8. Bryce
Bryce
“Hey, Bryce. How are you this morning?” Colt asks, a knowing smirk on his face. “Late night?”
I toss a muffin at his head. “Nah, I was tucked in bed by eleven.” I glance at Stone, who’s looking like he’s dragging this morning. “What about you, Stone? Late night?”
Stone mutters something under his breath before taking his heaping plate of breakfast to another table in the dining room.
“Who crushed his cornflakes?” Colt asks, shaking his head.
“Who knows?” I say in reply. “Are you ready for the parade?”
Colt grins and leans his chair back on two legs. “You know it! I’m hoping to collect a number or two.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I shake my head.
“You know one of these days, you’re going to meet someone and they aren’t going to put up with your nonsense. I can’t wait,” I deadpan.
“Well, wait you will,” Colt says, dropping his chair onto all four legs and leaning forward. “I have no intention of settling down anytime soon.”
“Eat your food,” Coach Badaszek says, walking by and shaking his head. “I swear, for grown men, you try my patience.”
I chuckle, and Colt sticks out a lip in a fake pout. “You know you love us.”
Coach MacHolland claps his hands and gathers everyone’s attention. “Okay, today’s a big day. As you know, we are going to be walking in the parade. Let’s go have some fun and make some fans' dreams come true, shall we?”
We are gathered in front of the National Gallery of Art when a parade staff person gets on the megaphone and tells us that the men’s hockey team will be walking behind the Olympic equestrians. “That should be fun,” Colt grumbles.
“What’s the problem?” I ask him. I take the five hockey sticks that we were given to hand out during our stay and shove them under my arm so I can wipe the sweat from my brow with my free hand. “Besides the fact that I’m about to melt out here.”
“Ever been downwind of a horse for very long?” Colt asks, waving his hand in front of his nose. “Gross. I’ll be toward the back,” he says, shaking his head.
I follow him, deciding I would rather not chance horse-scented wind.
The parade starts, and it isn’t long before Dante Lienecker starts clapping like a seal and whooping.
Which, of course, startles the horses, causing them to panic and start prancing around wildly.
The guy’s always been a jerk. He hits on Xavier’s sister every chance he gets—and ?then we hit him—on the ice, of course, every chance we get. It's weird being on the same team now.
“Never been around a horse, I see,” Colt calls as we rush to try to help calm the horses down.
“I was just having some fun, man,” Dante calls, looking smug nonetheless.
After some of the guys help with calming the horses, we start walking the route. I’m drenched in sweat, and we aren’t even at the hottest part of the day.
“Here,” Colt says, passing me his remaining sticks. “I’ve got to take this off.” He whips his blue team jersey over his head and tosses it on his shoulder. Thank goodness he’s wearing a team t-shirt underneath. “There, that’s better.”
“Good idea,” I say, passing him all the sticks, his and mine, and doing the same. “Much better.”
We pass a hydration station and I snag a little paper cup of water, downing it in one go. “I hope they have drinks and snacks at the end of this thing,” I say, smiling and passing a stick to a little boy who’s geared up and sweaty. “I’m hungry.”
“When are you not hungry?” Tyson says, passing by and shaking his head. He’s dropped back in the line and keeps craning his neck like he’s looking for something—or someone.
“Yeah, yeah.”
As we continue down the parade route, I wave to the people cheering and calling our names.
It’s surreal to be here. To be part of something so special.
I imagined this moment for weeks after being asked to play in the Stars and Stripes Tournament.
Basking in the limelight, interacting with fans, using this as an opportunity to leverage a better contract next year.
Except now that I’m here… it doesn’t feel the way I thought it would. I feel like something is missing.
My mind goes to Hadley. I wonder what she’s up to this morning. She mentioned spending the day with her family at dinner, but she didn’t say what they’d be doing. I should have asked her to come with me today.
“Bryce!” a little girl yells. “Cha Cha! Bryce Chambers, over here! Please!”
I paste my ‘pro hockey player’ grin on my face and make my way over to the little girl. “Hello there,” I say, bending down to be on her level. “Are you having a good time?”
She nods, her head bobbing up and down enthusiastically. “You’re my favorite player,” she says, grinning and holding up a picture of me at one of my last games in Denver. “Would you sign this for me?”
I smile and take the picture and the marker she hands me. “Here you go,” I tell her, passing them back. “And how about I give you my last stick?”
Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open. “For me?”
I grin. “Yep!”
Her mom mouths ‘thank you’ as the little girl takes the stick and holds it to her chest, completely melting me.
“Thank you so much,” she says, her voice quivering with excitement. “I can’t wait to show all my friends at school.”
“How about a picture, too?” I ask. “Really give them something to talk about?”
“Oh, can we?” she asks, turning to her mom.
“Stand together,” her mom says, already pulling out her phone.
I crouch down next to her, and she beams up at the camera.
“Say cheese,” her mom calls.
“Hockey,” the little girl shouts, and I can’t help but laugh.
Something about the way she lights up sticks with me.
Hadley would love this, I think to myself. She lights up when she talks about how excited the kids get at the library. Yeah, she’d love this.
“I hope to see you at a game one day. Who knows, maybe you’ll be an Olympic star,” I tell her before giving her a high five and rejoining the team.
Finally, the parade comes to an end near the Washington Monument, and I follow Tyson and a couple of other guys into a large white tent labeled “America’s Barn,” where tables of refreshments are laid out.
