Page 1 of Pucking Off-Sides With My Brother's Best Friend

Chapter one

Aiden

You got one shot.

Those words echo in my head as I step onto the ice, my last chance at the big leagues staring me down. I’ve been chasing this dream since high school, and now, a decade later, I’m almost ready to give up.Almost.

One shot.

One chance to make this work or move on.

The last thing I need is to hear the old man’s voice in my head. I heard it enough coming up. Hell, he said it so much I didn’t even need him to speak. Whenever I was face-to-face with him, I could see those fucking words burned onto his face.

But fate has a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them.

My phone pings with a new text, and I glance down.

Jax:

“Bro! They’re officially starting that new league team in Canyon Bay!” I frown, swiping it from the screen.

In this swamp? I didn’t even know where Canyon Bay was, let alone talk of starting a new team there, at least not until last week when Jax mentioned it during our semi-regular catch-ups.

Truthfully, I didn’t want to hear anything about the NHL after spending so long in the minor leagues, hoping for the moment when I’d be called to finally move up to the majors. It’s been four years since being drafted from college. Dreams can only be sustained for so long, you know.

One shot.

I scowl at those words ringing in my head again and press hard on the accelerator of my beater car.

Practice was rough today, and now I want nothing more than to sink down on my couch. It’s not as good as sinking my dick into some sweet pussy, but I promised Coach I’d put that on the back burner after the last bit of drama involving puck bunnies with long legs and stalker tendencies.

When my phone rings, I think about ignoring it, his name plastered across my screen.

“Jax, man, hey…I’m beat—“

“Shut up and stop ignoring my texts, asshole.”

That makes me snort, he doesn’t usually go straight for the jugular. I mean, for someone who can slap down pucks like they owe him money, he’s pretty much a saint off the ice—That is, until he needs to be more. This motherfucker is no stranger to damage.

“Did you get my message? Scratch that, I know you got it. Why you holding out?”

I navigate my car around a slow-moving truck before replying. “Not much to say. A new team sounds good, but what does it have to do with me?”

“Because I got transferred, and when they asked if I knew anyone else who’d be an asset, I put your name forward.”

Fuck. I thought I was done with hope, but my heart didn’t get the memo. It speeds up, making me shift with sudden heat. “Yeah, so.”

I can hear murmurs in the background, and I hope Jax doesn’t have me on speakerphone where just anyone can hear.

“Sooo,” he says, dragging the word out and nearly making me crash into the car in front of me, “The Canyon Bay Cyclones wantto call you in for a tryout. Last I heard, they were going to reach out to your coach today.”

No. It can’t be that easy. I grip the steering wheel tighter, memories of my father’s harsh words fading as hope, unwelcome and dangerous, begins to take root.

One word from my dumbass best friend couldn’t possibly be enough to get things moving just like that. Sure, he might be one of the best, if not the best, up-and-coming goalies in the majors, but that doesn’t mean he can snap his fingers and make things happen for me.

Right?

I’m exhausted. Sweat poursdown my face, dripping onto the ground when I pull my helmet off. Every part of me wants nothing more than a shower and a nap. I sit hard on the bench, hunching over and leaning my elbows on my knees. I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t to push myself like I’m playing for the Stanley Cup. Even after Jax’s phone call, I resigned myself to a mediocre practice or maybe lip service from the coach just to appease the team’s new starting goalie. I wasn’t prepared for the interest clear on the man’s face as he had us battling it out on the ice. Even now, I don’t know how many spots are open.

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