Page 34 of Break Out

“Yes, sir,” I say, shaking Arthur’s hand.

He grins back at me. “Well, I’ll be,” he exclaims, glancing between me and Aubrey. “You’ve been holding out on me, Aubrey girl.”

Aubrey chuckles, her cheeks turning pink. “Sorry, Arthur. I didn’t realize you were a fan.”

Arthur shakes his head at his stepdaughter before turning to me. “You’ll have to indulge an old man and tell me what it’s really like to play in the NHL.”

I nod my head, doing my best to hide my shock. Arthur is not the kind of man I expected to see Aubrey’s mother, Beatrice, with. Neither Beatrice nor her late husband—Thad Senior—ever asked me about hockey or took an interest in my friendship with their daughter. Arthur’s friendliness is refreshing and makes me think that maybe this brunch won’t be so bad, not if I have someone to talk to while Aubrey is busy.

Beatrice steps around us. “I need to borrow my daughter. Help yourself to the buffet, Brody. Come on, Aubrey Elizabeth, we need to make the rounds since you got here after everyone else arrived.” She claps her hands before turning around, setting off toward the tables of people eating.

Aubrey visibly blanches, her shoulders dropping. I touch her arm, silently asking if she’s okay, and she gives me a small smile. I wish I knew why Beatrice treats Aubrey the way she does. I don’t remember it being this bad when we were in high school. Beatrice was always a bit of an ice queen, but I thought that was because she didn’t approve of our friendship.

Aubrey never really talks about her family except for the odd random comment about one of her sisters, and maybe this is why. I never stopped to think about it because it’s not like I have the best relationship with my family either, well, aside from my older brother, Brantley.

“Come on. Let’s go get some food,” Arthur says, pulling my attention back to the present. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He pats his stomach and chuckles before gesturing for me to follow him.

“You okay if I go with him?” I whisper, leaning closer to Aubrey.

“Yes. I’m being summoned anyway.” She gestures toward her mom, who has stopped in the middle of the ballroom and is watching us.

“Uh-oh, someone’s in trouble,” I mumble. “I’ll save you a seat.” I brush my lips across her cheek and turn to hurry after Arthur, who has already made it to the buffet.

We fill our plates, and Arthur guides me to the closest table and introduces me to everyone. “That’s Chet—Clara’s fiancé—and you know Thad and Devon, I assume.” Arthur points at each of them in turn, and they all look up from their food and nod. “This is Brody Thompson, Aubrey’s boyfriend.”

Devon greets me with a smile before turning his attention back to his daughter, who is sitting in her stroller next to him. Thad offers a simple hello before going back to his phone. Chet makes an odd face but doesn’t say anything.

“Hi,” I greet them before glancing around for Aubrey. She’s standing with her mom and sisters in the corner talking to a woman who I’m guessing is the wedding planner. I wonder if I should make a plate of food and bring it to her. Fuck her mother’s whole they get to eat last.

I glance over at Thad scrolling on his phone with an empty plate in front of him. Why isn’t he over there with his sisters? He’s a Fairchild too. Isn’t he a host? Or does her mom only delegate the role of “hosting” to the women in the family? Whatever the reason, it fucking drives me nuts.

“So, what do you do?” Chet asks, breaking the awkward silence that has prevailed over the table since we sat down. “Are you a scientist like Aubrey?” he asks before turning his attention back to his plate.

I take a bite of waffle, chewing and swallowing before answering. “Nah. Not smart enough. I play hockey. For the Storm.”

I lift my head in time to catch his reaction. His fork stops midway between his plate and his mouth, and he lifts his head, meeting my gaze, his brows furrowed. “Like the Orlando Storm? The NHL team?”

“Yep,” I say, putting another bite of waffle in my mouth.

“And Mrs. Fairchild is okay with you, a hockey player, dating her oldest daughter?” he asks after a few seconds of silence.

What the hell?

That’s when I notice that everyone is watching the conversation in rapt silence except Thad, who hasn’t looked up from his phone.

Arthur clears his throat and meets my gaze before saying, “I’m not sure what you’re implying, Chet, but that borders on being rude. Aubrey is a grown woman. She can date who she chooses. I could say the same to you. Mrs. Fairchild is okay with you marrying her youngest daughter? You’re only a lawyer.”

I mask my laugh with a cough before going back to my brunch.

“Well . . .” Chet says.

“I think that’s enough,” Thad pipes up. “Not that it needs to be explained, but Brody and Aubrey have known each other since high school. If there’s any relationship we should be questioning, it’s yours and Clara’s. You haven’t been together a year and you’re already getting married. Hmmm.” He punctuates the last part of his statement by setting his phone on the table and glaring at Chet.

Well, shit.

Chet lets out a huff but thankfully lets it drop and goes back to his food. Thad nods at me and goes back to his phone. I sigh and continue to eat, occasionally answering questions Arthur asks me about hockey. He at least seems genuinely interested. Thad even joins the conversation at one point.

I’ve finished my plate and am considering a second when Aubrey sinks into the chair next to me.