Page 3 of Puck Your Neighbor

Finn flips him off, halfhearted. "Not helping, Blake."

Leo swings behind the net, still skating backward like it's some personal challenge. Marcus and Rhys push in harder this time, driving me and Jenson toward the boards. I chip the puck up the glass, and Leo catches it clean, cutting back to center ice.

Jenson chirps at Marcus, speeding past him. "Man, you're slow!"

Marcus shoots back, eyes locked on Leo as he closes in. "Not slow enough to miss you getting steamrolled next drill."

Leo flips the puck straight into Jenson's path. Jenson snaps a shot before Rhys can block, and the puck rockets into the net, ringing off the crossbar.

Finn's stick clatters to the ice as he throws his blocker in the air. "Done! I'm done. Hazard pay or I'm out."

We're already laughing, circling back to center ice while Finn mutters into his glove. My jersey sticks to my back, sweat running down my temple, but I'm not tired. Not even close.

Asher swings by, bumping my shoulder with his. "You're cocky today."

"Always."

This is what it's about. The puck. The grind. The ice. The burn in my legs, the sting of the cold air in my lungs. The feeling of the pack at my back, knowing Jenson and Leo are always there.

Let the Vipers come. They won't know what hit 'em.

After another hour of drills, coach calls it a day, and we're off to the lockers. The scent of sweat and ice hangs heavy in the air as I unlace my skates, the familiar ache in my muscles a welcome reminder of a hard day's work. Taking off my gear, I head toward the showers, the hot water a welcome relief on my sore muscles.

Leo glances over at me as he runs soap over his hair, the scent of cloves and cinnamon filling the steamy air. He rinses it out, water cascading down his face. "What time will the movers be at our place? I still think it's stupid that we have to move."

I shrug, the warm water rinsing over my skin. I don't really care about moving; movers are taking care of it all, anyway. We don't have to pack or move it ourselves unless there's an item or two that we don't want them touching. "They should be there around three. So, we have to leave here, and one of us needs to meet them at the house, and another one of us has to meet them at the apartment. Nothing we can do about the landlord wanting to give the house to his kid. I would do the same thing if I were him."

Jenson comes over, the water dripping from his hair onto the tiled floor. "Yeah, but he could've given us more than thirty days' notice to turn around and find something else. Now we're stuck in that two-bedroom apartment, Mav doesn't even get his own room, and now we're stuck in a six-month lease."

I roll my eyes as I rinse off. "Stop being so dramatic. You both know that in a year we'll be able to afford a mansion if we want it. We're just saving up now while we have the chance to. Once we earn the Alpha Cup, there will be major teams wanting to scoop us up and pay us ten times what we're making now. Besides, we can get a three-bedroom again in six months, or if we find something sooner, we can eat the fees to break our lease. It's not that big of a deal."

Jenson slaps me on the back as he takes my place under the spray, not wanting to wait for one of the other ones to heat up. "I commend you for taking one for the team and being an all-star pack leader and giving up a room."

Grabbing a towel, I shake the water from my head, the droplets scattering across the room. I grin, spraying our other teammates as I wrap it around my waist. "Stop being so dramatic. It's not the first time I've had to sleep in the living room. I hope it's the last, but we'll have to see how this year pans out for that."

Heading out, I don't give him another chance to talk about the small apartment we're moving into. In my book, it's worth it to save a couple hundred on rent. The more we save toward a house, the better one we'll be able to buy. Then we'll no longer be sinking money into rent, but a mortgage that can at least turn into equity.

I dress in a pair of old jeans and a beat-up Led Zeppelin shirt I've had since I was thirteen. The graphic on it is so faded, no one could tell what band it's supposed to be, but I don't care. I will have this shirt until it falls apart; it's my go-to moving outfit, even though I don't plan to move anything myself this time. The last thing one of us needs is to hurt something while moving when we just started the season. I'm not ruining my chances to be scouted by a better-paying team, if I can help it.

The Maten Iron Wolves have been great and all. With us on the team, there's a chance at the Alpha Cup at the end of the year, but they aren't one of the popular teams right now, so the funds are less than what they would be if we were on the Berllow Vipers or the cream of the crop: the Heathstead Bears. Those guys are always getting sponsorships and cameos.

If we want to have a life after we get too old for hockey, that is the team we want to get on, so the sponsorships and acting roles continue after and turn into something we can make another career out of.

Rhys laughs as he walks by me to his locker. "Dude, I can see your skin through the fibers of that shirt. How old is that thing?"

I toss my towel at his head. "Your mother wasn't complaining when she took it off me last night."

His face falls as he looks over at me. "She's dead."

My heart plummets into my stomach. Ah shit.

A grin then tugs at his lips. "I'm just joking. She's not in the picture, so I don't give a shit what she did with you last night. But you ain't going to pick up any Omegas looking like you can't afford new clothes. I damn well know that you can afford more than that with the money you three make as our top players."

I can't make that much more than him, not with the budget that the Iron Wolves have. With bills, we're only putting away a couple hundred a month between the three of us, and every cent counts in this economy.

Leo comes out of the showers, using a hand towel to squeeze the water out of his precious, long blond hair. I swear, one day he's going to have his hair insured, he loves it that much. "Mav is too much of a penny pincher to ever spend money on new clothes unless there's a damn good reason for it. I don't think he would even do it for a date."

I stay silent. He's not wrong; she would have to be a pretty special Omega to make me want to buy new clothes to wear in front of her.

---