1. Cole

"Areyou going full bridezilla on me?" Cole Fawn asked, watching his friend Matthew pace his living room. Normally he loved hanging out in Matthew's fancy rich-person apartment—the beverage fridge alone was worth the bike ride over to Matthew's neighborhood—but the wedding was a week away, and Matthew looked like he was about to melt down. Cole sipped his prebiotic soda and swept his black hair out of his face. He'd never have hair as long as Matthew's auburn waves, but it was enough to get in his eyes.

"The wedding planner has pretty much every detail locked down. There's nothing more that I have control over to fuss with. It's…guest anxiety."

"No more floral arrangement drama?" Cole remembered an entire shift at Caring Cuisine, the meal-delivery charity they both worked at, where Matthew complained about in-season flowers while chopping fifty pounds of onions. Tears were involved. Cole didn't know how many were onion induced.

"I have two lingering things that will either be totally fine, or a complete mess."

"Your dad?" Cole guessed. He had witnessed the month-long decision-making process when Matthew chose to protect his peace and not invite his dad to his big day. His dad who used to be his fiancé's hockey coach, who'd traded him across the continent when he'd found out that Matthew and Blake were dating. Still, in that kind of situation, the feelings haunt you either way, regardless of the presence of the person who stresses you out.

"I don't think he'll randomly show up. But I invited my older brothers, and I don't doubt they would tell him the details if he asked. Blake hired a security guard, and he'll have a photo of my dad, but I don't want it to come to that."

"Blake loves you one hell of a lot," Cole said. He loved hearing about Matthew's doting fiancé. Imagine meeting a fucking hot professional hockey player who decides that his universe revolves around you?

Matthew blushed thinking about the man he was about to marry. Cole wasn't a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but seeing Matthew and Blake together made him realize why someone might want to get married.

"That's not the only thing you're worried about, though."

"I know this makes me a bitch, and Blake is absolutely one hundred percent sure it's not going to be an issue, but I'm worried about Brady."

"Which one is he?"

"The other Whales goalie. The one I always get a vibe from. Like he hates me because he wants Blake. Blake is convinced he's straight. I don't think he's about to steal my man, but…I don't know. I keep thinking he's going to do something a little too attention grabbing when he's drunk."

"He seemed grumpy at the bachelor party."

"He didn't want me to be there," Matthew complained. "He wanted Blake to himself. It's always like that when he's around. I like all of Blake's other teammates, but of course, the one who wants to spend the most time with Blake is the one who always shoots me dirty looks."

"Do you have a security guard for him?" Cole joked. He didn't think Brady would ruin the wedding, but he'd also picked up on the same vibe Matthew told him about during the joint bachelor party earlier in the summer.

Matthew twisted his fingers in his lap. "Well, I was thinking…since you aren't bringing a plus-one…"

"Oh my God."

"Please please please? I will owe you three small favors or one very large favor." Matthew pulled out the big guns with his puppy dog eyes. Cole understood how Matthew had Blake wrapped around his little finger.

"And Nina can't?" Wasn't that the point of a maid of honor?

"Nina listened to me complain about flowers for even longer than you did. And she helped me plan the honeymoon. I literally need you to just keep a general eye on him. If you see him about to do something stupid, or loud, or annoying, distract him. I want to enjoy our wedding day and not feel like I have to fight for my husband's attention."

"Blake has no idea anyone else is in the room when you're there. You've never had to fight for his attention in your life."

Matthew's smile was sweet and dopey. They were in the kind of love that was so annoying generally, but it was impossible to be annoyed by them—it felt too pure.

"Fine. I will babysit the backup goalie."

Caring Cuisine was a dream job. Cole had no idea how he'd landed it, and while it paid barely enough for him to survive in Vancouver, the mission of cooking meals for LGBTQ+ elders in their community resonated with him, and the hours were ideal. He loved cooking, but late nights in restaurant kitchens, getting food sent back constantly, and having no sense of security got old quick. Here, he worked a day shift while he managed volunteers, coordinated donations, and put whatever music on the stereo he wanted.

By now, he was good at getting volunteers up and running. He liked big groups who came in with established camaraderie. They got a lot of corporate groups for service days, and usually everyone was in a great mood because even though they were still having to be at "work," they weren't having to answer emails for an entire day.

