Chapter 16 #2
He grins. “Been spending a lot of time at the gym lately.”
“Yeah, you are. Bet the girls are all over you,” Flip says.
“Sorta, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Can we take a couple of pics for my socials?”
“For sure.”
We flank Brody while he takes selfies.
“You’re gonna be eighteen soon, right?” Flip asks while Brody posts a photo.
He sets his phone on the bench. “Yeah. Thanksgiving weekend.”
“Next year we’ll take you to the bar to celebrate, show you a real good time.” Flip winks.
Brody looks to me like he’s unsure.
“Your version of a real good time won’t win any points with our dad,” I say. “But we can definitely take Brody out for dinner and feed him too many beers.”
“There’s always booze at hockey parties. It’s not like I’ve never been drunk before,” Brody gripes.
I’m not surprised. I was drinking at parties at his age, but I worry about what he’s getting himself into.
The kids show up. I brought my Polaroid so we can autograph pictures and add them to the swag bags.
We spend the next two hours on the ice. It’s great to see Brody with these kids. He’s a natural, and they adore him. And he’s a skilled teacher. Flip is good at encouraging the kids and giving Brody pointers on how to help them.
Halfway through, a few girls show up to watch.
“Looks like you got some fans.” Flip tips his head to the group sitting on the bench.
They look like they’re ready for the club, not watching hockey. And they’re a bit of a distraction for the kids on the ice.
Brody mutters an expletive under his breath but spins it into fudge . He gives them a tight-lipped smile and waves but refocuses his attention on the kids. It’s good to see he’s got his priorities straight. For now.
At the end of our practice, we pass out the swag bags and take a team photo before we hit the locker room.
Brody is hickey free this time, but when we pass through the lobby, the girls are waiting around for him.
A dark-haired girl breaks rank and rushes over to throw her arms around his neck.
He gives her his cheek when she tries to kiss him.
A girl with strawberry-blonde hair stares uncomfortably at her feet. She’s wearing a hoodie with the name of Brody’s high school on it.
Brody introduces us, and it isn’t until after we sign a few napkins and give them leftover swag that Lana, the girl who’s all over my brother, asks if he’s going to the party this weekend. He’s noncommittal about it, saying he has games and homework, but maybe if he can swing it.
“Got yourself some real fangirls, eh?” Flip says once the girls leave.
Brody stuffs his hands in his pockets. “The one who was all over me is that girl I told you about.”
“The pushy one?” I ask.
He nods. “And Enid, the redhead, is the one I like. Liked. It’s just awkward, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.”
I clap him on the shoulder. I wish I had some advice, but my relationship history isn’t great.
Realistically, if he’s drafted, he’ll end up playing for a university team before he gets called up.
The attention he gets now will only compound.
But I don’t tell him that. “I’m sorry, Brody.
It’s a shitty position to be in for sure.
” I invite him out for a bite to eat, hoping I can get him to open up more about the situation.
But he has a school project, so I drive him to his friend’s house instead.
“He’s a good kid, eh?” Flip observes as Brody waves goodbye.
“Yeah, he is.” I’m worried about that girl who won’t back off. He doesn’t seem comfortable with her, and she seems clueless about it. “I don’t think he’s ready for what it’ll be like if he makes the pros.”
“He’s solid on the ice,” Flip observes. “A few years playing university level and he’ll be ready for the pros.”
I’m about to tell him that’s not what I meant, but I decide to leave it alone.
Flip doesn’t mind the attention. And for a while, I was right there with him.
But now I see what Hemi meant about consequences, and not just with my brother, but with Bea, too.
That Stacey situation was shitty. I hated everything about it.
And then there was Essie’s visit. I know Bea needs time with her, but it made me hyperaware of how much I wish I could touch her just to touch.
It’s too risky with Flip around, though.
After practice, Flip and some of the guys suggest going out for dinner, but I tell them I have plans to meet my dad.
What I actually do is drive across town and get everything ready for my night with Bea before I pick her up from work. When she comes out of her office building, she’s wearing sunglasses even though it’s overcast, and she rushes to the car, throwing herself inside and sliding down.
“What are you doing?”
“Being incognito. You drive an expensive, flashy car.”
“It’s not that flashy or expensive.” Not compared to the cars my teammates drive. Although next to Flip’s ride, my Mercedes is pretty sweet.
“You should go.” She motions to the windshield.
