Page 4 of Knocked Sideways

It wasn’t even half an hour past midnight yet.

Fuck.

He’d rather be pretty much anywhere other than babysitting his youngest teammates at an overcrowded bar. But since it was New Year’s Eve, he had an hour to go before he could send them home. And even then, they’d no doubt accuse him of being a lonely asshole who hated life and wanted everyone else to suffer, too.

If so, they’d be wrong. Maybe he came off as cold sometimes, but he wasn’t lonely, and he didn’t hate his life. He found a deep satisfaction in goaltending and in winning hockey games. And it was a simple fact that the Blizzards had practice the next afternoon—make that this afternoon—and a game the following night. A game they would likely lose if half the team got completely plastered and failed to get enough sleep tonight.

His overwhelming desire to be done with the evening was in no way related to him being the only guy on the team who hadn’t just pulled someone in for a kiss at midnight.

Jed was fine on his own. He had been for a long time.

But he was the one whose body was going to be on the line tomorrow if the rest of his teammates were too hungover to keep the puck away from his crease, and the pounding music was making his head hurt.

He was relieved when his phone vibrated and gave him an excuse to turn his back on the chaos—then less relieved and more puzzled when he saw that his old teammate Mike Ridder was texting him. Mike was the one person Jed had attempted a relationship with, back in the days when they won two Cups together for Boston. The one guy he’d actually kissed on New Year’s Eve.

Mike was a shit boyfriend, and the sex hadn’t really worked for Jed, either, so they hadn’t been together like that for long. They’d stayed in touch after Mike took a college coaching job, because there weren’t enough quasi-out queer guys in the NHL that Jed was going to take for granted having a friend he could relax around. He couldn’t imagine why Mike was texting him tonight, though. Jed sure as hell wasn’t the only person Mike had ever kissed on New Year’s Eve.

With a shake to clear his head, Jed opened up his texts.

Ridder

Hey

One of my guys is headed your way

Has potential but isnt happy about the trade

Keep an eye on him for me

It was typical of Mike to be in touch because he wanted something. But how did he have news about the Blizzards’ roster before Jed did? Jed tapped out a quick response.

Grant

Happy New Year to you too

Who is it

Ridder

Remy Ladoux

D-man

With Montreal this year

U remember him right

Well, fuck. Jed did remember.

He wasn’t often drawn to other hockey players—to anyone, really—but Remy Ladoux had made an impression when Jed visited Mike at UVM a few years back.

Remy’d stood out from the rest of the team. It wasn’t only his looks—a face that was all huge, bright, caramel-colored eyes and long black lashes and upturned lips and flushed cheeks. It was the way he outshone his teammates with his intensity. He’d played with confidence and guts.

Off the ice, though, Remy’d been almost completely different. When Jed chatted with him for a few minutes following the game, Remy had been self-deprecating and even a little shy, stumbling over his words like he had no idea how incredible he was.

Jed had kind of wanted to figure him out.

And now, Remy Ladoux was heading to Colorado.