Page 37 of Offside Rules

"That would be a nice change."

He goes down the hall, and I check that I have my keys before looking back at the schedule on the fridge. I put his departure and return times in my phone, then add a reminder for the evening before he gets home. I’ll leave something marked for him if I’m still working. It’s easier than arguing over a missing cupcake at three in the morning.

Then I check my orders for the week. Just to see which day would work.

Sprinkles needs to keep running. I need to keep saving. And by the time my family gets here, I need to be back in my own kitchen.

As long as nothing goes wrong, this could work.

Chapter Seven

Wolf

Hunter’s yelling for the puck before I’ve finished getting it off the boards.

I heard him the first time. So did the winger trying to pin me against the glass. I keep my body between him and the puck, turn my skate, and kick it far enough out to get my stick on it. Hunter moves into open ice, and I send it across before the other forward can cut between us.

The pass reaches him. The hit reaches me a second later.

My shoulder takes the boards, and I swear hard enough that the guy behind me hears it. He’s already skating away. I push off with my good arm, get my stick down, and turn back toward the play.

We’re up by one with just over four minutes left. I already spent two minutes in the box for cross-checking in the first. I’m not giving them another power play now. I can think about my shoulder when I’m sitting down.

Hunter carries the puck out of our zone and sends it ahead to Aleksi, who takes it over the blue line with their defense backing up. I follow far enough to give him an option, then stop high when the puck comes loose. Their center collects it and looks up. He’s got a winger coming through the middle and another one wide.

I hold my position. Make him choose.

He goes wide, and I turn with the pass, keeping my stick between the winger and the middle of the ice. He tries to cut inside anyway. I get enough of the puck to send it toward the boards, then stay with him when he goes after it. This time, I meet him with my good side.

He doesn’t appreciate it. His elbow comes up, I shove it down, and the puck gets chipped past us to Hunter. Behind me, JP calls out that we have time.

We don’t need much. Hunter clears the zone, and I get to the bench before I do something that puts us short a man.

The trainer is watching when I sit down. I reach for the water bottle with the arm that isn’t throbbing and pretend I haven’t noticed.

"You all right?" Hunter asks, dropping beside me.

"He caught me wrong."

"Saw that." He looks at my shoulder. "You turned the other way on the next one."

"Worked, didn’t it?"

"That wasn’t what I asked."

I take a drink instead of answering. The next shift goes out, and both of us lean forward to watch. I want the win. I want to be available if they need us. Neither requires a conversation with Hunter about every movement I’ve made since he started noticing which arm I use to take off my equipment.

He knows too much about shoulders. That’s the problem with having a defensive partner who’s already hurt his own.

We hold the lead. When the horn goes, I join the guys on the ice, tapping JP’s pads before he comes out of the crease. He made two saves in the last minute that kept us from overtime, and I tell him so.

"You could stop letting them shoot," he says.

"You’d get bored."

"Don’t worry about me." He bumps his glove against mine and heads toward the tunnel.

Back in the room, I wait until the guy beside me has moved before pulling my jersey over my head. Getting the sleeve free of the bad arm takes longer than I’d like. I keep my face down and set it with the rest of my gear.