Unrivaled, page 32
A little shiver went down Max’s spine. “Kinky.” He gestured to the closet. “I’m all yours.”
Grady picked a black shirt off the hanger and held it out. It took Max a moment to realize Grady intended to slip it on him, but he turned around and Grady pulled the silky fabric up his arms. He stayed behind Max and buttoned his shirt from behind, his chin hooked over Max’s shoulder.
The hair on the back of Max’s neck rose. He licked his lips. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”
When Grady smiled, Max felt the curve of it against his jaw. “I’m just giving you incentive to play your best.” He unzipped Max’s suit pants and tucked in his shirt.
Max’s throat went dry as Grady’s fingers tickled the skin on his stomach. “Well. It’s effective.”
Grady kissed the side of his neck and did up his pants. Then he turned Max around and picked up the cuff links.
Max was pretty sure this shouldn’t be so sexy, but then Grady brushed his lips over the skin of his left wrist before fastening the lobster cuff link.
Grady repeated the treatment on the other wrist before helping Max into his jacket.
Max cleared his throat. “How do I look?”
Grady gave him a long, slow once-over. “Good enough to eat.”
Flirt. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Go win your hockey game.”
PIRANHAS BITE BACK
By Craig MacLeod
It’s not often you get a playoff series with multiple high-scoring games. Even rarer when the teams trade off scoring eight-plus goals.
But that’s what happened last night in Anaheim, as the Piranhas bounded back from an 8–5 game 1 loss to win 9–6 last night.
After facing fan criticism for “underperforming” in the first round, Max Lockhart notched his first playoff hat trick, including the game-winning goal.
The series is now tied 1–1. The next game will take place Wednesday night in Vancouver.
Postgame
Rivals Take Relationship to the Next Round—Kind Of
By Sonia Goldstein
It would have been easy to dismiss it as a rumor. When I asked LA Condor Grady Armstrong about rekindling his rivalry with former New Jersey Monster Max Lockhart, his reaction had people speculating if rivalry was the right word.
Turns out, not so much.
Hockey fans love a good narrative, and the sport gives us plenty to talk about. But Armstrong’s surprise romance with Max Lockhart has all the hallmarks of a classic love story. With a history that reads like the first chapters of a romance novel and a smush name, Strongheart, that sounds like a Care Bear, it’s no wonder people are paying attention.
After the Condors’ disappointing playoff exit, Armstrong hasn’t done much in the way of public interviews or appearances. But that didn’t stop him from attending the first game of the Piranhas’ series against the Colorado Altitude. Even in “civilian” clothes—black T-shirt, black ball cap—Armstrong stands out in a crowd, so it’s no wonder fans spotted him right away.
It might be a little surprising he showed up to each game after that wearing a shirt with a different kind of sea life on it. My personal favorite was the electric eel.
When I caught up with him after the Piranhas clinched the Western Conference Championship, he was candid about his wardrobe choice—this time featuring a cartoon crustacean playing the drums with the legend Rock Lobster. “It’s my way of toeing the line, I guess,” he said, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “Trying to find that balance between being a supportive boyfriend and not, uh, betraying my own fan base.”
He’ll be in the stands for the Cup Final too, sitting with Lockhart’s family as the Piranhas take on the New Jersey Monsters.
No matter the outcome of the series, it looks like love wins.
“I STILL can’t believe you’re doing this.” Jess shook her head. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“I’m just saying. It’s nice to see you loosen up. I take back all my objections over your love life.”
“I’m still not getting you a VIP access pass.”
Jess laughed. “Cold. Say hi to your man for me.”
Grady flashed his pass at the security guard, who rolled her eyes. By now the Fishtank staff recognized him, even if they pretended to give him a hard time for playing for the opposition. “Tell him to finish it for us, would you?”
“I think he’s pretty set on finishing it for himself.” The New Jersey Monsters had taken the Eastern Conference Championship. Max didn’t have to say anything for Grady to know he was taking the Cup Final matchup as an opportunity to make Monsters’ front office regret the trade that had upended his life.
Even if it had worked out well for him so far.
The Piranhas were up 3–2 in the series, and tonight they had home ice. The Cup was in the building.
Grady wanted to see Max lift it. At this point he didn’t even feel jealous.
But there was something he wanted to say before the dream became reality.
