14. Gabe
14 /
gabe
Brody’s game-winning goal set the team on fire. Beating Toronto was no small feat because our rivalry with the Beavers ran deep. Until Harpy joined us last year, the Beavs had owned us for over a decade. But tonight, just when it looked like Toronto might edge us out, Brody came through like a knight in shining armor, snatching victory from their jaws and electrifying our bench.
After the post-game presser and quick showers, the locker room was buzzing. Tomorrow morning, we’d fly to Montreal, but tonight was about celebrating our win. Logan and Holky had everyone ready to hit the town for drinks.
The Warrior Hat, our team’s coveted symbol of outstanding play, had been awarded to Brody, and he wore it like he was still getting used to the weight. While the rest of the guys headed out, he hovered at his stall, so I headed over and draped an arm around his shoulders. “Ready?”
“I don’t know.” He gave me a strangely pleading look. “I thought I might go back to the hotel.”
“Fuck that. The guy wearing the Warrior Hat doesn’t get to skip, and you’re not buying a single drink tonight.”
The hat—a medieval-style helmet decked out with swords, shields, and the Buffalo Warriors logo painted boldly on the front—was our crown of honor. The captains and last game’s winner always decided who earned it, and tonight, Brody’s clutch shot made the choice unanimous.
Holky walked over and tapped on the helmet. “You’re tonight’s hero, Tanny. We’re not taking no for an answer.”
Brody shifted on his feet like he wasn’t sure how to respond to the nickname or the praise. I nudged him gently. “Come on, you’ve got to celebrate this one. An OT game-winner’s always special.”
We locked eyes for a second before he smiled. “Okay. You talked me into it.”
“Good call.” I was already dressed, but I waited while Brody knotted his tie and slipped on his suit jacket. Holky and Paquette had left to grab a table at our usual bar, and I took a moment to order an Uber. Harpy joined us for the ride, sliding into the back seat with an easy grin. Brody stayed quiet for most of the drive, fidgeting with his hand. But every so often, he’d glance my way and smile. I was glad he wasn’t regretting his decision.
As we pulled up, the warm glow of light and the hum of hundreds of voices spilling out of the bar promised a lively night ahead. Brody climbed out of the car and let out a long sigh, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. If there was ever a reluctant hero, it was him—a man who’d rather keep his head down but had ended up in the spotlight.
Despite the place being packed, the boys had somehow commandeered three tables and lined them up in one long stretch. The seating was tight, but that was us—close on and off the ice. With a flourish that drew a round of laughs, I pulled out a chair for Brody and helped him scoot in. The only remaining open seat was several guys away, so I patted Brody’s shoulder and grinned. “Have fun.”
Before I could take a step, Jax—sitting beside Brody—jumped to his feet. “No way,” he said. He nodded at his chair, grinning. “You should sit with Tanner tonight.”
I hesitated, thrown by the unexpected offer. Brody and I had agreed to keep things under wraps for now, and Jax’s enthusiasm didn’t exactly scream subtlety. “Appreciate it, Jax, but I don’t want to make you move.”
“I insist.” He gave me a meaningful look and tapped the back of the chair. “Sit.”
Reluctantly, I sat down, and my heart did a little dance in my chest. Jax took the seat down the table, leaning back with a satisfied grin like he’d orchestrated a major power play.
As conversation picked up around us, I couldn’t escape the feeling that Jax knew—or at least suspected—what was going on with Brody and me. Honestly, I didn’t care if he did. I’d be proud for the team to know Brody and I were dating, but that was something we should decide together if he was ever ready.
I snuck a glance at him. He was laughing at something Holky said, and the crinkles around his eyes made him more beautiful than I’d already thought he was. He seemed relaxed, and I hoped it would continue.
We’d barely made it to our second round when women started circling. I couldn’t blame them because my teammates were a good-looking bunch, and the unmarried guys immediately warmed to the attention. Holky was the first to hit the dance floor, grinding with a buxom brunette who seemed determined to turn their dance into a sexual adventure. A few others followed Holky’s lead, and soon the dance floor was full. The rest of us were left to nurse our beers and watch the impromptu show.
