Epilogue December
Nick dodged the incoming check, biting back his fury that the other team was trying to check him in a no-contact league. He could give them the finger later or say something snide in the handshake line, but he was not wasting his time on them now.
It took a moment to regain his balance, and it was his forward momentum that kept him within reach of the puck.
There was only one more defender to beat, which made that the easy part.
He couldn’t count how many times he and Brady had worked on one-on-ones, and this guy didn’t hold a candle to how well Brady played, so it didn’t take much to deke around him.
It was almost too easy, and it boosted Nick’s confidence enough that he decided to go backhand on the goalie instead of making a more conservative play.
It hit the back of the net, though, so maybe his instincts knew something he didn’t.
There was the usual uproar from the bench, and Nick slammed into the boards Ovechkin-style (a little disappointed he couldn’t rattle them as much as the Russian Machine did) and beckoned for his linemates.
Young Greg slammed into him first, whooping loudly and celebrating as if it were his own goal. Then came GG and Lexi, whose shouts were equally boisterous though directed more toward the goalie and other team than they were toward supporting Nick.
After the louder celebrations had ended, it was Brady’s turn.
He skated up and wrapped Nick in a bear hug, shaking him and planting a kiss on his cheek.
It’d been no small thing for Brady to start showing Nick affection in front of the team, but when it became apparent that the Jagr Bombs gave exactly zero shits about it, it’d become commonplace.
“Fucking sick moves out there,” Brady praised.
“That’s why I love you, scoring top shelf like it’s easy,” and with that, he pushed Nick away and skated to center ice for the next drop.
As if he hadn’t just admitted he loved Nick for the first fucking time in their relationship.
It was a good thing he scored that goal, because Nick played like shit the rest of the game.
He was always a half-second behind, his body and his brain not on the same page.
He jumped too early on every faceoff, was too late on every pass, aimed high and wide of the net, and avoided Brady’s befuddled expression whenever they crossed paths.
And inside, Nick’s mind was racing.
How could Brady not notice he’d said that?
Did he mean it? He must have meant it; Brady wasn’t free with his words like that.
It’d slipped out so easily, like he’d been thinking it for a while, like it was common knowledge and not some momentous shift in their relationship.
Nick had been holding back how hopelessly in love he was.
They were doing well despite their rocky start, and he was relatively secure in how they felt about each other, but the “L” word was a big deal.
He hadn’t wanted to spook Brady, not when he’d only recently settled into dating a guy.
And it turned out he’d been worried for nothing. It was Brady who got the honor of saying he was in love first, and Nick was the one having a minor internal meltdown over it.
How the tables had turned. He was sure Jenna and Lucy would get a kick out of it later when they found out. Gail, too, when she and Terry got back from their couple’s weekend together.
You know, Nick thought as he completely tuned out GG and Young Greg’s argument on the bench, this might actually be better.
Nick had avoided bringing up his work holiday party for a while because they were still only unofficially public knowledge.
The team knew—not that anyone said they knew, but it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out with the way they acted around each other—and their small circle of close family and friends knew.
That wasn’t the same as bringing him as a date to a large corporate party; even if they didn’t say they were an item, it would be assumed.
But if Brady loved him, then maybe he wouldn’t mind those assumptions.
Grin wide, Nick went into the locker room happier than he should be after playing most of the game on autopilot.
“You played like garbage,” Brady told him when they were on the bench together. He looked mildly concerned, as if certain Nick must be sick or injured or going through some other crisis that would result in such bad play.
“I got that goal,” Nick pointed out.
“Which is why I’m confused about how you couldn’t even catch a pass to save your life after that. Use all your mojo on one play?”
“If I scored, isn’t it worth it?”
Brady shrugged skeptically.
“So…” Nick said, knowing he was pulling a severe 180 on their conversation. “I’ve got a plus one for a work thing at the harbor—”
“Which one?”
Nick blinked, then smiled. “Look at you, knowing there’s more than one. National Harbor, actually. You wanna…?” He let the offer hang between them.
“Who do you normally go with?” Brady asked.
“No one.” He had brought Jenna his first year working and Terry his second, but that had confused all his coworkers and made the effort not worthwhile.
It’d been years since he’d gone with anyone.
And since this was maybe his last holiday party at this job…
well, it seemed like a big deal to Nick, and he wanted to share that big deal with someone who got how big a deal it was.
“So you’re asking me to your work holiday party… like on a date?” Brady clarified. He hadn’t run for the hills yet and had even said the word “date” out loud in the locker room. Good start.
“I guess?”
Brady ran his hands through his hair as he considered. He put on his hat, rubbed his hands together, then turned to Nick. “Yeah, okay.”
“Really?” Nick beamed. “You know this means people will think we’re dating. You okay with that?”
Brady snorted and got back to changing out of his gear. “Yeah, I think I can handle people thinking I’m dating my boyfriend.”
