Page 31 of Game Misconduct

Henry grins, looking so much like his asshole brother it takes me aback. I don’t want to like him. But he’s my goalie; he has my back every night out on the ice, and I have his. Our teammate bond goes deeper than any stupid rivalry over a woman who isn’t interested in me. He can’t choose who he’s related to any more than I can.

Conversation flows over dinner. MacGregor is fairly quiet, and for a guy who says I keep to myself, he sure does the same. Being captain must be exhausting. He’s always the first one at practice and the last to leave. I’ve seen him at the rink practicing his slapshot hours after everyone has gone; he’s meticulous about the tiny details, and it shows in his game.

Logan is engaged to MacGregor’s sister. Apparently the three of them grew up together. I’m trying to imagine how I’d feel if my best friend were dating my sister, and all I can think of is the utter outrage I experienced when Elsy started dating Whitney. Seeing her happy is always my first priority, but it’s not always easy.

Then there’s Henry, married to the coach’s daughter. I can’t imagine how that went down. They got engaged on that same island trip where I saw Bex, and now they have a newborn daughter. My irrational dislike of him aside, he bails our team out night after night, and never complains about what we put him through.

Gonzo has a baby and is married, two things that weren’t the case at the start of the season. He’s probably my best friend on the team, since we’re on the same line and spend the most time together. I don’t have the same relationship with Jenkins, the other winger. It’s hard to relate to him when he’s a full decade younger than me. Half the slang he uses sounds like gibberish, and the other half is expletive-laden.

I’m no stranger to a well-timed fuck, but I don’t curse out loud nearly as often as other guys in the league. I’ve got a reputation as a decent guy, hardworking, dependable, and I try to live up to it. Plus, the ticking time bomb of my impending retirement is growing louder with every day that passes, making it harder to connect to my younger teammates who are all in their prime. A second career in broadcasting doesn’t sound too bad, but there are only a handful of spots and dozens of guys retiring each season.

There’s too much up in the air. I don’t know where I’ll be living, only that it won’t be Boston. I’ll ride out my contract here, hopefully get another—whether in this city or another—and then retire somewhere quiet. Where nobody knows me, and I can be myself.

“What’s the deal with you and Dr. Whitney?” Gonzo asks out of nowhere.

My face heats, but I try to play it cool. “What are you talking about?”

“You were looking at her at the bar. Do you have a thing for her?”

I glance at Henry, but he doesn’t seem upset at the insinuation of something between me and his brother’s girl.

“Her brother and I have… history,” I finally say. “He’s married to my best friend and we played World Juniors together.”

“So you’re looking out for her?” Logan asks. “That’s sweet.”

I screw up my face. “No. Not at all.”

“Then why were you practically salivating over her?” Gonzo demands.

“I wasn’t. We were just sitting at the bar, by ourselves. I didn’t even know she was there,” I lie. I was so fucking aware of her, my heart wouldn’t stop racing. “It’s not illegal to be in the same bar as team staff.”

MacGregor stares at me like he’s trying to figure me out. “I don’t think that’s all it was.”

“You weren’t even there.” It comes out like an accusation, and I immediately want to walk it back, but it’s too late; the words are out there. Drawing more attention to me.

“It’s cool if you have a thing for her, man,” Henry says. “Just don’t act on it.”

“I would never.” Even though I want to so desperately I can barely breathe over the lump in my throat.

“Doc Whitney’s good people,” Logan says. “She really cares about preventing head trauma as much as she does the clinical analysis.”

“Hopefully we don’t need it,” MacGregor mutters, and I tap my water glass against his.

“I’ll drink to that.”

After dinner, we head back to the hotel. MacGregor and I are the only single guys, and the last thing I want to do is go out trawling for pussy. Hookups are more trouble than they’re worth sometimes, and I don’t like how I feel after. My right hand is a better option.

Bex is still on the same barstool in the hotel bar when we get back, tablet in hand. Though her wineglass is empty now.

“You heading up?” Gonzo asks with a knowing grin.

“Might grab another drink,” I say, forcing my voice to remain casual.

MacGregor snorts and shakes his head. “Don’t have too many. We have a game tomorrow night.”

“You got it, Cap.”

I amble over to the bar and take a seat three stools down from her. Bex doesn’t look up from her book. The bartender approaches and I order a glass of bourbon, my body angled to the left so I can watch her a little more easily.