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“Fine.”
I arch a brow. “Fine?”
“It’ll be easy enough for me to corner him in person and ask him how he feels about you myself.”
“What?”
Her smirk is devilish, and my stomach drops. “Didn’t you know that he’s performing at the wedding tonight?”
26
BRODY
“My man!”
The growly shout belongs to an old friend, someone I spent years playing hockey with in Cherry Peak before he was drafted into the NHL. Walker Morales is the starting goalie for the Ottawa Beavertails and, today, a goddamnhusband.
“All those years apart and you still look like a prepubescent boy,” I joke, welcoming him into a tight hug.
He pounds a steady fist against my back, howling a laugh at my weak insult. His thick beard puts any facial hair I can grow to shame. “And you’re still a damn country hick. Would it have killed you to leave the hat at home for a day?”
I swipe a finger along the rim of the hat in question, grinning. “Care to be reminded just how much of a country hick you were before the NHL stole you away? And don’t talk shit about my hat. Is my suit not enough for you?”
“I get enough of a reminder from my parents. They’ll never let me forget my cowboy roots.” Walker’s smile is loose and wide, a pure, rare breed of happy in his expression. “I’m surprised you didn’t show up in jeans and a greasy shirt, honestly. I’ll take the suit and the hat. You look good, buddy. Are you sure you can do this today?”
“Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
It’s a little white lie. I shouldn’t be here, and my doctor agrees. My first appointment for vocal rehab isn’t until next week, and the doc was tied in a million knots when I told him my plans for today. It’s a stupid, reckless risk to sing today, but I promised Walker long before my injury that I’d do this for him, and I’m a man of honour. I don’t go back on my promises.
It will only be a couple of hours’ worth of strain. If I can’t do this today, then I might as well stop hoping for a comeback anytime soon. I rehearsed this morning after swallowing a couple of painkillers just in case, and I sounded fine. Ifeelfine. My body is just that. Mine. And I know my limits. I knew them the first time too, but I chose to ignore them. That won’t happen again.
“Good to hear it. Have you met the rest of the wedding party?”
“Most of ’em,” I say.
The wedding ceremony earlier was an intimate event, and with that, only the bridal party and close family were invited. I used the time they were off tying the knot to prepare for the reception at the hotel ballroom venue. The staff were running around to get everything finished up, and I was grateful for their distraction in case I sounded like a dying animal instead of the Brody Steele everyone is expecting.
Walker’s wife is a sweet thing, originally from Ottawa, with a weak French accent I learned she picked up while living in Montreal for a few years growing up. Walker looks at her like she’s his lifeline, and I’m happy to note that she watches him in the same way. We may not be as close as we were back in our peewee days, but some friendships you don’t lose despite how crazy life gets.
“Good. I hate introductions, and I’ve had to do enough of them today,” Walker says.
“It’s all worth it, though, yeah? All of the stress of a wedding?”
“Without a doubt. Was worth it from the moment I saw her walking down the aisle.”
I tuck my hands into the pockets of my slacks and lean against the wall of the dressing room the groomsmen used to get ready this morning. There are only a few minutes until the bride and groom have to make their grand entrance into the ballroom and I get called out to sing their first-dance song.
It’s always nerve-racking performing in front of people, but I’ve grown used to the stadiums and festivals. It’s rare that I’ll have a twisted stomach before a show. Tonight, however, it’s in knots.
“I’m surprised you’re not off with your new bride already. Aren’t you supposed to be joined at the hip now?” I ask teasingly.
“Wanted to check on you first. You’re doing us a huge favour tonight.”
“It’s no skin off my back, man.”
“Maybe not, but I still appreciate it.”
Sincerity shines in his eyes, and I pat his arm. “Anytime. Now, go find your wife.”
