Chapter 8
TRAVIS
“Happy Birthday!” Across the table, D-Low raises his glass.
Shep does the same with a dip of his chin. “Happy Birthday, man.”
“Thanks.” I lift my drink toward them and then take a sip of my bourbon. It’s an expensive drink kind of night. “I appreciate you guys coming.”
“It’s tradition,” D-Low says with a shrug of one shoulder.
“I know it isn’t easy to get away and that you could have used the weekend off to see family or relax.”
“What the hell are you yapping about? I look forward to this trip every year.” His gaze lifts above my head.
We’re sitting in the middle of a busy bar and the people-watching is fantastic. Hot people everywhere, drinking and laughing and looking to have a good time. For some reason, I can’t seem to summon my usual excitement for it. Fuck, what a boring old man I’m becoming.
He smiles at a group of women that strut past us even turning his head to keep on staring. D-Low doesn’t seem to be having any such problem enjoying himself.
A small laugh slips from my lips. “I love how you say that like we’ve been doing it for a decade.”
This is only the second year, so even calling it a tradition is a bit of a stretch.
When he finally pulls his stare away from the hot women parade and glances back to me, he’s grinning. “It’s a yearly thing that I hope we continue until I’m an old, married man.”
“Why old?” Shep asks.
“I can’t imagine getting married until at least thirty-five.”
Shep’s body moves with a quiet chuckle. “I don’t think most people would consider thirty-five old.”
“In hockey years it is,” D-Low insists.
He isn’t wrong. By mid to late thirties, most guys are slowing down and thinking about a second career.
“What about you?” Shep asks me.
“I’m game to come until D-Low has a ball and chain that won’t let him out of the house.” Even not being super into the scene this year, it’s better than sitting around waiting to see if either of my parents remember they have a son and it’s his birthday. Spoiler alert: They never do.
“Nah, I meant, where do you see yourself in the next ten years? Marriage? Kids?” Shep asks. He’s a quiet, shy dude, but when he gets in conversation with people he’s comfortable with, he has this ability to ask a simple question that ends in us questioning life and purpose.
“I don’t think marriage is in the cards for me,” I say and then immediately wish I hadn’t. It feels like too vulnerable of a thing to admit while being this sober. So, I do what I always do, paste on a smile and add, “At least not until I’m really old like thirty-five.”
“And kids?” D-Low asks.
“Kids are cool.” I love spending time with Nick’s son, Aidan, but being responsible for another human sounds terrifying. Unfortunately, I know how much parents can fuck up a kid.
“For sure.” Shep nods. “I want a dozen of them.”
“Really?” D-Low and I ask in unison.
Our buddy’s cheeks take on a slight blush under the dim bar lighting. “Yeah. My best friend growing up had this big family with five siblings and I loved going over and being in the chaos.”
He’s an only child like me, so I get that. Maybe if I had a brother or sister, I wouldn’t have been so lonely before I found hockey. Or, damn, maybe I wouldn’t have found hockey at all. It’s wild to think about how one decision impacts so many others.
If my parents had taken any interest in me at all, maybe I wouldn’t have found hockey. And then I wouldn’t have this career or life, or these friends.
“And you?” I turn the question back to D-Low. “Will you and the wife be having a whole brood of children too?”
He pauses with his glass up to his mouth and his lips curl with mischief.
“Nah, maybe just a couple dogs. That way we can travel. In fact, I amend my earlier comment. We don’t need to stop coming after I’m married.
I’ll tell the wife I’m going to Vegas with the guys. Friends are important at any age.”
I nod my agreement.
“Actually, that won’t work,” he says.
“No?”
I’m amused by his picturing our future so vividly.
“I mean, we can still come after I find a wife, but she’ll insist on coming with me because she won’t want to keep her hands off me for that long.”
“Well that definitely tracks for you.” I let out another soft laugh. D-Low loves an audience—on the ice and everywhere else.
“You and your wife are going to get arrested for public indecency,” Shep tells him.
“Probably,” he agrees, but he’s still smiling.
After another round of drinks, we decide to hit up a different hotel with a bar downstairs and a rooftop nightclub that’s our final destination.
At the bar, D-Low immediately finds a woman that catches his eye.
She’s beautiful. Dark hair and eyes that are highlighted by a gold dress and big, matching earrings.
