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“Didn’t think I needed the distraction tonight. Wanted to enjoy celebrating the season with you guys.” Plus, they’d recently announced a stupid “rule.”
“Rock didn’t get the memo,” Deck said, his eyes back on the bar where Rock Stevens, our center, sat on a barstool with his fiancée Drea standing between his legs. His hand was on her ass, and the way they were making out told me they were probably minutes from slipping inside. I wondered if Mizzoni had a bunch of rules about hockey players fucking on his furniture too. Probably. But it wasn’t my problem.
“Remember, fiancées are different than puck bunnies,” Corny said. “Sly didn’t bring anyone because he remembers that we made a rule.”
“I date a specific type of woman for a specific reason,” I said. I only dated puck bunnies and other women who were interested in the lifestyle, the prominence that being seen with me brought them. There was no danger of...well, anything, really, if the understanding between us was clear from the start. And there was usually no drama at the end.
“Right,” Deck said, slurping his margarita noisily and then eyeballing it. “These are ridiculous. I don’t think Mizzoni followed the recipe when he loaded that machine he bought.”
We all glanced back at the bar, where Freddy Elks and Cade Simpson were pouring another bottle of tequila into the top of the machine. “He had help,” I noted.
I leaned back, letting my eyes slip shut and the sound of the music and my teammates’ banter float around me. This was perfect. This was everything I needed in life.
At least it was close enough. For now.
The team would hang out here all night. Half the guys would sleep where they fell, and in the morning we’d strategize when to do it again. We’d be back at practice soon enough, but for now, we got to be just friends. A family, really. And it was one of the best feelings in the world.
Which was why it kind of sucked that I couldn’t stay long, but I wasn’t making my exit quite yet. I needed a few hours of this before I headed back home to face the work waiting for me there.
“You guys want to go to Europe this summer?” Deck asked.
I opened my eyes and sat up a bit. “What’s your plan?”
“Thinking about renting a house or something. Someplace nice.”
“Italy,” Freddy suggested. “Then we get to call it a villa.”
Corny sighed and didn’t bother opening his eyes to say, “The Amalfi coast. But it’s likely to be crowded this year since the pandemic’s officially over and everything. Prices will probably go back up. I can ask my dad about the boat.” Corny grew up wealthy. But not just drive-a-nice-car and have someone else clean your floors rich. His family owned islands and vineyards and probably a few small countries. Most of the time you wouldn’t have known it, though.
“Shit, could you see us floating around the Mediterranean?” Deck laughed.
“Definitely,” I said, wondering what the Wi-Fi would be like. Could I pull that off and still keep up my course load? Could I figure out how to get a month off from school? My phone buzzed in my pocket, interrupting my thoughts. I slid it out, happy to see Beckett’s name pop up. I hadn’t talked to my brother in a while, and I was pretty sure he was calling to congratulate us on a good season.
“Little brother, what’s good?” I asked, a crazy sense of fulfillment washing through me. Life was pretty fucking perfect.
“I’ve got news, Sly.” Beck sounded happy, so no alarms blared within me. We were a little worried about Dad’s health, and the potential for bad news was always in the back of my mind, but it didn’t sound like this was that call.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m engaged, man. Zara and I are getting married.”
I sat up, raising my beer to my brother, though he couldn’t see it. “Congratulations, man!” I pulled the phone away from my ear and shouted, “My little brother’s getting married!”
The guys all cheered and lifted drinks to toast my brother. Some of them had met Beckett, most of them hadn’t. It didn’t matter — this was how it was. We had each other’s backs in everything. Celebrated together, mourned together.
“That’s awesome,” I told him. “When’s the wedding?”
“Soon, actually. That’s why I’m calling. Beginning of August. Think you can make it?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”
“Will you be my best man?”
“Definitely. I’m honored, little bro.”
“There’s, uh...there’s just one thing.” Beck said.
“What’s that?”