The locker room door was open when he walked up, and Baller saw him before he could knock. “Hey, Mad Max! Your man is here for your pregame ritual.” Then he added, to Grady, “You didn’t see my husband and adorable child by any chance?”
Grady was about to say he hadn’t, but then he saw Gabe coming down the hall with Reyna in his arms, talking to a few of the other Piranhas’ partners. “You might as well tell the room everyone is incoming.”
Before Baller could respond, Max slipped out the door and pulled Grady away. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Grady tilted his head up for a kiss—in skates, Max was taller than Grady.
He was also currently a lot hairier. His playoff beard had gotten wild. Mad Max suited him well at the moment.
“You ready?”
“Ready.” Max shifted from foot to foot, vibrating with anticipation. “Mostly. Oh.” He reached for Grady’s hand and deposited two body-warm pieces of metal into it. “For safekeeping.”
Grady curled his fingers around the cuff links. Max’s hands were on the outside of his own, and he brought Max’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them, “for luck.”
“Gross!” Max said happily. “You know being a good boyfriend isn’t a contest, right?”
“Yes it is,” Grady said, “and I’m going to win.” Provided he could figure out how to say what was on his mind without jinxing anything.
Max laughed at him—Grady would never get tired of the sound—but then he shook his head. “Come on. Something’s on your mind. Out with it.”
Grady could not “out with it.” He had to work up to it. “Keep your stick on the ice. Keep your head up. Stay out of the box.”
Max nodded seriously. “Sage advice. Very original. Please go on.”
“Full sixty-minute effort,” Grady continued. He was getting there. “Stick to your game—”
“I’m kind of wondering how long you can keep this up for.”
“Don’t go easy on Hedgewood just because he’s a dad now. He’s not going to go easy on you—”
“I promise to take full advantage of his sleep deprivation.” Max crossed his finger over his heart.
Finally Grady cracked. “I love you.”
“Hmm,” Max said. He tucked his hands into the back pockets of Grady’s shorts. “I think I’ve heard that before too.”
“Well, here’s a new one.” Grady met his gaze. “You tell anyone who asks that I will get my own ring, okay?” He’d achieve that dream through his own luck and hard work or he’d make the most of his happiness without it. He waved his hand toward the other partners, who’d convened farther down the hall. “I know everybody else is getting theirs to match—”
Max squeezed his butt, eyes dancing. “Do not buy Grady a Cup ring. Check. Anything else?”
“I thought some more about your mom’s invitation.” Max’s parents were staying at their house after a multiday train journey from the East Coast.
The first time Linda had said, “You’ll have to visit us in New Brunswick this summer,” Grady thought she was just being polite. But she kept on him. Now he thought she was angling to make sure he was there for Max’s Cup party but was too superstitious to say the words out loud.
Max hadn’t pressed the issue, but maybe it had been bothering him more than he’d let on, because he straightened. “Oh yeah?” He cleared his throat. “What did you decide?”
“I think I’ll take her up on it. I hear New Brunswick’s nice this time of year.” Then he slid his hand down and discreetly patted Max’s leggings above the tattoo of Larry. “Besides, you know I can’t resist fresh lobster.”
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Inside Edge by Ashlyn Kane
Prologue
“I, KELLY Marie Ng, take you, Caley….”
Nate Overton had been to plenty of weddings in his time. He’d even stood up in a lot of them—playing professional hockey led to the kind of intense friendship that lent itself to groomsman duties.
But this was the first time he’d held a bouquet as he stood up for a bride.
Just a few feet away, Kelly slid the ring onto Caley’s finger and wiped away a tear, her smile so bright it almost hurt to look at.
The two of them were embracing even before the officiant finished pronouncing, “You may kiss your bride.
“Please rise for the newlyweds!”
Nate let out a quiet breath that he hoped went unnoticed, and applauded with everyone else when Caley retrieved her bouquet. Then it was just the private witnessing of the certificate to get through and he could have a drink and relax.
Kelly insisted she talked enough at work, so there weren’t any speeches. Nate couldn’t say he minded, since he was in the same boat. Besides, it was nice to enjoy the meal without an hour of other people failing to prove they could’ve had a career in stand-up.
Instead, he got to ride herd on his co-bridesman, who was currently peeking up at him from under the tablecloth.
Nate bent down to speak to him in a stage whisper. “You know, there’s no green beans under the table. But there isn’t any cake either.”
