Page 66 of Meet Me in the Blue

“I told you.” He laughed. “Will was worse, though.”

“He was,” I agreed and rubbed the back of my head. “Out of everyone, though, he’s changed the most.”

The door to the rink suddenly swung open, and Reese barreled into the hall in full gear. His smile stretched across his face, and he whacked Luka in the ass with the blade of his stick.

“You’re late.”

“Nice to see you, too, Reese.”

My brother lumbered toward us, pulling Luka into a side hug. His watchful eyes never left mine. “Long time no see, little brother.” He released Luka from his hold and yanked me into his chest. “Did you shrink?”

“You’re on skates, asshole.”

“Excuses, excuses.” His laugh boomed down the corridor as he pulled away. “Come on, let’s get this over with, the quicker we get out of here, the quicker I can eat. I’m fucking starving.”

As we followed behind him, Luka leaned over and whispered into my ear, “He hasn’t changed at all, has he?”

“No… not at all,” I said, and everything I’d been worrying about didn’t feel as scary.

Reese introduced us to his coaching staff before showing us where Luka could set up. My brother was beyond excited to have us here, and I couldn’t help but regret that I hadn’t been to more than a handful of his NHL games during his career. He’d been traded a few times, and with work and building my practice, it never seemed possible to travel around a lot. Here I was worried about him accepting my and Luka’s relationship, and he was just happy to see me at all.

“What’s the matter?” he asked and lightly punched my shoulder. “You alright?”

“I’m good… It’s…” A boulder had lodged itself in my throat, and I struggled to formulate a sentence. Luka stood next to me, and I unconsciously laced his fingers through mine. Reese didn’t even notice, or if he had he didn’t make a thing out of it. “I’m sorry it’s been forever since we’ve seen each other. I should have come to more of your games.”

“And I should come home more, but what can we do? Life is life, right?” His lips parted into a crooked grin. “I don’t follow you around while you deliver placentas and shit, why should you follow me?”

“Placentas?” Luka cringed.

“That’s different.”

“Not to me. I love hockey, that doesn’t mean my entire family has to. You, and Mom, and Dad, supported me when I needed it most, and I’ve benefited from that. I mean, if you can make a game every now and then, sweet. If not… I’m not crying about it, alright? You worry too damn much, always did.” His gaze fell to where Luka’s hand was linked with mine. “You two have something you want to tell me, or is this one of your weird friendship things?”

“Um…” I hesitated and he waved a gloved hand.

“You know what… Save it for dinner. There’s a story here, and I have to get back on the ice.”

At that same moment, one of his teammates came to an abrupt stop in front of the boards. “Bro… we’re being accosted by six-year-olds, we need back-up.”

“Bryson, this is my brother, Rook, and his…”

“I’m Luka… it’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and nodded toward the ice. “Those little munchkins are relentless. They’ve been skating circles around you since we got here.”

“No joke.” Bryson took off his glove and shook Luka’s hand, his Canadian accent leaking through as he spoke. “If I had half their energy I’d never lose.”

“Don’t let him fool you.” Reese swung his legs over the side of the boards. “This guy never quits. We’re lucky Tampa traded him up.”

Bryson slipped on his glove and tapped the top of Reese’s helmet. “Yeah, yeah, let’s skate. Good to meet you both.”

“Same,” I said, and Luka reached into his bag for his camera.

Skating backward, Reese grinned at us, and Luka grabbed a few shots before my brother turned and disappeared into a swarm of children.

• ••

A couple hours later, the three of us were tucked away in a shadowed booth in the back room of one of Reese’s favorite breweries. It was loud, with tall ceilings and drafty ductwork. Nineties rock music blared from the overhead speakers, while a huge widescreen television played a rerun of last Thursday’s hockey game. The place was busy, but the staff was attentive, refilling our waters twice before we’d even had a chance to order. A perk of going to dinner with an NHL player I assumed.

“Did you get all the shots you needed?” Reese asked and set his menu to the side.

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