Page 35 of Unmasking Love (D.C. Renegades #1)

Aiden

Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot

“Young Gun, c’mon, put your phone away! We need a T.D.

or this Turkey Bowl is going to go into overtime and then the real turkey will not be ready for dinner.

” Felix yells as I pocket my phone. I just placed an order for Harper’s half-caf, shaken seasonal latte, with almond milk and an extra half pump of brown sugar syrup.

“You think I’m holding you back from scoring?” I ask. “I’ve been in the perfect spot for you all game but your throwing arm is shit and it never gets to me.”

Bryson gasps in surprise. “I didn’t know you were capable of such hurtful words.”

“Shut up.”

“He might be exaggerating, but not by much.” Duncan adds as he re-ties his sneakers. “At least you don’t have Crocs slowing you down.”

“Good point. Bing, dude, I told you, it was a shoes-that-tie, P.E. class, requirement today.” Felix scolds as he holds the football at his hip. “It is downright emasculating to see a Croc fly-up behind you when you’re making a run for the endzone.”

“At least I’ve gotten to the endzone you fucks,” Crosby says as he kick flips his Croc into the air in front of him. He holds his foot out and it slides back on almost perfectly. “Plus, I’ve got tricks to impress the ladies with.”

“What ladies?” Emmett asks. “This is Teamsgiving.”

“ Young Gun invited Harper.” Crosby sing-songs her name like this really is third grade P.E. class. Felix’s alarm sounds and we pause the game to go cook.

Last night when Harper told me she was spending the day alone I invited her to join us. I’ll admit I’m somewhat of a loner but on Thanksgiving no one should be alone.

Felix’s personal chef, Andre, prepped everything for our meal so all we have to do is reheat it.

The dishes are organized in the fridge by order of cooking time so the stuff that goes in the longest is at the font.

Andre also added post-its to each dish which are referenced on a printout of instructions.

He’s thorough.

I can’t tell if it’s how he is or if he knows he’s gotta be crystal clear for Felix’s sake.

“What’s that?” I ask as Felix takes the lid off a cast iron dutch oven with what looks like a seasoned head of cauliflower on it.

“This is,” he draws the word out while he leans over to read the post-it. “A chipotle cauliflower that will be roasted for 35-40 minutes at 375 degrees fahrenheit and then sliced lengthwise into steaks and topped with the vegan avocado pea crema in the fridge. Damn, that sounds delicious.”

It does. “Did you say it was vegan?” I ask because I expected to just pick at the sides today and not make any special requests.

“Yeah man. Everything except the turkey is vegetarian, at least,” Felix says, as he stays busy at the stove.

Emmett walks in and looks at my face. “Did you think we didn’t know?”

Know what? About my diet? Or the reason I eat the way I do?

When I don’t answer, Emmett continues. “It sucks that your medical history isn’t private but I admire you. Lesser men would have quit.”

“I was only sixteen, honestly I didn’t know that was an option.” Hockey is life.

“ You’ve been vegan since you were sixteen?” Felix asks.

“Yeah,” I admit with a shrug. I don’t have anything else to compare it to but I have built plenty of muscle from plant proteins and my energy levels are reliable.

“Maybe we all should do it.” Emmett shrugs as he pops a cherry tomato into his mouth.

“I’m no doctor or trainer but I don’t think it could hurt.” I offer.

“Well, tonight we’ve got a mostly vegan feast. Andre had an issue with using fake butter in the potato dishes but the sweet potatoes are vegan I think.

Let me check.” He sticks his head into the fridge and comes back out with a post-it in hand.

“Yep, the sweet potatoes have a ginger paste in them, no dairy or eggs.” He looks up at me.

“Did you think I’d invite you and then not give you anything to eat? ”

“I dunno,” I pull on the back of my neck. “Kinda. And, for the record I’m not exclusively vegan. I’ll eat eggs and cheese sometimes.”

“Yeah but you prefer it.” He shrugs as he puts the cauliflower into the oven.

“Thanks Felix. This means a lot.”

“You’re a teammate Aiden,” he looks up at me as the doorbell rings, “we’ve got your back just like you’ve got ours.

We take care of each other. And accommodating your dietary preferences is the least we can do.

” He finishes as he wipes his hands on a towel he has slung over his shoulder and walks to the door.

The nonchalance towards caring about me is disarming.

Not only did he notice I don’t eat meat, he told his chef to prepare a holiday meal in a vegetarian friendly way.

Now that I think about it, there have been more vegan protein bars stocked in the kitchenette at the practice facility, lately too.