I beeline for the water table, grab an ice cold bottle, and chug it down.
Some of the guys are snagging protein bars off the table and digging in.
I’m too thirsty for a protein bar, no matter how fancy they look.
I step outside the barn and find a shady spot under a nearby tree to sit for a minute. I pull out my phone and open the text thread with Hadley.
Bryce: What are you up to?
I lean my head back against the tree and sigh in relief to be out of the sun and away from the chaos for a minute.
I close my eyes and just rest. This is the part I’m supposed to love.
The crowd. The attention. The recognition.
And I do, but it’s not why I play hockey. I play because I love the game.
My phone chimes, pulling me from my thoughts, and I glance down.
Hadley: On the boat, watching my nieces try to shove each other off a raft.
I grin at the mental picture. Lacey and I always tried to knock each other off the raft at the lake as kids. It was a lot of fun.
Bryce: Sounds fun.
I don’t wait long before another text pops up. It’s an image of Hadley, smiling, her hand holding her hat on her head, and the flush of being in the sun making her cheeks a delicate shade of pink. She’s smiling like she doesn’t have a care in the world. She’s gorgeous, and I’m a goner.
Hadley: Trying not to burn, but I think I’m losing the battle.
Bryce: Looks like you’re winning to me. Happy Fourth of July.
Hadley: Thanks. Gotta go help get the girls back in the boat now.
Bryce: Have fun, be safe.
“There you are,” Colt says, dropping to the ground beside me. “Can you believe those guys ate horse treats?” he asks, laughing.
“What are you talking about?”
“The bars on the table by the waters.” He laughs. “In the tent. They were horse treats.”
I laugh. “Figures. I’m glad I didn’t grab one.”
He shrugs. “The guys must have figured they were imported protein bars or something fancy.”
“Come on,” I say, pushing to my feet and tucking my phone in my pocket. “Let’s see if the festival has any food trucks. You know, ones that serve food for humans.”
Colt laughs and stands up, brushing off his jeans. “Let’s do it.”
We make our way to the Festival on the Mall, and I spot a food truck selling kabobs. “There,” I say, pointing and heading in that direction.
“Man, are you ever not hungry?” Dante asks, walking up beside us.
“Not all of us had horse treats to hold us over,” I say, laughing.
“Man, they’re never living this down,” he says, walking away.
“Nope,” Colt calls after him.
After placing an order for steak kabobs, I step to the side to wait and scan the area. There are tons of games and rides set up and families wandering through the area. I spot the Ferris wheel and wish for the hundredth time today that I’d asked Hadley to come with me.
“What do you want to do first?” Colt asks, looking around. “I was thinking of ring toss, or that test your strength booth.”
My name is called from the window indicating my order’s ready, so I grab it and point to an area set up with tables and chairs for people to sit and eat. “First,” I say, holding up the kabob. “I’m going to eat, then I’m going to beat you in any game you choose.”
Colt laughs. “You’re on.”
I down my food and throw away my trash while Colt chats with some of the other guys who have joined us at the table.
“Ready?” I ask, looking pointedly at Colt.
“For what?”
“For me to kick your butt at these games.”
“Yeah, right,” Colt says. “You couldn’t beat me if I had one hand tied behind my back.”
I wonder how Hadley would feel, pressed into my side like that? Would she go along with the playful banter of the team? Would she fit in as one of the Wags?
I shake off the questions running through my head and focus on the task at hand: Beating Colt Bradley.
Several hours and several games later, we’ve each won a few and lost a few. I spot a player walking by with a frozen banana on a stick, and it’s been dipped in chocolate. “That. I need one of those. Where do I get one of those?”
Dante, who joined back up with us at some point, laughs. “I think that truck is over by the Ferris wheel,” he says.
I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and reach for it, my grin slipping from my face when I realize it’s just my mom texting me a happy Fourth of July.
“You good?” Colt asks, pointing at the phone. “You’ve been checking that thing all day. Something happening back home?”
I type a quick message to my mom and slide the phone back in my pocket. “I’m fine, just Mom wishing me a happy Fourth.”
Colt eyes me suspiciously, but lets it go, thankfully.
“Come on. I need to find those bananas.”
Twenty minutes later, with a chocolate-covered banana in one hand and a boat of fried pickles in the other, I peel off from the guys, claiming to need a break and find a shady spot to sit.
After polishing off the banana, I take my time with the pickles, dipping them in the container of ranch they came with. I pull my phone out and read through the messages with Hadley. I’ve known her for five minutes, and she already feels important. That can’t be normal.
It’s because you can be yourself with her, the little voice in my mind says.
Out here, I’m one of fifty guys in blue or red jerseys.
I’m a player first, and a man second. But Hadley sees me for me.
Not the goofy jock. Or the potential meal ticket.
Just a guy who likes sports and good food and…
her. I like her. More than I should at this stage of knowing her.
I type out a quick message.
Bryce: Missing you.
I quickly delete it. Too much. It’s too soon for that.
I try again.
Bryce: I’m at the Fourth of July festival with some coworkers. Wish you were here.
Yeah, that’ll work. I hit send. She doesn’t answer right away, so I drop my phone in the grass beside me and finish off the pickles.
Finally, as I’m about to get up and throw my trash away, my phone buzzes with an incoming text. It’s a picture of Hadley, the sun setting behind her, and a soft smile on her face.
Hadley: Same.
She looks peaceful, happy… And for the first time all day, I wished I was somewhere else.