Page 43 of Friendzone Hockey
“Shit,” I say under my breath when Bryce Meyer enters the pub. All my Stacey drama made me forget about his first shift. Dad said he could have a job, and I said I was all right to start his training when Dad was away.
He’s taller than last season and since hitting his twenties, he hit a maturity streak, looking more like a man than a teen. All Meyers are a bit older than their chronological age anyway because of their upbringing. They raised themselves because their parents weren’t around. Bryce’s mannerisms remind me of Mercy, but he’s a lot less crass than Mercy is. Mercy’s the eldest Meyer and Jack Leslie’s boyfriend.
He smiles. “Hey, thanks for this. Merc made everyone old enough get jobs this summer.”
Knowing Merc, he’s teaching them life skills. His and Jack’s NHL career can probably support the whole family.
“We were gonna start you off as barback so that you can move to bartending a little faster. You’ll mostly work with Matty today, but I’ll show you around.”
I have the time now before the restaurant gets busy. It’ll be a great distraction. Before we can get far, the door opens, blowing in the summer breeze along with an Elkington.
Even if Maverick didn’t play on my hockey team, Elkingtons are easy to recognize. They all have the same steel jawline, and “I’m the best thing in the universe” demeanor. He bypasses the hostees, who glare at him, and seats himself despite the sign that clearly states, “please wait to be seated”. He demurely sits in one of the booths and settles his gaze on Bryce.
“What’s that about?” I ask.
Bryce’s cheeks tinge a healthy shade of pink. He rubs the back of his neck. “Um, yeah. He’s not a fan of this whole ‘me having a job’ thing.”
I raise a brow. “Boyfriend?”
“Complicated.”
Joy.
“Good god.” I didn’t have the chance to get to know Maverick all that well last season. He kept to himself, and I guess his spare time went to whatever he was doing with Bryce. I was preoccupied. I pull the phone from my pocket. Rhett and, or Logan will be dealing with this. I’m pretty sure Maverick was the brother who moved in with Rhett, but I can’t remember. It’s hard enough keeping up with my own drama, never mind RhettLo drama—and they have a lot of it. After I send a text to both of them so that at least one of them will get their ass down here, I lead Bryce to the back and hand him a shirt.
“Sooo, what does a barback do?”
“It’s simple, kid. You’re the bartender’s bitch. Whatever they want, you get them as fast as humanly possible.”
He rolls his eyes. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re not.” It just feels that way since I met him when he was much younger.
“I look after a baby, and a Theo, I think I can do this.”
I don’t doubt he’s built for the chaos that is working in a restaurant, but it’s still a lot. I show him where to sign in for his shift, take him through the staff area, and show him the kitchen. We pass Dirk on the way.
“I have an Elkington situation out there,” I tell him.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Dirk says.
I ask Bryce with my eyes if he’s willing to elaborate.
“Maverick Elkington and I kinda made out in a locker room once and now he acts as if we’re fated mates.”
“Fated mates?” Dirk asks.
“Shifter romance reference,” I explain.
“I’m sorry I asked,” Dirk says. “Where’s Rhett? He needs to remove his brother before I do.”
I hold up a hand to tell Dirk to wait before he goes all Texas Ranger out there. Dirk doesn’t mind the Elkingtons as much as some do, but he’s allergic to drama.
“Why aren’t you dating?” I ask because it’s clear they’re not, just notwhythey’re not.
Bryce heaves a sigh. “I had the hugest crush on him back in the RhettLo getting-together era, but Merc was against it, so it didn’t move past idle flirtations. But then Merc decided he was being a helicopter parent—which, true—and I discovered that Merc was right about how much of an asshole Mav is.”
“I swear to fucking god, if you two are another Sutterchuck, I’m moving to Mexico,” Dirk threatens. “Only one sex-crazed couple per friend group.”
