“Ahh, no.” He scoffs. “No, that’s not who I meant.” I hold my breath, waiting for the,I meant you, idiot, but maybe he notices the sudden rigidity in my posture, or the lack of breathing, because he moves on with a chuckle. “How are you enjoying your time with the Bears?”
Sighing in relief, I wriggle in my seat, body relaxing. Well, relaxed for me. “I was certain I’d have a heart attack within the first week, but the boys have grown on me, and the fixed nature of the hockey world suits my need for routine.”
Brady nods thoughtfully. It’s obvious he wants to ask more, but he’s so kind, and empathetic he doesn’t want to be nosy or overstep. “Do you think you’d hang around if Coach asked?” he asks eventually.
“As the favorite son-in-law, don’t you already know the answer to that?”
“No, but I figured he’s heading in that direction. I don’t think he would have asked you to help out in defense otherwise.”
I’m distracted when Cory does some kind of booty drop-bounce-thingy. “Do I what?”
“Do you think he will ask? Do you think you’d accept?”
“Oh.” I blink away the vision before me, and turn to Brady. His smile is bigger than the boner my pants are reining in. “He has already, actually. I’ve partially accepted, ‘cause yeah. It’s a huge opportunity. But it’s also a pretty full on gig, and I’m not sure I’ll have the availability he needs with Dylan. Even when he goes back to his day services, he’ll be home by four and someone needs to be there with him.”
“One, that’s awesome. About the chance of you staying. And two, is that what your dad did? Stayed home with Dyl?”
A wave of suppressed grief rolls over me. “He did, and he did a better job of it than I ever will. He was amazing, Brades. Everything he did had a reason, every moment an opportunity to learn. He was so determined to give Dylan the chance to live independently one day, he’d take an hour to do the dishes if it meant Dylan could inspect every plate, bowl and fork. Stack it just how he wanted, then pull it out and start again. I’ve tried to do the same, but I just don’t have the patience. Even when I do, I don’t have a fucking clue if I’m doing it right.”
“To be fair, James, there’s not many that would. Your dad sounds incredible, and was probably always worrying about what would happen when he was no longer around, like a lot of aging carers do. I think he’d be really proud of you and Faith.”
“Maybe, but Dyls is our big brother. We didn’t really have a choice.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong. You know Troye?”
“Troye the boy who looks at you and Quinn like you both created the earth?” He blushes again, and smiles so purely I can’t help but glance at Cubby.
“Yeah, him. Well, his moms adopted him when he was a kid after his own parents ditched him. Blood means nothing. Blood can run. Showing up, being trustworthy, sacrificing part of yourself even when you’re scared and exhausted, and don’t know what the fuck you’re doing. That’s what you’re doing. That’s what makes a family.” He then points to Lucas, who looks more uncomfortable here than me, as he snatches away the beer Sam recieved from the boob-mug giver. “A team, too. That’s why I’m sure Coach will ask you to stay.”
I can’t help but wonder if sneaking around with Cubby outweighs all the positives Brady kindly appointed to me.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re wise for a blonde jock?”
“Yup. Coach did yesterday, actually. I thought he was being sarcastic, but now you’ve backed him up I’ll take it as the compliment he intended.”
“Who are we complimenting?” Red-cheeked and puffing, Quinn slides between me and Brady, wrapping her arms around his neck, while Cory does the same—minus the snuggles—between me and the arm of the sofa.
“Obviously me and my dancing,” he says with a wink directed squarely at me. “That’s why we’re here. Come dance with us.”
“By us, do you mean them?” I point to Sam who has a new partner in Cherry.
“What the fuck?” Cory’s up and dragging me with him before I can laugh as intended.
“She’s a big girl, Cub. I’m sure she can handle herself.” As I say that, she slides her hand around Sam’s waist and pulls him closer. He reciprocates and they’re now pressed so tightly together there’s boob squishing involved.
“Yeah, well I’m sure she’s had too much to drink, and that Sam is a great guy, but a complete slut with a big secret.” Pulling up beside them like an agitated mom in a school pickup line, he greases Sam off while forcing himself between them. “Hey guys. Look. James is dancing.”
I am not dancing. I am standing completely still. Arms crossed over chest. Frowning.
Seeing this, Cory’s big eyes widen, and his head tilts, and his bottom lip drops. He’s silently begging me to boogie and because I am a weak, uncoordinated fucking fool, who would do anything for this kid, I do. I have no idea what this noise is, and I’m a step or ten behind the beat, but my feet are stomping and my shoulders are shrugging and Cory is smiling.
He’s not the only one.
“You are without a doubt the oldest twenty-something I’ve ever met, and I know Lotte.”
“Thanks,” I reply uselessly to Quinn, because her attention is already back on Brady who looks almost as awkward as I do while she gyrates against him. His unease is short lasting though, the open adoration of her expression, is eagerly reciprocated with one hand over smoothing over her ass, the other cupping her jaw. I can’t take my eyes off them, and it’s not in a creepy,let’s watch the hot couple make out,way.
I’m envious.