And more vegetables available from the catered meals the team gets for us on the road.

I thought it was nice, I definitely liked the additional option s, but it never occurred to me they were because Felix had told the team to do it.

I don't tell many people about my preferences. Because the reason I eat vegetarian is for my cardiovascular health.

I’m not a person to preach about it or try to enforce it on others.

It’s a choice I’ve made for myself. My health. And sharing it means I’d need to start sharing my medical history too and I don’t want that changing anyone’s mind about me or my ability as a goalie.

Emmett admitted that he knew about my heart attack. And I think Felix knows. Does everyone? And they’re just okay with it? They’re not asking me questions or treating me like I’m fragile?

I’m so overwhelmed by the support from Felix I forgot about the doorbell ringing so when Harper laughs from the entryway I physically startle. I watch as she lifts onto her tiptoes and gives hugs to the guys with a tin of cookies in hand.

“Harper you didn’t have to bring anything,” Felix says as he opens the container and immediately the boys dive in. “Men! Control yourselves!” He yells as he shrugs Bryson and Crosby off his shoulders. Crosby pops a whole cookie in his mouth and chews with a smile.

“Sowy Cap,” he says around a mouthful.

I watch Harper, watching them. Her eyes twinkle with delight at the grown men acting like children. I stand from my stool and step down the hallway towards her and she turns and lays her gaze on me.

I feel it hit me like crashing through a plate glass door.

Her face breaks into a smile that shatters what was left of my control and I lengthen my stride to reach her.

“Hi,” I say as I step up to her.

“Classic opener,” Crosby stage-whispers.

“Get the fuck outta here,” Felix scolds and drags the boys to the living room where the football game is on. Harper laughs.

Bef ore she can speak, I cup her face in my hands. “Hi, again.” I say leaning in for a much needed kiss. The connection immediately ripples through me and I can breathe easier.

“Am I the only girl here?”

“Yeah, I didn’t realize it was just the single guys hanging out today. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, I think for once Wes is going to be jealous of my Thanksgiving day.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I usually spend it alone or with whoever my mom is dating, and their family.” A shadow passes over her face and I want to know more but now isn’t the time. “And Wes goes to Yanksgiving where a gaggle of gay men get together to dance and drink margaritas.”

“I’m not sure what’s on the docket for the rest of the afternoon here but knowing Felix there will be fun and games of some sort.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Young Gun, bring Harper in here. We’re gonna play Twista.” Bryson calls from the living room where the guys are huddled around the coffee table on the wrap around sofa.

“Do you mean Twister?” I ask as I usher Harper forward with a hand to her lower back. I can feel the warmth of her skin through her thin sweater on the pads of my fingers as it radiates up my arm to my chest.

“Nope. It’s Twista. We invented it.” Crosby informs us.

“Is it complicated?” Harper asks as she sinks into the cushion. She perches on the edge of the seat instead of relaxing back.

“Nope. It’s basically Twister but we changed up the actions on the spinner,” Felix shares as he opens the game box.

“I guess I’ll learn as we go.” Harper shrugs.

“We’ll go in alphabetical order so there are no arguments. Young Gun, you’re up first. ”

“Why can’t we go by nicknames?” Crosby, or Bing, whines.

“Because we haven’t donned Harper with a nickname yet so it would be unfair.” Felix scolds and I stand.

“Here’s what you do. First, you spin the spinner.” Felix demonstrates. “It must stay flat on the table, no trying to influence the results by holding it in your hand.” Felix says as he puts the Twister mat on the floor. “Then you follow the directions.”

“I can’t help but think that Young Gun has a distinct advantage here.” E.T. points out.

“Why’s that?” Harper asks and I look down at my feet to hide my small smile.

Bryson clears his throat. “Well, goalies can um, stretch out really far.”

“Aiden can do the damn splits,” Emmett says as he cracks his knuckles.

Harper looks up at me and I smile. “That does feel like he has the upper hand.”

“May the best man win.” I chirp as I step over to the spinner. The dial lands on what would normally be right foot blue but instead the instructions are one foot on blue and pretend to vacuum.

I step over to the dots on the floor and balance on one foot and move my arm back and forth and then stop.

“No stopping!” Felix yells as he passes the spinner to Bryson.

“What do you mean no stopping?” I ask as I continue to mime vacuuming the carpet.

“It means you can’t stop your action until your next turn.” Crosby says as he pops a handful of sour patch kids into his mouth. Felix mumbles something about ruining his dinner by snacking before the meal.