1. Lucas

Chapter 1

Lucas

Last Christmas

With fresh snow falling and everyone’s breath turning to mist in the cold, I watched my little brother Bailey marry my best friend Kai. I never imagined seeing them exchange vows would hit me this hard, because I wasn’t swept up in romance or fairy-tale moments. But there was something about how Kai’s eyes lit up when Bailey slid the ring onto his finger, about how they looked at each other as if nothing else mattered. It wasn’t jealousy that I felt—just a pang of… something.

Of what, I couldn’t say.

As one of four boys—Callum, Duncan, me, then Bailey, the youngest—Bailey had plenty of choices for best man, and Callum had gotten the honor by default. He was doing an admirable job, standing tall and proud, as if he’d waited his whole life to usher his kid brother into marriage. I already had my role as shared best man—Kai’s. It was a title I co-owned with Paul “Holly” Hollister, current captain of the Albany Harriers, the team Kai had just retired from.

Holly was bright, loud, and always on, and today was no different. He flirted with everyone and made so many people smile.

Including me.

And, for some reason, whenever he smiled at me, it made my heart do strange things, as it had done since I first met him when we were both eighteen. I’d gone to the draft in Winnipeg with Kai, and the Harriers took him and Paul, or Holly as he was nicknamed for obvious reasons. I was thirty-two now… fourteen years in the making, but my affection, for want of a better word, for Holly got stronger with every interaction. I dated here and there when the mood struck me, but it always felt more like an obligation than something I wanted. I didn’t spark easily. With all three of my brothers now married, I sometimes wondered if I ever really would.

But then there was Holly.

It had started at the draft. He’d gone first round, the media darling of the event, and as a diehard hockey fan, I couldn’t help but be in awe of him—the boy the media had dubbed the savior of whichever team landed him.

From that moment, Holly became part of my world. At first, it was through Kai, given I was Kai’s best friend from small-town Vermont, and Holly was Kai’s best friend in the city. We shared the best friend title, and Holly became woven into my story through that.

Over time, though, things shifted. Holly wasn’t just the captain of the Harriers, the two-time Stanley Cup champions, the guy who’d led his team to back-to-back wins in his early twenties. He wasn’t only Kai’s best friend or the player who pulled in millions while dazzling the media with his bright grin and quick charm. He was… Holly. A guy who winked at me across the ice the second time he lifted the Cup, handed it off to Kai, and celebrated with a laugh that echoed in my chest long after the moment had passed.

Maybe the wink had been for me. Perhaps it had been for the whole family, sitting behind the bench and cheering for the team. But something had sparked that day, and I hadn’t been able to let it go since.

It never became anything tangible, not really. A few moments of gentle flirting here and there, nothing more than teasing smiles and stray glances that confused me about what they meant—if they meant anything. But it was enough to plant the seed, to make me start noticing things about him I’d never noticed about anyone else. The way he carried himself was confident but never cocky. The way his laugh could light up a room. He seemed to draw people into his orbit effortlessly as though he was the center of some unseen source of gravity.

And now, here at the wedding when I caught sight of him across the crowd, laughing at something Duncan had said, my heart leaped. It didn’t make sense. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about someone like Holly—a star so bright he seemed untouchable. But somehow, without me realizing it, I’d been drawn in, caught in his orbit. And now, I wasn’t sure how to untangle myself, or if I even wanted to.

But the man who’d come to the wedding wasn’t the same Holly I’d slowly fallen for. He’d still winked, flirted, laughed, teased Kai, and hugged Bailey, but there was something off in him.

Broken. Remote.

Was I the only one who could see it?

“Great wedding!” he’d shouted in my ear, already halfway to sloppy drunk, leaning on me, then moving on before I could answer, loud and showboating and grabbing everyone around him for a laugh. He was as smooth as ever in his Armani suit, polished to perfection, all show, and not much more, so where was the real Paul Hollister who made my heart skip and my cock go hard?

“What’s going on with Holly?”

I’d been asked the same question by way too many people, as if I was the knowledge keeper of all things Holly. Callum was confused when Holly swept Brooke from his arms and dipped her so low they ended up on the floor. Then Duncan told me Holly had scared some of the kids by making lion noises from the bushes. Finally, Mom asked me to help when Holly tried to limbo under the cake table, nearly causing the whole thing to fall.

I was the best man to Kai, not a watchdog for a drunken idiot, but still, I followed him at a distance.

“Always next to me, sexy!” he shouted at me again, then yanked me onto the dance floor as though he were possessed. I managed to wrangle him so we ended up at the edge of the room, far enough away from the bar that he couldn’t get another drink.

