Page 6 of Brace and Chase

He’s probably down there getting into his pads already, since he lets every kid score at least once—but not the adults. Not even the boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands or wives. And they all try. The only one of those who’s even come close was Drew, and I know it’s because our Bear got distracted by his fiancé’s beauty.

The memory of how happy Bear is with Drew brings a small smile to my lips on my way out—something I don’texpect when I’ve got a storm brewing inside me. But seeing my friend so happy makesmehappy.

All of them, actually.

And I know the some of the guys are still finding their footing in the league and too young to think about settling down. Well, all except for Milkman who seems to have found his forever love with Xander.

I’m the same as those young ones if I’m being honest. All my energy and time go into hockey, and I discovered a handful of years ago that I don’t ever want to do anything by halves. I like to be all in on everything and that includes romance.

One of the only things I’ve got figured out about life after hockey is that I want to find a woman to love and to build a life with, maybe have a family. I want, so much, to feel like I have a family again. For now my family are the Pirates, and though it was a hard pill to swallow after my parents passed away, I’ve accepted it and I even like it that way now.

I drive straight to the Winner resort where I keep a suite and go over to my little bar, get out a glass and a brand new bottle of my favorite Vodka, and pour myself four stiff fingers.

I sit on the couch and lean back, taking a big sip and brooding at the empty couch on the other side of the coffee table.

I feel alone. So fucking alone that the thought of going back to the practice rink flits through my mind, but I knowI’m not in the right mood to be around people. Also not in the right mood to be by myself and isn’t that a bitch?

I look around and can’t help but feel sorry for myself.

I sold the house I lived in for almost ten years after my parents passed away. I bought that house with my first paycheck when I was called up from the farm team six months after the draft. It wasn’t until I was twenty-six that they moved in.

And at first it was heaven. We made some of the happiest moments of my life in that house. But then we got horrible news less than a year after they arrived.

Cancer and a fast-acting dementia took them both in less than a year.

It’s been seven years and I still remember the feeling of whiplash when it happened. It was too soon, too fast.

I wasn’t ready to lose them. I don’t think I could’ve ever been ready, not even if they’d fought for their lives for twenty years. Most importantly, I still don’t know if my mom dying just weeks after my father was a good or a bad thing, but I do know that I miss them every day.

I miss our family every day.

The only things I kept from that house were all the paintings my father collected and all the photos my mother put in frames around the house. I even hung the pictures of our family that make me angry every time I see them. She would’ve wanted me to keep those “good memories” around, so I do.

Everything else was sold, and I moved to the hotelthinking I’d stay here while I looked for a smaller place for myself. I never got around to that. Not only because I didn’t have the time to be looking at apartments, but because living in a hotel is fucking convenient when you have the money.

I’m good friends with Caro, the maid assigned to this floor of suites, and I tip her well. Room service is awesome even though I get a lot of my meals at the practice rink and at the arena. But what’s kept me here the most is the noise.

There’s not a lot of it since all the suites on this floor and the one above are pretty big, but you can hear people walking down the hallway, the dim ding of the elevator... I don’t like silence so this works well for me.

I have millions of points in my rewards card for the hotel chain since I’ve been here so long, and a lot of people are good friends now. Like I know right now, two o’clock on a Tuesday, Grant is at the main desk and would speed my room-service order if I ask.

I don’t pay for gas, water, or power, I have a kick-ass shower and bed, and even though it technically isn’t, it feels as close to home as anything can. For me at least.

It’s a lot better than people would think. Besides, I barely spend any time here. It’s rare for me to be here during the day.

I like the furniture just fine, and I secretly like how it’s all just a little bit small for me. It makes me feel like a giant.

Except the bed.

I did ask that a bigger bed be brought to my roombecause a man of six-six can’t really sleep well in a regular king.

All in all, this suite is all I need, though.

My phone rings and I fish it out of my pants to see it’s my lawyer. I answer right away.

“Mr. Flores,” I say, laying it on thick with the accent the way I love to do just to keep it fresh in my mind.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Brotnik.”

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