“Jesus, at leasttryand be cool, man,” Nick mutters under his breath, earning an elbow to the ribs.
Kat knocks, and after a beat a voice calls them in. Nick magnanimously lets Marco go first—it’s got absolutely nothing to do with the way he’s trying to hide his phone by his hip, camera aimed at his best friend. Lindsay will bake him cookies for this video.
He needn’t try so hard; Marco completely forgets about Nick’s existence the second they step into the box and stares at the four people waiting for them.
Nick’s first thought is that theylooklike rockstars. Even decked out in Dragons gear, they just have that quality about them. One of the guys has his home jersey on, and he’s got the build to suit it—huge arms and broad shoulders and at least four inches of height on Nick. His hair is jet black and falls across his forehead in that artfully mussed way all emo boys in 2009 did their hair. Nick hates that it kind of works for him, actually.
Beside him is a shorter guy with long blond hair and a lip ring, wearing a blood-red leather jacket over a distressed Dragons T-shirt and black jeans. He has his elbow on the shoulder of the third guy, and as Nick gets a good look at this one, his mouth goes dry.
The first thing he notices is his eyes, which are deep brown, almost mahogany in the stadium lighting—especially with the bright red streaks dyed into his brown hair. There’s a silver bar through his right eyebrow, and a sword dangling from his left ear while chains wind up the shell of his right. He’s tall—taller than both Nick and Marco—and turned to the side just enough that Nick can see the quite franklyspectacularass filling out a pair ofdistressed gray skinny jeans. Seriously, he spends his time with hockey players; he’s seen alotof great asses and this guy’s is definitely up there.
But of course, Marco isn’t looking at any of the offensively beautiful men standing in front of them. He’s looking up at the one female member of the band, jaw dropped just a little.Up, because she’s taller than him, wearing big, chunky platform boots that make her at least six foot six, and that is a power move that Nick can absolutely get behind. In Marco’s defense, she’s also a total smokeshow. She’s wearing one of those cute dragon-scale sequin jackets that a bunch of their female fans wear, with a tight black tank-top and a silver mini-skirt that shows off mile-long legs.
She looks like she could knock Marco out with a single blow, honestly. And the longer he stares at her, the more it looks like she might actually do that.
Her bandmates are starting to frown, the pretty one’s jaw tightening as he shifts closer to her, and Marco immediately goes wide-eyed and takes a half-step back.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts at her. “It’s just… my sister has thebiggestcrush on you.”
There’s a beat, and then the woman laughs loudly, her green eyes filling with delight. Behind his best friend, Nick snickers.
“I’m sure she’s the only one,” he teases. As Marco whips around indignantly, Nick puts his phone behind his back. Lindsay’s going tolovethat whole exchange. Nick might just send it to the whole team.
“Is your sister here tonight?” the blond guy asks, the tension dissipating from the room. Although Marco is still staring at them like he’s seeing Santa Claus in real life, it’s no longer creepily directed at just one person.
“No, she’s in college in California. She’s going to kill me for this.” The band members laugh like Marco’s joking, but Nick knows better. Sofia is going toriot.
“Well, thanks for coming up to meet us, especially after the ice time you both put in tonight,” Pretty Boy with the red streaks in his hair says with the kind of smile that belongs on the cover of magazines. “Your goal in the first was sick.”
That’s directed at Nick, who startles slightly, forced to stop admiring the man’s biceps. “Oh, y’know…” he deflects with a drawl he’s been told is charming. “Had to do something to start the season off with a bang.” He’s damn proud of it, honestly; the first goal on home ice this season, and it was an absolute beauty. “Thanks for coming out to support. You guys been fans long?”
That’s the thing about playing on an expansion team—nobody has been a diehard Dragons fan since childhood. They either draw in new hockey fans, or they lure them away from other teams, and in Nick’s experience that’s a hard-won battle.
“We moved to Vegas over the summer,” Pretty Boy replies. “Figured we may as well support our new local team.”
“What he’s not telling you is he’s really a Vancouver fan,” the muscular guy in the jersey says.
“I can like more than one team!” Seriously, Nick is going to need Marco to step in and pick up the conversation here soon, because if this guy keeps looking at him with those eyes and that face he is going to say something stupid. “I’m Matt. It’s nice to meet you.” He holds out a hand, and Nick notices he’s got shimmery scarlet nail polish on his fingers. Cute.
“Nick,” he replies, impressed at how casual he makes it sound. Matt’s grip is just the right side of strong, and far too brief for Nick’s liking. “And this is Marco. He’s a huge fan of your band.”
Marco glares daggers at Nick for a split second while the band aren’t looking, then steps in to offer his own handshake. He’sblushing. God, it’s adorable.
“Man, that’s still kinda wild to hear,” Matt says with a small, incredulous shake of his head. “You guys are, like, legit famous hockey stars and you know about our band.”
“I mean, arguably we are also, like, legit famous,” the blond guy retorts. “But I get what you mean. Fucking ridiculous, bro. I’m Spencer.”
The last two introduce themselves as Joel and Casey, and also as secretly a Pittsburgh fan and a Minnesota fan respectively. Nick can’t begrudge them that, he supposes.
Throughout the introductions, Kat and some skinny dude who probably works with the band are taking photos from the back corner. Nick nudges Marco, holding up his phone invitingly. “Dude, you wanna get pictures? Make Sofia jealous?”
“I—If that’s cool with you guys?”
Casey’s the one who nods enthusiastically, adjusting her hair over her shoulder. Nick sees a flash of hot pink, and realizes the underside is dyed. “Absolutely!” she exclaims, stepping up beside him. “We can get in real close if you want to make her extra mad.” She gives a flirtatious wink that has Marco turning bright red—Nick snaps a quick picture, trying not to cackle with glee. His linemate isnevergoing to live this down.
Nick might be enjoying laughing at Marco for this, but he’s still a good friend, so he makes sure to take several pictures, stepping back to get the full splendor of Casey’s outfit in the shot. She surprises them both by ducking down to press her lips to Marco’s cheek just long enough for Nick to snap a picture, and it’s immediately his favorite. “Oh, there’s the ’Gram shot for sure.”
“I know the rest of us aren’t quite as lovely as Case?—”
