Page 4

Adam smacks me on the back as I choke on my drink.

“Groomsman?” I mutter between coughs.

“You can’t honestly be surprised?” He sizes me up with his giant blue eyes.

But I am. I feel close to him, but I typically have a different definition of “close” than other people do.

“I’d ... I’d be honoured to be a g-groomsman.” I finally let the words out after a full minute of silence.

Adam beams as I take another sip of my drink to hide the colour rising in my cheeks.

Fuck. This means I’ll have to stand up in front of a ton of people. I know that sounds like something I do all the time as a goalie, but when my mask is on, it’s just me and my net. Everything else fades away.

“I know how you feel about crowds and people, so I’m grateful you’re willing. It wouldn’t be right without you,” Adam says sincerely .

“You and Paige are two of my favourite people.” The words are simple. I’m not great at flowery speeches, or talking in general. He knows this, so he’d better not ask me to give a toast. Only the best man and maid of honour do that. Suckers.

That sucker has been me, many times, most recently a few years ago when my dad got remarried. For the fifth time. And for the fourth time, I gave a speech. I hated every second of it. If anyone in attendance realized I used the same speech from wife number two, they didn’t say anything.

I can do groomsman. Show up at events, wear a tux or a linen suit or, hell, down shots at the bachelor party. That I can do.

And besides, it’s Adam and Paige. I meant what I said—they’re two of my favourite people. I wish they hadn’t had the miscommunication and lost those two years, we all do, but I think it made them stronger. Seeing them together does something to me.

I’m happy for them, but it awakened this uncomfortable emotion I haven’t felt in a long time. This longing I don’t care to name.

Mateo comes barging into the bar, excited and jumpy. Adam turns to his best friend, the sucker who I’m assuming will be the best man. Either him or one of Adam’s two brothers.

From what I know of Adam though, it won’t be Liam—they aren’t close—but it could be Simon.

“Best man!” Adam jumps up to hug Mateo. Well that answers that question. “What are you doing here?”

Mateo searches the crowded bar, noticing me quickly. He smirks.

“Richard,” he says, rolling the r and dragging out the sh sound in my surname in a terribly fake French accent. I nod once in greeting.

This is how most of the team addresses me, although not with as much flair as Mateo. Adam is one of the few who calls me by my first name.

“Someone get this guy to stop being so chatty,” Mateo says, snickering. It seems he’s a few beers deep.

“What’s up, Mateo?” Adam cuts him off before he gets off track.

“You have to come with me now!”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because I said so. And as the best man, I’m the boss,” he tells us with far too much confidence.

“Sorry, man, Paige is the boss,” Adam corrects him.

“Actually, Leah is probably the boss’s boss,” Mateo concedes.

Adam thinks it over and then slowly nods. “True.”

I’ve heard about Paige’s sister but haven’t met her yet. She doesn’t come out to any of the gatherings Adam and Paige host. Apparently, she doesn’t love socializing as much as Paige does. Paige always apologizes for her absence, but it makes sense to me. I’d skip parties too if Adam didn’t trick me into going. Last time he told me I could hang out with the dogs, which sounded great to me. Little did I know their dogs love people and crowds.

“So, is Leah demanding I meet her somewhere?” Adam asks.

“Yup!” Mateo says brightly.

Adam glances at me apologetically. “Sorry, man, looks like our date is being crashed.”

I chuckle, not minding at all.

Mateo turns to Adam. “Did you ask him? ”

“To be my groomsman? Yeah, and then you rudely interrupted the romantic moment we were having.”

“Good, then he gets to come too.”

“Do I have a choice?” I rub the back of my neck. As much as I dislike being in the spotlight, I also don’t love it when people talk about me as if I’m not here. I’m hard to miss, taking up half the table we’re sitting at.

“Unless you want to incur the wrath of Leah—”

“You don’t,” Adam interrupts. “Trust me. You don’t.”

Sighing, I drop some cash on the table and the three of us head out. Waiting outside is an Uber, but it’s so small there’s no way all three of us are going to fit.

