Page 152 of The Home Game

Damn, Charlie was probably right.

Antoni had always found hockey a little rough and violent. A little too hypermasculine. But now …

The on-ice behavior was such an intriguing contrast to what he’d seen of the team. Off the ice, the guys seemed so much softer. They cooed over babies and dated men who wore makeup and well, Antoni hardly knew what to think.

He loved it but it certainly wasn’t what he’d expected and some part of him really, really hated to admit how hot it got him to watch Matty throw his weight around.

Damn it, Antoni was a Canadian cliché after all. He was officially a convert to the game of ice hockey.

When Dustin got a goal off a pass from Nico, Antoni whooped with happiness, but there was an immediate whistle from the ref and, confused, he turned to Charlie and asked, “Wait, what’s happening?”

“Goaltender interference, I think,” Charlie said with a frown as the crowd went silent, staring at the Jumbotron. One of the referees skated out and made an announcement that they were reviewing the goal on those grounds.

“So what is goaltender interference?” Antoni asked over the boos of the home crowd and the cheers from the visiting fans.

Charlie laughed. “Honey, I wish I knew. As far as I can tell, no one knows. Not even the refs.”

“Hey, watch it,” August said, chuckling as he leaned around Charlie to look Antoni in the eye. “Charlie’s partly right though. It’s a complicated rule and the league hasn’t made it as clear as it should be. The basic rule is that if the attacking player—the one trying to score the goal—uses their stick or body to interfere with or stop the movement of the goalie using physical contact, that’s goaltender interference. Some of it’s really open to interpretation though and it causes a ton of problems.”

“So what happens if it is ruled interference?” Antoni asked.

“The goal gets called back,” August explained. “And we—the Fisher Cats—are back down to 3-3.”

“Hmm,” Antoni said, watching the screen as they replayed the video of the goal. Weird. To him, it looked like the Montreal Lynx goalie was the one who made contact with Dustin, not the other way around.

But hey, what did he know?

To Antoni’s surprise, August frowned thoughtfully. “You know, it looks to me like the goalie made contact with the player.”

Antoni internally cheered. Maybe he wasn’t going to be totally hopeless at this hockey fan thing.

He watched intently as the referees conferred, then did something with an iPad. It seemed to take forever for them to decide and Antoni held his breath as he waited.

He must have squeezed Reese a little too tight because he wriggled in protest, scrunching up his face.

“Sorry, kiddo,” Antoni said, kissing the top of his head.

“Here, you can hold my hand,” Charlie said with a laugh. “I don’t want you to squeeze the baby until his head pops off.”

“I might take you up on that.” Antoni laughed and glanced down at Charlie’s offered hand. The glint of his ring made Antoni’s eyes widen. “Wow, that’s quite a rock.”

“Mmhmm. Dustin doesn’t do anything halfway, does he?” Charlie tilted his hand, the ring sparkling in the arena lights.

“You aren’t kidding. I am glad my mom went simpler for ours.” Antoni held out his own hand.

“It’s pretty though. Tungsten and rose gold?”

“Yeah.” Antoni slipped the band off and passed it over.

Charlie inspected it carefully. “That’s really lovely. What does the inscription mean?”

“When you know, you know?” Antoni asked.

Charlie nodded.

“Ahh, well …” Antoni glanced over at the bench. Matty was deep in conversation with Nico so Antoni didn’t expect him to look up but he did, his whole face lighting up with a bright smile.

“My mom picked the inscription out too,” he said faintly, his heart racing with the sudden burst of feelings shooting through him. “But I think she means that … that even if our feelings for each other aren’t obvious at first, we’ll know it when they change. We’ll know it when—when we fall in love.”

---