I slide a hand under her hair and curve my palm around the back of her neck. “Come here.”
“What?”
I lean in and tug her toward me, but she resists. “I want your lips.”
“What if people see us?”
“The windows are tinted. Come here, Bea.” I caress her cheek with my thumb.
She relents, and I claim her lips. I curve my other hand around the front of her throat, and she moans.
“I would finger-fuck you right here if there wasn’t a police car parked across the street,” I say against her lips.
She wrenches her mouth free. “What? Where?”
“Maybe I should anyway.” I drop my hand to her thigh and bite the edge of her jaw.
“Fuck that. I don’t want an indecent-exposure charge.”
“I’m kidding, Bea. There’s no police. But I wouldn’t mind fucking you in my car sometime.” Then it would smell like her, and I’d have that memory until I traded in my car. Or maybe I’d keep it forever.
“That would probably be tragically awkward.” She fastens her seat belt.
“You’re bendy. We’d make it work.” I adjust my hard-on and signal into traffic.
“What’s the plan? Are we going to a hotel so we can order room service and fuck like bunnies?”
“That’s later. I have something else planned first.” Do I want to be inside her? Absolutely. But I want this time with her more.
“I’m still in my work clothes, though. And we can’t go out in public.
You’re way too recognizable, and people would take pictures.
Then Flip would find out. We can’t have sex if he kills you, or me, or both of us.
Besides, I haven’t found an apartment yet—not that I would need it if Flip killed me. ”
I push down the guilt over the lies we’re telling, and the uncomfortable feeling that comes with having to hide what’s going on.
“Don’t worry. We’re not going out in public, and the place we’re staying is private, so you don’t have to worry about Flip.
” A few times over the past week I’ve considered what would happen if I told Flip.
He’d be pissed off at first, but eventually he’d get over it. Wouldn’t he?
But I don’t want to put that on Bea, or strain their relationship.
Not with her parents hours away and her best friend in Vancouver.
Besides, I don’t have a great track record with actual relationships, and I can’t imagine she’d want more from me than fun between the sheets and maybe the occasional secret date night. Hopefully she wants that.
She seems to relax a little. “So where exactly are we going before we get our fuck on?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“A surprise?” She shifts in her seat, angling her body toward me, eyes lit up with excitement. “Can I guess?”
“If you want.” I like this. Making her happy feels good.
She taps her lips as we drive across town. That I pulled this off is a damn miracle.
“Are you taking me to an escape room?”
“No. Not an escape room.”
“Drive-in movie?”
I snort.
She bites the end of her finger. “So, it’s not in public, and it’s not an escape room or a movie. What about a virtual experience? Like a virtual sex show or something.”
“I don’t know if those things exist, and even if they do, we could just get those VR headsets and watch it in the privacy of a hotel room,” I point out.
She keeps lobbing ridiculous ideas at me, and I keep knocking them down until we arrive at the restaurant.
It’s cozy, with only twelve tables, but they have the most amazing dining experience and a chef who’s also a certified dietician.
She’s worked for some of the best hockey players out there.
She retired a few years ago and opened this place.
It’s by reservation only. I park in the back and get out of the car, rounding the hood in time to open Bea’s door.
“Are we playing underground poker or something?”
“Nope. You’re out of guesses. Come on.” I extend my hand.
She stares at it for a few seconds before she finally takes it. I lead her down the stairs.
“Please tell me you’re not taking me to some secret underground sex club,” she says when I knock on the door.
I snort. “No one touches you but me.”
“And Essie. She’s my cuddle friend.”
I make a noise in the back of my throat. Can’t say I was sorry to see Essie go.
The door opens, and Eliza Van Horn smiles widely. “Right on time, Tristan. Come on in.” She ushers us inside and turns her bright smile on Bea. “And this must be Beatrix. I’ve heard such lovely things about you.”
Bea’s gaze shifts to me and back to Eliza. “Really?” She extends her hand. “That’s, uh… It’s nice to meet you. I go by Rix mostly.” She side-eyes me. “Or sometimes Bea.”
Eliza introduces herself, and I see the moment it clicks for Bea. Her head whips my way. “Is this for real?”
I nod and tuck my hands in my pockets as she turns back to Eliza. “You were the lead nutritional consultant for professional hockey players in Ontario. I’ve read two of your books. I love your recipes.”
“I hear you’re quite talented in the kitchen.” She motions for us to follow her through the restaurant.