Page 99 of Ethan

“If you need advice—”

Ethan groaned, interrupting him again. “Oh my God, I amnotgoing to you for sex advice. Absolutely never gonna happen. Besides, there’s the internet for a reason. I’m good. Trust me. So good.”

“Okay.” Charlie cracked a smile. “I think we’d both be happier with you doing your research on the internet.”

“Yes,” Ethan said emphatically.

Hank had been wanting to come back to New York so much for so long that now that it had happened, he could barely believe ithadhappened.

But that was his name on a stall in the Bandits’ locker room. Ethan across the room from him, stealing these little glances that he probably thought were subtle, but weren’t at all. Not if anyone was looking for them, and Hank was.

He leaned over and finished tying his skates.

Inverness had actually flown him in this morning—telling Hank he wanted him here at practice and playing in the game tomorrow. He’d barely had time to throw some shit in a suitcase and call up the Black Knights’ equipment manager to pack up his gear, swinging by the practice arena so he could grab it on the way to the airport.

He’d come here with a single bag of clothes, his gear, and a dream.

Make it to the Bandits’ roster, this timepermanently, and finally,finally, take Ethan Barnes out on a date.

The drive in to the practice arena here in New Jersey had been . . . interesting. He and Ethan had sat in the back seat, theirknees pressed together, and had tried hard to not make fun of Max for his driving or Charlie for the way he kept turning green whenever Max took a turn five miles under the speed limit.

“Hey, Tuck,” Jonesy said as they walked down the tunnel towards the ice together. “Feelin’ good about being back up?”

Hank nodded. He liked Brock, and while he didn’t think there was a chance he’d play with the guy—though hewantedto—it was going to be great to learn from him. Back in Syracuse, he’d been the best d-man on the team, and it was hard to get better when that was the case.

But up with the Bandits? Hank knew he had a lot to learn, and he could learn a ton of it from Brock.

“Well, it should’ve happened awhile ago,” Brock declared. “Willy wasn’t holding his own. ’Cause of injury or whatever, he wasn’t cutting it. And Niko?” Brock made a face.

From what Hank knew of Brock, it was unusual of him to talk like this, especially considering he had a letter on his sweater, but clearly, he’d gotten very frustrated by the Bandits’ lack of good defense during their last stretch.

Hank, who’d merely been following along, had been frustrated by it too.

“We gotta lock it down,” Hank agreed.

Brock smiled and patted him on the back. “You’re a good step in that direction.”

It seemed like it, when practice began.

The drills weren’t all that different from things he’d been doing in Syracuse, or what the coaching staff had been working with him on during his stint up with the Bandits’ last season. But he felt stronger and more confident than he had last year. He was ready.

More than ready, if he was being honest.

More than ready, too, to make good on the promises he’d made to Ethan in September. From the way Ethan kept lookingover at him and the knowing smirk on his face every time their gazes collided, it seemed he was ready too.

It had been a long wait, but now it was time. Everything was going to be different.Better.

He’d just finished up showering and ducking out to call the restaurant Dom had suggested back in September to make sure they had a table for two available for tonight when Barney came up to him.

He looked a lot better. Probably puking over the bench, after a few drills, had helped. Max, too, had finally looked more clear-eyed and less greenish gray around the face.

“Hey,” Charlie said. He glanced behind his back, like he was worried Ethan would show up in the middle of whatever this was. After Ethan had spent all that energy reassuring him that Barney wasn’t scary!Ha.They both knew better, even if he wouldn’t admit to it. Hank fully intended to get him to change his tune tonight.

Maybe when he was all sweet and flushed after a good meal and a glass of red wine.

“Hey back,” Hank retorted. “What’s up?”

Charlie shot him a knowing grin. “Why would something need to be up for me to want to talk to you?”