Carter Ng stared back at him thoughtfully. At three and a half, he was painfully shy and just getting to that age where vegetables were the enemy.
Nate had been the favored team babysitter for the thirteen years he’d played in the NHL, and he wasn’t above bribery to keep the kid on the correct side of the table, at least until the photographers had pictures of him dancing with his mom and stepmom. Then he could get as dusty as he liked. “If you come up here and eat two more bites of vegetables, I’ll eat the rest and tell your mom you did. And then you can have cake.”
Carter considered this wordlessly for a moment before climbing back into the chair between Nate and Kelly, who threw him an amused but grateful look and then returned her attention to Caley’s great-aunt something-or-other, whose pontificating Nate had tuned out.
“So much for no speeches,” he said sotto voce to Kelly when the woman finally—blessedly—left.
On Kelly’s other side, Caley smothered a snort in her hand. He was pretty sure Kelly would’ve smacked him good-naturedly, but Carter was in the way.
“At least we’re the only ones who had to hear it,” she said, and then the emcee was calling them up for their first dance as a couple.
Nate surprised himself by making it through all of the ceremony, dinner, and the official dances—including a very short one where he swayed around the floor with a toddler giggling in his arms—without a single traumatic flashback or bittersweet memory. But when he put Carter back down, it was like he’d set down his shield against reality. He looked around quickly to ensure no one would miss him and then let himself outside for some fresh air.
Immediately he found it easier to breathe, which was stupid. He didn’t have anxiety or asthma. He didn’t have a reason to struggle with witnessing the beautiful wedding of two of his very dear friends.
Unless you counted what he had to do tomorrow.
The door behind him squeaked open, and he sighed. Caught.
“Hey,” Caley said, coming to sit next to him on the bench outside the door, heedless of her pretty white dress. “I thought I might find you here. It’s all too much, isn’t it?”
Nate tried to frown at her. “You’re missing your party. You should be celebrating.”
“I will.” She nudged closer until their shoulders bumped. “When I’m done checking on you.”
There was nothing for it; she hadn’t been the captain of multiple gold-medal-winning Olympic women’s hockey teams for nothing. He sighed. “I’m fine. I promise.”
“Forgive me if I’m concerned about the well-being of my friend, who’s putting on a very good front of being happy for me despite the fact that he’s about to fly to Texas tomorrow to sign divorce papers.” She leaned her head against his. “The timing sucks, I know.”
“We’ve been separated almost three years,” Nate said. Part of him thought repeating that should make it suck less, but no dice. “It’s past time. Not your fault there’s a scheduling conflict. I could’ve asked to push it back.”
“You should’ve,” Caley said darkly. “Just been conveniently busy until the delay would’ve ruined his wedding plans. I’m just saying.”
Nate smiled, tilting his head back. “I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it.”
“Pretty presumptuous planning a wedding before you’ve even got the ink dry on your divorce, if you ask me.”
Nate had suspicions about what Marty had been up to before their separation, never mind before their divorce, but he didn’t have any proof, and in the end it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t have lasted anyway. He’d only delayed filing for so long because it felt like giving up.
Nate’s parents hadn’t raised a quitter.
“I appreciate your support.”
“There’s an open bar, you know,” she told him unnecessarily. Then her voice turned teasing. “And you know, Kelly has this cousin….”
Oh no. No, Nate was not ready for that. But before he could protest, the door opened and Carter ran toward them, followed a few seconds later by Kelly.
“Uncle Naaaaaaate,” Carter said, patting Nate’s knees. “They’re doing cake!”
“Cake!” Nate said, standing and swooping Carter into his arms. He tossed him once, just a few inches, and caught him. “Cake sounds much better than this conversation. What a nice guy you are. Did you know I needed a rescue?”
Kelly indulgently watched the three of them. “I see you’ve successfully threatened him into a good mood.”
Caley grinned. “What can I say, it’s a gift.”
Nate craned his head back so he could look Carter in the face. “God help you when you’re a teenager in a sulk, kid. I’ll make sure you have my number.”
But he let Kelly and Caley flank him on the way back into the hall, and his maudlin thoughts didn’t catch up to him for the rest of the night.
THE PHONE call came in just after Aubrey finished in Makeup, but long before he had to be on set. Had it been any other day or any other person, he probably would have ignored it. He hadn’t met his co-star yet and he was supposed to be on the air in an hour. It was his first day on the job; he didn’t need to be taking calls at work. He was having a hard enough time wrapping his head around the show, which was mostly news, analysis, and women’s game coverage during the week, with a featured play-by-play on the weekend.
