Page 23 of Cheap Shot

Honestly, it wasn’t Tanner personally, it was the whole team, but it was more fun to make Tanner think it was all him.

Tanner shot him a glare. “Why are you such a dick?”

Luke reached for some shampoo. “Just the way I was made, I guess.”

Tanner started belting out the lyrics toBorn this Wayand Luke rolled his eyes and scrubbed his hair as quickly as he could before he moved on to cleaning his body.

He was in and out in record time and Tanner was still mid-shower as he left the shower room.

“You suck!” Tanner called after him.

“Pretty sure that’syourspecialty,” Luke shot back.

He passed Connor in the short hallway. His captain, clearly heading into the shower after post-game media, raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know?”

“Nah. Just me and Tanner giving each other shit.”

“Got it.” Connor slapped his shoulder. “Have a good night, man.”

“You too.”

He didn’t have to ask what Connor and Jesse would be doing tonight. The kids were with Connor’s ex-wife, so he could guess.

Luke towel dried his hair, then dressed and headed out. He drove to his house in South Boston and parked in his detached garage, getting out of his car with a groan.

The trudge from his car through his backyard and into his house felt endless tonight and by the time he tossed his keys in the bowl by the door, he was aching everywhere.

Luke was getting too old for this shit. This shit being hockey. He loved it butdamnit was starting to take its toll.

His house was just as he’d left it, quiet and peaceful, and he let out a sigh of relief as he walked through it, flipping on a few lights and stripping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his trousers as he made his way to the bedroom.

He was pretty sure the guys on the team thought he went out after games to hook up or drink or whatever and hedidsometimes but honestly? Most nights he came home and iced his aching body and got some fucking peace and quiet.

He’d bought the three-bedroom fixer-upper a few years ago, after he’d started to trust that Gavin was in no hurry to get rid of him.

Luke had plans for after hockey. He was gonna open up a bar somewhere and that would take a pretty good chunk of change to get going. Especially in a city as expensive as Boston. For a long time, he’d planned to do it out in Vegas where he’d grown up, but he was less and less impressed with the way the city was going.

It was too commercial now. Too slick and corporate.

Luke liked a bit of grit. A bit ofcharacter.

He’d love the shabby, retro glamour of it growing up. Had fallen in love with the romance of old Vegas. The mafia ties, the bright, shiny Hollywood glam when stars visited, the gaudy too muchness of it all.

But it felt less and less like home every time the team traveled there.

And while Boston was about as opposite as a guy could get in every way, he’d carved out a niche for himself here. He’d found the bars he liked to frequent, the hole-in-the-wall places here on the South Side where there was still a bit of the old, working-class Boston peeking through.

Luke might not have any Irish heritage the way the O’Shea family did, but he liked the Irish and Italian communities in Boston. The old immigrant neighborhoods with some realroots.

It had felt good to put down his own roots. He’d spent the off-seasons since he bought the house fixing the place up with his bare hands and most of the rooms were done now. He had it just the way he wanted it.

The sound of a car horn blaring down the street made him blink and abruptly realize he was standing in his bedroom, half-dressed and staring at nothing, so he shook his head and stripped the rest of the way down.

He ran hot, so despite the chilly temperatures outside, he pulled on a pair of shorts and didn’t bother with anything else as he ambled back into the main living area.

He’d eaten at the arena, of course, but he was still a little hungry, so he scrambled three eggs with some chopped ham and cheeseand green onion, toasted some bread, and piled it all together on a plate.

After he grabbed a few ice packs from the freezer, he ate in front of the TV, watching one of the West Coast games and pointedly ignoring his phone.