Page 158 of The Head Game

August shrugged. “It isn’t your fault. I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just feel like you’ve dealt with so much shit because of me. Between my parents and the press, and your job and everything …”

“I like your parents,” August said. “They’re … maybe a little much sometimes but they care about you and I can’t blame them for that. Everyone should be lucky enough to have four people who only want the best for them.”

August’s own parents were a lot more hands-off at this point in his life but he knew they’d be a hell of a lot more involved if he’d had brain surgery. Maybe less meddlesome than Nico’s parents, but they’d worry about him too and want to do everything they could to make his life easier.

“Jules would make a total pain in the ass of himself if I was in your shoes,” August said.

“I’m just ready for them to go home,” Nico said with a sigh. “And I feel like an ungrateful asshole. It’s been great seeing them. I appreciate everything they’ve done but I am so ready to be on my own again. Well, you can stay. But I’d rather we didn’t have house guests. Sounds like they’re staying until around the new year though. I feel like I’m going to be stuck with them foreverrr.”

August laughed. New Year’s was only two weeks away. “It is amazing they’ve been able to take more than a month away from work.”

Nico shrugged. “Well, my mom, Isa, she runs a gallery. She works crazy hours usually but she can do a lot of the management virtually and she has good assistants on the ground in Amsterdam. Plus she, like, never sleeps so the time difference is no issue. Anika is the creative director for an art publisher, and my father is a business analyst for a big sports company, so they’re both taking a leave of absence. And Noor can do her translation work from anywhere.”

“It’s great,” August said. Although he already knew all that. He’d spent a lot of time in the hospital with Nico’s family while he was recovering. “They’re all incredibly lucky.”

“Yeah, runs in the family,” Nico said. “We always seem to land on our feet no matter what life throws at us.”

“Any chance I could borrow some luck?” August asked.

“Well, you are marrying into the family,” Nico said teasingly. “So I think that’s fair.”

A jolt went through August at those words and they both fell silent.

A few minutes later, August pulled into the players’ parking area of the rink, waving Nico’s badge to get through the gate.

They were greeted by a security guard at the door, whose face lit up when he saw Nico. “Oh, it’s great to have you back, we were all worried about you, Mr. Arents.”

“Aww, thanks, man.” Nico gave the guy a hug. “And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Nico?”

They spoke for a few minutes before Nico excused himself. He was quiet as they walked down the hall of the practice rink, but August knew he was disappointed because he wasn’t going to be allowed on the ice today, even for a casual family skate.

Nico knew it was too soon but he didn’t want to accept it.

August could understand Nico’s frustration but even the thought of Nico skating made August’s chest tighten with fear.

But August wouldn’t push. Nico would get there in his own time and August would do what he could to help when he did.

As they wove through the halls of the facility, August took everything in, noting the way everything was all done up in the green, black, and white of the team colors. It was an impressive space, with multiple rinks, and the team’s AHL affiliate, the Toronto Black Bears, also practiced there.

When August and Nico turned the corner, a loud, booming voice filled the air.

“Guys!” Matt Carlson waved excitedly. “You made it.”

“Did you think we wouldn’t?” Nico sounded amused.

“No. Just glad to see you.” Nico was engulfed in another big hug from his teammate.

Matt Carlson was entirely different off the ice than on it. He had a big, deep voice but the softness of his tone was such a contrast with his ferociousness on ice.

They’d gotten into it during games a few times, and early in August’s career, he’d called a game misconduct on Carlson, throwing him out during the third period. His answering glare had been thunderous and the words coming from his mouth would have made a seasoned official quake in his skates.

Though, to Carlson’s credit, he hadn’t used a single homophobic slur. The same couldn’t be said about everyone in the league.

Carlson greeted August like a long-lost friend. “Hey, good to see you again, buddy.” August was quickly engulfed in a hug too and he awkwardly patted the big man’s back.

Carlson slapped August on the shoulder as he pulled away and August had to brace himself or be bowled over by the force of it.

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