Damn, his cock was already half-hard just thinking about it.
“Patrick?” Dwayne turned and held his hand out to Grant’s brother, but he didn’t look all that happy to see him. Still, Patrick stepped up and shook Dwayne’s hand. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yeah.” He released Dwayne’s hand and scraped it through his hair, looking at the ground. “Well, I’m sure no one missed me.” He looked up and met Dwayne’s eyes. “But I’m clean and sober, eight months now.”
Shock hit Grant in the stomach. He’d known Patrick had a problem, but not that it had been acknowledged or that he’d sought help or that he’d been successful at battling the addiction.
“Congratulations, kid.”
Patrick grinned. “Thanks, thanks.”
“Grant, you go on,” Dwayne said. “I’ve got this. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Grant nodded. “Thanks.”
He sat down, threw on his blade guards and started unlacing his skates.
“Thank you,” Dwayne said. “And tell Faith thank you again too. I’ve been getting all sorts of calls and texts about the lights. You made a lot of people happy tonight.”
Dwayne skated toward the kids calling directions while Grant pushed into tennis shoes.
“What lights?” Patrick asked.
“The ones on his house. The system’s been down since MaryAnn passed, and we helped him get it up and running again.”
He set his skates in his duffel, tossed it over his shoulder, and started toward the parking lot with Patrick, but his mind was on how happy Faith would be to hear how the lights were affecting the community.
His brother wrapped a playful arm around Grant’s neck and wrestled him, singing, “Someone’s got a crush…”
Grant laughed and pushed Patrick off. “You’re still not big enough to do that.”
Patrick straightened, making a face at how he topped Grant’s height by two inches.
“Old enough,” Grant corrected. “You’ll always be my baby brother.”
“Who’s Faith?”
“Let’s talk about you. Why did you invite me for a beer if you’re sober?”
“Because it’s the socially polite thing to do. And because it’s good practice. And because I always feel a little stronger when I walk out of a bar still able to count backward from one hundred. Who’s Faith?”
Grant ignored his last Faith inquiry and focused on the glimmer of the good-natured kid his brother had once been. That made Grant smile.
They agreed to take separate cars and meet at Yuletide Spirits. Grant planned on walking from there to Faith’s and staying with her tonight, and he didn’t want anything interfering with that plan.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, he dialed Faith.
“Hey, handsome,” she answered. “Hope you didn’t send any of the kids home with marks.”
“Not a one.”
“Good boy.”
And here came their first test. “So…my brother found me at the rink. We’re going to grab a beer.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised, but in a good way. Grant held his hopes back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Which one?”
“Patrick.”