Page 76 of Prayers for the Prickly

It shocked me when he threw a smoldering look Brendon’s way, whose eyes instantly narrowed and darkened with fury. In all the years I’d known him, one of the things I’d always admired was how unflappable he was, so to see him about to lose his cool when the game hadn’t even started yet told me that there was something else going on between them, not that I wanted to know.

I’d made it my life’s mission to stay the fuck out of other people’s business, even family, so I wasn’t about to start getting involved when we were just rekindling an old friendship. Still didn’t stop my inner wolverine from twitching around, wanting to express its curious side. Fuckin’ busybody better remember how to keep things in check. We had a reputation, dammit. One slip and we’d have people greeting and gabbing at us at every opportunity.

Maybe that was why Uncle Ranson snarled whenever anyone wished him good morning or told him to have a good day.

It wasn’t just the sentiment, it was the potential ramifications of exchanging too many pleasantries and random conversations.

“I’ll see you on the ice,” Brendon said, leaving before I could finish pulling on my pads.

Yes, I played with shoulder pads, hockey pants and proper shin guards, too. I had work tomorrow, well maybe, August and I hadn’t worked out our schedule for the week yet. We just knew that we intended to coordinate our in-shop and at-home days to maximize the time we got to spend together as we moved into the nesting phase.

I was proud of him, for realizing he was getting physically overwhelmed with the hours he’d been keeping in his shop. As tempting as it had been to suggest or even ask him to slow down, I’d remembered the conversation with my Pops and uncle, and what they’d said about the importance of trusting my mate to know his own limitations and be there for him when he was ready to rely on me for things. It had taken the guesswork out of everything. Instead of driving myself batty going round and round with the question of how August would take any sort of suggestion along those lines and frazzling my nerves trying to figure out how to word it, I’d taken the time to prepare both my in-shop and in-home workspaces. With full shelves in my gallery and the expansion well underway, the place was running as close to perfection as I could ever hope for.

All thanks to Olly.

He was the one who stayed late now and showed up early to be there when the construction crew arrived. Throwing himself into everything there was his way of dealing with Everett leaving. I knew this, he knew this, but like the wolverines we were, we kept our damned mouths shut about it while he tried to work shit out. He knew where August and I were if he wanted to talk about it, but he was like a ghost in the place. We knew he was there, but he made himself scarce unless there was something he needed to discuss with me over supper and even then, he only stuck around long enough to finish eating, before retreating to his room to change and go to the art workshops I was almost certain he was taking. He hadn’t said anything about them, or mentioned needing to leave early, despite my insistence upon it, but from the tattered collection of cutoff sweatpants and t-shirts he left in, that was the only thing that made sense.

I watched him from the window from time to time, always awake when he came back in. Good practice for my children’s teenage years, which were too far away for me to even think about right now. In the moonlight, it had been hard to see if he brought anything home with him, but it had been impossible to miss the paint streaks on his clothes in the laundry basket he’d left in the laundry room while waiting for me to finish up the loads I’d been doing.

No I had not been snooping, thank you very much, the streaks were on damn near every piece of clothing in there. So far, I hadn’t seen graffiti in strange places or painted rocks along our section of beach, not that I’d have complained. It wouldn’t be a half bad idea to put a few of the cartoons on them, especially near the ones that led to the steps up to my shop. Come to think of it, I’d built those steps and the railings when we put the walkway in. I could always carve on them, too, and really captivate their attention.

“Hey, you coming or what, dude? Did you forget how to lace them up?”

Dash’s voice shook me out of the whirlwind of thoughts that had overtaken me. Shit. I’d forgotten how rhythmic and soothing donning the pads was. I’d have to make sure my mind didn’t drift on the ice the way it did when I skated alone. Another form of brainstorming I’d let slip away over the years, and something else August had given back to me.

“Shit, yeah, just, yeah,” I muttered, hurrying to get my ass in gear before August decided to wander from the stands to make sure I got out there to play for him.

I hurried through the rest of my gear and managed not to be the last one out of the locker room. The moment my skates hit the ice, I forgot about all those plans I’d been making, all that work stuff I was adding to the growing to do list I really needed to stop focusing so much on. I’d get there. We hadn’t even been open for a year yet.

Give yourself the same grace you’d tell August to give himself, his Uncle Atlas had said, when he’d overheard me fretting to myself during the renovations. He was right. I was more than my shop and the things I wanted to accomplish.

When the puck dropped, I stopped thinking altogether and let instinct take over. Maybe I’d understated how much time I still spent on skates. I wasn’t rusty, and those impromptu family games I’d told Brendon about were more common than I’d let on. We could always use more players, too. I’d have to get his contact information before the end of the day, so I could shoot him a text next time and see if he had time to join us.

Look at me, taking the steps to actually stay in contact with someone.

Dash shot me a pass that I flicked to Brendon when I saw him open, the two of us flanking him as he made for the goal. He flicked it back to me to avoid it being stolen, and I took the shot, sending it right between the goalie’s legs.

That buzzer brought a rush I hadn’t felt in years, bolstered by a brief celebration, when Brendon hugged me and Dash and I bumped fists. From there on out, it was all about keeping my eye on that puck and working with the other five men on the team with me. Out there, it was like getting tunnel vision. The speed we were moving at should have made everyone a blur, only my senses dialed up, allowing me to keep track of everything and everyone, while sound, for the most part, was just muffled white noise and the clack and clatter of sticks on ice.

Every now and then I caught sight of August seated beside Janie two rows behind the glass where they had a perfect view of all the action. Grinning, cheering, waving whenever our eyes locked, I could tell he was enjoying himself.

Good, that was so good, because I was, too.

Thoroughly enjoying myself, in fact. Something he’d made possible when he’d insisted that our lives were not going to stop moving forward once our whelplets came alone. They were just going to morph a little, so they were included in everything we did. His family was already discussing not putting another business in the shop Everett had vacated, and instead, turning it into an in-house daycare center for the children of those working there. It was brilliant. If they chose to go ahead with that plan, our whelplets would spend their time there when they weren’t with us. And be surrounded by cousins in the process.

How perfect was that?

I really needed to stop using that phrase before I tempted the fates into throwing a monkey wrench in just to keep me humble and remind me of the way the winds could shift in a heartbeat, but it was hard when everything in my life was simply amazing right now.

Spinning, I skated around one of our opponents with the puck before firing it to Brendon right before I was checked into the boards. Turning, I realized that my mate was right there above me, looking down with wide eyes and a slightly horrified look.

Me being me, I just had to turn a little more, grin and wave at him. It brought the smile back to his face and he shook his head as I chuckled and waved before I spun to rejoin the game. Dash scored seconds later, putting us two ahead. Instead of fist bumping me, he grabbed me in a hug this time, his voice in my ear filling me with dread.

“I need to talk to you after,” he said. “It’s about Olly.”

Shit.

Every thought of perfect flew right out of my head as he drew back, gaze somber for a half-second before he flashed his trademark gap-toothed grin and he and all of that colorful hair skated away.

---