Chapter Six #2
On the other hand, if that didn’t call for a dick joke. And he didn’t have to make it about Nate. “Well, maybe we’ll get lucky.”
A subtle dick joke. Nate probably wouldn’t even get it.
Maybe he did, though—and maybe he was starting to relax, because he raised a hand to his mouth and stifled a fake-sounding cough.
So he wasn’t made of stone. At least when the cameras weren’t rolling. But before Aubrey could prod him further, Nate dropped his hand, and just like that, he was all business. “We should look over the notes Jess sent. We’ve got points to cover for our interviews.”
Aubrey sighed a long-suffering drawn-out huff. “All work and no play makes Nate a dull boy. But fine. Hit me with it. Who’re the targets this time?”
Nate had stopped trying to avoid Aubrey and focused, at least when they were working.
They finished their show prep in Aubrey’s hotel room, Nate sitting at the small table and taking notes on his tablet, Aubrey on the bed, spitballing as he stared up at the ceiling.
He was in the middle of a breakdown of everything that was wrong with the New York Rangers’ defense when Nate made a surprised noise at the table.
Aubrey looked over. “What, you don’t agree? Wow, I’m so surprised.”
Nate spitted him with a look. “First of all, quality D-men don’t grow on trees. There’s nothing wrong with farming out the labor to Syracuse via trades from Tampa Bay—”
“It’s cute that you think that’s what’s happening.”
“—but actually I was looking at the weather report.” He held up his phone. “Weather system’s delayed. Maybe no snow. Or maybe we’ll get nailed tomorrow morning instead.”
“If only,” Aubrey murmured. “Uh, the Senators flew in today, right? We’re not going to end up with a canceled game?”
“This morning, I think. They’re on their Western Canada road trip.
So we’re good there.” Nate’s face held an actual expression—was that amusement?
The man should let himself smile more. Then again, Aubrey barely had a handle on his professionalism as it was.
Who knew what would happen to his self-restraint if Nate started smiling regularly.
“Although it’s almost too bad. A friend of mine recommended a small-plates restaurant downtown that I’ve been meaning to try out, but they’re closed for a private event tonight. ”
“Oh, Chez Sono?” Aubrey perked up, then deflated again, because damn. He’d have liked to try it too. “My cousin loves that place. Although she’s more into the cocktails.”
Nate lifted an eyebrow.
Aubrey felt judged. “What?”
He lifted the other eyebrow.
Aubrey got it. “Oh, everything’s an innuendo with you. Cocktails. That’s what it takes? You weren’t going to jump on expecting six inches, but cocktails—that gets you?”
Nate lifted one shoulder. “I’m gonna blame low blood sugar. It’s past dinnertime.”
Startled, Aubrey glanced at the bedside clock and found it had ticked over to past eight. Their shooting schedule meant he usually ate early. Nate probably did too. “Huh. Room service?”
For a second he thought Nate was going to agree, and he had a fleeting hot flash of what could happen afterward if he did.
If Nate finally let Aubrey close to him.
If he brushed the chip off his shoulder and just went with the flow.
Aubrey knew they could get along—at the very least outside the bedroom, but maybe in bed too.
Nate would be a demanding lover, he thought, but Aubrey could rise to that challenge. Hell, Aubrey would thrive on it.
And then Aloof Nate slipped back into place, and he shook his head. “Thanks, but I think I’m just going to eat in my room.”
Aubrey fought off a sigh. “Sure,” he said. “Hey, pass me the room service menu on your way out?” If he was going to wallow, he would do it in bed as God intended.
The door clicked softly open. Aubrey made a point not to watch Nate leave.
The snow started coming down halfway through the first period, and Nate’s long experience of winter road trips told him not to count on timely air travel.
By the time he and Aubrey wrapped up the postgame interviews, he had three text messages on his phone. Flight delayed. Flight delayed. Flight canceled.
Nate called the hotel and managed to reserve a king room—apparently the last one available, as the storm had knocked out power and heat in more than one neighborhood and all outbound flights were canceled.
Then, on a whim, he called Chez Sono, but even leveraging his “mildly famous, especially in Canada” name, they didn’t take reservations. Getting a cab seemed unlikely, given the forecast, but the restaurant was only a few blocks from the hotel. Maybe he could walk it.
By some miracle he did manage to get a cab back to the hotel. He’d just finished checking in again, and was turning to take his suitcase up to the room when he saw Aubrey at the desk two down from him.
A bellhop took Aubrey’s suitcase, and Aubrey turned toward the hotel bar but stopped when he saw Nate.
“You get the same message I did?” Nate asked.
