Page 134 of Icebound

“Fuck the team. I need you.” He snatches up a rock and, with a grunt, hurls it into the lake. The stone smashes into the water, shattering the dark surface. He watches the ripples grow until eventually, he sighs. “You know why I call you ‘old man’?”

“Because I hate it?”

“No. That’s not why.” He downs the rest of his whiskey and tosses the glass on the pebbles. “It’s because it’s what I used to call my dad before he died. Sorry it made you feel shitty, but I used to joke around with him like that before he…”

He presses his palms to his eyes. “Dammit. This sucks. I don’t talk about him because it fucking hurts, but it slipped out one day with you, and it felt like it was this small way to keep his memory alive, so I kept calling you old man, but you’re not old. You're the best guy I know, Tremblay.”

“Shit, Cruz. I didn’t know that.” My voice cracks, imagining Cruz, huddled over a casket.

We all know he lost his dad, but no one ever brings it up because he walks out of the room anytime someone tries to offer their condolences. Looking at his red eyes now, it makes me want to repair the bridge with my own father a little faster.

“Yeah, well, now you know, but I can’t talk about this because it’s too hard so we’re moving on, old man.”

“Alright, but you know I’m here for you, kid. Always.”

He throws another rock as he seems to think hard about his next words. “Everyone always brings up the stupid shit you did in your twenties, but you know what I always saw? I saw a beauty of a player.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. There are so many goalies who get pissed when they lose, and I get it, I do. You’ve got the weight of the crowd on your shoulders, but attitudes like that drag the whole team down and make for a losing season.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Exactly. You get that, and that’s why I wanted to sign with the Guardians.” With a grunt, he throws another stone. “I admire the hell out of you, but not for your skills. It’s because of how you handle the losses. You never let a loss follow you off the ice, and you never let it drag the team down. I know I’ve got a temper, but ever since my dad died…” He chucks another rock. “I’ve always tried to be more like you, Rhode.”

I swipe my burning eyes, glancing at Cruz to see him turned away like he’s hiding. That won’t work for me. “Come here.” I crush the kid against my chest in a fierce hug.

He stands there for a moment, but then Cruz grips me back, wrapping his arms around me just as tight.

“Listen to me, Micah,” I say in his ear. “I might not be on the ice with you next season, but I’ll always answer your call on the first ring. I’ll always give you advice on your slap shots and tell you not to get your mom a shake weight for her birthday. You need something? I’m there. You’re stuck with me forever because you’re my brother, and I love you.”

He sniffs against my shoulder. “I love you, too, Tremblay. Goddammit, I’m crying now. The last time I cried was at my dad’s funeral. I hate you.”

“Don’t worry, Patty’s sobbing by the campfire.”

“Look at us.” Cruz thumps his chest, pulling back. “Men being men.”

I lower my voice, making it overly deep. “We’re the manliest of men.”

“The definition of masculinity.” He hugs me again as his laughter fades. “I’m really gonna miss you, Tremblay. It won’t be the same without you.”

I pull back, gripping his shoulder with mock seriousness because we need to lighten this mood. “Alright, Cruz. It’s time I told you…”

He stares at me, expectant. Patty looks up from the campfire, and I wink at him. “None of us go commando for games for good luck. We’ve been lying to you all season because the veterans pulled that same shit on me.”

Patty bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach. Cruz’s mouth falls open, and he hooks his arm around my neck, wrestling me. “You’re such a dick! My ballsack’s all disgusting from the chafing!”

I fight him off, straight-up chortling. “Sorry, but we had to. You were too damn cocky when you joined the team.”

We make our way back to the campfire with our arms around each other, laughter binding us together. The hours slip away like our bottle of whiskey as we reminisce over stories.

By the time the moon’s high in the sky, my cheeks ache from grinning, and I’ve got a side stitch from laughing.

We’re silly drunk by the end of the night, so I leave my Range Rover and call Nina to pick us up. I feel like I’m floating, and I can’t tell if that’s because of the whiskey, or my decision, or my brothers, or Nina. From here on out, I want all her mornings and midnights.

She drives us all home, and I end the day exactly how I wanted—with her in my arms. Alright, fine, she’s straddling me on the couch.

Gripping the back of her thighs, I pull her forward until she’s grinding on my cock. Chicken’s watching from his cat castle, but I don’t care if he wants to be a voyeur.