Picking the Corners

By Ashley Broome

Nate Cross of the Vancouver Vikings would do anything for his best friend Roman Orlyck, including taking him in after a devastating concussion. Until Roman moved in, Nate didn’t realize how much he cared about him. 

With the season looming and his linemate forced to sit out, Nate struggles between friendship and wanting mor

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Broome
• Release date: Dec 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781642046779

Book preview

1

There’s a lot more to hockey than most people think. It isn’t only training, skating, shooting the puck in the net and fighting on ice. Hockey is a lifestyle that pulls you in and makes you it’s bitch. You can ask anyone who has become a fan or has been a lifetime fan. Hockey was a way of life. That was why Nathan Cross, an American, was pulling out the last pumpkin pie from the oven for Canadian Thanksgiving dinner. It wasn’t right having Thanksgiving on a Monday. No matter how many times team mates showed up at his doorstep with food in hand, it still felt wrong. He’d never admit it out loud because Roman would mock him endlessly for it but he kind of liked having Thanksgiving twice a year and it wasn’t just for the food. If people couldn’t make it to the Canadian Thanksgiving, then they would show up to American Thanksgiving and no matter who showed up they always ended up having a blast .

Nate had the radio up loud as he worked. He never liked a quiet kitchen, and it kept his energy up when he was stuck waiting and watching the clock. That was why he didn’t hear Roman sneak in and almost cost him a piping hot pumpkin pie to the floor. Jesus, Roman.

Nate set the pie carefully on the counter and ignored the Roman’s laughter. He was considering taking Roman’s emergency key away. He had enough of Roman sneaking into his house at odd times just to scare him out of his skin. Nate narrowed his eyes at Roman’s clothes. Thanksgiving wasn’t traditionally done in sweats and a hoodie, not since Nate had been hosting it for the team that hadn’t any plans at his house. It didn’t even look like Roman had ever attempted to brush his dark brown hair. Please tell me you brought actual dinner clothes with you.

Roman ran his fingers through his dark hair and pinned Nate with hazel eyes. I’ve got clothes with me, your majesty. I figured you’d want help with the last minute stuff and I didn’t want to offend you with a stained shirt later. If you don’t want my help, I can go find something to watch while I wait for everyone else to show up.

Who are you trying to impress?

No one, but I know you, Roman flicked at the flour covering Nate’s nose. You wouldn’t know how not to make a mess while cooking and I thought I’d help out.

I don’t hear you complaining about the mess when you eat my food. Nate moved to the fridge and handed Roman a bowl of prepared stuffing. Put that in the pan and in the oven.

Seriously? I think I could have handled the stuffing on my own.

You couldn’t last year. Nate reminded him with a bright smile.

At least I remember what people are bringing every year and don’t have to rush around and get someone who never cooks to make the stuffing. Roman shot back as he searched the cabinets for the pan that Nate never used unless there was company over.

I’m not even Canadian so I shouldn’t have to remember what everyone is bringing. Why we even do this at my house makes absolutely no sense. You know that, right? Nate grumbled as he took stock of everything he had prepared. There wasn’t too much time left on the turkey and it was in the bottom oven so there was no reason for Roman to go near it. He had the top oven all to himself. The rest of the side dishes and deserts would be brought by the guys who didn’t have families close by to spend the holiday with. Everything was accounted for and the food would come out on time. He needed to get dressed and clean the bathrooms. He knew he forgot to do something yesterday.

Whoa, where are you going, bud? Roman asked. You can’t leave me alone in here. You know what happens when you leave me alone with food.

You can resist. I believe in you, Nate said before he pointed out what he had planned on doing. And I’m going to finishing cleaning and then take a shower.

You’re worse than my mother. Roman rolled his eyes.

Well if you want to scrub toilets and let me take over putting the stuffing in the oven, then I’ll be happy to switch with you.

Nope, you’ve got it. I’ll just finish up in here and go get ready.

That’s what I thought. Nate shook his head as he turned out of the kitchen.

Roman mouthed the words at Nate’s back as he turned to watch the oven. There wasn’t much do once everything got into the ovens. He glanced around the counters and let out a sigh at all the dirty dishes. He should probably help Nate clean those up before he panicked about a dirty kitchen. He chuckled to himself as he filled up one side of the sink with sudsy water. There were only two people who could get Roman to voluntarily wash dishes. His mother was one of them and Nate was the other. Maybe it was because they were the only two people who cooked and put up with his shit on a regular basis. Anyone else could do their own damn dishes.

