“I guess so.”
The guys give me shit all the way out of the arena. Broadway is packed with people as we make the short walk to The Sin Bin. Seeing as how it’s our usual spot after home games, fans tend to come here. But Chad, the owner, always reserves space in the back room just for us.
We wave at him as we duck into the back room and order a round from the waiting server.
“First round is on me,” I tell the guys.
“Damn. Killer game and buying drinks? Someone’s in a good mood,” Jasper says.
I stretch my legs out, crossing my arms over my chest. “What can I say? It was a fucking great game.”
And after this I get to go home to my kid and Stevie? Yeah, it’s been a good day for sure.
“Sorry for the delay, guys; it’s been a busy night.” Chad drops off our drinks. “But I can’t complain. When you win, they come out in droves.”
“Guess we need to keep winning then,” Graham says, raising his glass in cheers.
“I’ll drink to that.”
I sip on the beer as the guys rehash the game. It’s something we always do together when we go out. We started doing it when we were losing as a way to try and figure out how to improve.
Now? It’s nice to see that we’re doing well.
Graham elbows me in the side as the guys keep talking. “How are things with Caleb going?”
“Great.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “I love seeing his personality start to come through.”
“Think you’ve got a little hockey player on your hands?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Way too soon to tell. I’m just happy when he’s happy.”
“Such a dad thing to say.”
I point a finger at him. “Hey, just wait until you and Noah have kids. You’ll be just as sappy.”
“Not until we’ve done a few more things together,” Graham tells me.
“Do I even want to know?” I quirk a brow at him, taking another drink of my beer.
“I meant winning a cup together, you dick. Head out of the gutter.”
I throw my hands up. “Hey, you took it there, not me.”
“That’s a change for you,” he says.
“Dick.” I flip him off.
“Aww, are you two being mean to each other?” Noah goads.
“Just talking about when you two have kids,” I tell him.
“Not before we win a cup,” Noah says, rapping his knuckles on the table.
“Sounds good to me.” I laugh, looking around for our server. Based on the noise filtering back here, the bar is packed. “I’m going to go grab a water. Anyone need anything?”
Heads shake as I head into the packed main room of the bar. It’s wall-to-wall bodies. It makes me thankful we have our own space to relax after the game.
Squeezing my way through the people, I flag down one of the bartenders pulling beers.
