Boyfriend. I don’t fight the smile that splits across my face as I stand up, filled with pride. I stretch out my hand for him to shake it but instead he pulls me into a huge hug.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Hackerly,” I muffle.
My face is squashed against his chest, and I see Wren giggle.
“The pleasure is all mine, son.”
He pats me on the back hard. Wren stands at my side, with a smile, giving me a double thumbs up.Well, that was easy.He sits down across from us, his deep brown eyes flickering between the two of us as Wren moves her chair closer to mine, so her shoulder nestles in my chest.
“So, what do you do at NU, Miles?” Wren’s dad asks, folding and unfolding his hands at the table.
“I play hockey. I’m currently on the bench but I’m getting back up there,” I reply with a shrug. All of my focus turns onto my thigh where Wren squeezes it reassuringly. I look down at her but she’s staring ahead like she hasn’t just set every nerve in my body on fire.
“Ah, that’s good. I used to play back in my day, but I wasn’t any good,” he replies with a vague waft in the air.
“I’ve seen the videos, dad. You were insanely good,” Wren challenges with an easy laugh.
“Eh, I guess so,” he shrugs shyly. "How are you your finding second year at NU?"
"It's going okay. It's better than first year but the content is getting harder," I admit.
Wren's dad nods. "That's good. This one over here thinks her classes are too easy." He nods over to Wren and she rolls her eyes. Her dad turns back to me. "Would you fancy having a few rounds on the ice sometime?”
“Yeah.” I respond too quickly and Wren backs away from me to look up to me, her eyes glistening. “That would be great.”
Wren’s dad only stays for a few more minutes before he has to go back and forth speaking to more people. I notice how comfortable she is around her dad in this environment. The same way she is around me. She doesn’t tense or freeze up when she’s talking to him. She talks animatedly with her hands, expressing her excitement in a childlike way.
She doesn’t need to be anyone other than Wren. Not Wren the Future Olympian. Just her. The person I can see myself liking more and more each day. The person whose whole face lights up like sunlight as she talks about the things she loves with her dad. When she leaves to go to the bathroom while I get us drinks from the bar, her dad appears beside me. He studies me for a minute and I feel suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.
"You making her happy?" he asks, the playful conversation from earlier becoming serious.
I nod. "I'm trying to," I say, and it doesn't feel like much of a lie.
"Everyday?"
"Everyday."
He nods at me and pats me on the shoulder. Is this what all dad's do? "Good," he concedes before disappearing again.
I also didn’t realise how big the world of hoteliers was until tonight. It looks like people from up and down the country — and across the world — come to these events.
Weirdly enough, it reminds me a lot of my family and how loud and chaotic we are. Birthdays in the Davis family are always insane. Thoughts and feelings are always at full volume. They look a lot like this but with more drinking, more cheesy music, and more burnt food.
“So, Mr Hackerly, I have a very important question to ask,” I begin when her dad returns to the table, feeling a little mischievous. Wren must know exactly what I’m up to because she glares at me.
Wren’s dad finishes his Scotch and looks at me. “Please, call me David,” he pleads, waving his hand around. Wren laughs a little, still glaring at me. Honestly, it’s a little creepy.
“What do you think about cheese? Just in general. Like? Dislike?” I ask, feigning curiosity. Wren elbows me in the rib and I smirk at her. “Oh, orloatheas your daughter likes to say.”
Mr Hacke-Davidlaughs. “You know what, Miles? I cannot stand cream cheese. Everyone thinks-”
I can tell he’s about to go on a rant but Wren cuts in. “Miles hates cream cheese too.” She blinks up at me, her eyes silently screaming at me. “Don’t you,Milesy?”
I can see the disgust on her face at using the nickname but I fucking love it. I'm a sucker for a pet name.
“Yep, sure do,” I bite out, turning back to Wren’s dad, leaning on the table. “Now, tell me, David, what is it exactly that-"
“Dad!” Wren basically shouts. She’s a first one. She must really not want her dad to talk about cream cheese. “Why don’t you tell Milesy about how you almost made it pro?”
