“Mhmm.” His gaze sparkles like diamonds. He’s been in a weird mood all day. I half wonder if it’s because it’s my birthday. Or maybe it’s because my brother is in town and got us these killer seats for his game. I was surprised when he messaged me, telling me he’d lefttwotickets at the door for me and my boyfriend. Cam leans back in his seat, stretching to put his arm around my shoulders. His hand hangs off my left shoulder and I reach up to grab it without thinking. The touch instantly calms my nerves. Players skate by and I catch Alex looking back behind the penalty box, his gaze finding mine.
“What the fuck?” I mouth, shooting him a judgmental glare.
He has the audacity to shrug and act like the fact he just punched a guy in the jaw isn’t a big deal. But I guess for him, it’s not. He’s angry on the ice. Even more so after his injury.
He just got cleared to play, so you think he’d be less likely to get into a fight considering the last one nearly ended his career with a serious knee injury.
I don’t miss the smirk on his face and he nods, turning back around to watch the game from his time out.
True to Alex’s personality, he gets back out on the ice as if nothing’s happened and shoots the winning shot. The crowd cheers, including my boyfriend next to me, who still doesn’t even like sports.
“Yes!” he says with a grin. “I knew they’d win.”
“You knew nothing,” I tell him with a grin of my own as we rise from our seats, and he doesn’t answer me, just keeps grinning.
My phone goes off and I check it, seeing Alex’s text to come back to the side entrance the players use.
“Alex wants to say hey,” I say. “You good with that?”
Cam nods. “Yeah, of course.”
I lead us to the side entrance, leaning against the shadowed wall. A million people walk back and forth, but no one shoos us away. My brother comes out a few minutes later, still in his Reading Rioters jersey, his dark hair sweaty and sticking to his face.
“Hey kid,” he says with the biggest smile. Victorious.
“Hey,” I say casually. His gaze flashes to Cam.
“Cameron,” he smiles. “Saw your Dior ad on the way in here. Should I be asking for an autograph now or—”
Cameron chuckles. “If you ask me to sign your abs, I’m out.”
Alex pouts. “You’re no fun,” he rolls his eyes, flashing me a knowing look.
“I got something for ya,” Alex says, pulling a small gift bag from behind his back.
“What?” I can’t hide the surprise on my face.
“Well, I mean, technically Mack pitched in too, so…” He coughs, his voice cracking just the slightest. It is kind of dry in here.
I take the package from his hand.
“Open it,” he pushes.
I carefully pull out the paper and reach my hand in the bag. I pull out a bottle.
Of vodka.
“Keep going, there’s more!” Alex presses, his excitement uncontained. I reach in to pull out a plastic bottle of cranberry juice and my cheeks heat. Cameron laughs, genuinely and deeply.
“What? What’s so funny?” Alex says, but his smirk tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing. Asshole. “There’s one more thing,” he says, clearing his throat.
Cam grabs the bottles from me so I can pull out the last item. A plaque that says. in very fancy lettering,Always Take The Shot.
I can’t help but smile.
“That’s from Mack.” Alex says, his voice strangely soft. “He said you’d get it.”
I nod, trying to keep my emotion in check, because fuck, he was right.
