Chapter 30
TAYLOR
We pulled into Ethan and Bell’s driveway just after noon with a case of wine Sebastian had specially selected for the occasion.
Bell answered the door before I could knock, wearing an apron with an eggplant stitched on its front.
“Real subtle,” I snarked as he stepped aside to welcome us inside.
He looped one arm around Sebastian's shoulders and the other around mine, leading us toward the kitchen.
"Be nice, or I'll tell Sebastian how you were sweating bullets on the plane back from Nashville," he said under his breath, then dropped his voice to mimic mine.
“My best friend is coming with me to Thanksgiving. He's super into wine. He’s going to go shopping for us. What does everyone like?”
“Shut up,” I said, knocking against him and feeling my face turn red. “It wasn't like that.”
“Close enough,” he sing-songed, breaking away before I could punch him.
“Cute,” Sebastian whispered just before we reached the kitchen, where Ethan was standing at the stove, four pots going at once.
His sister Rachel, whom I’d met that first Thanksgiving Bell and I had played for the Marauders, was standing at the large center island chopping onions, while his brother Ryan chomped on a roll, watching a wall-mounted television that was showing a football game.
Rachel looked up and smiled. She had Ethan’s dark eyes, but none of his stoic reserve. “Hey, Taylor. It’s been forever.”
“Hi, Rach,” I greeted, leaning in for a quick hug.
“Hey, T,” Ryan said, lifting his hand in an absent-minded wave, never pulling his eyes from the game. “Long time no see.”
Ryan ran a youth hockey camp that I’d volunteered at a couple of times. He was a good guy, loud and affable—the direct opposite of his brother.
I turned, gesturing behind me to where Sebastian was setting the wine on the counter. “That’s Sebastian, my college roommate. He’s in town working on the Bancroft campaign.”
“Oh, interesting.” Rachel wiped her hands on a dish towel and shook Sebastian’s hand. “How’s that going?”
“Could be better; could be worse,” he answered vaguely, which made her laugh.
“Say no more.”
Ethan nodded at Sebastian in a way that, from him, constituted a warm welcome as Bell pulled the bottles out of the box one by one and lined them up on the counter.
He paused on one that featured a drawing of a stately chateau and a very French name rendered in old-fashioned script. “Oh, I like this one.”
“The lady at the shop said it pairs well with turkey, so I grabbed three.”
“Nice.” Bell nodded approvingly and continued unloading the wine.
Just then, Ryan's son Will came around the corner. Like Ethan and Bell before him, he played hockey at Thackeray College. He'd been drafted in the first round by the San Diego Riptide, but had decided to stay in school to get his degree. He was linking up with the team in May after graduation.
“Hey, Uncle E. Do you want me to set up the folding tables now or—” He stopped mid-stride, his eyes flicking between Sebastian and me as if noticing us for the first time. It might have been my imagination, but I swore I saw him stand up a little straighter. “Hello.”
“Hey, Will,” I said in greeting, though he barely paid me any attention, stepping forward to extend his hand Sebastian's way. “I’m Will.”
“Sebastian. Nice to meet you, Will.”
“I’ve never seen you at one of these things before,” he said, his eyes making a quick, appreciative sweep over my boyfriend that he even didn’t bother to hide. “I definitely would have remembered.”
Will was also the biggest fucking flirt I'd ever met, which was saying something given who his uncle was married to.
Sebastian chuckled, and Ethan cleared his throat. “Tables, Will.”
“Right,” he said, his gaze lingering on Sebastian again for a beat too long. Then he said, “We’ll talk later,” and sauntered away, turning his head to catch one last look at Sebastian before he disappeared around the corner again.
Rachel set down her knife and started cackling. Wiping at her eyes, she turned to Bell. “You created a monster.”
He held up his hands, palms facing out. “Don’t look at me. All I ever did was tell him that being bi was nothing to be ashamed of. I guarantee I never said anything about ogling every handsome older man that crosses his path.”
Ethan turned to face his husband, his mouth tilting up. “I seem to recall someone who ogled the hell out of older men.”
Bell planted a quick kiss on his lips. “And you ogled right back.”
“Hell yeah, I did.” Ethan wrapped an arm around Bell’s waist and pulled him in for another quick kiss.
I didn't think I'd ever get over seeing grumpy curmudgeon Ethan Harrison acting this soft.
