“Me?” Jacks asked, looking alarmed but game for whatever was about to happen.
Erik stormed across the room with the inexorable force of an avalanche beginning its tumultuous tumble.
Tyler stepped between them, arms spread wide. “Whoa, whoa, Erik, buddy, maybe we start with a handshake? A nice, normal, non-intimidating handshake?”
Erik looked at Tyler like he was a small and irrelevant obstacle, then gently but firmly moved him aside with one massive hand. Tyler stumbled into the desk.
“Erik,” I said, suddenly concerned. “What are you—”
“This is important,” Erik intoned, still advancing on Jacks. He had nowhere to retreat in the small office. “Veryimportant. Ancient tradition must be observed.”
Finn stepped forward now, his protective instincts kicking in despite his earlier approval. “Look, I don’t know what this is about, but—”
Erik moved him aside, too, just as gently, just asstubbornly. Finn found himself pressed against the wall next to the fallen motivational poster.
“Erik!” Mia tried next, moving to block his path. “Maybe we could—”
Erik picked her up by the waist, rotated her ninety degrees, and set her down out of his way. She blinked in surprise.
“Nobody can stop this,” Erik announced to the room at large. “It is written in the old ways.”
Benji, wisely, stepped aside and started recording on his phone.
Jacks looked around the room, first at Tyler tangled up with the desk chair, then at Finn flattened against the wall, then at Mia still processing being rotated like a chess piece—and started laughing.
“You know what?” he said to Erik, spreading his arms wide. “Do your worst.”
Erik’s face lit up like Christmas morning.
Without a word, the giant wrapped his massive arms around Jacks, lifted him clean off the ground, and planted what could only be described as the most enthusiastic, ridiculous, theatrical kiss in the history of professional sports directly on his mouth.
The room went dead silent except for the sound of Benji’s delighted giggling and the click of his phone camera.
Erik held the pose for a full five seconds, longenough for it to be absurd, then set Jacks down and stepped back, nodding once with deep satisfaction.
Jacks stood there blinking, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as though he’d been kissed by an overly affectionate Saint Bernard.
“What,” I said, “was that?”
“Ancient Viking ritual,” Erik said matter-of-factly, straightening his base layer like he’d just completed an important business transaction. “For welcoming new family members. It is sacred.”
“A Viking ritual? Seriously?” I repeated.
“Yes. When warrior brings home someone who makes heart sing like northern winds acrossfjords, clan must welcome them with kiss of brotherhood. It binds their fate to ours forever.”
Tyler, who had extracted himself from the desk chair, stared at Erik. “That’s the most elaborate bullshit I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“Is not the bullshit. Grandmother taught it to me,” Erik replied with complete conviction. “She was concerned with proper rituals. She said old ways must be preserved or spirits of ancestors would be angry.”
“Your grandmother was from Minnesota,” I pointed out.
“Minnesota has many Vikings,” Erik said without missinga beat.
“Those are football fans, Erik,” Tyler snapped. “They wear cheese on their heads, and I’ve never seen one of them riding a longboat across Lake Superior.”
Erik scowled.
Benji was now cackling, his phone still recording. “This is the best thing I’ve ever witnessed. I’m posting this everywhere.”