A shapely redhead came over to talk to Riley, who was sitting on Brody’s other side. Riley, the youngest guy on the team, quickly offered his lap for her to sit on. A couple of minutes later, she whispered something into his ear, and they walked away toward the bathroom. It was mere seconds before a raven-haired beauty slid into Riley’s vacated chair. About Brody’s age, she wasted no time. All whispers and hands, she leaned close and placed her palm lightly on Brody’s arm. Soon, he was laughing at something I couldn’t hear. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t pull away, either. Instead, he shifted in his seat so he could face her, his body language open and—fuck me—inviting.
Though I couldn’t hear their conversation, I recognized the teasing tone of voice he used when he was flirting with me. His low chuckle, which had seemed so beautiful moments ago, now stabbed through my chest like a knife. Acid poured into my stomach while I stared at his back, trying to make sense of what was happening. A parade of questions and fears marched through my mind, each one more unsettling than the last. The change in him was so dramatic, I was convinced it had to mean something big. Did he like her as much as she liked him? Was he attracted to her? He was bi, but had I been wrong to think he was into me now?
He leaned toward her and whispered something, and their burst of laughter had bile rising in my throat. Did he want to fuck her? Was he about to turn around and tell me they were leaving? Or worse, would he disappear for ten minutes and come back reeking of perfume and bathroom stall sweat?
What the hell would I do if he did?
Fuck that. What the hell could I do? We hadn’t made any promises or talked about exclusivity. In fact, we had no labels for whatever this was between us. But surely he wouldn’t pull something like this. He wouldn’t go fuck her, not right here with me sitting a few feet away. He liked me too much for that. Didn’t he?
When I reached for my beer, my hand was trembling so badly I nearly knocked over the bottle. Holding on carefully, I brought it to my lips and took a long, slow drink, hoping it would steady me. But the knot in my stomach refused to relax, and the lump in my throat didn’t budge.
Was my barely-budding romance with Brody—this fragile, hopeful thing that had already become more important to me than I wanted to admit—about to crash and burn right in front of my eyes?
Riley reappeared, strutting like a stud who’d just fucked a woman in a public bathroom. Please don’t let Brody be next . Riley stopped behind Brody’s girl. Fucking fuck me to fucking hell! Surely she wasn’t his girl already. Brody and the girl ignored Riley, who furrowed his brow and scanned the table. His jaw tightened when his gaze landed on me, and without missing a beat, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but this is my seat.”
Her giggles evaporated as her flirty confidence gave way to a pinched glare. She tilted her head, looking up at Riley like she was deciding whether he was worth the trouble. I didn’t catch what they said because Brody turned toward me, and his lips formed a single, unmistakable word: Help.
My heart stalled, and I wondered what the fuck was going on. Help with what? Did he need an excuse to get rid of her or an all-clear from me? I turned my head to the side and raised an eyebrow, but his gaze remained locked on mine.
“Brody?” Her voice cut into our moment, and I wished she would just disappear.
His shoulders stiffened, and he sighed—an audible, God-help-me sigh—and turned back to her. “Yeah?”
“This guy is making me move so he can have his seat back.” Her pout was expertly calibrated—half wounded, half seductive. “You coming?”
The world stopped. I held my breath as Brody shifted in his seat, and I braced for his answer.
He shook his head. “I’ll stay with my friends. It was nice meeting you, though. Thanks for saying hi.”
Her eyes widened, but she rallied, straightening her spine before tossing her hair back over one shoulder and walking away. Riley dropped into his seat and shot me a conspiratorial grin.
Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived. Brody glanced my way, his expression unreadable, and I still had no idea what had just happened. Had he been caught off guard by her attention or tempted by it? Was he relieved she’d gone, or did he regret not leaving with her? And why the hell had he needed help?
I didn’t know if I was overreacting or if I’d seen something real, but one thing was certain: I would get to the bottom of it before the night was over.