Page 26 of Bro Code

Riley was about to enter his late twenties, which was right around the time Korean parents started worrying that their kids weren’t getting married yet. To be fair, it probably wasn’t only Korean parents who did that. He supposed he should be grateful they were so eager to see him marry a man. They could’ve been completely against it.

They talked for fifteen more minutes. Mom grilled him on how things were going with Rick Gallagher, and Riley guiltily lied and told her everything was great. Rick was the first agent he’d had who hadn’t been vetted by her first, and he couldn’t bear to admit he may have made a mistake. Dad asked about his performance: was Montreal figuring out what the issue was? Riley told him they thought it was a micro-injury and that the data team was very professional.

Louis’ face popped into his head as he said that, and he nearly choked. Yes: professional. That was the word. A professional cock sucker.

“Oh, my little boy!” his mom said, forcing that image out of his head. “I don’t like to think about you being injured, Adeul!”

“I know, Mom,” he sighed. “But injured is better than the alternative. If it was psychological it would be way more difficult to fix.”

“Yes, I know. And have they definitely ruled that out? It’s definitely not a stress problem?”

Riley’s stomach clenched and he got that closing-in feeling again. Had they ruled it out? What if they were wrong? What if they never figured it out?

But he’d talked to the psych. She’d said he presented fine — obviously he was under strain from the media and the trade, but that was normal. Had Riley downplayed how nervous he was about the trade? Maybe a little. But she was a pro — she would’ve spotted that if it was something to be concerned about, right?

“Yeah, they seem pretty sure,” he said.

“Well, that’s good, I suppose,” said his mom. “But I still don’t like to think of you injured. My little boy.”

He wasn’t sure why she still felt it necessary to call him “little”. He was little: he’d always been the smallest guy on the ice, and even now he was barely a hundred and sixty pounds on a heavy day. But he didn’t need to be reminded of that. He used to get pretty nervous about it, and being nervous on the ice was a surefire way to fuck things up. Definitely didn’t need anything else doing that right now.

By the time he hung up it was dark outside. He laid the phone down on the comforter beside him and tipped his head back to the headboard and closed his eyes. The quiet of the room rang in his ears.

He loved his parents. He really did. He knew they just wanted to see their son doing what he loved.

He just hoped this wasn’t the last season they’d get to see him doing it.

CHAPTER NINE

Louis

“Pull the thing!”

“What thing?!”

“The – thing! The thing right there.”

“This?”

“No, that!”

Louis held up the rope in his right hand. “This?”

“Yes!” Riley heaved on the wooden steering thingy. “Pull it!”

“Pull it where?”

The third and final day of team-building was going about as well as a car crash. It was a beautiful morning – clear sky, crisp breeze, the white sun glittering on the lake – but Louis would have rather been literally anywhere else.

He tugged on the rope Riley had pointed at, and the little white boat they were struggling to maneuver rocked a bit. Riley looked up at the sail, then ahead, to where the rock they were trying not to hit was dead ahead and getting closer.

“Is that seriously as hard as you can pull?!” he demanded.

“I’m pulling as hard as I can!”

“We’re gonna crash!”

“You’re the steering guy!” Louis glared at the wooden stick in Riley’s right hand, which was attached to the back of the boat somewhere and did something Louis didn’t understand.