“She’s lady,” Maxim says, eyes severe. “Do better.”
His stony expression is too much. A laugh works its way out of me, and my apprehension fades.
The guys join in, laughing and hooting. Even JJ relaxes a little.
With a deep breath, I step toward the door. “Okay, boys. Let’s go see what this lady can get pierced.”
The whole group of them are staring at me when I step out. JJ looks like he’s ready to lunge across the room and take me far, far away from here.
I have to hide my giggle.
Jarred is bouncing on his toes. “What’d you get, Angles?”
JJ scowls. “Don’t answer that.”
“Cool it,” Bray coughs out.
Bobby jumps to his feet and rubs his hands together. “C’mon. We’ve all seen each other’s.”
JJ full-on growls. “I will literally pull your eyes out of their sockets.”
I snort. “No one is being violent. And none of you are seeing what I got.” I grin. “But don’t worry, I’m officially a Bolt now.”
“Not quite. Bray’s gotta tattoo you first,” Royal says with an easy shrug.
“I’m down for that,” Jarred says.
“You not official yet,” Maxim says matter-of-factly.
When Jarred’s face falls, I wrap an arm around him. “It’s okay. I’ll wait and we can get ours done together.”
His little puppy dog face lights up as we wander toward the street.
“Are we going out for another round?” Bobby asks, pulling out his phone, probably to see where the rest of the guys ended up.
“No,” Bray, JJ, and I say in unison.
Bobby shrugs. “Your loss. Who’s coming with?”
Maxim shrugs, and Royal and Jarred nod, so we say our goodbyes, and when they go left, we go right, heading back to the hotel.
Beside me, JJ’s movements are stiff. He so badly wants to ask what I pierced, but knowing him, he doesn’t want to say anything in front of Brayden.
“Are you excited to get back home?” I ask Bray when I can’t stand the silence anymore.
He shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter to me where I am. Home, here. Either way, I’m playing hockey and that’s all that I really care about.”
“But you like the tattoo thing?” I hedge.
He nods. He’s got a baseball cap pulled low on his head.
Even though he’s been playing pro for more than a decade, he hasn’t quite adjusted to the fanfare that comes with a career like ours. I barely notice the press because I grew up surrounded by the media and attention the Langfields attract. JJ’s almost had it worse. While my dad is well-known in Boston, JJ’s mom’s name is known worldwide. She’s the biggest fashion icon of the last, like, four generations. Our fame has nothing on that of our parents.
But Bray didn’t grow up in the circus the way we did.
“You think that’s what you’ll do when you retire?”
He whips his head to the side, glowering. “I don’t want to think about that.”
