Nick waits until they’re well out of earshot to turn on his friend with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck, man?” he hisses. “You couldn’t have said it was a private thing?”
“Yeah, becausethat’snot suspicious,” Marco retorts, rolling his eyes. “It’s gonna be fine,” he promises. “It’ll be cool for the guys to get to know everybody. Meet the guy you’re dating, even if they don’t know it.”
“We’re not dating!” Nick insists, only getting a dismissive hand-wave.
“The guy you’re banging and pining over, whatever.”
Nick lets out a growl of discontent but otherwise doesn’t say anything. It’s too late now.
He pulls out his phone, opening his text thread with Matt.
Nick
Heads up, we’re bringing teammates. Not sure how many.
Matt
We’ll be on our best behavior ;)
His response makes Nick flush, even as anticipation bubbles in his stomach.
He couldn’t go with Matt to the music industry party, but he can do this. It’s just the team. It’s not weird for them to hang out. He doesn’t have to tell them anything.
He can totally do this.
They get to the bar at the same time as a group of their teammates—Hugsy, Moose, Duke and Picard file in beside them as they head for the doors. “Sunny and Mars are on their way over with Beau,” Picard tells them, a faint red line still imprinted on his forehead from his goalie mask.
“Splits and Motor not coming?” Marco asks, brows raised. The four rookies usually travel as a pack, Sunny following like a harassed older brother. Picard shakes his head.
“Nah, they’ve got dates lined up.”
“Damn, really?” Nick hums. “I didn’t know they had girlfriends.”
For some reason, that makes Sunny blush and he ducks his head. “Oh, they don’t, really. It’s… first dates. Don’t worry about it.”
Nick frowns, unable to question his teammate further as a waitress arrives to show them up to their private room. He has vague memories of a couple of the guys teasing the rookies about first dates weeks ago—what has he missed there? A pang shoots through his chest; he should know more about what his kids are up to off the ice. Having so many of them isn’t an excuse to be a shitty captain about it.
Maybe he can talk to them next time Matt is at band practice; they’ve been spending so many evenings together lately, it’s hard to get time with his team outside of the rink.
Snapping him out of his thoughts, the waitress nudges the door open with a smile, resting a hand on Nick’s forearm. “I’ll be through to take your drink orders in just a second,” she says, meeting his gaze intently. “If you needanything, sir, just let me know. Ask for Jessie.” She giggles as she says this, pointing to her nametag—positioned strategically next to the impressive cleavage showing above the low-cut front of her uniform.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Nick replies, winking at her, because that’s what’s expected of him.
That’s another reason he doesn’t go out much these days. Playing straight is exhausting in a way it never used to be.
Inside the room is a large U-shaped booth of black leather seating with several small tables placed at intervals, a TV set to ESPN and an upbeat song playing that Nick recognizes from Matt’s current favorites playlist. The band is all there, squeezed in together to look at a phone. It’s Lindsay’s phone, he realizes, and the woman herself is grinning from the other side of the booth. They all look up at the new arrivals.
“Marco, your new puppy is the cutest fucking thing in the entire world, and I can’t believe you haven’t invited me over to play with her,” Joel says by way of greeting as he points accusingly at Marco, who laughs.
“Dude, come over whenever. I could do with a break from playing fetch for three hours straight every night.”
The puppy is a new addition to the Perez household, rescued from a shelter to surprise Lindsay for her birthday. Her name is Marshmallow, and she’s a five-month-old fluffball of a puppy that’s going to be absolutely enormous when grown, pure white with three little golden-brown paws and utterly adorable.
Determined to play it cool in front of his teammates, Nick slides into the seat beside Matt, peering over his shoulder. “She’s a cutie,” he agrees. “Hey, bro.” Blocked from sight by his ownbody, he sets a hand on Matt’s thigh, squeezing briefly. Matt grins at him.
“What’s up, man. Solid game tonight. Congrats.” He looks past Nick to his teammates, raising a hand in greeting. “Hey, guys, nice to meet you. I’m Matt.”
There’s a chaotic five minutes where introductions are exchanged and large bodies are arranged in the booth seats. “Oh, hey, news for you guys,” Matt adds, looking towards Nick and Marco. “So y’know Zane was trying to get us a really sweet interview spot for when the EP comes out?” Nick nods. “He got it. It’s, uh… do you ever listen to those StarlingFM Acoustic Lounge things?”