Roman was almost done wiping down the counter when Nate burst in with wide eyes. He wasn’t even looking as he spoke, The fucking dishes! People will show up and think-

Roman finished the thought off for Nate. "They’ll think that your house looks great and they’ll remember why we have the real Thanksgiving here at your house. Even though you’re from New York."

Right, Nate nodded before gesturing over his shoulder, I’m going to go shower. You should get changed and fix whatever that is going on on top of your head. Olle and his kids are always early.

Roman saluted Nate’s retreating form sarcastically. He did a quick check on the turkey and stuffing before deciding it was safe to leave the kitchen without risking disaster. He grabbed his clothes from where he’d draped them over the couch and headed up to the spare room he had claimed as his own since the first season they played together. Hell, he hadn’t even made the bed the last time he stayed over. He took a moment to make the bed presentable, just in case Nate gave the rookies a tour of the place before fixing his hair and getting changed into navy slacks and a light blue shirt. He was fixing the buttons on his sleeves when he realized he forgot his tie. He’d just have to borrow one of Nate’s again. He snuck into Nate’s closet and grabbed one.

You still need to bring back the other three ties you stole. Nate’s voice had him spinning in a circle and slamming his elbow into the door frame. He rubbed at the bone furiously trying to soothe the ache. Fuck, Nate. I didn’t take any of your ties. Only this one.

Right. Nate didn’t believe that for a second. He was standing in his towel, drying his hair and waiting for Roman to admit he had stolen his ties but that would never happen.

Get dressed you idiot. Roman muttered. He looped the ends of the tie over each other as he skirted around Nate and out of his room.

The doorbell rang and Nate stuck his head out of his bedroom door, Go let them in.

Sure thing. My house, my responsibility right? Should I bring them on the grand tour as well?

Way to be a team player, that’d be great. Nate grinned wide as he disappeared back into his room and locked the door to finish getting dressed.

Roman jumped the last two steps of the stairs and shoved his feet into the dress shoes he always left in the foyer of Nate’s place before opening the door. Olle was currently losing a battle with his two sons who were hanging off of his arms like monkeys. He abruptly lowered his arms, laughing when the boys stumbled before gaining their balance. I thought this was Nate’s house. Shouldn’t he be the one opening the door?

Well you see, Roman started as he allowed them inside, he needed my help.

Oh I bet. Olle didn’t believe a word he was saying. Where’s the wine?

"Oh, it’s one of those holidays? Roman grimaced as he led Olle through the kitchen to the wine cooler. He gestured towards it. Take your pick, he hides the good stuff."

They’re all good. Nate corrected as he strode through the kitchen and towards the ovens. He pinned Roman with a look, You’re pushing it close.

What? Roman asked. He pressed his lips together as he watched Nate get his oven mitts from the drawer and pulled the stuffing out. Oh, I forgot.

Like he does every year. Olle shook his head as he picked out a couple bottles of wine to set out for others. He poured a glass for himself and let out a satisfied sigh. I love having Thanksgiving here. I don’t have to listen to Lisa complain that I never do enough now that we’re divorced.

Nate kept his mouth shut on that one. He learned not to touch anything concerning Lisa and Olle’s divorce that finally happened last season. It was messy in the press but it was worse behind closed doors. He had a feeling that what Lisa had felt like he wasn’t doing enough of was giving her money. She already got one hell of a handout from the divorce and continued getting spousal and child support even though Olle always had the boys. It was rare when Lisa did. Olle loved her though even after all the shit she put him through and no one could say anything about her without facing the wrath of their captain on the ice. It wasn’t his place so Nate kept his mouth shut and listened whenever Olle needed someone to.

Well, she doesn’t have my number, and she wasn’t invited. Feel free to have as good of a time as you want. I’ve got plenty of room for you and the boys if you want to hang and if not, Roman has a car big enough to fit their car seats. Nate offered without consulting Roman. It wasn’t like they wouldn’t do anything for each other. That’s what family did for each other.

The doorbell ringing saved Nate from saying anything