But it was his mother calling from home in Vancouver, and she called infrequently enough that he was inclined to take it.
And maybe a tiny part of him held some hope that she was calling to wish him well and let him know she’d be watching—though he didn’t know how she would, since she didn’t live in their broadcast range.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he said to the makeup tech. “Thanks, though—I look great.”
The man laughed and shooed him out of the room.
Aubrey took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”
“… no, I think the roses if you want traditional and the gerbera daisies if you want something a little more fun. Lilies are a bit morbid for a wedding— Oh! Aubrey?”
He could already feel his hackles rising. “Yeah, Mom. You called me, remember?”
“I’m sorry, I was distracted. I’ve been helping your cousin choose flowers for the ceremony.”
Aubrey glanced at his watch, counting down the minutes. He hoped his mom didn’t want to chat for long. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with her that didn’t end with one or both of them frustrated or angry. “It’s all right,” he said, trying to be patient. “So, why’d you call?”
Can’t a woman call to catch up with her only son? he half expected her to say. Lord knew he’d been burned by those words enough times. They inevitably led to invasive questions about his love life, followed by Mrs. Society So-and-So has a gay son about your age, or Your father and I miss you; when are you going to move back home? As if they’d ever spent time with him when he lived there.
If he was really lucky, she’d find a new facet of his life to disapprove of, like his diet or—
“Well, like I said, I’m here with Rachel, and she tells me you haven’t sent in your RSVP for the wedding yet.”
Aubrey’s stomach soured. “The wedding.”
Right. His cousin was getting married. Well, Rachel wasn’t actually his cousin. She was more like the kid his mom had always wanted, the daughter of his parents’ friends. Aubrey had won multiple Grand Prix events, two World Championship figure-skating titles, and an Olympic silver, along with a handful of junior medals. None of it had been good enough. Why did he have to go clubbing so often? Wasn’t he interested in a more rewarding long-term relationship? Didn’t he want to take some business classes so he could take over his parents’ hospitality business one day?
Why couldn’t he be more like Rachel, basically.
Grady picked a black shirt off the hanger and held it out. It took Max a moment to realize Grady intended to slip it on him, but he turned around and Grady pulled the silky fabric up his arms. He stayed behind Max and buttoned his shirt from behind, his chin hooked over Max’s shoulder.
The hair on the back of Max’s neck rose. He licked his lips. “Are you torturing me on purpose?”
When Grady smiled, Max felt the curve of it against his jaw. “I’m just giving you incentive to play your best.” He unzipped Max’s suit pants and tucked in his shirt.
Max’s throat went dry as Grady’s fingers tickled the skin on his stomach. “Well. It’s effective.”
Grady kissed the side of his neck and did up his pants. Then he turned Max around and picked up the cuff links.
Max was pretty sure this shouldn’t be so sexy, but then Grady brushed his lips over the skin of his left wrist before fastening the lobster cuff link.
Grady repeated the treatment on the other wrist before helping Max into his jacket.
Max cleared his throat. “How do I look?”
Grady gave him a long, slow once-over. “Good enough to eat.”
Flirt. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Go win your hockey game.”
PIRANHAS BITE BACK
By Craig MacLeod
It’s not often you get a playoff series with multiple high-scoring games. Even rarer when the teams trade off scoring eight-plus goals.
But that’s what happened last night in Anaheim, as the Piranhas bounded back from an 8–5 game 1 loss to win 9–6 last night.
After facing fan criticism for “underperforming” in the first round, Max Lockhart notched his first playoff hat trick, including the game-winning goal.
The series is now tied 1–1. The next game will take place Wednesday night in Vancouver.
Postgame
Rivals Take Relationship to the Next Round—Kind Of
By Sonia Goldstein
It would have been easy to dismiss it as a rumor. When I asked LA Condor Grady Armstrong about rekindling his rivalry with former New Jersey Monster Max Lockhart, his reaction had people speculating if rivalry was the right word.
Turns out, not so much.
Hockey fans love a good narrative, and the sport gives us plenty to talk about. But Armstrong’s surprise romance with Max Lockhart has all the hallmarks of a classic love story. With a history that reads like the first chapters of a romance novel and a smush name, Strongheart, that sounds like a Care Bear, it’s no wonder people are paying attention.
