”
At this, the band all exchanges glances.
“If you’d like to have a conversation about the way the league’s administration is stagnating so badly it’s affecting the players and the audience, then we’re here for that,” Matt says, voice even and smile sharp.
“It’s one of our favorite conversation topics,” Casey chimes in beside him. Matt nods.
“But if you want us to address the rumors that we’re befriending hockey players for clout to try and go mainstream, I will point out that all four of us were hockey players before we were ever a band. It’s not that deep, guys.”
“We’re not selling out,” Spencer adds jokingly. Matt grins once more.
“Far from it—if anything, we’re turning hockey audiences over to a whole new mindset.” He glances to the camera and winks. “No one says jocks can’t be fans of our music. Broaden your horizons, folks.”
—AltSound, November 3rd, 2022
The closer it gets to the Halloween show, the more intense the flirting in the texts between Nick and Matt grows. It’sgotten to the point where Nick doesn’t dare check thosemessages unless he’s alone because of the blush they bring to his face.
