Page 12 of Game Misconduct

Tanner chomped at his mouthguard as he went off the ice and swore he’d get him back in the third period.

The Harriers scored right off the faceoff and Tanner was evenmoreannoying than usual in the third period.

Leif shouldn’t be surprised, but somehow Tanner always knew how to take his obnoxiousness to the next level.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be taking his hockey to the next level as well.

Leif hated to admit it but Tanner was playing well tonight.

Apparently, he’d actually been paying attention during the skills camp in Chicago this summer, rather than fucking around. He hadn’t seemed focused at all then, but his skating was faster than ever, his gap control was much tighter, and he always fucking knew where Leif was.

And he wasgluedto him.

Boston didn’t typically use a man-on-man system but damn if they weren’t doing their best imitation tonight, at least with Tanner on Leif.

They had him fucking shadowing him like they were magnetically connected.

Tanner was up in his business all shift,everyshift.

Leif tried to get in close to the net, and Tanner was on him.

Leif got a stick out to try to snag the puck, Tanner’s stick was under his. On top of his. In the fucking way.

Leif had beentryingto ignore what Tanner was saying after the dressing-down he’d gotten from his head coach, Brad Pittman, about the shit that had happened at the beginning of the second period.

But fuck was it hard with Tanner buzzing around him like the world’s most annoying mosquito.

And unfortunately, Leif would get sent to the box if he tried to crush him like one.

Still, he didn’t hold back on getting the butt of his stick up into Tanner’s armpit or whacking his shins whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He even somehow got away with a cross-check to Tanner’s back at one point.

How the officials hadn’t seen it, Leif would never know. But it felt good as he skated away to join his teammates on the bench.

“Nice one,” Mirsad Renner said with a nudge of his shoulder. “You show that little asshole who’s boss.”

Leif nodded, even though the words bugged him for some reason.

Maybe because he didn’t think anyone was Tanner’s boss. Definitely not him. And maybe not even Tanner himself. Tanner was more force of nature than anything. A hurricane or a tsunami. A wildfire. Leaving a path of destruction in his wake wherever he went.

With six minutes left to go in the third, Boston scored again, tying the game.

Neither Leif nor Tanner were on the ice but on the next shift out, Leif gritted his teeth and promised himself he’d score again.

There was no way inhellwas he was letting Boston win.

“Hey, you have plans after the game, babe?” Tanner asked breathlessly as they fought over the puck.

“What?” Leif grunted.

“Plans. After the game. Do you have them?”

“I have dinner plans.”

“You wanna know why I asked?” Tanner got his shoulder up under Leif’s stick.

“What? No! Don’t give a shit.”