After the Condors’ disappointing playoff exit, Armstrong hasn’t done much in the way of public interviews or appearances. But that didn’t stop him from attending the first game of the Piranhas’ series against the Colorado Altitude. Even in “civilian” clothes—black T-shirt, black ball cap—Armstrong stands out in a crowd, so it’s no wonder fans spotted him right away.
It might be a little surprising he showed up to each game after that wearing a shirt with a different kind of sea life on it. My personal favorite was the electric eel.
When I caught up with him after the Piranhas clinched the Western Conference Championship, he was candid about his wardrobe choice—this time featuring a cartoon crustacean playing the drums with the legend Rock Lobster. “It’s my way of toeing the line, I guess,” he said, pulling at the fabric of his shirt. “Trying to find that balance between being a supportive boyfriend and not, uh, betraying my own fan base.”
He’ll be in the stands for the Cup Final too, sitting with Lockhart’s family as the Piranhas take on the New Jersey Monsters.
No matter the outcome of the series, it looks like love wins.
“I STILL can’t believe you’re doing this.” Jess shook her head. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“I’m just saying. It’s nice to see you loosen up. I take back all my objections over your love life.”
“I’m still not getting you a VIP access pass.”
Jess laughed. “Cold. Say hi to your man for me.”
Grady flashed his pass at the security guard, who rolled her eyes. By now the Fishtank staff recognized him, even if they pretended to give him a hard time for playing for the opposition. “Tell him to finish it for us, would you?”
“I think he’s pretty set on finishing it for himself.” The New Jersey Monsters had taken the Eastern Conference Championship. Max didn’t have to say anything for Grady to know he was taking the Cup Final matchup as an opportunity to make Monsters’ front office regret the trade that had upended his life.
Even if it had worked out well for him so far.
The Piranhas were up 3–2 in the series, and tonight they had home ice. The Cup was in the building.
Grady wanted to see Max lift it. At this point he didn’t even feel jealous.
But there was something he wanted to say before the dream became reality.
The locker room door was open when he walked up, and Baller saw him before he could knock. “Hey, Mad Max! Your man is here for your pregame ritual.” Then he added, to Grady, “You didn’t see my husband and adorable child by any chance?”
Grady was about to say he hadn’t, but then he saw Gabe coming down the hall with Reyna in his arms, talking to a few of the other Piranhas’ partners. “You might as well tell the room everyone is incoming.”
Before Baller could respond, Max slipped out the door and pulled Grady away. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Grady tilted his head up for a kiss—in skates, Max was taller than Grady.
He was also currently a lot hairier. His playoff beard had gotten wild. Mad Max suited him well at the moment.
“You ready?”
“Ready.” Max shifted from foot to foot, vibrating with anticipation. “Mostly. Oh.” He reached for Grady’s hand and deposited two body-warm pieces of metal into it. “For safekeeping.”
Grady curled his fingers around the cuff links. Max’s hands were on the outside of his own, and he brought Max’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them, “for luck.”
“Gross!” Max said happily. “You know being a good boyfriend isn’t a contest, right?”
“Yes it is,” Grady said, “and I’m going to win.” Provided he could figure out how to say what was on his mind without jinxing anything.
Max laughed at him—Grady would never get tired of the sound—but then he shook his head. “Come on. Something’s on your mind. Out with it.”
Grady could not “out with it.” He had to work up to it. “Keep your stick on the ice. Keep your head up. Stay out of the box.”
Max nodded seriously. “Sage advice. Very original. Please go on.”
“Full sixty-minute effort,” Grady continued. He was getting there. “Stick to your game—”
“I’m kind of wondering how long you can keep this up for.”
“Don’t go easy on Hedgewood just because he’s a dad now. He’s not going to go easy on you—”
“I promise to take full advantage of his sleep deprivation.” Max crossed his finger over his heart.
Finally Grady cracked. “I love you.”
“Hmm,” Max said. He tucked his hands into the back pockets of Grady’s shorts. “I think I’ve heard that before too.”
“Well, here’s a new one.” Grady met his gaze. “You tell anyone who asks that I will get my own ring, okay?” He’d achieve that dream through his own luck and hard work or he’d make the most of his happiness without it. He waved his hand toward the other partners, who’d convened farther down the hall. “I know everybody else is getting theirs to match—”
Max squeezed his butt, eyes dancing. “Do not buy Grady a Cup ring. Check. Anything else?”
