Across the room, Jake tried to convince Evan to do karaoke. Evan refused with his entire body, leaning away from the stage.
Hog and Rhett claimed a booth near the door, sitting on the same side. Rhett's head rested on Hog's shoulder, both of them looking exhausted and happy and completely, disgustingly in love.
Jake and Evan. Hog and Rhett. Juno and her girlfriend.
Everyone had their person tonight. I was… everybody’s extra.
The thought floated through, light and almost curious. Not bitter—noticing.
I wondered what that was like. Having someone who looked at you the way Hog looked at Rhett during that pitch. Like you were the only thing in the room worth seeing.
Probably pretty great, honestly.
I finished my drink, fished out an ice cube, and crunched it between my teeth. The cold was sharp, snapping me back to the present.
The bartender called the last round. I shook my head, left cash on the table, and headed for the door.
"Pickle!"
I turned. Hog had extracted himself from Rhett long enough to catch my eye.
"Good game tomorrow," he said. "Get some sleep."
"Yes, Dad."
He flipped me off, grinning. Rhett laughed into his shoulder.
I pushed out into the night.
Outside, Thunder Bay was doing its thing—cold and dark and smelling like woodsmoke and the slow slide into winter. The kind of cold that crawled inside your jacket and made itself at home. I shoved my hands in my pockets and started walking.
My apartment was twelve blocks away. Far enough to clear my head. Short enough that I wouldn't freeze to death. Probably.
The streets were quiet. A few cars, a dog barking somewhere in the distance, and the crunch of my boots on salted pavement. The echo of the celebration still buzzed under my skin.
I thought about Hog's face when Rhett said, "My partner." That look. Surprised and proud and a little bit wrecked, like he still couldn't believe someone had chosen him on purpose.
I thought about Jake kissing Evan in front of everyone. No hesitation. No apology.
Must be nice.
The thought wasn't sad, exactly. It was wonder. The way you wonder about places you've never been. What's the weather like there? Do people really live like that?
Maybe someday I'd find out.
I kicked a chunk of ice off the sidewalk. Watched it skitter into the street, spinning under a streetlight before disappearing into shadow.
For now, I had hockey. I had my team. I had a game tomorrow, a season ahead, and a life that was loud and messy and full of people who tolerated my chaos with something that looked a lot like love.
That was plenty. That was more than enough.
And if sometimes, late at night, walking home alone through the cold, I let myself want something I couldn't quite name—
Well.
That was just between Thunder Bay and me.
Chapter two