“What is wrong with you!” I whispered for his ears only. “Calm the fuck down!”

He laughed at me, then I couldn’t hold onto the slippery sucker, and he was away faster than the fastest fast thing.

By the time they’d cut the cake, which was still in one piece, Holly was already down several more glasses of champagne, laughing louder than anyone, avoiding me at all costs. I saw the stares he was getting. Some disapproval—how could he disrupt a cozy winter wedding? Some fondness—aww, he doesn’t do quiet or contained.

Holly was everywhere at once, larger than life. Except tonight, Mr. Entertainer’s laughter was too loud, his smiles forced, and it got so bad that Kai nodded at him and then me.

“Can you keep an eye on him?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he glanced over at Holly, who was now halfway through what had to be his fifth drink. “I’d do it myself, but?—”

“No problem,” I replied. I got it. Today was Kai’s day, and Bailey deserved every second of his attention.

“Any idea why he’s like this?” I asked, watching Holly stumble toward the bar again.

Kai shrugged. “Team’s not doing so well.”

“Right. The fate of the world,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Holly captained his team as if it were a matter of life or death, and I understood why he’d be upset with a few losses—well, a lot of losses. It took many zero points to be three points from the bottom of the league.

But to act out as if his whole world was falling apart because of them…

I went to the bar where Holly was ordering another drink. “I think you’re good for now,” I told him, reaching out to steady him when he swayed.

Holly turned, eyebrows lifted. “Lucas! Sexy man!” He slung an arm around my shoulders, and I could smell the sharp tang of whiskey on his breath. “Here to join the party?”

“Here to make sure you don’t ruin the party,” I said, peeling his arm off me. “How much have you had?”

“Not enough,” he grinned, a hard edge to his voice.

“Well, stop,” I said, nodding toward Kai and Bailey. “Remember them?”

Holly’s gaze softened momentarily, and he seemed to remember where he was. “Yeah. I’m happy for them. Just wish…” He shook his head, turning away.

“Wish what?” I asked before I couldn’t stop myself from stepping around him so I could meet his dark brown eyes.

My breath hitched at the emotion I saw there, and I wanted to hug him so badly. I was the guy who was always content on his own. The guy who watched friends fall in and out of love while he focused on work, family, and a handful of friendships that didn’t come with strings or expectations.

But here I was, staring at Paul Hollister, wondering why, tonight, when he was acting like an asshole, I was still there with this tug in my chest.

“Wish what, Holly?” I asked again, hearing the softness in my voice.

He blinked at me, his gaze sharp for someone with too much liquor in him. “Nothing.” He gestured to the dance floor, where many people had started swaying to some Christmas tune. “Let’s dance,” he said, his tone half challenge, half plea.

I snorted. “Yeah, I don’t dance.”

“Then hold my drink,” he said, thrusting his near-empty glass at me before staggering toward the middle of the dance floor.

I stood there awkwardly, holding his drink as he stumbled and spun, coaxing laughter from people around him, grabbing the hands of strangers and putting on a show.

“You can sit down, you know,” I muttered when he made his way back for a refill, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, a grin plastered across his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Sit? At a wedding?” he scoffed, grabbing his drink and taking a long sip. “What are you, ninety?”

“You don’t have to keep up the act, you know,” I said, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.

For a moment, his smile dropped, and his eyes met mine, searching. Then he laughed. “What act?”

“You tell me,” I replied, my voice low.

He opened his mouth as if he were about to answer, but then he just shook his head. “You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

His bravado kept slipping, showing these quick flashes of vulnerability before he covered it up with another laugh. Or perhaps it was that, for once, I wanted to share that vulnerability, and I don’t know… fix it?

He stared at me, his eyes narrowing. “Why do you care?” His voice was rough, almost accusing.

“Good question,” I muttered. Because I didn’t know. I didn’t know why his ridiculous act, half-sober smirk, or stupid laugh didn’t stop me from feeling the pull toward him.

“You don’t know me, Lucas,” he said, his voice a low rasp, his eyes bright with emotion. “And trust me, you don’t want to.”

I held his gaze, refusing to look away. “But here I am.” I shrugged, though my chest felt tight with something I didn’t recognize.

Holly’s expression softened. He opened his mouth, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might say something real. But then he smirked, taking another swig of his drink. “Your funeral, buddy.”

As he walked back onto the dance floor, his laughter ringing out, I watched him, a familiar ache gripping my chest. Not for the first time in my life, I wanted to understand this pull toward another person—this urge to hug him, hold him close, and make things better.

And it scared me.