Nick’s heart lurched. He didn’t comment, but internally he was shouting with joy. This would be so much fun. They’d go out on a fancy date with suits, and maybe he’d get a flower for Brady’s lapel, and they could coordinate tie colors and pocket squares.
Basically Brady would regret ever agreeing, and Nick kind of looked forward to that.
Since he was already doing so well, he decided he’d push a little more. “You know, it’s my birthday next week, right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Brady grumped. “I’ll get you your stupid cupcakes.”
It was adorable that Brady remembered that, especially since Nick had been half-kidding at the time. “Good. I would hate for someone who loves me to forget my long list of birthday demands.”
“I didn’t forget—” Brady stopped short, arms in mid-air where they’d been taking off his elbow pads.
His head quirked to the side as he processed the rest of what Nick had said, a frown making it obvious that he was running through every interaction they’d had recently. “On the ice, did I really say…?”
“You did.”
“Oh.”
“You mean it?” Nick asked, voice low so it wouldn’t be too easy for the rest of the team to hear.
“Yeah, actually. Huh.”
Nick smacked his leg. “Well don’t look so surprised!”
“What? No, it’s not that, it’s just… Ugh, now I have to tell my parents.”
“That you’re dating a guy?”
“Nah, told them when I went up for Thanksgiving. They were fake-surprised but supportive. Pretty sure Lucy’d already told them, but whatever.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I gotta tell them I’m in love with a Caps fan. How am I supposed to live that shit down? They’re gonna make us go to a game together. It’ll be a disaster.”
Nick burst out laughing and then pulled Brady, still attempting to get his elbow pads off, into a huge hug. “I’m going to have sooo much fun going on road trips up to Pittsburgh to watch Caps games there. Your family will love me.”
“…you’re going to wear your Ovechkin jersey, aren’t you?”
“I am willing to buy a Wilson jersey if you think that would go over bet— Ow! Stop, I don’t have my pads on anymore! Stop poking me! Stop it!”
Brady pulled him in so they were chest to chest. Nick’s cheeks heated up; he was well aware that they were still in a crowded locker room with people who only kinda maybe sort of knew they were a thing. “I love you,” Brady said with a small hitch in his voice. “I said it. I mean it. Do you…?”
Nick’s eyes went wide. Had he not—? Sure, it was obvious, but had he missed saying it?
“I love you,” he blurted out. It was practically a shout in the small room.
He could feel eyes watching them, ears perked toward them, but he ignored them because this was an important moment between him and Brady, damn it.
Albeit, an awkwardly public one. “I really, really love you.”
“Mmm, locker-room confessions. How romantic.”
“Says the guy who loves me second to hockey. This is, like, the place for a love confession to Brady Derek Jensen. I could not have planned this better myself.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not second to anybody.”
Nick’s ears rung. He was hallucinating. He must be. “You love me more than hockey?” Then, in an almost manic voice, “More than Jagr!?”
“How have you made your love confession to me all about you?”
“Right, right, sorry.” A pause. “But if me and Jagr were both trapped in a burning ice rink and you could only save one of us—”
Brady finally shut him up with a kiss. “You’re such a fucking dork,” Brady said, “and I love you. More than hockey. More than Jagr. Now please let us get dressed so we can go home and celebrate it.”
That sparked something in him, a happiness that he hoped would never ebb, not if he got a chance to love Brady for the rest of his life. “I think we can do that.” He kissed Brady, savoring the salty taste of him.
“Bros, I’m sorry,” Young Greg said tentatively. He looked like he really didn’t know if he was allowed to speak, his eyes drifting to Brady before staring at a space between them. “Are y’all, like, finally—?”
“We’re dating,” Brady said smoothly. He pushed Nick, who was practically in his lap at this point, aside and casually went back to his gear. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah, totally,” Nick agreed. He’d never smiled so wide for so long in his life. “Not a big deal.”
“I KNEW it. Fucking yes. I told you guys!” Young Greg high-fived himself.
“I never disagreed with you,” GG protested. “I just said you shouldn’t assume—”
The team chatter dissolved into incoherent arguments. “Jensie something something,” “Nicki blah blah blah.” It didn’t matter. What mattered was Brady’s shy smile, Nick’s incandescent mood, and the fact that they loved each other.
“Romeo and Juliet story right here,” he teased Brady as they packed up his Jeep. “Caps fan and Pens fan falling in love.”
Brady rolled his eyes. “I am not Juliet in this scenario, let’s be clear.”
“I’ll be Juliet, I got no problems with that. Oh Brady, Brady, wherefore art thou from Pittsburgh? Refuse thy hometown and deny thy team—”
“—or you’ll no longer be a Caps fan?” Brady countered.
“…I don’t think that’s how the line goes.”
“Uh huh.” Brady pushed him against the car, trapping him. “Let’s go home, yeah?”
Home sounded wonderful.