“How did you two meet?”
“I billeted with his family for a year when I played junior hockey.”
“So you used to live together.”
“Sort of… I mean, yeah. But like brothers, you know?”
“I have brothers, and I’ve never once looked at them the way you two looked at each other.” She steps back and leans against the other side of the bar, then crosses her arms and continues to stare at me.
I roll my eyes. All of her questioning is starting to annoy me. Which is the last thing I wanted when I made the decision to come here. She was supposed to keep me from ruminating about Brandon, not over-analyzing my connection to him.
“Look,” she says, softening. “Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. All I’m trying to say is that you looked happy when he was around. And not your usual fake happy. The one you have everyone else fooled with. It was genuine and comfortable. I liked it for you.”
I look down and bring my hand to the side of my face, rubbing harshly around my temple. Quietly I admit, “I liked it too.”
TWELVE
Ryan
Brandon is running on such a hot streak since his arrival with the team that it’s becoming infectious for all of us. He truly is our secret weapon. No one knows anything about him, and they have no idea what they’re up against. Our stock is rising, and we are a game away from officially being in a playoff position.
When Cap asked who was up for a team dinner at his house before we hit the road again tomorrow to play Florida, it was a unanimous yes from everybody.
Downstairs in their basement where Vicky has set up tables and chairs for everyone, Danton raises his drink up in the air. “We’re so close, boys,” he says. “And it’s about fucking time.” He uses his free hand to point around at all of us. “Let’s keep pushing. There’s only a few weeks left to go and then we start the battle of our careers. The playoffs!”
We all shout our excitement. The closer we get to the end of the regular season, the hungrier we all are. None of us wants our season to end in April.
I turn to look at Brandon crammed beside me. “A lot of this is thanks to you, you know?”
“No it’s not,” Brandon says, taking a sip of his drink. But there’s a small smile on his face, tugging his pinkening cheeks upward.
I get it. Brandon is humble to a fault. He’s also superstitious as hell. If he starts admitting he’s as good as he is to himself, any mistake he makes he’ll attribute it to getting too cocky. But I wish hewouldget cocky. We wouldn’t be in the position we are in without him.
“Don’t you dare say beginner’s luck,” I say as I pull him under my arm. A little thrill runs up my spine when I feel him relax into my hold, which makes me keep him there longer than I probably should.
“Oh! That’s cute!” Jules says and snaps a quick picture. She checks it then shows it to us. “Perfect.”
I can’t help but agree with her. But the look I see on Brandon’s face says otherwise as he slips out from under my arm. I instantly miss having him there.
“You’re not going to post that, are you?” he asks her, aghast.
“Of course I am.” She laughs, then points at me. Her cheeks are slightly flushed. “The ladies love Ryan.”
“I’m sure they do.” Brandon rolls his eyes.
I lean in conspiratorially towards him and use that as an excuse to sling my arm around him again. “Don’t worry. The ladies love you too.”
He looks mortified at that statement.
“Actually,” Jules says, “he’s polling better with kids.”
“Great,” he says dryly.
I rub the knuckles of my hand roughly across the top of his head, messing up his already shaggy hair. “Trust me,” I say. “That’s a good thing.”
“I know,” he says, relaxing again as Jules walks away and starts taking pictures and videos of everyone else. “It’s just, maybe they shouldn’t be posting me so much. What happens when I get sent back down?”
I shake my head at him. “You’re not gonna get sent down. You’ve worked hard and you’re killing it here. You’re staying.”