“I thought some more about your mom’s invitation.” Max’s parents were staying at their house after a multiday train journey from the East Coast.
The first time Linda had said, “You’ll have to visit us in New Brunswick this summer,” Grady thought she was just being polite. But she kept on him. Now he thought she was angling to make sure he was there for Max’s Cup party but was too superstitious to say the words out loud.
Max hadn’t pressed the issue, but maybe it had been bothering him more than he’d let on, because he straightened. “Oh yeah?” He cleared his throat. “What did you decide?”
“I think I’ll take her up on it. I hear New Brunswick’s nice this time of year.” Then he slid his hand down and discreetly patted Max’s leggings above the tattoo of Larry. “Besides, you know I can’t resist fresh lobster.”
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Inside Edge by Ashlyn Kane
Prologue
“I, KELLY Marie Ng, take you, Caley….”
Nate Overton had been to plenty of weddings in his time. He’d even stood up in a lot of them—playing professional hockey led to the kind of intense friendship that lent itself to groomsman duties.
But this was the first time he’d held a bouquet as he stood up for a bride.
Just a few feet away, Kelly slid the ring onto Caley’s finger and wiped away a tear, her smile so bright it almost hurt to look at.
The two of them were embracing even before the officiant finished pronouncing, “You may kiss your bride.
“Please rise for the newlyweds!”
Nate let out a quiet breath that he hoped went unnoticed, and applauded with everyone else when Caley retrieved her bouquet. Then it was just the private witnessing of the certificate to get through and he could have a drink and relax.
Kelly insisted she talked enough at work, so there weren’t any speeches. Nate couldn’t say he minded, since he was in the same boat. Besides, it was nice to enjoy the meal without an hour of other people failing to prove they could’ve had a career in stand-up.
Instead, he got to ride herd on his co-bridesman, who was currently peeking up at him from under the tablecloth.
Nate bent down to speak to him in a stage whisper. “You know, there’s no green beans under the table. But there isn’t any cake either.”
Carter Ng stared back at him thoughtfully. At three and a half, he was painfully shy and just getting to that age where vegetables were the enemy.
Nate had been the favored team babysitter for the thirteen years he’d played in the NHL, and he wasn’t above bribery to keep the kid on the correct side of the table, at least until the photographers had pictures of him dancing with his mom and stepmom. Then he could get as dusty as he liked. “If you come up here and eat two more bites of vegetables, I’ll eat the rest and tell your mom you did. And then you can have cake.”
Carter considered this wordlessly for a moment before climbing back into the chair between Nate and Kelly, who threw him an amused but grateful look and then returned her attention to Caley’s great-aunt something-or-other, whose pontificating Nate had tuned out.
“So much for no speeches,” he said sotto voce to Kelly when the woman finally—blessedly—left.
On Kelly’s other side, Caley smothered a snort in her hand. He was pretty sure Kelly would’ve smacked him good-naturedly, but Carter was in the way.
“At least we’re the only ones who had to hear it,” she said, and then the emcee was calling them up for their first dance as a couple.
Nate surprised himself by making it through all of the ceremony, dinner, and the official dances—including a very short one where he swayed around the floor with a toddler giggling in his arms—without a single traumatic flashback or bittersweet memory. But when he put Carter back down, it was like he’d set down his shield against reality. He looked around quickly to ensure no one would miss him and then let himself outside for some fresh air.
Immediately he found it easier to breathe, which was stupid. He didn’t have anxiety or asthma. He didn’t have a reason to struggle with witnessing the beautiful wedding of two of his very dear friends.
Unless you counted what he had to do tomorrow.
The door behind him squeaked open, and he sighed. Caught.
“Hey,” Caley said, coming to sit next to him on the bench outside the door, heedless of her pretty white dress. “I thought I might find you here. It’s all too much, isn’t it?”
Nate tried to frown at her. “You’re missing your party. You should be celebrating.”
“I will.” She nudged closer until their shoulders bumped. “When I’m done checking on you.”
There was nothing for it; she hadn’t been the captain of multiple gold-medal-winning Olympic women’s hockey teams for nothing. He sighed. “I’m fine. I promise.”
“Forgive me if I’m concerned about the well-being of my friend, who’s putting on a very good front of being happy for me despite the fact that he’s about to fly to Texas tomorrow to sign divorce papers.” She leaned her head against his. “The timing sucks, I know.”
