“Zee, baby, let’s go!”
I wrap my arms around him. “Holy fuck, we did it!”
We hold on for a moment before taking a second to look around the arena, where red, black, and white cover the stands.
Since Maddison got here five years ago, it’s been our mission to change the culture around this team. We’ve consistently made the playoffs but haven’t lasted long. We’ve been good, but we’ve never been great. This year though, this year we’re great.
And this year, we have a real shot at the Cup.
As soon as I open the door to the Maddisons’ penthouse, Rosie rushes in like she owns the place, just as she does every time she comes over here. She sniffs the couches and toys, looking for Ella, I’m sure, before she gives up and goes to Maddison for love instead.
“Hey, man. Where is everyone?” I close his front door behind me.
Maddison bops around the kitchen with MJ strapped to his shirtless chest as he prepares Logan’s birthday dinner. Bending down for a moment, he gives Rosie the attention she’s so desperately asking for.
“My parents had to swing by the office after the game, but they’ll be here soon, and my brother should be up any minute.”
Taking MJ out of the wrap my best friend is wearing, I grab a seat with him at the kitchen island as Rosie sits attentively next to Maddison, hoping he might drop something while he cooks.
“I told Stevie I was on the way. She should be up here soon.”
“Oh, she already came up. She left with Logan and Ella to go get their nails done as soon as we were back from the game.”
“Wait, really? She came by herself?”
I kind of assumed Stevie would’ve been intimidated to come up alone before I got here, knowing Maddison’s place is going to be packed with Logan’s friends and family soon. But at the same time, I love that she feels confident enough to do it on her own, especially around my people.
Maddison eyes me from across the kitchen island.
“What?” I ask.
“You do know that she and Logan have sat together at our home games for weeks now, right? They’re friends. And Zee, I hate to break it to you, but lately, Ella talks about Stevie more than she talks about you.”
“You’re lying.”
Maddison holds his hands up in defense. “Ella asks Stevie to do her hair at every game, and your girlfriend lets my daughter scroll through her pictures of all the dogs at SDOC. So, good luck beating that, my friend.”
Okay, I’m happy that my people like Stevie, but there’s no need for them to like her more than me.
Holding MJ in one hand, I pull my phone out and text Stevie with the other.
Me: I heard my niece might like you more than me. We can’t be having that, sweetheart.
Stevie Girl: Not my fault that I’m way more fun than boring Uncle Zee.
Me: Boring? I’ll show you boring.
Stevie Girl: Can’t wait.
The smile on my face is painfully big as I stare at my phone screen.
Me: What color are you painting your nails?
Stevie Girl: Go hang out with your best friend.
Me: What color?
Stevie Girl: Why does it matter?
Me: Because I’m going to be seeing them wrapped around my dick later. I feel like I should have a say.
Stevie Girl: You’re ridiculous.
I shoot Stevie a hundred dollars via Venmo with the caption “Red, please,” but she denies it, sending it right back.
Stevie Girl: You’re not paying to pick my nail color.
I send the Venmo payment again.
Stevie Girl: How much do you think it costs to get your nails painted?
Me: I don’t know. $100? Red, please.
Stevie Girl: Fine, this will cover Ella’s too.
Me: Make sure she knows her favorite uncle paid.
Stevie Girl: Don’t worry, I already told her it was from me.
Me: When you get here, I’m gonna have to take care of that attitude you have today.
Stevie Girl: Looking forward to it.
Me: You drive me insane, and I miss you, so hurry up.
Stevie Girl: Ditto to the drive me insane part. And the miss you part. Great game, by the way. I’m so proud of you.
Me: Thanks, Vee. I can’t wait to celebrate with you.
“So,” Maddison says, pulling my attention back to him. “Have you told Stevie you’re in love with her yet?” He tries to hold back his knowing chuckle but fails miserably as his chest begins to vibrate with laughter.
“Don’t,” I warn, not ready to think about the word that has scared the shit out of me my entire adult life.
“Where’s Lindsey? Logan said she never showed up at the game.”