14
RAFF
I wasn't used to life sailing along without any hiccups, stumbles, or falling into a huge chasm of grief. So, I was waiting for something bad to happen. It hadn’t arrived yet, but I was anticipating it knocking me over when it did.
Thorne and I had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. We talked at work when our schedules overlapped. He'd find me in the cafeteria after the team had cleared out or I'd swing by the kitchen pretending I wanted to check out the menu.
He apparently didn’t believe my excuses, and a couple of days ago, he’d handed me a container of leftover fried rice, saying, “You don’t need a reason to come here other than wanting to say hello.”
I’d accepted the fried rice which was a favorite of mine, though I’d never mentioned it to Thorne. Standing beside my fated mate—who didn’t know about mates or shifters, which was a problem I’d have to meet head on—I grinned and nudged his shoulder until one of the kitchen hands raised a brow and whispered to one of his colleagues.
We’d begun phoning and texting one another every day after Rupert and Thorne attended the game. I’d be in bed and Thorne would be usually putting a load of laundry in the dryer after Rupert went to sleep.
With the events of the day behind us, we chatted about his work and plans for the cafeteria. I spoke of my upcoming schedule and how being with Frosthaven Cutters had changed my life. Thorne would always pepper the conversation with anecdotes of what Rupert had done or said that day. The more he spoke of him, the more my nephew reminded me of my brother.
While I couldn’t say definitively Rupert was a shifter, I was convinced our shifter genes had prevailed over the human ones. And I’d need to be around when he finally met his wolf, especially if by then, he still wasn’t aware shifters existed.
But I was getting ahead of myself, and some of that was at the wolf’s urging.
“Who got you interested in cooking?” I could make basic meals, but I wouldn’t say I could cook.
“My grandmother taught me, but she was old school and didn’t use a cookbook or a measuring cup. And after high school, I went to culinary school.”
I started mentioning Bodie, just little tidbits to test how Thorne would accept learning even more about my brother.
“Bodie was great at negotiating and persuading. He got us both out of sticky situations at school when we hadn’t done our homework or had forgotten to bring an assignment to class.”
Thorne laughed when I related some of my brother’s antics.
But it turned out we were both comfortable with silence, and I brought up the expression “an angel passed.” He said how much he’d always loved it and had started using it with Rupert. It was something, other than DNA and fate that linked all three of us.
My wolf also enjoyed the quiet periods, having spent so many years grieving.
The one thing that irked me, and I understood why we hadn't moved forward, was I hadn’t informed my parents of Rupert’s existence. But that couldn’t happen until my nephew had been informed about them, and he had to be comfortable meeting them and being part of their lives. He was the priority.
Once my parents and in particular Dad learned they had a grandson, their lives would change. Knowing there was a piece of Bodie still living might crack open that grief that had Dad in a headlock.
And when I did tell them, I wanted Thorne at my side, hopefully as my marked mate. My being mating and them meeting Rupert might eventually lift those gray clouds.
We'd also talked about Rupert and how I wanted to be more than the cool guy who played hockey in his eyes. I’d never been cool, not in my eyes or anyone else’s, but Bodie had the word etched on his soul from birth. And I was the one who’d given my nephew the flamingo that still scented of my brother. I wondered if Rupert sensed how special the toy was because he also carried the same scent.
But today was game day and we were playing on home ice. The arena was loud and the energy was different from away games. Our fans were packed in, and the noise during warmups was something I'd never get tired of.
Thorne was here. He'd texted me a photo of his seat an hour before puck drop. It was one with a decent view set back a few rows. From the opening faceoff, everything went well.
My skating was loose, my reads were clean, and I was a half step ahead of every play instead of chasing them. The puck kept finding me, and I moved it before the defense could close the gap. My linemates stepped up too. Passes became crisper, timing tightened, and by the second period, we were operating as if we'd been playing together for years.
I picked up an assist in the first period on a play where I put it right on Angelo's tape. He buried it and pointed at me as the bench erupted. Kai made an incredible save in the second that kept us level. He sprawled across the crease and got a glove on a shot that I had no idea how he reached.
The noise level was deafening as the fans and our bench reacted.
In the third, I stripped the puck off their top forward along the boards and fed it cross-ice for a goal that put us up by two. Coach kept me out longer, so he liked how I was playing.
Axel caught my eye during a stoppage and gave me a nod. This was respect.
Angelo dropped onto the bench beside me between shifts. “Whatever you're doing differently, keep doing it.” He squirted water into his mouth. "You're smiling during games now. It's unsettling.”
I told him to focus on his own game, and he laughed and hopped over the boards for his next shift.
