“Boys. The usual?” Chad, the owner of The Sin Bin, asks as we take our seats in the back of the bar. He drops coasters onto the hardwood table, even though old water rings are etched into the table.
Without any live music at this early hour, the bar is quieter than usual. The voices of happy patrons fill the silence. Neon signs flicker from the wall advertising different beers on tap.
“Please.” Noah slides into the booth across from me as Graham takes the empty space next to him. Instinctively, Noah puts an arm around Graham. I don’t even know if he knows he is doing it.
My heart pangs and I look away, collecting myself. I remember that comfort. Having someone to be with like that.
Which brings us to the entire reason we’re here.
“Ready for the season to start?” Chad asks, setting the drinks down in front of us.
I grab my sparkling water and take a long, refreshinggulp. “Vegas is a good team, but we’ve got a solid group of guys.”
Chad nods at me. “That’s what I like to hear. It’s going to be a great season for us.”
“Damn straight,” Noah agrees.
Chad tips his head in our direction before heading back to the bar.
The wooden, high-backed booths give us privacy, so people coming in and out of the bar don’t see us. I like it, considering I don’t need any prying ears listening.
“Alright, spill. Who was that?” Noah asks. “And why did she look like she wants to castrate you?”
“She didn’t look like she was going to castrate me,” I scoff.
Graham eyes me. “Really? That’s how I first looked at Noah. And believe you me, I wanted to castrate him some days. Still do, if I’m being honest.”
“Hey!” Noah interjects, elbowing Graham in the side. “You love me.”
“Not when you beat me at video games.”
Noah smirks back at him. “Can’t help it if I’m better.”
Graham points at the man next to him and eyes me. “See what I have to put up with?”
“See if I let you into the house tonight.”
Graham leans back in the booth and takes a long pull of his pale beer and shoots a wink in Noah’s direction. “You will.”
“As much as I like that idea,” Noah starts, “it’s not why we’re out.”
I laugh at the two of them. “Keep going. Don’t stop on my account.”
Noah turns his attention back to me. “Sorry, Graham likes to be distracting.”
“No, I?—”
His boyfriend cuts him off with a glare before turning his focus back on me.
“Who was that?”
“Harper. She’s my ex.”
“Why is your ex-girlfriend coming around the rink?”
It’s times like these that I wish I drank. Not that I can’t, but I don’t like to. I like a clear head for the girls. They deserve the best of me, and alcohol can cloud anyone’s judgment. One bad night a few years back taught me that.
“Ex-wife.”
