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“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll get out of your hair. When’s your next shift?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Good. We can catch up”—he looked at me pointedly—“then.”
“We sure can.” The smile she graced him with was playful and cheeky in a way I’d never have thought possible from someone of her seemingly serious disposition. Maybe I’d read her wrong in the first place. Maybe she wasn’t stern and serious as cancer with the world in general, just with me. Great.
I motioned to the seats, indicating that she should choose where she wanted to sit. She took the easy chair facing the door of the cafe. Smart girl. I lowered myself into the couch opposite, so that we sat facing each other, our cheeks side-on to the large window and world beyond it.
“So?” I spread my arms expansively, the epitome of an open book, inviting her to turn the pages. I couldn’t guarantee that they wouldn’t be blank, but she was welcome to have a look for herself.
“Mind if I record this? It just helps me transcribe later, and means that I can concentrate on our conversation without having to take notes.
“Sure. Whatever. Knock yourself out.”
“Okay, thanks.” She looked down at her phone, tapped away for a few moments, then placed it on the table between us.
“So, I’m here with Bryce “Bear” Hamilton, the captain of the Heathcote Hurricanes, who has led his team to victory numerous times in his glittering career. I guess my first question should be, ‘why do they call you Bear?’”
Chapter 6
Honey
He looked at me as though I was a simpleton, before tipping his head back and laughing long and hard.
“Because I like shitting in the woods, of course.”
Fuck. I maintained eye contact, but I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Asshole.
“Interesting…though I imagine you must get quite constipated?”
“Why do you say that?”
I loved the look of confusion on his face, Yeah, you’re going to want to try harder than that if you want to get one over on me, buddy.
“Well we’re a long way away from any kind of woods, so what does a suburban bear do when nature calls? Just clench and hope for the best? Or cop a squat in the nearest backyard?”
“Touché. That was actually really funny. I’ll give you that round.” He was surprisingly good-humored in the face of defeat. Not what I would have expected from a guy like him. Also, he had a dimple when he smiled. Which was totally irrelevant, yet seemingly pertinent to my subconscious mind. Also to parts of my body way below my mind—in fact, below my waistband.
“It’s such a predictable nickname that most people guess the reason correctly. You don’t win any prizes for noticing that I’m a big guy. I always have been, even when I was a baby. I always measured off the standard growth charts. Like so far off, it quickly became obvious that measuring me was kind of a pointless exercise, so they stopped. All everyone knew or needed to know was that I was bigger than every kid for miles around, including my siblings.”
“Really?”
“Yup. My parents are fairly average-sized, as is pretty much everyone in my extended family—except one person per generation. I’m that person for my generation.” He shrugged as though to convey ‘what can I say?’
“So if it runs in the family, is it a genetic condition?”
“Nah. None of us are record-breaking height. Just bigger than average, and definitely bigger than anyone else in the family. Apparently, it’s a throwback from a grandfather many moons ago on my mom’s side. When I was under a year old, my uncle said I was like a bear cub, and the name just kind of stuck”
“Okay, so what was it like growing up as the bear cub?”
“I don’t understand the question.” He looked at me as if that fact was my fault, not his.
“Well, kids can be assholes, and they’ll jump on any perceived difference and run with it.” I knew that from bitter personal experience. “Did you find the same thing? I mean were you ever teased at school?”
He laughed again; not as heartily as before, but maintaining eye contact with me the whole time. I didn’t dare lower my gaze to take in his dimple this time. It was enough to simply know it was there, as I was more than able to picture it in my mind’s eye.
“Well, that’s the thing about my ‘difference’ being my size. No kid in their right mind with an attachment to their teeth was going to mess with the boy who routinely got called in to defend his older siblings.”
