19. Nick
NICK
Ihave never been around so many people without a bodyguard. This is exhilarating and overwhelming.
Hank is my bodyguard tonight. He’s big, burly, and is welcome to lay his body over me.
That’ll come later.
Later I’ll be in Hank’s house. With him. Preferably in his bed.
And it will be infinitely better than with Vincent from boarding school or a sex worker because I can gaze into Hank’s eyes and feel him gazing back at me. Even though this can’t last, we can have one magical night together.
“Beer?” Hank asks me when we stroll into the first bar, Stone’s Throw Tavern. Coming here for beers after our game already makes me feel like a regular.
“Isn’t that the protocol?” I ask.
“You’re so cute.”
I’m grateful that this is our first stop.
It’s safe, familiar ground. The bar is packed with people dressed up, taking selfies, yelling over the music to each other.
I feel like I’m in the center of the universe.
Mitch and Charlie mill about, replenishing glasses behind the bar, hooking up new kegs, checking on patrons who’ve gone too hard too fast and need a drink of water.
Christmas music blares and the old Frosty the Snowman cartoon plays on the TVs.
It smells like beer and pine-scented candles trying their best.
We crowd around a pair of high-top tables. Charlie brings us our first round.
“I can’t believe you guys actually came out,” he says. “I owe Mitch five bucks. Enjoy, fellas!”
“It’s hoppier than I expected,” I say after taking a sip.
Hank snorts. “That’s Sourwood, baby. We like our beer like we like our winters. Aggressive.”
He laughs, and my stomach does a thing I do not approve of. In a few hours, I’m going to see this man stark naked.
We enjoy our drinks, doing our best to ignore the chaos swirling around us.
Derek regales us with putting out a house fire today where the owner tried to use his firepit in his living room.
It’s wild how many people are so close to accidentally setting themselves on fire.
Hank and I brush our knees against each other under the table.
I feel myself blush; Hank’s touch making me ache for later.
I catch Des looking at me, a curious twist of his lips, but he glances at the TVs before we can make eye contact.
Jack finds us in the thick of people and brings with him a tray of shots.
“Shots!” he yells.
“We’re supposed to be drinking beer,” Hank says.
“If you guys can’t handle it…” Jack says.
“We can.” Bill grabs his shot and downs it. The only thing Bill hates more than getting drunk is backing down from a dare and not winning.
We all take a shot. It burns my throat, and I’m unable to hide my wincing.
“You doing all right?” Hank asks, hand on my lower back.
“I’m not a big drinker.”
“I can tell.”
I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve gotten drunk. An errant party in boarding school and university. Never as an adult, unless I wanted to wake up to my face on the front page of newspapers.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I need something sweet to wash down the taste of this shot,” Hank says.
“I saw they have holiday-themed drinks at the bar. I’ll get us something.”
I fight through throngs of younger people to reach the bar. Charlie pours another row of shots for a group of ladies.
“Round two already? Pace yourself,” he says when I flag him down.
“I’m looking at your holiday specials.” In a picture frame with lit up red-and-green lights around the border are specialty cocktails. “Son of a Nutcracker” is an amaretto and cranberry juice. I’m intrigued.
“I’ll take two Son of a Nutcrackers,” I tell him. Charlie skitters off, delivering shots to the ladies, and taking more orders while mixing drinks. I’m impressed by his dexterity.
Des comes up to me and checks out the holiday menu.
“Thinking of something festive?” I ask.
“Nah, I’ll just do a martini,” he says, while still reading the menu. “I need to wash down the taste of this beer.” Des returns the holiday picture frame menu to the bar. “How are you liking Sourwood?”
“I love it. I wish I could stay longer. Thanks for letting me join your team.”
“Of course. Nick, you and I haven’t known each other for long, so you probably don’t know that I can be a direct person.”
Shit. I knew by the way Des looked at me earlier that he was onto me. Well, anonymity was fun while it lasted. “The answer is yes,” I tell him.
“I knew it. I knew you two were railing each other.”
“What?” I guffaw out a laugh.
“You and Hank. You guys are being way too friendly to be just teammates.”
“No, we’re…” There are some things I can lie to Des about, but I realize this doesn’t have to be one of them. He wants me to confide in him, as I would to a friend. “We aren’t railing each other yet.”
He claps his hands together. “I knew it.”
“Not to be too graphic, but that might be coming later.”
I worry I’ve overstepped, but Des barks out an approving laugh. He’s happier than I am at the prospect of sleeping with Hank. It’s not unlike how the group on Friends acted when Ross and Rachel started dating for the first time.
“Are we being obvious?” I ask.
“Sorta. Hank would never turn down the opportunity to wear an ugly Christmas sweater, and yet he’s here in an ironed, well-fitting shirt with combed hair. He wanted to dress up for you.”
I glance back at Hank. His button-down shirt shows off his broad chest, hugs his arms. His stomach slightly pushes against the buttons in front, cutting a very hot full figure. I know I sound like a broken record, but he is one sexy man.
“Jesus, you’re practically drooling.” Des joyously studies me.
“You two keep making moony eyes at each other. It’s a tad stomach-churning, but overall…
sweet.” Des’s face glows with a warmth I haven’t yet seen from him.
“I always hated how Cathy treated him. The only joy she found in her pathetic little life was putting him down. I should’ve been a better friend and gotten him away from her sooner.
I wondered if he’d ever try his luck with someone else again. ”
I glance at Hank again, only this time I look past the hot body to a man who might be more fragile than I thought.
“It’s a shame you’re not local.”
“We’re not…together. We’re just…” I’m unsure how to finish that sentence. “We haven’t talked about anything. We’re just two guys who play hockey and sometimes do other stuff.”
“Good. You don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Says the guy who spontaneously married his best friend.” Hank gave me the full rundown on Des and Tanner’s love story on the drive over.
“Look at you.” Des cocks an eyebrow. “In the friend group for a week and already giving me shit. I’m impressed.” He places a firm hand on my shoulder. “You know, Baltimore isn’t that far away.”
It isn’t. But Ardenia is an eight-hour flight that requires crossing an ocean.
“Yeah.”
“I hope when the holidays are over, we still get to see you around.”
“Me, too.”
Charlie brings us our drinks. I chug half of mine like it’s desperately needed medicine.
“I was going to say cheers, but I see you were thirsty.” He awkwardly clinks his martini against my glass, and we soldier back into the crowd.
Des throws his arm around Hank and gives him a noogie and then a kiss atop his head.
“What’s that for?” Hank asks.
“Whatever’s going on, I approve.” Des holds his martini glass up to us. “I want nothing but happiness for you, Hank.”
“Aw, Des. Are you already drunk?”
“I think all the Axe body spray I’m inhaling from these frat boys is making me buzzed.” Des sips his martini and reacts with an ahhh. A guy wearing the bottom half of a reindeer outfit bumps into his elbow, spilling half of the martini on his cashmere sweater.
“Sorry, dude.”
“Run along now.” Des glares at him until he scoots.