Having Matthew and Blake's wedding party here for a prep shift was great. The day before, they had received hundreds of pounds of potatoes, carrots, and onions from a grocery store chain that had overbought, and they had a lot of chopping ahead of them. It was a good task for this group, who were all living on wedding magic—slightly hungover but still in a party mood. Cole put on some dance music and got groups set up at different prep stations with their respective endless amounts of vegetables. Everyone had a knife, and once Cole showed how he wanted them to chop up each veggie, he walked around the small prep kitchen, making sure that everyone felt comfortable doing what they were assigned.

The group had started the morning at brunch, so they were full and happy. Cole had requested they limit the mimosas, but Matthew and Blake were clearly drunk in love. As usual. If those two were cute on a normal day, the level they were at during wedding week was off the charts.

As a contrast, Brady Griffin stood at the end of the potato table, as far away from Blake and Matthew as he could get. Miles Foster, the captain of Blake and Brady's team, was trying to talk to him about his new golf clubs, but Brady's face was pouty. He also looked like he was interacting with a chef's knife for the first time in his life.

"You're going to cut yourself if you keep holding your knife like that," Cole said, catching Brady's attention.

"I'm literally holding the handle."

"May I?" Cole asked, putting his hand out for Brady's knife to demonstrate. Reluctantly, Brady handed it over. "Pinch the blade here, so you have control over it. Tuck your fingers on your other hand so you don't chop them off, then rock your blade as you cut, like this." He grabbed a potato to show him again. There was something meditative about chopping things up. After years of perfecting his basic knife skills, the knife felt like an extension of himself.

He gave Brady the knife back, and dutifully, with a grimace, he held the knife the way Cole had instructed. Cole watched Miles adjust his grip on his own knife as well.

Cole couldn't babysit one hockey player all afternoon, but he would admit Brady would be a great regular volunteer. Once he had a task, he was a machine, and his table cranked through more veggies than Matthew and Blake's table, even though Matthew and Blake were sharing their task with Amy and Winter, other members of the bridal party who regularly volunteered with Matthew and Cole.

With a task to focus on, Cole even noticed Brady smile once or twice. Brady happily lugged around heavy tubs of chopped veg and let Cole wrangle him into mixing up half of the chopped potatoes with some herbs and oil in their large (clean) sink with his hands, then spreading it on sheet pans for roasting. He was keeping Brady's mind off whatever made Matthew so nervous. Watching the muscles in Brady's arms move as he worked was a bonus.

They all took a break before the last task of the day, which was apple crumble. The kitchen was hot, and most of the wedding party dipped out the back door to get some fresh air and a breeze.

Brady stayed. And as hot as Cole was, he was used to kitchen heat. If you can't handle the heat… He had a bandana tied in a band around his forehead to catch his sweat, so he was fine.

"You don't want to get some fresh air?" Cole asked. Brady was wiping down counters, even though Cole hadn't asked him to. He grabbed a rag and joined him.

"I want to get this done," Brady said. Even when his face was relaxed, he had a crease between his eyebrows from constant furrowing. "Then I'll go outside for a few minutes, I guess."

"You don't have to."

Brady paused to think about it, worrying the corner of the rag between his fingers. "I think I want to stay here."

"You don't want to spend time with the others?"

"You're not."

"I'm technically at work."

"This must be a pretty chaotic workday for you."

"Honestly, it's pretty on par for any day. Most of this job is herding cats."

Brady didn't quite smile at him, but his shoulders dropped a little. They moved on to wipe down the next table.

"What are you most excited for about this week?"

Brady thought for a long time, struggling to come up with anything. Cole didn't think he was trying to be in a bad mood. But if Matthew was right, and Brady had feelings for Blake, this would be a hard week. Matthew didn't need to have sympathy for Brady's feelings, but if being Brady's babysitter was his duty for this week, Cole had no problem putting himself in Brady's shoes.

His answer came after a solid minute of thinking, time that Cole didn't fill with anything else. He could wait for Brady to think about what he wanted to say. "The food, I guess."

"A man after my own heart."

"How about you?"

"Tied between mini golf and getting photographed like an extra in a movie."

That got a little chuckle from Brady. "At least the suits look nice. My little sister tried to scare me into thinking that all wedding parties ended up with ugly clothes. She likes to thrift bridesmaid dresses and they can be questionable."

"Nah, Blake and Matthew have good taste. It's going to be a good week. And if something makes you want to pull your hair out, find me. I'll distract you."

"How?" Brady gave him a curious look, head cocked to the side.

"With all my sick dance moves."

Brady's cheeks pinked and he averted his eyes as Cole's watch buzzed. It was an email, but it reminded him that the rest of the crew had been outside for a while. He'd take pity on Brady.

"I'm going to go get everyone. But I'm serious. Find me if you get bored."