29. Bridgette
Bridgette
I wasn’t exaggerating when I told Dutton how much I love hockey.
I know a lot of people get bored watching their siblings play.
Or they just get tired of sitting in the cold for hours on end.
But Bran and I were never like that with each other.
We’ve always been supportive, not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because we genuinely care about each other.
Things between us aren’t quite back to where they used to be, but I can tell we’re getting there. When I met him at the library today, I was wearing the same shirt I have on right now, and he didn’t even make a comment. Not a single one. That’s progress.
Even if he would have complained, I’d still be proudly wearing my number thirteen jersey with the name Wagner on the back.
And I feel especially good wearing it, since I’m sitting with the girls and they’re all wearing their favorite guys' jerseys.
It feels good to have girlfriends when, for so long, my world revolved around school and work.
Transferring to Bainbridge was the best decision I could have made, and I’m so glad I took the leap.
When the guys skate off the ice after a solid showing in the first period, the girls start to chatter about classes and everyday life, but I’m still thinking about what I just saw on the ice.
There’s a unity there that was missing before.
It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but I could tell they were playing as a much more cohesive unit.
Hell, Dutton was actually passing the puck!
That deserves an award. Hmmm… I’m going to have to come up with something good to reward his improvement.
“Are you, Bridgette?”
I turn toward Maggie. “Sorry. I was totally spaced out. What was that?”
Maggie’s smile is serene. “I was just wondering if you’re coming to Uncle Hudson’s for Thanksgiving? Since the guys travel the next day, there’s not really enough time for you to head back to Jersey, is there?”
I shake my head. “There’s not, and I can pick up some extra hours at the salon that weekend since no one else wants to come in.”
Maggie nods. “Well, believe it or not, my stoic hockey coach of an uncle throws a really good holiday party.”
Her invitation is thoughtful, and I hate to turn it down, but I already have plans. “That sounds like fun, but Dutton and I are having dinner with his family.”
“That’s exciting,” she says. “Have the best time. They’re going to love you. And you guys should stop by Uncle Hudson’s on the way back.”
I nod because that sounds like fun. This team is a family, and I’m lucky to be part of it. I’m a little nervous to meet Dutton’s entire family all at once, but I’m also looking forward to it. It feels like a big step, a serious one. And I’m ready for it.
Okay, I’m going to stress all week about what dress to wear and how to style my hair, but other than that, I’m ready for it.
When we get to the hockey house after the game and finally make it up to Dutton’s room, holiday plans are the last thing on my mind.
I should probably bring a pie or a bottle of wine, but those are decisions for another day.
All I’m thinking about when I’m in his bed is the way he makes my body feel and all the ways I can return the favor.
I never really cared about sex before, but the connection I have with Dutton is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
After we’ve worn each other out, he’s fast asleep next to me, but since I can’t get my brain to slow down enough to let me get some actual rest, I decide to head downstairs in search of a glass of water.
Slipping on the silky blue robe he likes so much, I make my way toward the kitchen.
I’m not surprised that some guys still have their lights on, even though it’s well past midnight, but I am a little surprised to see my brother walk by wearing nothing but his boxers.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. It is his house. And I’m grateful he’s wearing clothes. Things have been better between us since my cousin’s wedding, but this is still awkward.
“Hey, Birdie,” he says with a smile and a salute.
Okay, maybe it’s just awkward for me.
“Hi, I’m just going downstairs for water. I got thirsty after—well, I just got thirsty. It wasn’t because of anything. It’s just middle of the night thirst, you know?”
Okay, it’s just me. I’m the awkward one.
Thankfully, Mickey’s back in best-brother-ever mode. “It’s okay, Birdie. You’re allowed to get a drink. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “You really are okay with this?” It shouldn’t matter, and it doesn’t. At least, not in a way that would threaten my relationship with Dutton. But it does matter for the future of my relationship with my twin.
“Yeah, I really am, “ he says. And I’m sorry it took me so long to get over myself. I was afraid he wouldn’t be good to you, but that’s clearly not a problem. He makes you happy, and that’s all I care about.”
“He makes me so happy,” I say, realizing I’ve probably said too much, considering I’m not wearing much and that I regularly sleep over.
Mickey clears his throat as his cheeks turn bright red. “Yeah, I mean, I’m totally fine with you guys playing chess together all night. It's weird you're wearing a robe, but whatever.”
I throw my brother a questioning look. I don’t even know how to play chess. “You do know that we’re not really?—”
“You are, though,” he tells me. “You are.”
I laugh, leaving my brother to his delusions. When I make it to the first floor, the lights are on in the kitchen and I half expect to see Ollie at the counter making a three-layer cake, because that’s just something he’d do at one a.m. Instead, I find Viv.
And she’s naked.
Okay, she’s not totally naked, and I’m not really one to talk, but she’s wearing a frilly, see-through little cami and a matching thong.
There’s probably more material in the pot holder that hangs on a hook by the stove, but I’m not judging, I swear.
I just don’t know what Maggie’s best friend is doing in her underwear in the kitchen of the hockey house in the middle of the night.
She startles when she notices me, almost spilling the milk as she pours it into two large bowls of cereal—and not just any cereal. It’s Frosted Cinnamon Crunchies, my brother’s favorite food of all time.
“Hey Viv, sorry to scare you. I didn’t think anyone else would be down here. I just came to get a glass of water.”
“Birdie,” she squeals, genuinely excited to see me. “Mickey and I are having a sleepover.”
I do a shitty job of hiding my surprise. I’m not sure if my eyes are bugging out or my jaw is on the floor, but I’m definitely not playing it cool.
“Oh, not that kind of sleepover,” she says with a wave. “We’re just friends. Like, the best of friends, but just friends. We're watching this serial killer documentary, so we're eating cereal. Get it? Want to join us? You should totally join us.”
Her mind moves as fast as my brother’s, so it takes me a second to catch up.
“No, thanks, I'm good,” I say because I’ve obviously entered some alternate universe and I can’t imagine anything weirder than hanging out with my brother and Viv while they wear just their underwear, consume a week’s worth of sugar, and watch a documentary about murder. That’s a definite no.
Viv looks crestfallen, though, and I immediately feel bad. “I’d love to hang with you two,” I assure her, “but if I watch a show about serial killers, I'll never get to sleep.”
She nods, buying the fib I’m selling. “I get that, but if you change your mind, you know where to find us.”
There’s no way I’ll be changing my mind, but I might just be up half the night wondering what’s going on between those two.