Page 189 of The Blame Game

Dom had never played with Connor O’Shea, though he knew his brothers Pat and Finn a little better, having played with them at All-Star and Olympic games over the years. Their youngest brother, Kelly, played for Evanston, and was dating retired player Anders Lindholm.

They had quite the family legacy.

Their father, Declan, had started the dynasty. As captain, he’d led Boston to several playoff victories over the years. Pat and Finn were both retired now, but they too had been alternates or captains and hoisted the Cup.

The role was Connor’s now and Dom winced at the weight of the expectations he carried. Boston had struggled in recent years and the press had focused heavily on that angle, talking about Connor’s leadership role on the team. On his ability to lead Boston to the win.

Poor guy, Dom thought as he waited for the last Fisher Cat player to leave the ice, then bent down to kiss it.

Dom didn’t envy Connor that pressure one bit.

Later, after the media scrum, cooldown workout, and shower, Dom hummed to himself while he toweled off, then slipped on his underwear.

Behind him, he could hear the chaos of guys horsing around as they talked about going out to celebrate their win. He smiled at the happy shouts and off-tune warbles from the showers and the loud, excited conversations flying around as guys dried off and dressed.

He shrugged on his shirt, shaking his head as he watched Matty gallop around the wet room, hugging guys and swatting their asses and generally making a menace of himself.

When it was Dom’s turn, he braced himself—for all the good it did him.

“God it’s so good to have you back!” Matty barreled into Dom, shoving him into the locker and hugging him.

“Jesus Christ,” Dom gasped. “I’m starting to doubt that it was the hit from Crawford that caused the damn aneurysm. Maybe it was you.”

“Aww, don’t be grumpy, old man,” Nico said cheerfully. He wandered by in a towel, carrying his toiletry kit. “Today’s a day for celebrating.”

“I’m not grumpy,” Dom protested, still trying to disentangle himself from Matty’s octopus grip. “But I was hoping that being a married man with four children would make Matty a little less obnoxious.”

Matty grinned and pressed a big, slobbery kiss to his cheek. “Nope! No luck there. I’ve got plenty of love to go around!”

“Joy,” Dom said drily, wiping off his face. “Lucky me.”

He finally shook Matty off and reached for a button. “Now, can I get dressed?”

“Only if you’re coming out with us tonight,” Nico called from in front of a mirror. “We’ve got some celebrating to do. And don’t try to get out of it. We already cleared it with Shea.”

They had a few days before round two started and Dom had been hoping to go home and fuck his boyfriend, but apparently not.

“I knew Shea joining all of the group texts were a mistake,” Dom muttered.

“Well, then maybe you should join them yourself,” Jordan called out from where he stood at the mirror, using a small amount of oil to style his hair.

He was growing it and his beard out—along with the rest of the team—and they were all beginning to look a little scruffy.

Three more rounds and they’d look like mountain men. Dom rapped his knuckles again

“Well, someone has to keep an eye on all of you,” Dom said drily. He reached for his phone and checked it.

Sure enough, there was a text from Shea. Great game, baby! Go out and celebrate with the boys tonight! You deserve it.

Dom smiled and shot off a reply. Thanks. Can’t wait to celebrate with you too!

Dom tucked his phone in his pocket. As much shit as he gave the guys, he was looking forward to going out with them.

Colton snorted. “Seriously. One of many reasons we’re glad you’re back, Olds. You gotta keep the boys in line. I swear to God, Jesse is going to end up with mono by the end of this run.”

“You better not,” Dustin threatened. “We need you, Webby.”

Jesse let out an offended squawk. “I’m not gonna get mono. Just because you guys got locked down doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t have a little fun.”

---