“I don’t have a dog,” Victor snapped.
“Exactly my point.”
That got a huff out of Preston, who was sitting on his other side. He clapped Victor on the back hard enough to jostle his beer. Preston, who’d just retired at the end of the last season, had been all-in on joining them for drinks following their workout. He’d admitted he was having some separation anxiety after so many years on the team, so he made them all promise to invite him to social outings. As if they’d exclude him.
“Seriously, man. What’s with the funeral face?” he asked.
“We just wrapped up a solid practice. Preseason’s looking good. You should be riding high,” Tank added.
Blake and Rook were chatting amongst themselves across the table, drinking their beers, trash talking. The situation was a familiar one. Their group enjoying one of their post-practice dinners, followed by drinks. Fun, familiar, easy.
Victor wished he felt any of those things. Instead, his chest was tight. Like something was pressing against it from the inside, demanding to be let out.
Now, however, thanks to Preston’s question, everyone’s attention had turned to him, with Tank’s comment further piquing their interest.
Fucking awesome. Just what he needed. An audience to see just how fucked up he was. Typically, Victor was tight with these guys, and to be honest, there weren’t many secrets between them. In addition to being teammates, they were hisbest friends, like brothers to him. However, he hadn’t told any of them about the change in status between him and Belle.
The two of them had agreed to keep things on the down-low, but that had only been for Vivian and Pip’s benefit, neither of them wanting to confuse his little niece, or for her to say anything to his sister that might distract from her work. But they hadn’t explicitly said they couldn’t talk to their friends.
Regardless, Victor had kept mum, stupidly afraid that by talking about what was going on, he’d somehow jinx the budding relationship.
Or…well…whatever this thing between them was.
They hadn’t exactly given it a label.
Instead, they’d jumped from the nanny/uncle dynamic to temporary roommates/co-parents to lovers. All without a single fucking word about what that meant.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Viv’s coming back the end of next week,” he said, hoping that would distract them from his grumpy-ass face.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Blake asked. “I mean, I know you’ve missed her.”
“And with her home, you get your quiet house back,” Rook added, obviously recalling Victor bitching about Belle and Pip coming to stay for the summer. Jesus. June Victor had been a fucking idiot, because it occurred to him that for his entire life, he’d merely been living in a house. Belle and Pip had turned it into a home, and he wasn’t looking forward to returning to his quiet, solitary,lonelylifestyle.
“I do miss Viv. And I’m glad she’s coming home,” Victor said.
“Then what’s the problem?” Tank leaned his elbow on the table, angling his body toward him.
Victor hesitated.
This—this right here—was exactly what he and Belle had been avoiding. The talking. The naming of things. Because oncethey named something, it became real. And dangerous. And something he could lose.
He exhaled slowly. “I’ve…been seeing someone.”
The fact that four heads snapped toward him in almost-perfect unison would have been hilarious if it wasn’t so fucking sad. Victor didn’t date. Ever. And his friends knew it.
Preston blinked. “You’re what now?”
“Seeing someone,” he barked, a little more defensively than he intended.
Rook whistled low. “Well, shit. That’s new.”
“No kidding,” Blake added. “Last I checked, you were still swearing off anything that remotely resembled a relationship. Thanks to Amelia, the bitch.”
“Who’s Amelia?” Rook asked curiously.
“Victor’s ex,” Preston answered for him. Blake and Preston had been his teammates the longest, so they’d been around for the Amelia breakup. “She decided she couldn’t take the life of a hockey player’s girlfriend. Didn’t appreciate all the times we’re out on the road.”
Rook scowled. “Doesn’t sound like she was worth keeping.”