Page 57 of The Kiss Connection

Archer and Jameson both get thrown into the penalty box in the final seconds of the period, but I assist Reid to make the winning shot.

And it feels like gold. It doesn’t matter that his stick was the one to hit that puck last, it took teamwork to win the game, and the endorphins are soaring.

After the game, we shower, manage the press, and then get to escape to Blue Line for a celebratory evening of drinks and fun.

Tonight, I don’t have to deal with the press. Coach has made sure I’ve been able to avoid them since the charity event. He doesn’t want me to fuck things up worse.

He’s had more years of practice at it than I have.

Archer, Reid, and Coach are speaking tonight.

I’m a bit surprised Coach is letting Archer speak, but he knows how to steer questions back to the sport and away from his personal life.

Heading out of the locker room with Conrad, Zuri is waiting outside for me. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with her for a little while longer.

Conrad picks up his pace, gives me a look like good luck, or maybe it’s more of a you’re fucked and I’m out of here.

Zuri walks alongside me, each stride in perfect step. “Have you thought more about what we discussed?” She’s careful with her word choice. There are three sets of cameras outside in the hallway, getting video of the players heading to the press junket. I’m lucky enough not to be forced into talking, but that doesn’t mean the press doesn’t shoot questions at me as we walk.

“I have thought about it, Zuri; now isn’t the time.” I glare at her. She knows this.

“I’m coming to Blue Line tonight.”

“Of course, you are,” I say, grumbling under my breath.

It’s not that Zuri isn’t nice. She’s pleasant, just overly eager to please her bosses, who aren’t us.

“Are you sure you’re old enough to drink?” It’s rare that she joins us for a night out at Blue Line and the team has whispered about whether she’s even old enough to drink.

“Just turned twenty-one,” she beams.

Fuck me.

I run a hand through my damp hair. “Well, congratulations?” I walk alongside her and a few of the guys are a couple feet back, talking to the press in the hallway, giving them a twenty-second clip they can use for the media.

Zuri glances back at Harrison, our goalie, who is spending a little too much time with the reporter. “I need to go deal with whatever that is—” she says and points behind us.

Harrison loves the spotlight, especially when it loves him. A good game, and he’s boasting about it to the reporters or frankly anyone who will listen.

“Good luck,” I mutter and hurry past through the exit and walk the couple of blocks to Blue Line. Reid and Archer will meet us at the bar after. Byron is a few steps ahead of me with Conrad, who decided to hightail it the minute he saw Zuri.

Yeah, lucky bastard didn’t want to spend two minutes talking with her. Me, either, but it’s not as though I was given a choice.

“How’d that talk with Zuri go?” Conrad asks.

“About how one might expect. Thankfully, Harrison was … Harrison and she abandoned me for him.”

Byron laughs. “Never thought any of us would be so grateful for Harrison and his antics.”

Harrison is a good guy, one of the older players on the Ice Dragons. He doesn’t have a girlfriend, as far as I know, but he does hook up with quite a few puck bunnies, although not nearly as many as my older brother.

No one fucks more than Archer.

At least no one fucks more women.

We head into Blue Line and straight to the back, where our reserved set of tables await us. We’re not the first to arrive, a couple of the guys beat us to it, which is fine by me. There’s already a set of beers waiting for us. I grab one from the bucket and grab a seat.

I glance at my phone, realizing I never got around to answering Juniper. It can wait until tomorrow.