Chapter nineteen
Luka
Benjileadsmetowardtheir two-story, cottage-style home. The front porch is weathered and creaks under our heavy steps as we make our way through the door. Stepping over the threshold brings back memories of visiting my grandparents when I was younger. They lived in the country, and their porch wrapped all the way around their house. I’d spend hours riding my little red and blue three-wheel bike in laps around it while my parents watched from the porch swing.
Like their place, Reid’s house holds the charm of the generations that came before him. It’s clear in the warm wooden floors, and the old, mismatched picture frames lining the sage-green wallpaper, that this is not just a house, it’s a home.
“Wow,” I say before I realize the word has escaped my lips.
Benji stops guiding me forward. “Yeah, it’s a little run-down, but—“
“It’s great,” I say, turning my head in his direction. “Did you grow up here?”
He nods.
“It was our grandparents’ place, then our parents’, and now . . . well, I guess it belongs to all of us.”
“Damn right it does,” Reid says gliding past us. “I’ll get started on dinner, shall I?”
“Not too much chili this time, please,” David calls from the room on our right, and Benji leads me that way. I linger a little, watching Reid walk up the hallway, his ass picking up in perfect rounds with each step. I should have booked a room, then I could be all up in that. I try to shake away the thought before I get a boner and have no way to hide where my brain is.
Reid’s house isn’t exactly the type of place I expected a hockey god to live. Guys like Reid are on good money; most of the players in his shoes are living in fancy modern condos. I used to see them post photos of themselves in their big stark living rooms and wonder where they put all their stuff. I mean, I like a clean and organized room, don’t get me wrong. In truth, I’m a little neurotic when it comes to cleanliness. Cosmo loved that about me in college; it meant that our shared bathroom was always spotless, and he never had to lift a finger to get it that way. But this place feels like a home. My parents liked to move. Dad being in construction often meant that the houses we lived in were ones he was fixing up to flip. I didn’tmind. Well, not really. But it was nice to spend a few years just in one place in college. I guess that’s why I’m struggling to look for my own place now. This is the first time Dad’s bought something new that needs zero work. It’s not a place they plan to flip; it’s where they want to live so they can watch my games and be close to me. I want that too. If I’m being completely honest, I want what Reid has. A house that feels like a home, like I belong.
Benji sits on the worn brown-leather couch and taps the seat beside him.
“You can sit here,” he says, like I’m the new kid getting on the school bus on my first day.
“Don’t be weird. You can sit wherever,” David says, shoving his brother’s leg on his way past.
“I’m not being weird,” Benji replies, his cheeks brightening just a little, and he turns to me. “He’s teasing me because I used to think you were hot.”
“Used to. Does that mean you don’t anymore?” I ask with a chuckle.
The blush deepens and he opens his mouth, but no words come out.
“Relax, I’m messing with you. I know I’m hot. Do you think we should offer to help Reid with dinner?” I ask but David shakes his head.
“Dad Bro’s got it.”
I take one last lingering look up the hall and then sit beside Benji. Not close enough that he’ll get the wrong message, but not so faraway that he’d worry about whether he offended me or anything. I don’t want things to be weird between Reid’s brothers and me. Especially if Reid and I keep spending more time together, we’re bound to be around his brothers more too. Fuck, would he even want that? I mean, he has to want to at least be friends, right? If he’s brought me here to meet his brothers and have dinner with his family. He could have just taken me to a hotel to hook up, but he didn’t. Except, maybe that’s exactly why he brought me here. Maybe he has zero intentions of hooking up with me ever again, and this is his subtle way of saying, “Let’s just be friends.” Urgh. I don’t want to be just friends. I need to stop stressing and just wait to see where this goes.
“So, why Dad Bro?” I ask. The question has been lingering in the back of my mind since I first heard them say it at the pizza place.
“Cause he’s our brother but sort of our dad too, like he had to pretty much raise us,” Benji explains.
“I get that. What I meant was, why not Bro Dad? He was your brother first, right?”
Benji frowns and looks at David who’s wearing a similar expression, then both of them smile and laugh. It’s so similar to Reid’s smile, except theirs don’t send my gut into a swarm of butterflies.
“I guess we didn’t think of that. Huh, maybe we should call him Bro Dad,” David says, but then, like they’re reading each other’s thoughts, they both shake their heads.
“Nope, too late to change it now,” David laughs.
“It’ll be Dad Bro forever,” Benji adds, and then he switches on the television. While the rest of the house so far has been homey, and I guess sort of old-looking, the television is anything but. It takes up eighty percent of the wall, and when he switches on the replay of our last game, it’s almost like I’m sitting on the bench watching it in real time.
Reid pops his head around the corner, and we all look up.
“Garlic bread, yes or no?” he asks and both boys cheer.
