Page 26 of Body Check

“Nah, man, it’s cool,” Logan says. “We all need our hobbies.”

“I played ball through high school. Gave it up to get serious about hockey, but fuck, sometimes I miss it.”

“Well, if you ever want to toss a ball around, hit me up,” Brandon says.

MacGregor gapes at him. “I think I love you.”

“He’s married,” Tyler says,with a smirk.

The hockey player shrugs. “Didn’t say I was going to propose.”

McKittrick clears his throat. “We need to get ready for our game.”

“Yes. Right. The game.” MacGregor nods. “You guys heading to the bar after?”

“Nah. We have to get the little one home,” Brandon says. “We’ll stay for the game, but taking an infant to a bar probably won’t win us any parenting points.”

“Good call,” Logan says. He gives us a broad smile. “Nice meeting you guys. Hailey’s up in the family suite, if you want to join her.”

That’s MacGregor’s sister. I met her once. She’s nice, if a bit quiet.

“Thanks, man,” Ty says. “Nice to meet you all.”

Robby leads us down the hallway to the equipment cave, where he spends most of his time sharpening skates, mending jerseys, and getting all the equipment ready.

Sinclair rummages through one of the cabinets, coming up with a roll of tape.

“Hey. Is it bring your family to work day?” He grins at us, his hockey smile missing two teeth courtesy of a high stick to the face last week.

“Something like that,” I mutter. “You’re good and loose?” I worked on his hamstring a few hours ago.

He nods. “Feeling great. Thanks for the assist.”

“Any time. You know where to find me.”

He shuffles off. My work day is technically over, since I’m not on shift for the game. Zac already left, and Graham and Derek will handle everything. It feels weird to just go home when the guys are playing, though. I’m just as much part of the team as any other staff member.

After a few more minutes chatting with Robby, I lead my brothers through the tunnels to the stands. My comp tickets are in the nosebleeds, but I don’t think the guys care. They’re more focused on getting out of the house and drinking beer than on the game itself.

With a Grizzlies ball cap pulled low, nobody else recognizes Brandon, and we enjoy the game from the uncomfortable stadium seats with our overpriced beer and snacks. Ainsley sleeps through most of the game, her little ears protected by giant muffs. When she wakes up, Tyler and Brandon take turns walking her around the upper concourse, turning down my repeated offers to take a shift.

The guys look good on the ice. They’re up two points over Tampa, and after losing their last two games, the team is hungry for redemption. MacGregor and Larsson have each scored goals. McKittrick landed five shots on goal by himself. He wants a goal—he wants it bad.

They’re in the offensive zone when MacGregor wins the face-off. He kicks the puck back to Logan, who pressures the Tampa forwards, dekes past a defenseman, and shoots.

The goalie blocks the shot—pad save.

But the rebound—it goes right to McKittrick’s stick. He may be one of the oldest players in the league, but his one-timer is still brutal.

And with a flick of his wrist, he buries the puck in the back of the net. The lamp lights red, and the goal horn sounds.

The guys crowd McKittrick in a circle for celebratory hugs, and then he leads the charge down the line of teammates for fist bumps.

My smile stretches from ear to ear. I wish I could be on the ice with them, watching from my safe space in the tunnel, but it’s almost sweeter to watch from the stands. I get to appreciate it with thousands of fans.

And when the night’s over and I’m alone in my room, the lights turned down low, I wait for McKittrick to get back to his place. He stops short when he sees me waiting for him.

He cocks his head, the lights behind him concealing his features.

But I know him well enough to understand he wants this.

I drop my robe.

He doesn’t look away.

The man got a goal tonight, bringing home the W for the team. The least thing I can do is give him another show.

Although really… I think I’m the one winning here.