“Yeah, no flight and now no hotel room. At least they’ll hold my bag, and I think I can buy enough overpriced cocktails down here that they’ll let me stretch out on a couch all night.”
“Probably,” Nate agreed. He had to bite his tongue because he nearly caught himself offering to share his room. Sometimes he had to squash his inborn Midwestern politeness before it made him do something stupid.
The bellhop passed, and Nate flagged him down to have his suitcase brought up. Maybe he wouldn’t go whole-hog crazy, but he could at least be friendly. “I was going to brave the snow and check out Chez Sono. They’re open but no reservations. You want to tag along?”
Aubrey paused, looked toward the hotel lobby, then looked outside. Snow beat fiercely against the windowpanes, swirling so thick Nate could barely make out the glow of streetlights. They’d had a matinee, so it was only six. “You think we can get a cab?”
A car drove slowly by, braked, kept going, and bumped gently into a parked vehicle.
Nate looked from the blinking lights and blaring alarms back to Aubrey. “Actually, I’m thinking about walking.”
“I’m game.” Aubrey grinned. “Maybe with our combined charm we can wrangle a table. Or maybe we’ll look so pathetic by then they’ll take pity.”
“Whatever gets us fed.” Nate held the door open for him, feeling something akin to camaraderie. Or maybe he was just that hungry.
They didn’t talk on the walk, between being bundled up and hustling along the sidewalk. Aubrey held his phone up, and the map app glowed like a beacon.
When they arrived, Chez Sono was bustling—Winnipeg didn’t shut down over a little snow. The hostess gave them a ridiculous wait time before suggesting that they try for a spot at the bar. Aubrey took off as soon as she said that, leaving Nate to mutter, “Thanks” before following in his wake.
He had to admit it gave him a pretty good view. Aubrey’s suit was tailored to flatter his lean frame, showing off a slender waist and strong shoulders. Nate wasn’t the only one who noticed either. A high-top table of women turned their heads almost in unison as he passed.
“I can’t believe they’re slammed in this weather,” Aubrey commented, shaking his head. “This better be some restaurant.”
The cocktail menu was eight pages, leather-bound, with prices to match. When the bartender managed to stop mixing drinks long enough to take their order, Nate asked for a Negroni and Aubrey an Aviation, and then Nate asked for a plate of the bacon-wrapped dates to start.
Aubrey raised an eyebrow.
“Hardly anyone has food right now,” Nate pointed out. “It’s early. Kitchen’s just getting started. We’re going to be here a while.”
“Yeah, I know. The eyebrow was for your selection.”
Oh, were they going to give each other a hard time at dinner too? Fine by Nate. He rolled his eyes gamely. “Hey, you don’t have to have any.”
“Let’s not be hasty. I’ll try anything once.” Aubrey batted his eyelashes.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me.”
Aubrey flashed a sly smile. “Can’t just do the same thing over and over. What fun would that be?”
Just then a raucous crowd of thirtysomething guys behind Aubrey laughed uproariously, making him flinch. He leaned forward, a tactical error as the loud group took it as an opportunity to invade their space. Aubrey spared them one annoyed glance before hitching his stool closer.
If that group spread out any more, they’d push Aubrey into Nate’s lap.
That would be awkward.
“If you wanted to fight them for it, you think you could take them?” Nate meant it as a joke, but hearing himself, it sounded weirdly like innuendo.
Aubrey pursed his lips, as if considering. “Maybe the big one in the blue shirt, but I’ve had better.”
Nate’s eyes widened. “I meant—”
“Aviation and Negroni,” the bartender interrupted.
“Thank you!” Aubrey chirped. “Hey, can I put in an order for those truffle-oil fries with the banana ketchup? I’m intrigued.”
“Sure thing.”
“Banana ketchup,” Nate repeated. “That sounds….”
“Both disgusting and kind of dirty?” He grinned and hooked his feet around the bar rail.
“I know, that’s why I ordered it.” For a second, Nate thought he’d escaped their previous conversation, and he couldn’t decide whether he was relieved or disappointed.
But then Aubrey went on as if they’d never been interrupted, “What about you?”
Nate’s throat went dry, so he picked up his drink. Even in his shock he could tell it was expertly made, the perfect balance of sweet and bitter. Strong too. He licked his lips afterward and cleared his throat. Still dry. “What about me, what?”
Aubrey gestured at the party behind them. “You had better than blue-shirt guy?”
Damn it. Nate’s ears went hot. Fortunately the restaurant kept the lighting dim. Aubrey probably couldn’t tell. “I’ve never had blue-shirt guy. How do I know what he’s like in bed?”