She has that confident, hot girl vibe about her that Danny loves (probably because he’s imagining making out with her in front of everyone later).
She has two equally attractive friends—a curvy blond with a friendly smile and a brunette with huge eyes that appears more timid but is every bit as pretty as the other two.
It’s basically every trio of guys’ dream scenario.
I can tell by the way Shep is avoiding the petite brunette that she’s the one he’s interested in, so I take the blond. Her name is Lola and within thirty seconds I already know I won’t be asking her to come back with me later.
But I assume it’s whatever weird mood I’m in and try to get to know her anyway. It’s too loud for a big group conversation so we’re paired off. Shep and his girl are mostly glancing around instead of at each other, but it’s hard to be a good wingman in this environment.
Lola is nice and fun. She has a great smile and lights up when she tells me about her work as an equine therapist. When she finds out we’re in town to celebrate my birthday, she insists on buying me a drink. We toast and toss back a couple shots before D-Low and Shep and Lola’s friends join us.
I’m not disappointed in the least when, not long after, the girls announce that they have tickets for a different nightclub and we part ways.
Five seconds later, D-Low has found another group of women and wants to approach.
“Eh…I’m not feeling it.” I hold back a sigh. Old age is hitting me harder than I expected.
“All right, what about that group over there?” He motions with a tip of his head to a larger group that looks to be celebrating a birthday too.
When I don’t enthusiastically agree, he looks downright forlorn. “What the hell is wrong with you? You haven’t seemed interested in talking to any of the very beautiful women here. You didn’t even take the hot server’s number at dinner.”
“She was wearing an engagement ring.”
“So what? You’re not marrying her,” he says then laughs when I give him the ‘So not cool, bro’ face.
“Okay but you’ve barely looked at anyone all night. Even the ones without rings,” he says.
“I’m just not feeling it.”
“He’s in love, remember?” Shep asks D-Low with a hint of a smirk on his face.
D-Low has a nice laugh at my expense and Shep joins in.
I roll my eyes. “Laugh all you want, but you haven’t seen her. Hannah is stunning. She’s the hottest woman I’ve ever seen.” Except it isn’t even that she’s hot (though she definitely is). “The way she looks is fascinating.”
“The way she looks is fascinating?” D-Low repeats the words back to me slowly and in the form of a question, brows raised in disbelief.
“She has this long, blond hair that is a thousand different shades. Light and dark strands that blend together to create this color that’s so unique.”
I think D-Low mutters, “Oh boy. He’s really down bad,” but I keep going to prove my point.
“And she has these warm brown eyes with little flecks of blue that pop when she’s fired up. And her mouth…” I groan. That mouth has starred in many of my fantasies.
“We get it.” Shep holds a hand up to stop me.
“No, please, keep going,” D-Low adds, eyes lit up with amusement.
I let out a breath that raises and lowers my shoulders. He doesn’t get it, but he hasn’t seen her. “I can’t just pick up some other random girl when I know she exists. It’s like…using dull skates when I know what it’s like to glide across the ice in freshly sharpened ones.”
D-Low’s brows lift again. “I’m pretty sure you just offended an entire population of women.”
“You get my point.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. She’s hot and you’re in love.” He shakes his head, but he’s still smiling. “Well, since none of the women in here meet your standards, should we head upstairs?”
“I’m game for whatever,” Shep says.
“Yeah, same.”
“All right. I’m ready for a change of scenery.
” D-Low is the most excited about tonight of the three of us.
I’m hoping for some of that to transfer my way as we step out of the bar and make our way toward the elevator.
As the door opens, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it out with a strange sense of dread.
It could be a lot of people—any number of my friends texting to wish me a happy birthday or even a spam call, but something tells me it’s my dad, even before I see his name on the screen.
Which is odd considering I haven’t heard from him in three years.
Maybe that’s why I’ve felt off all night long.
D-Low and Shep step into the elevator, but when they notice I haven’t moved, Shep throws out an arm to keep the door from closing.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I need to take this. Meet you guys upstairs?”
“We can wait,” D-Low says.
“No. Go ahead. I won’t be long.”
They still hesitate until I add, “Seriously. Go and snag us a good table and I’ll be there by the time you pop the first bottle.”
“All right, but you better hurry,” D-Low says. Shep removes his hand and the door closes. I wait until the hum of the elevator signals movement and then glance down at my phone.