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He got into his gear and shook his head in amazement at how much things had changed in only a couple of years. No longer was the room full of trash talk and bravado. Now it was Blackwell asking Booker how the baby was. Or Jack Johnson wondering what kind of diaper he should be buying for his son because the ones his wife picked up didn’t do the trick. Then his brother piped in about Molly and her mood swings, wondering how best to handle them.
“First thing I learned.” Hudson laughed at that. “Just say yes to anything she wants.”
Beck was out after that. He grabbed his stick and headed for the ice, content to play the game and burn off the dark energy that seemed to have settled over him for days now. Afterward, he headed back to the Coach House for wings and beer. The guys were riding a high after beating their rivals, the Ice Kings, and he nursed a mug of ale while waiting for the food. Nathan surprised all of them by joining the team at the bar; he usually headed home to Molly as soon as the game was over. He slid on to the stool beside Beck and grabbed a mug from Hudson.
“Good game,” Nate said. “You were on fire.”
Beck grunted an answer. He’d scored four of their six goals.
Hudson held up his mug. “The Rust Buckets just might make the playoffs.”
They all cheered at that, as it had been a few years, and Beck settled back in his seat.
“Look, I don’t want to get up in your business, but I feel I should warn you.” Nathan took a sip of beer and glanced at his brother. “Mom will probably be popping by at some point.”
“She was at my place this morning before you were out of bed.”
“Man.” Nate shook his head. “She’s fast.”
“Yeah.” Beck leaned back and shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I was an asshole last night, and she wanted me to know that she knew. I told her not to worry about me, and I apologized to your friend.”
“Sid?”
“Is there another friend of yours I need to apologize to?”
“Are you always so damn sarcastic?”
“No.” Beck grinned. “Only with you.” He paused. “We’re good. I know you guys mean well, but like I told Mom, I’m fine. I’m hoping that now you and Moll and Mom know to back off when it comes to my private life.”
Nate held up his hands. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m done with all that matchmaking crap.”
“Good.”
The boys settled in and, as usual, tall tales were told, gossip was swapped, and before he knew it, a couple of hours had passed. Beck was still nursing the same beer he started out with, so he pushed it aside, tossed some cash down, and said his goodbyes.
“Where’re you off to in such a rush?” Nash Booker grinned from across the table. “It’s early.”
“It’s been a long day.” That nervous energy was back, and Beck gave one last wave before heading out into the cold night air. He stood at the bottom of the steps for a few seconds, his breath making smoke rings as he exhaled, and then scooped his cell phone out of his pocket. He searched through the numbers and sent a message.
You still up?
A few moments later, he saw the three dots signaling a reply and waited.
You coming over?
Was thinking about it
I’ll be in the hot tub
Beck read the messages over a few more times, hand on his phone, because he was torn. He didn’t want to be that guy. The kind who used women for sex and nothing else. Though, to be honest, this thing he and Emily had was equal parts usage on both sides. They’d gone into this with an understanding, and as long as that understanding wasn’t challenged, the status quo was good for both of them.
He was on edge and riding close to something that couldn’t be good. There was only one way to get rid of it. It was time to scratch that itch.
Be there in five
He sent his reply and headed to his truck, pointing it in the opposite direction of his place when he left the Coach House. It didn’t take long to cruise to the other side of town and pull up in the driveway of a cute little bungalow he’d worked on a few years back. It was set way back from the road, which was why he didn’t mind coming out here. And with no neighbors to the left and old Mrs. Crump on the right, so far the rumor mill hadn’t picked on whatever it was he had going on with Emily Davenport.
The door opened under his hand, and the soft glow of candles threw shadows everywhere. He stepped out of his boots and grabbed the cold beer waiting for him on the kitchen island. He took a few swigs before walking over to the garden doors that led out back. He stood there for a while, enjoying the silence, and glanced to his right at the photo that sat on a small table.
