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SEVENTEEN

“What’s Dabbs’ favorite flower?”

Bellamy squinted at Ryland from across the table in the Zervudachi family kitchen, which was loaded with enough dishes to make it groan in complaint. “How the hell would I know?”

Ryland didn’t look impressed. “Favorite chocolate?”

“Again, why would I know that? Why do you want to know that?”

“I want to send him a bouquet and chocolates.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “All of that just to get into his pants?”

“I’m not trying to get into his pants,” Ryland growled. “I’m trying to get into his heart.”

Bellamy grimaced.

“Yeah, that sounded better in my head. But you know what I mean.” Ryland hunched his shoulders. “I just want him to notice me.”

“He’s noticed you.”

“Not for the right reasons.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Ryland’s expression of disbelief was almost comical. “Asshole. You jumped me .”

“Like, five years ago. Get over it.”

Ryland’s gaze went flinty, and just when Bellamy thought he was going to get jumped, Ryland nodded. “You know, I think I might actually like you.” With that, he strolled away, nose in his phone, which displayed a flower shop’s website.

Christ, he was fickle.

The Zervudachi farmhouse was packed with people for Sheila’s birthday party, both friends and family alike. When Jason had said they were having a party, Bellamy had assumed an intimate gathering.

But this was nothing short of a festival, complete with a bouncy castle in the basement for the younger kids. Bellamy had been introduced to so many people that he was having trouble remembering names.

The only ones he remembered were Sam, Jason’s cousin—Bellamy had briefly met them the night he’d invited himself to play darts with Jason and his friends—and Hayworth, Jason’s best friend. Hayworth was here with his new beau, Felix, and Felix’s two daughters, who’d disappeared with Jason’s nieces into the bowels of the house.

Jason had also disappeared, leaving him with his sister’s husband, Rob, but he’d been called away to help bring in more ice.

Bellamy was serving himself some food—the table was loaded with every finger food in existence—when the couple walking through the front door made him do a double take. “Grandma? Grandpa?” Leaving his plate behind, he joined them in the foyer. “What are you doing here?”

“Sheila invited us,” Grandma said, draping her rain jacket over the staircase banister with the others, given the coatrack looked like it was about to keel over with the weight of twenty-plus jackets. “What are you doing here?”

“Jason invited me. Sheila’s his stepmom.”

“Ah.” Grandpa nodded sagely. “Your new guy, huh? Where is he?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” Bellamy said. “I’ll introduce you once I find him. How do you know Sheila?”

“We’ve made lots of new friends since moving here, son.” Grandpa looked around. “Now, where would we find Sheila?”

“She was in the living room last time I saw her.” Bellamy waved in that direction, and his grandparents headed that way, but not before his grandma planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

“You.” Brie appeared next to him and wound her arm around his. “I’ve been looking for you. Let’s chat.”

“Okay,” he said. Not that he was given a choice as she steered him back into the kitchen. He eyed his discarded plate longingly while she practically frog-marched him to a quiet corner next to the sink—the quietest place in the house.

“I talked to your agent,” Brie began. She leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. “I like Maggie. She’s sweet as maple syrup on the outside, but underneath, she’s kind of a thug. She’s my kind of people.”

“Uh . . .”

“Anyway, I know Jason told you that his syrups won’t be ready anytime soon, so that sponsorship angle won’t work.”

“But I wasn’t angling for a sponsorship. I just wanted to help him sell his syrups.”

Her features softened, making her slightly less scary. “I get that, but the truth is we could sponsor you, and if we did, it’d be a mutually beneficial relationship. Moon Meadows could be one of your local sponsors, but instead of hawking Jason’s specialty syrups, you’d be promoting our existing products. It’d be mostly social media, like posting a photo of you pouring our maple syrup over your pancakes.

“Alternatively,” she continued before Bellamy could comment, “we forego official channels entirely and use your relationship with Jason as the hook.” She frowned and cocked her head. “Okay, that sounded bad when I said it out loud, but what I mean is that as soon as a photo of you and Jason as a couple goes public, it’ll do the work of a sponsorship for us. You’ll endear yourself to local fans because you’re dating a local small-town boy; people will get curious about Jason, dig up where he’s from, and that will lead them here.”

Wrinkling his nose, Bellamy leaned against the counter opposite her. “That makes our relationship sound so transactional.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. That’s just the facts.”

“I’m not dating Jason for his connections and neither is Jason dating me for mine.” He ran a hand through his hair, wishing Jason was here for this conversation to provide some perspective.

“Of course not,” Brie agreed. “But this is no different than other professional athletes who date. A hockey player starts dating a children’s book illustrator, and he gets nods for being sweet and supportive, and everyone learns her name and her sales go through the roof.”

Huh. When she put it like that . . .

“The same could be said about you and your grandparents,” Brie went on. “Post a photo on your Instagram of yourself and your grandparents, telling people you’re visiting them in Maplewood, and boom. Instant local connection.”

“Right, but?—”

“My biggest concern, though,” Brie barreled on—did she always force her way through conversations like this?—“is that since you and Jason are dating, if Moon Meadows sponsors you, that could be seen as a conflict of interest. So I propose we don’t sponsor you. But if you’re serious about wanting a local sponsor, Moon Meadows partners with dozens of small Vermont businesses—we sell their products in our farm shop. I’d be happy to get in touch with a few. And we’ll see what we see.”

