Page 2 of Cheap Shot

Luke shot him a skeptical look.

“I don’t!” Tanner protest. “Okay, maybe acoupleof times, but that was only thereallygood ones.”

Luke snorted. “Only you.”

“Nah, definitely not. One of my D-partners in Juniors and I totally jerked off together once to a goal we set up.”

Fucking weirdo,Luke thought with a mix of horror and affection.

Tanner was still talking as Luke walked away to use the bathroom.

One guy he’d played with previously had called it Luke’s first intermission load management and, well, by the time Luke flushed the toilet, he did feel a little lighter …

It wasn’t his fault that hockey got his system moving.

When he got back to the dressing room, Coach Hoyt was just stepping through the door. Luke took a seat in his stall and Hoyt gave them a quick rundown of the plan for the second period.

It was pretty much the same as it had been for the first. Namely, get pucks to the net and hammer Portland’s goalie. The guy wasn’tbad, but Portland’s defense was shit this season.

“But I don’t want to see you get complacent,” Hoyt called out when he was done. “Sloppy play causes blown leads.”

Luke nodded, tightening his skates.

Boston had been guilty of that in the past few seasons. Well, not so much last year. But before that.

Crawford had been here for the Harriers’ last Cup win.

He’d been acquired at the trade deadline that season and had helped the team to the playoffs and then to the win.

It had been downhill from there for a couple of years, and when Patrick O’Shea had retired from the Harriers and the captaincy had been passed to his younger brother, Connor, things had really hit the skids.

The team had struggled, Connor had struggled, and without any depth scoring they’d been fucked.

Until last season when they’d acquired their goaltender Jesse Webber and the Harrier’s general manager, Gavin Racine, had started fitting in the right pieces around him.

Tanner—annoying as he could be—was one of them. So was Arkady Romaschenko—the Belarusian netminder who was their very capable backup to Webby—and then Mickey Krause and Rafe Moon on defense.

Goal scorer Tom Bass had been acquired late last winter.

And with the rookie Erik Wyatt adding to their forward depth, the team was really starting to come together.

After Coach Hoyt left, Tanner resumed his yammering, and Luke tugged on his still-damp jersey.

“Do youeverfucking stop talking?” he asked.

“No.” Tanner gave him a cheerful grin. “People I hook up with say I talk in my sleep. And kick sometimes.”

“I believe it,” Luke said grimly.

He still couldn’t get over the way Tanner handled his hookups. He fucking invited people back to his place and let them sleep over.

No way. No fucking way.

It was asking for trouble and while Luke knew that Tanner had about three brain cells in his head and they were all working overtime, he would’ve thought he was smarter than that.

Apparently not.

But the intermission was winding down so Luke turned to face the room and yelled, “Alright, who’s ready to do this?!” because he knew how to get his boys pumped up.