Page 5 of One Pucking Wish

“Cool? Not sure. Surprised? Yes.”

“Aw, come on. What’s better than all your best friends in one room celebrating the day you were born?”

The answer to that question is too vast to pinpoint a single response, so instead, I grunt and take a swig of my beer.

Bash slaps my bicep with a laugh. “The Beast in all his grumpy glory. Happy birthday.” He clinks his beer bottle against mine. “I’m glad to be here celebrating with you.”

“Thanks.”

Everyone in the Cranes organization probably thinks of me as a family would of that one loner grumpy uncle at all the gatherings. They love me and are glad I’m here but don’t know exactly what to do or say around me. The truth is, everyone here is my family—the only one I have. Despite the air I may put off, I love them all. I don’t know where I’d be without this job or these people.

I’ve just never been what one would consider “a people person.” When I was a child, I was conditioned to stay quiet and keep to myself. It was a matter of survival. Once I was in college, I found that attempting to change everything I’ve always been wasn’t that easy. I grew up avoiding friendships and keeping to myself, which carried over into adulthood. It’s quite difficult to be someone you’re not, even if you may want to. Sometimes I think it’d be cool to be like others. Take our starting forward, for example. Cade is one of the coolest people I’ve met. The guy is as nice as can be and can talk to anyone. He could befriend a rock, if needed. Beckett is always the life of the party—fun, outgoing, and charming. It’s rare not to see a smile on the dude’s face. They are both so vastly different than I am. Even with an immense amount of effort, I could never be as outgoing as they are. And the truth is… I don’t want to be. I’m pretty damn content being the more reserved, if not a little grumpy, one on the team.

As if my internal thoughts summoned him over, Beckett approaches wearing his classic shit-eating grin. “So on a scale of one to ten, how awesome was this year’s bye week?” he asks.

“It was cool.” I can’t help but chuckle; the guy’s charm penetrates even my thick skin.

“Right? Who needs house parties with a revolving door of women anyway? It’s fun just to hang out together with our real friends.”

“Mm-hmm.” I smirk with a shake of my head.

Our bye week was different this time around. In years past, we rented a mansion in an exotic location and partied for a week straight. This year—thanks to the shortest courtship in history that led to Beckett’s marriage to our team doctor—the week was more laid-back. Beckett has retired his whore ways and has settled into life as a married man. We still rented a mansion and had an abundance of food and alcohol, but it was more intimate. Those in attendance were family and friends of the team, not random hookups. We talked, hung out, and played cards. It was a great time.

“What?” Beckett raises a brow. “I just thought we could use a change of pace.”

“Sure you did, Feltmore.” I nod.

He huffs out a breath. “I did.”

I’m just giving him a hard time. I’m happy he’s found someone he wants to spend his life with. In my now almost thirty-three years of existence, I can honestly say that no one has come close for me.

The woman who stole his heart walks up to his side and supplies me with her brilliant smile. Our team doctor, Elena Cortez, recently turned Elena Feldmore, is a stunningly beautiful woman. I can see the appeal. As far as doctors go, she’s pretty badass, too.

“Happy early birthday, Gunner.” She’s the only person here who calls me by my first name, and I like it.

Nicknames are fine among the guys, but when I step back and really think about it, being referred to as the Beast out in public is just weird.

“Thank you. I’m surprised you came out.”

The team doc doesn’t often join us at the bars after a game. It’s not her scene.

“I wouldn’t miss celebrating your birthday.” She grins. “I won’t stay out long. I’m still exhausted from all the fun we had last week. I’m waiting for that second trimester boost of energy to hit me, but this pregnancy has me exhausted.”

Beckett wraps his hand around her waist and kisses her temple. When he leans back, he wears an expression of complete adoration.

Iris bounds over to our group. “It’s cake time!”

She leads me to a high-top table with a sheet cake big enough to cover the entire surface. Penny stands facing our joint birthday cake, waiting. Begrudgingly, I step up to her side. All eyes in the place are on us as Iris lights the candles. I take calming breaths through my nose, wishing I were anywhere but here. All this attention on me is not my style.

Iris initiates the happy birthday song, and everyone in the place belts out the lyrics. I drown out the off-key melody, counting down the seconds until I can step out of the spotlight.

At the end of the song, Iris claps her hands together and cheers, “Make a wish!”

Her words crash a wave of nostalgia over me, and I freeze. Every muscle in my body goes stiff. Emotions that I haven’t felt in so long weigh down on me. I feel everything as if I were still that frail little boy who had to sneak a sprinkled donut and a moment of his mother’s time.

A squeeze of my hand pulls me from my memories, and I look down to see Penny.

“You okay?” There isn’t an ounce of malice in her voice, and the way in which those two words soothe my rising panic unsettles me.

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