Chapter 20 #2
“March 18th,” Spencer supplies, fist-bumping him. “It’s gonna be awesome. You’d better tune in.” Then he shoots Nick a wink, smirking conspiratorially. Nick blinks—what the hell was that for?
Before he can spend long puzzling that over, Jessie the waitress returns to take their orders, flirting heavily with Nick while she does so, and just as she’s leaving, the trio of latecomers shows up.
“Sorry, sorry!” Sunny says, when Moose boos him for being late. “Our Uber got stuck in tourist traffic.”
“First round’s on Sunny!” Hugsy announces, laughing as he stands to greet them. Nick hops to his feet as well.
“Glad you guys could make it,” he says, like he didn’t have a small meltdown over just that. “Mars, you are rocking that jumpsuit. It’s gorgeous.” It’s a red sequined sleeveless jumpsuit with wide-legged pants that sweep the floor, and with her hair up like that she looks like a model.
Wait a minute.
“Holy shit! You cut your hair.” Upon closer inspection, it’s not tied up—she’s chopped it all off, down to a cute little pixie cut, shaved short on the sides and slightly curly on top. “I love it.”
Marlowe beams at him and hugs him round the neck. “Thanks! I wasn’t sure at first but the more I look at it the more I’m into it.”
“It looks rad as hell,” Sunny says, beaming. Nick feels a presence at his shoulder, in time to see Casey squeeze her way in beside him.
“It super does. Your bone structure is beautiful. Hi, I’m Casey.”
“Oh, you’re—I mean, you’re in the band!” Marlowe exclaims, though she looks stunned, gripping tight to Sunny’s hand, eyes wide and face pale as she looks at Casey. Nick, by now familiar with what that kind of look means, braces himself for the worst.
But Marlowe just blinks, then beams. “I heard you on the radio the other day. It was great! That one song that’s about, like, how social media and the marketing algorithm has ruined the way we enjoy things.”
“‘Algorhythmic,’” Casey offers, and Mars nods eagerly, waving a hand.
“Yeah, that one! I liked it a lot.” Then she blinks, flushing pink. “Oh! I’m Marlowe. You can call me Mars. This is my boyfriend Sunny, and this is Beau.”
Cheers go up as a pair of waitresses arrive with an impressive array of drinks, and Nick quickly loses track entirely of who’s been introduced to whom.
He sips at his beer and tries not to let the thudding of his pulse in his ears get to him, watching his two worlds collide in a way he was absolutely not prepared for when he got up this morning.
Thankfully, it’s going well; they’re talking hockey, and music, and everyone’s being chill, and no one’s questioned the true nature of Nick’s relationship with Matt or said anything offensive.
Not that he really expected that, out of these guys. It’s other members of the team he’s less sure about.
Matt’s standing off to the side, holding a soda and watching the NHL scores come up on the TV.
Nick sidles over to join him. “Hey,” he says, bumping their shoulders together.
He wants to kiss Matt so badly—he’s wearing the blood-red leather jacket that’s one of Nick’s favorites, and when the light hits in just the right way Nick realizes there’s the faint outline of a hickey half-hidden by the collar of his shirt. Oops.
“Hey, you.” Matt’s eyes crinkle at the corners with affection. Nick’s heart melts. “I was just about to go to the bathroom, actually. Mind showing me where it is?”
Nick snorts. “How the tables have turned.”
Setting their drinks aside, he leads the way out the side door—one of the benefits of a private room is access to the VIP bathrooms. “How you doing?” He links his pinky finger with Matt’s, the most he dares to do in a semi-public corridor.
“Pretty good, actually. You’ve got some really great teammates. Moose is a riot.”
“Yeah, he’s quicker on the draw than people give him credit for.
” Because he’s six foot six and built like a tank, people expect Moose to be some big dumb jock stereotype, but in the last season and a half of skating with him Nick’s discovered the guy’s incredibly sharp sense of humor.
“Looked like him and Case were hitting it off.”
“I think she intimidates the shit out of him,” Matt says, “but I think he kinda likes it?” He raises his eyebrows playfully, nudging the men’s room door open. “You gonna get jealous if your teammate steals your favorite band?”
“As long as it’s not my favorite band member,” Nick retorts. Once they’re safe in the relative privacy of the bathroom, he leans in for a slow, lazy kiss. “Sorry my guys kinda crashed our evening.”
“Don’t be. They’re fun. And you didn’t see Joel trying not to have a fanboy freakout over meeting Hugsy—he fucking idolizes that guy.”
“Really?” It’s funny; Nick always forgets that his teammates are the kind of hockey players people idolize. Not that they don’t deserve it—they’re incredible players—but to him they’re just the guys.
“He might actually kiss you for introducing him,” Matt informs him, smirking.
“Huh, how about that. Anyone else on my team they wanna meet?”
“Probably.” Matt moves closer, draping his arms over Nick’s shoulders, fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his head. “But I don’t really wanna talk about your teammates right now. I wanna congratulate my man on his two-point game.”
Ignoring the stutter in his chest over the words my man, Nick lets himself be drawn into the kiss, cupping Matt’s jaw, eyes fluttering shut as the breath is stolen from his lungs.