“We’ve been separated almost three years,” Nate said. Part of him thought repeating that should make it suck less, but no dice. “It’s past time. Not your fault there’s a scheduling conflict. I could’ve asked to push it back.”
“You should’ve,” Caley said darkly. “Just been conveniently busy until the delay would’ve ruined his wedding plans. I’m just saying.”
Nate smiled, tilting his head back. “I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it.”
“Pretty presumptuous planning a wedding before you’ve even got the ink dry on your divorce, if you ask me.”
Nate had suspicions about what Marty had been up to before their separation, never mind before their divorce, but he didn’t have any proof, and in the end it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t have lasted anyway. He’d only delayed filing for so long because it felt like giving up.
Nate’s parents hadn’t raised a quitter.
“I appreciate your support.”
“There’s an open bar, you know,” she told him unnecessarily. Then her voice turned teasing. “And you know, Kelly has this cousin….”
Oh no. No, Nate was not ready for that. But before he could protest, the door opened and Carter ran toward them, followed a few seconds later by Kelly.
“Uncle Naaaaaaate,” Carter said, patting Nate’s knees. “They’re doing cake!”
“Cake!” Nate said, standing and swooping Carter into his arms. He tossed him once, just a few inches, and caught him. “Cake sounds much better than this conversation. What a nice guy you are. Did you know I needed a rescue?”
Kelly indulgently watched the three of them. “I see you’ve successfully threatened him into a good mood.”
Caley grinned. “What can I say, it’s a gift.”
Nate craned his head back so he could look Carter in the face. “God help you when you’re a teenager in a sulk, kid. I’ll make sure you have my number.”
But he let Kelly and Caley flank him on the way back into the hall, and his maudlin thoughts didn’t catch up to him for the rest of the night.
THE PHONE call came in just after Aubrey finished in Makeup, but long before he had to be on set. Had it been any other day or any other person, he probably would have ignored it. He hadn’t met his co-star yet and he was supposed to be on the air in an hour. It was his first day on the job; he didn’t need to be taking calls at work. He was having a hard enough time wrapping his head around the show, which was mostly news, analysis, and women’s game coverage during the week, with a featured play-by-play on the weekend.
But it was his mother calling from home in Vancouver, and she called infrequently enough that he was inclined to take it.
And maybe a tiny part of him held some hope that she was calling to wish him well and let him know she’d be watching—though he didn’t know how she would, since she didn’t live in their broadcast range.
“I’m sorry, I’ve got to take this,” he said to the makeup tech. “Thanks, though—I look great.”
The man laughed and shooed him out of the room.
Aubrey took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hi, Mom.”
“… no, I think the roses if you want traditional and the gerbera daisies if you want something a little more fun. Lilies are a bit morbid for a wedding— Oh! Aubrey?”
He could already feel his hackles rising. “Yeah, Mom. You called me, remember?”
“I’m sorry, I was distracted. I’ve been helping your cousin choose flowers for the ceremony.”
Aubrey glanced at his watch, counting down the minutes. He hoped his mom didn’t want to chat for long. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with her that didn’t end with one or both of them frustrated or angry. “It’s all right,” he said, trying to be patient. “So, why’d you call?”
Can’t a woman call to catch up with her only son? he half expected her to say. Lord knew he’d been burned by those words enough times. They inevitably led to invasive questions about his love life, followed by Mrs. Society So-and-So has a gay son about your age, or Your father and I miss you; when are you going to move back home? As if they’d ever spent time with him when he lived there.
If he was really lucky, she’d find a new facet of his life to disapprove of, like his diet or—
“Well, like I said, I’m here with Rachel, and she tells me you haven’t sent in your RSVP for the wedding yet.”
Aubrey’s stomach soured. “The wedding.”
Right. His cousin was getting married. Well, Rachel wasn’t actually his cousin. She was more like the kid his mom had always wanted, the daughter of his parents’ friends. Aubrey had won multiple Grand Prix events, two World Championship figure-skating titles, and an Olympic silver, along with a handful of junior medals. None of it had been good enough. Why did he have to go clubbing so often? Wasn’t he interested in a more rewarding long-term relationship? Didn’t he want to take some business classes so he could take over his parents’ hospitality business one day?
Why couldn’t he be more like Rachel, basically.