Will reappeared a few minutes later, making a beeline for the bar where Sebastian was busy opening up bottles of wine to breathe, and striking up what looked like a very engaging conversation.
After a few minutes, Sebastian glanced up, caught my eye, and winked before tuning back in to whatever Will was saying.
The house filled up over the next hour with a couple of Ethan's colleagues from Thackeray, a few of his players who weren't from around here, and several of our teammates.
Dmitry Petrov had brought his younger brother, a man who seemed to know even less English than Dmitry did.
Monroe also showed up with a woman who may or may not have been his girlfriend.
He was incredibly vague whenever anyone tried to pin him down.
A few of the rookies were taking turns “sneaking” beers out of the fridge in the garage, genuinely seeming to believe that they were a lot slicker than they really were.
Marc Lavoie and his wife, Gabi, had brought along one of her friends, a woman named Maggie, who—like Will—was clearly besotted with Sebastian.
He was gracious about her attention in the same way he was gracious about everything—warm, attentive, and interested in what she had to say—and I’d spent the past twenty minutes pretending I wasn’t watching their interaction.
Bell materialized at my elbow, following my line of sight to where Sebastian was laughing at something she'd just said. “You might want to dial that back about forty percent,” he said conversationally, “unless you want someone asking why you’re staring at your college roommate like you want to drag him home and have your way with him.”
“I’m not.”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
Across the room, Will had joined their conversation, his body angled toward Sebastian in a way that left zero ambiguity about his intentions. Sebastian was nodding politely at both of them, his expression warm and open.
I felt my lips dipping down into a scowl.
Bell chuckled and said, “To be fair to Will, your boyfriend is very handsome.”
“Yeah, but like ... he's laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?”
"For Will, that's subtle." He chuckled again and squeezed my shoulder before strolling away to talk to Monroe.
I got pulled into a conversation then with one of Ethan’s players about the Marauders’ chances of making the playoffs this year—precisely zero—and by the time I managed to extract myself, I’d lost track of Sebastian.
I finally spotted him near the back door, Will standing beside him once again. Sebastian said something that made Will laugh, and he reached out to touch Sebastian's forearm. Sebastian smiled and gently eased out of his grip.
I was about to go rescue him when Lavoie appeared at my side, steering me toward the corner.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low as he glanced across the room to where Maggie was attempting a conversation with Petrov and his brother, her hands moving animatedly. “What’s the deal with your friend?”
My stomach dropped straight through the floor.
Shit. Bell had been right. I’d been way too obvious about my feelings for Sebastian.
“What do you mean?” I asked, trying my damnedest to keep my voice even.
He jerked his chin to indicate the makeshift game of charades going on across the room. “Maggie’s, like, super into him and wants to know if she has a shot.”
I let out a breath that I disguised as clearing my throat. “Uh …” I began, trying to come up with an answer.
“Have a shot at what?” Sebastian asked, suddenly appearing at my side, a fresh glass of wine in hand, his eyes moving between my teammate and me with polite curiosity.
Lavoie looked at the ceiling briefly, like he was asking God for patience, then dropped his head back down to address Sebastian. “Okay, look. Maggie likes you and wants to know if you’re dating anyone. My wife made me ask. I’m just the messenger.”
Sebastian glanced across the room, then back at Lavoie, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “You can tell Maggie that my boyfriend and I are very happy together.”
My head swung his way before I could catch myself, my mouth dropping open. Sebastian looked at me for just a fraction of a second, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he lifted his wine glass to his mouth.
What the fuck was happening?
How was Sebastian standing there completely composed, like he’d just commented on the weather and not … this?
His eyes flicked to me again, and he shook his head—just one quick jerk. I snapped my mouth shut and turned back to Lavoie, hoping to hell my face didn’t give me away.
Lavoie simply chuckled and popped a grape into his mouth. “Okay, definitely not interested then.”
Sebastian smiled warmly. “Sorry, but no.”
Lavoie turned to me. “Hey, you see the highlights from the Liberty game? That overtime goal was something else."
“Insane,” I said, though I hadn’t watched and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
The second I’d stepped through the door last night, Sebastian had been there waiting for me. We’d stayed up late, but hockey was the last thing on either of our minds.
“Right?” He said, adding a few more slices of cheese to his plate. “Anyway. I’ll let Maggie know you’re with someone,” he said, wandering back across the room.
Sebastian watched Lavoie go, then he looked at me.
I looked back at him.