“I figured this might happen.” Mateo sighs. “I called for two, but the other one is taking a little longer. Do you mind if Adam and I go ahead? We’re already a bit late.”

“Late for what?” Adam asks but he’s ignored.

“That’s fine. I have my truck. Text me the address.”

“As long as you swear not to tell Leah I ruined the surprise.” Mateo looks so serious I’m starting to get a little nervous about meeting Paige’s sister.

“Scout’s honour,” I say, raising my hand in salute.

“Were you actually a Scout?”

“I was.”

“Okay, good. I’ll text you the address.”

Adam and Mateo wave as they get in the car and take off. My phone pings a moment later .

Mateo Ruiz

Surprise engagement party at the Vancouver Harbour, we’ll be on the big giant houseboat to the left.

Fuck.

I hate being on the water. Give me ice any day, but being on a boat? Dealing with my motion sickness and a bunch of people I don’t know? Sounds like a nightmare I had once. I should’ve asked for more details before agreeing to be a groomsman.

My black truck is so enticing, practically begging me to drive in the other direction. When I was shopping for vehicles for the first time after getting my first paycheque from the NHL, I’d wanted to buy a cool sports car. Something super sleek. But it turns out, when you’re 6’5” and two hundred and twenty pounds, sleek sports cars are not comfortable.

There’s no flying under the radar for me, so I went with the biggest truck I could find. It’s practical too—all my goalie gear fits in the bed and doesn’t stink up the cab.

The engine roars to life and I cautiously pull out into the street, aware of the size of my truck. Making sure I have enough room, I head to the harbour. We aren’t far, thank goodness, and the usual Vancouver traffic isn’t too bad. I arrive in good time and find my way to the houseboat.

I swear the damn thing rocks as soon as I step onto it, immediately making me feel a little queasy .

The captain gives me directions to the party happening on the open top deck. I ignore her attempts at flirting, pretending I’m needed elsewhere and can’t stick around for chit-chat. In reality, I have no interest in her.

When I turn to walk down the dark hallway leading to the stairs, a wave must crash against the boat, rocking it. I try to keep my feet steady, pretending I’m on the ice, and engage all my stabilizing muscles as my stomach roils.

I try to focus on anything else—the beige walls, the wooden railings beneath my grip, the people lingering at the base of the stairs. The sensation of the rocking boat hits me again, except this time I don’t think the boat moved. I’m unsteady on my feet as I take slow steps and pin my stare to an unmoving spot.

It doesn’t do any good, though, because I stumble, crashing right into a petite woman with short hair carrying a small child.

There’s no way to stop the collision no matter how hard I try. Dread replaces the nausea because I know I could seriously hurt them. Instead of bowling them over, I instinctively reach out and wrap my arms around the pair as I stumble into the wall, protecting them both from my impact.

“What the fuck?” the woman gasps, startled by my sudden attack.

“S-Sorry,” I mutter as she disentangles herself from me.

“Did you have to grab us?” Her brows are pinched over bright green eyes. Green like poison with the way she’s glaring. She looks ready to kick my ass.

“I’m sorry,” I say without stuttering this time .

The baby—toddler? Hell if I know—doesn’t start crying. He watches me with big eyes, the same colour green as the woman’s.

“How about next time, you don’t crash into unsuspecting people,” she says, checking over who I assume is her son to make sure he’s okay.

It takes a lot to get a rise out of me but somehow, with only a few words, this small woman has gotten under my skin faster than I thought possible.

My temper flares to match hers. “W-What the fuck was I supposed t-to do?”

“Watch your language around my kid,” she snaps.

I think my mouth drops open. But she ... Did she just—? She’s already turning away from me, but there’s something about her I can’t shake.

Who on earth is this woman?

I may be shy, but I’m not a pushover.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought a baby on a boat.”

She whirls. If I thought she looked angry before, it’s no match for the daggers she’s shooting my way now.

Oh fuck.