Page 74 of Broken Ice
He wasn’t scared of losing this anymore. This wasn’t temporary.
Or so he thought.
***
“I’m winning at life,” Beau crowed as he hit another green light on his way to the arena.
On the other side of the line, Noah laughed. “Are you ready to lose at hockey next month?”
“Oh, did the schedule change? Are we not playing you anymore?” Beau mused.
“You’re going down, bro. We’re gonna murder you.”
In the background, Sammy’s voice sounded, thick with his Swedish accent. “Murder,” and then, “Is Emilio there?”
Beau rolled his eyes as Noah huffed, “God, you’re obsessed.”
Beau, because he was a dick and his brother needed to clue into the unnatural level of jealousy he had regarding Sammy, said, “Emilio is really looking forward to seeing you, Sammy.”
“Urgh,” Noah grunted as Sammy giggled a, “Me too.”
“Anyway,” Beau said as he got to the car park. “I gotta go. I’ve got practice with my superior team.”
“I miss the days you hated the Manatees.” Noah sighed.
“No, you don’t. Love you, bro. See you soon.”
The call dropped.
Beau strolled into the arena. It was going to be a good day. He could feel it in hisbones.
Freddy had asked him to meet him at their usual spot. They’d get a coffee in the canteen before going to one of the upper levels, catching up while gazing over the ice.
It was nice. Beau wasn’t a cliquey person—if he liked something, he wanted to be joined by as many people as possible—but he didn’t mind having this one thing only with Freddy. The guy was earnest and vulnerable and pretty sensitive—it had eased Beau’s initial resistance to how intense Freddy could be.
“So,” Freddy said when they’d picked up their drinks and were seated in the nosebleeds, ice looking like a diorama below them. “I’ve got your last present.”
Beau’s eyebrows hiked. “Oh, last one, huh?” he teased, a little relieved. The gifts were, by far, the most awkward part of their friendship, in Beau’s humble opinion.
“Yeah. I, uh…” Freddy’s cheeks were red as he handed him a glossy box like what ties or expensive sweaters came in.
“Thanks, man. Damn, this is fancy. You better not have spent a lot of money on this. I’ve told you—”
“No, I didn’t. Promise.”
“Okay.”
Beau opened the box. There, lying innocently on white tissue paper, was a grey scarf. He picked it up, feeling the soft material in his hands. It was probably cashmere or something like that.
“Oh, this is nice.” Beau normally didn’t wear shit on his neck—even high collars made him feel stuffy—but he wasn’t about to say that out loud.
“Yeah?” Freddy asked.
“Yeah. Thanks, man.”
Freddy was still staring at him, so Beau wound it around his neck. He fought not to wrinkle his nose—the scarfstanklike the Alpha. Jesus Christ, had he put it on before giving it to him? Beau didn’t think they were the kind of pack-friends that touched enough to scent, so this was fucking weird.
Freddy grinned. Beau managed to return the smile even though the smell was really getting to him. He liked Freddy, but the guy wasn’tpack. He should have been more careful—stored it so it didn’t get so scented.