Lost in the feel of Matt’s body against his, he doesn’t notice the door until it’s too late. He feels Matt tense as it swings open, and jumps back in alarm, whipping around to see a wide-eyed Sunny in the doorway. His stomach sinks. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry!” Sunny yelps, stepping fully into the bathroom so the door can shut behind him. “My bad, guys!”
Nick’s stomach lurches. His vision blurs and he can’t catch his breath for entirely non-kissing related reasons. “I—I can explain. I—”
Sunny snorts. “While I would be very interested to hear what you think you can pass that off as, don’t bother, man. It’s cool. I won’t tell. I—This explains a lot, actually.”
“What do you mean?” Nick’s going to have a panic attack in the middle of this fucking bathroom and then everyone will know what he was doing in here. It takes him a moment to feel the fingers prying at his clenched fist; Matt, trying to take his hand, eyeing him in concern.
Holding his hands up defensively, Sunny shakes his head. “Nothing bad! Just, like, some thoughts I’ve had. And things I’ve observed.”
“Fuck, am I that obvious?” Nick’s heart sinks.
“No!” Sunny runs a hand through his hair, blue eyes wide and earnest. “No one suspects anything. Seriously, I’d know it if they did. You’re fine. I just… Don’t worry about it.”
“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Matt’s voice is hard in a way Nick’s never heard before. He moves slightly in front of Nick, squaring up like he’s ready to fight. If they were on the ice, Nick would be preparing for dropped gloves.
“What? God, no!” Sunny sounds horrified at the prospect. “Your business is your business, man. I can keep a secret. I—Trix, are you … good?”
Nick blinks. His chest feels tight. Is he hyperventilating? “Shit.”
Suddenly, Matt’s hand is on his chest, his face right in front of his. “Breathe, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. It’s okay. Sunny’s cool, right? You trust him?” With a rattling gasp of breath, Nick nods. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
“Nick…” Sunny moves closer, brows furrowed.
“I won’t say anything to anybody. Far as I’m concerned, this never happened.
Just maybe save the rest of whatever I interrupted for when you get home, yeah?
” He cracks a shaky smile, which Nick tries his best to return.
Breathing is getting easier, though he still feels lightheaded.
“Yeah. Sorry. I—We should’ve been more careful.” He’s such a fucking idiot. These bathrooms are private but the outer door doesn’t lock. Anyone could’ve walked in on them. What the hell was he thinking?
“It happens.” Sunny grins at him, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “I’m gonna go back to the party. But, uh, I do actually need to piss, so…”
“Oh!” Nick scrambles to the side, out of the way of the stalls.
He and Matt stand braced against the sinks, staring awkwardly at each other and pretending they can’t hear Sunny peeing over the quiet background music. Nick’s hands are still trembling, his heart rate having not quite returned to normal.
They got lucky, here. If there’s anyone on the team he’d trust with this information more than Marco, it’s Sunny—that big ball of sunshine has never had a prejudiced bone in his body.
The thought of how that could’ve gone with anyone else makes him want to throw up.
Sunny leaves the stall and washes his hands, giving Nick a half-smile. “I’ll see you back out there. And, uh, again, I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Nick dismisses immediately. When he’s gone, Nick slumps against the wall, letting out a long sigh. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
Matt immediately strides over and wraps him in a crushing hug.
Nick buries his face in his chest, melting into the embrace, feeling his eyes itch at the corners.
He can’t cry now—then it’ll be really obvious something happened when he goes back to the others.
“Take your time, sweetheart,” Matt soothes, stroking his hair.
His heartbeat is fast under Nick’s cheek, but still steadier than Nick’s own, and Nick allows himself a few moments of solace before pulling away and straightening up. He runs a hand over his face.
“I’m fine,” he says, wondering which one of them he’s trying to convince. “I’m fine.”
“You sure? We can hang out here a little longer.”
It’s a sweet offer, but Nick can’t take it. “More chance of other people walking in.” He squares his shoulders with a steadying breath and checks himself in the mirror. Face a little flushed, eyes a little bloodshot. All easily excused by alcohol.
He can practically see the mask fall over his face, smile twisting into something a little too bright to be real. This is what he does best, after all. “I’m fine. Let’s go.” He pulls his hand out of Matt’s, even as the other man eyes him warily.
“If you’re sure. Just let me know if you need an out. I can make excuses.”
This man is far too good for Nick. Nick almost leans up to kiss his cheek, but now that the mask is in place he doesn’t want to rock the boat.
The panic attack he’ll have when he gets home is going to suck.
No one seems to have noticed they were gone when they get back.
Nick’s eyes automatically find Sunny, who’s comparing arm tattoos with Casey and Hugsy.
Marlowe is admiring Joel’s painted nails, while Spencer and Picard seem to be having a conversation that’s mostly hand gestures and half-finished sentences.
“What the fuck?” Nick remarks, gesturing towards the pair as he and Matt approach.
“They’re goalie bonding,” Casey explains without missing a beat.
Nick blinks. He hadn’t realized Spencer had been a goalie. That…
That tracks, actually.
“Cute.” He looks around the room, then raises his voice. “Anyone else want another drink?”
A cheer goes up, led largely by his teammates. Nick can still salvage this night. He’ll buy another round, then maybe suggest they head down to the main bar—get the single guys set up flirting with some girls, then head on home with a vague implication that he’s taking their waitress with him.
He knows the drill by now. He just hates the pit it opens up in his stomach every time.