Page 57 of Game Misconduct

Tomorrow he’d wake up and send polite thank-yous to his family in Norway. He’d sit down and apologize to his dad, maybe over coffee or something.

He’d probably even talk to Tanner. But not tonight. Not now. Not afterthis.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tanner bounced a few times on his toes in the hallway outside Leif’s door, trying to work up the nerve to knock.

Okay, so Leif was pissed. And, well, that was fair. Matty had been right that Tanner had definitely crossed a line.

He hadn’tmeantto, only the words had left his mouth before he could stop them. Story of his life, right? He was probably better at stuffing his foot in his mouth than he was at hockey, and that was kinda saying something at this point.

Ahh, fuck. He couldn’t say shit like that to Leifeitheror he’d think Tanner was rubbing their win in his face. He had to get thisright.

In Tanner’s head, the comment about channeling his dad’s talent had just been a bit of chirping. A bit of banter. He wasn’t trying to rub Team USA’s victory in his face or anything. Tanner respected how well the Nordic Team had played. They were damn good and it had been a hard-won victory for the US.

Tanner had felt fucking awful when he saw the look on Leif’s face. The heartbroken, crumpled expression like Tanner had kicked him in the chest and knocked all the wind out of him.

Now, Tanner bounced once more, glanced up and down the hallway to be sure it was still quiet on the floor, then rapped sharply.

Even from the other side of the door, he could hear the heavy sigh Leif let out and the rustle of his clothing as he walked toward it.

Tanner scrunched up his face, trying to get rid of the grin that had been permanently attached to him since they’d won the semifinal, then realized Leif was probably staring at him through the peephole. He tried to make his face do something normal and neutral as he wondered if Leif would even open up. Should he knock again? Should he say something? His texts had all gone unanswered.

But, after what felt like forever, he heard the sound of the dead bolt opening, the lock click, and then Leif was staring at him.

He looked … well, he kinda looked like shit. Somehow both hot and like shit. He was half-dressed in the suit he’d worn earlier, his shirt unbuttoned, his tie undone and hanging around his neck, and his hair a fucked-up mess, like he’d been running his fingers through it.

That should be my job, Tanner thought, then felt confused about where that had come from.

“Come to gloat some?” Leif asked with a heavy sigh as he leaned against the doorframe.

Honestly, it was kind of a good look. Like if someone pointed a camera at him and took a picture, it would have that sort of effortless pouty pose they always used in, like … perfume ads or whatever.

Tanner idly wondered if Silje Vang had taught her son to pose or if Leif had picked it up from her without realizing it. Maybe it was genetic.

But his eyes were too sad for any of it to betrulyhot.

And then Tanner realized Leif was staring at him, looking more and more annoyed by the second.

“No, no,” Tanner said quickly. “No gloating. I came to apologize. If you’ll let me.”

Leif sighed but he straightened, tossing his hair off his forehead as he stepped back.

Tanner slipped into the room, and he had his arms around Leif’s waist before the door even closed.

Leif stood there stiffly, not touching him, and Tanner realized that maybe he needed to do the apologizing thing before he did the hug it out and make it better thing and fuuuuck, he was bad at this.

Tanner let go and backed up, wincing. He had no trouble with hookups. He knew how to apologize to someone if he fucked something up or made them feel weird or uncomfortable in bed or whatever. And hockey dudes were pretty easy. You fucked up, you tussled about it in the locker room or on the ice during practice, and then it was over.

But Leif was … Leif. And he’d always been fucking complicated. He wasn’tjusta hookup or a hockey dude. He was … well,Leif.

And that shouldn’t make sense but it also kind of did and fuuuuuck, Tanner needed to get the words out of his fucking mouth now.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I, uh, I really fucked up.”

“No fucking shit, Clayton,” Leif snapped, stepping back and turning away.

Ahh fuck, they were back to Clayton now. And Tanner hadn’t even realized it but he’d liked it when Leif called him Tanner instead of Clayton.