Page 83 of Game On

Jamie groaned. “But it takes so long to fly.”

“It’s an hour flight.”

“Yeah, but factoring in how early we’d have to be at the airport and how long it sometimes takes to disembark... Plus, we’d need to make special accommodations for Poppy. And can we even get a flight out for today? Come on.” Jamie’s voice turned cajoling. “Take a drive with me. It’s only four hours in good weather.”

“It won’t be four hours if we get stuck in bad snow or behind an eighteen-wheeler that hit a moose.”

“That probably won’t happen.”

“Probably?”

“I didn’t have any issues when I drove there last time. Spring weather the whole way there and back.”

“What if I fly? I can meet you and Poppy there.”

“Sure,” Jamie said easily. “But I’d rather drive there with you. And when we arrive, we can have dinner with my brother and Poppy can play with Mona—that’s Niall’s dog. And I’m sure I can convince my parents to do a Sunday brunch instead of Sunday dinner so we can attend. They’re going to love you, by the way.” He said it in a way that was no doubt meant to sound offhand but came across as a touch deliberate, as though he knew Dorian’s issue wasn’t with the Coq but with meeting family. “My mom will send us home with enough leftovers to last a week, and she’ll probably put your name on yours just to make sure I don’t eat them all.”

Dorian wanted so badly to decline.

Also wanted so badly to go.

Jamie had been brave when he’d set his past aside and decided to go out with his teammates in Winnipeg. It took guts to trust other people after what he’d gone through with the Cobras. Borrowing some of that braveness and a handful of those guts, Dorian smiled gamely and said, “Okay.”

“Yes!” Jamie pumped his fists. “Hear that, Poppy? We’re taking a road trip.”

Dorian just hoped he didn’t regret it.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The first two days of visiting with Jamie’s family were uneventful. Dorian kept bracing himself for someone to sneer at his outfit or side-eye Jamie in that “you can do so much better than this guy” kind of way. But the worst that happened was that Dorian got side-eyed for his choice of mushrooms on pizza.

Even the drive had been uneventful. The weather could be unpredictable in the mountains, yet for all his worry about bad snow, they’d had sunshine all the way from Vancouver to Kelowna.

Niall Jamieson had been the first sibling Dorian had met since he and Jamie were staying the weekend with him and his cute little French bulldog, Mona. He was the seventh of eight kids, so the closest to Jamie in both age and personality. They didn’t do anything more interesting than take the dogs for a walk and order pizza for dinner.

On Saturday morning, Dorian had met Alia, the second eldest, when she’d dropped by Niall’s to pick up a toy one of her kids had left behind on their last visit. At thirty-eight years old, she was a decade older than Jamie, but she had the potty mouth of a hockey player. Dorian had liked her instantly.

And on Saturday evening, he’d met Will, the sixth of eight kids, when he’d dropped by to try to convince them to go night skiing with him and his friends. Jamie couldn’t go for insurance reasons, Dorian didn’t ski—he tended to hermit in the winter—and Niall just plain didn’t want to go.

“Plus, I have guests,” Niall had said. “I’m not just going to abandon my host duties.”

A teasing glint had entered Will’s eyes, the same shade as Jamie’s. “But it’s just Jamie.”

Jamie had tackled him. Niall had invited Will and his friends over. They’d combined their cooking skills to make spaghetti and meatballs and homemade garlic bread for an impromptu dinner party.

So far, Dorian couldn’t exactly say he was having a bad time.

Then Sunday morning rolled around and he panicked.

It was meet-the-parents day.

And he had nothing to wear.

Alone in the guest bedroom while Jamie and Niall shared a coffee in the kitchen, Dorian held a shirt up to his chest and looked at himself in the mirror.

Nope, not good enough.

Everything he had was... loud. He was meeting parents. He needed plain old jeans and a T-shirt.

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