Page 130 of The Stud

“No brews. No booze. No drugs.”

“Ballet is still an option.”

He nods at the fair point as Trent investigates, “You’re into the ballet?”

“Slang for strip club,” Carson casually informs.

“And why would it not be,” mirthfully snickers his husband on a shake of the head.

“They’ll give you your seats when you check in, but if you need other accommodations – end seat or no stairs seat or closer to the exit – just let Katie Hardwick know – petite blonde, Kindergarten teacher voice – and she’ll get you rearranged. We have an entire chunk sectioned off specifically for family night, so it shouldn’t be that hard if necessary.”

“Where will I be sitting?” Trent politely asks prompting my brow to furrow. “On the opposite side? In the highest section? One of the empty boxes?”

“You will be sitting beside your husband in the family section,” I announce without hesitation.

“But-”

“You are Tanner’s father. You deserve to see him and support him in his career, just like he deserves to be seen and supported.” Sliding my hands into the back pockets of my jeans is mindlessly done. “Youarehis family. And the fact that thatmaymake other people uncomfortable, isn’t ayouproblem, it’s athemproblem; however, what you decide to do about that – caring or not – is ultimately up toyou.” A tiny shrug bounces my shoulders. “You arewelcomedto sit among the rest of the dragon clan, or you are welcomed to sit in the Slayer box we use for regular games. You are welcomed to stay for the game or go after the bakery event. Again…it is completelyup to youafter he initially sees you came.”

Rather than give me the enthusiastic war cry I wanted, Trent simply offers a single nod of dismissal. “I understand.”

Okay.

That’s not quite a rallying response but notnotone, yeah?

Getting from Tanner’s apartment to the employees only parking at the stadium takes about the amount of time expected. Once parked – only the boys get their vehicles parked for them – I swiftly swap my cooking-stained tank for my black Dalvegan Dragons polo that’s stretched out in the passenger seat. Post putting it on, I grab my work bag, loose rubber ducky scrunchy, and signature sharpie that I instantly hook onto my lapel.

Unfortunately for me, closer to the doors, the caitiff cloaked in Coach perfume – shout out to Tanner’s last crossword search – swoops in beside me and dry heaves. “Gross.” She tucks her phone into her tiny white handbag. “You smell like sugar and sadness.”

My fingers don’t stop their task of collecting all my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head. “You look like a Parisian prostitute.”

“I look classy.”

“You look like what youthinkclassy should be.”

“I look like I’m about to meet my future in-laws for the first time,” she declares while adjusting her rose pink off the shoulder sweater dress. “And I want their impression of me to be high society welcomed in their social circles not ice slut who wishes they were.”

“Except you are an ice slut who wishes she were,” I sassily snip when we arrive at the door.

“Yes, but they’re going to lovemeinstead of whoever Frosky’s supposed shadow whore is.”

“Slayer.”

“Ew,” she sneers yet again. “I would never be called that.”

“You’re right.” Opening the door with a sharp tug is accompanied by my own snarky smile. “You never will.”

The eye roll I’m given barely beats her stomping her white ankle boots covered feet into the building.

LMC sponsoring hot chocolate or coffee or tea for the players and their families was actuallymyidea.

Joey came up with the theme; however, I suggested that it could be a good press event if we paired it with ourbiggest donor, to which she squealed with excitement over the possibility.

Or maybe that was because I was taking “Slayer initiative”, a thing that apparently, I should be doing given that Tanner wears an A.

Bringing it up to Mom had her giddily agreeing without even bothering to ask Dad who instantly saw what a great opportunity it could be for the brand, the team, and of course them meeting my boyfriend’s parents who would be in town for it which has been arranged to happen post-game, post-family skate at a private lounge to aid in keeping our relationship hidden.

Yeah.

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