“That’s... Thank you. That’s really nice of you to offer, but you don’t have to do that. Technically, that’s Maggie’s job.”

Brie gave an easy shrug. “But I can open doors.” She patted him on the chest as she moved past him. “I’m going to get something to eat. Sorry I made your relationship sound so clinical.”

“That’s okay,” Bellamy muttered absently as Jason emerged from wherever he’d been.

What Bellamy felt for him was anything but clinical. It was far-reaching and scary and wonderful, and it made his skin tingle delightfully. It made him want to crawl into a hole and hide, yet it also made him want to crawl into that hole with Jason so they could cuddle together as the world went by.

Whatever the future held, Bellamy wanted Jason in it.

“Sorry I disappeared on you.” Jason dropped a quick kiss on Bellamy’s lips. “The bouncy castle deflated.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Damn. Did the kids revolt?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, slightly wild-eyed. “Kind of.”

He was disheveled. His T-shirt was askew, he had a stain of some sort on one jean-clad knee, his hair was a little wild, and he was—unfathomably—missing a sock.

He’d never looked better.

Bellamy tugged him forward until Jason collapsed against him, then he kissed him for all he was worth. Jason groaned, and although Bellamy couldn’t hear it over the chatter of the other guests, he felt it vibrate through his chest.

“Well, hello there,” Jason said against his lips. His hands came around to grasp Bellamy’s butt, hidden by the counter.

Bellamy chuckled into his neck. “Hi.” He kissed the skin there and hugged Jason to him until he started to feel eyes on him. “My grandparents are here,” he said when he straightened. “Apparently they’re friends with Sheila. Can I introduce you?”

“Yeah. And maybe after we can take a walk to the meadow?”

Bellamy gazed out the kitchen window, where the rain came down in sheets.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Jason said with a grin. “It’s going to be muddy as hell.”

“Better idea: why don’t we stay in here where it’s warm and dry and there’s food?”

“Aw.” Jason pecked the corner of his mouth. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Not out there in the muck.”

“Hey.” Ryland popped up like a human jack-in-the-box, startling them both. “I’ve got to head back to Burlington. Our flight leaves in a few hours.”

“Do you need a lift back?” Jason asked.

“No, I’ve got a car coming. I just came to say bye.” He gave Jason a quick hug. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, sooner if we don’t make the playoffs.” Bellamy was about to tease him about that—Ryland had given him such a perfect opening, after all—when Ryland jabbed him in the chest. “You. Tell Dabbs to call me.”

Bellamy swatted his hand away. “I’ll do no such thing. You tell him to call you.”

“I’ve tried.”

“Try harder.”

Ryland rolled his eyes. “ Try harder, he says. That’s terrible advice. No wonder you’re not team captain. Team captains need to be wise.”

“You’re not team captain either, I might point out.”

“I don’t want to be,” Ryland called over his shoulder as he moved toward the door.

“Me neither,” Bellamy called after him. He was contemplating finally getting something to eat when Jason said, “What was that ?”

“That was us getting along.”

Jason pursed his lips skeptically. “If you say so.”

Ryland returned a moment later, sporting rain-splattered hair and a wet raincoat. Jason frowned at him. “I thought you were leaving.”

“My car’s not here yet. I took this photo a few minutes ago, and... What would you think if I posted it?” Looking uncharacteristically uncertain, Ryland handed his phone to Jason. Bellamy leaned closer to look at it.

Ryland had drafted an Instagram post. He was in the forefront of the image, smirking knowingly at the camera, and he was pointing over his opposite shoulder, where Bellamy and Jason were smiling at each other goofily. He must’ve taken the photo while Jason was trying to convince him to go outside.

He’d also added a caption to the photo.

These two decided to fall for each other while I wasn’t looking. My brother’s the best person I know, so if he’s decided Bellamy Jordan’s dating material, I guess he can’t be all that bad :) I will say this though: Bellamy can date my brother, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to give him an inch on the ice. Mark my words, the next Columbus vs Vermont game, my team’s taking home the win.

He’d added a bunch of hashtags, but Bellamy’s vision blurred, preventing him from reading further.

In Ryland’s own way, he was giving them his full support.

Bellamy and Jason hadn’t intended to come out as a couple until Bellamy and Ryland had smoothed things over, but Ryland had managed to do that with just one post.

“So?” Ryland pulled at his thumb nervously. “Should I post it?”

Bellamy exchanged a loaded glance with Jason, whose glassy eyes said he was just as affected as Bellamy. A silent message passed between them, and Jason nodded, passing the phone back to his brother. “Go for it.”

Ryland smiled, and rather than the taunting smile Bellamy had seen since college, this was heartfelt and genuine. “Cool. See you.”

Once he’d left—again—Jason took Bellamy’s hands in his. “Why don’t we go to the meadow now?”

It was still raining, but not as hard as it’d been a few minutes ago.

Bellamy gave up. Or maybe gave in, he wasn’t sure which. “All right. Lead the way,” he said.

Because wherever Jason led, Bellamy would always follow.