Page 2 of Pucking Off-Sides With My Brother's Best Friend

Still, I feel a sense of relief that it’s over and done with. I put my all into it. No one can say I half-assed it—my aching muscles canattest to that. I played my heart out, and all I can do is hope it made a difference

“Dude, that was awesome.” I huff out a laugh before turning to see Jax coming down the aisle. I’m surprised to see him in street clothes. Then again, he’s already on the team, so no reason for him to be in full gear. Still, I can’t help the small seed of jealousy that wants to sprout within me. I force it down and try not to let bitterness get in the way. Jax didn’t have to stick his neck out for me with this team. The least I can do is not be a jealous jerk about it.

“You played your heart out, There’s no way you don’t make the team,” Jax gushes, plopping down beside me. “I don’t know why you never moved up, man. From what I saw out there tonight, you’re on top of your game.”

I grin in a way that always makes him say I look like a shark. A thrill runs through me at his appreciation. I’m not vain, but I felt good out there, and now I know I looked good too. Still, it’s nice to hear someone else appreciate the work I put into my game. It’s more than I ever got from my old man.

“Yeah, well, I guess all I can do is hope the coach felt the same way,” I say, trying to tamp down my excitement. I straighten up, ignoring the stitch in my side that pulls across my ribs. “Have you heard anything else about the team?”

Jax shrugs. “Not really.” When I give him a look, he chuckles. “I don’t know why you think I know all their plans. Seriously, bro. I know the powers that be want to get this team going quickly, so I doubt they plan on multiple rounds of tryouts.”

That’s not surprising news. It’s not every day a new team pops up in the NHL, especially in the Florida Panhandle. When Jax told me the team was starting, I felt excitement at the chance to move up to something new. Finding out that the team would call some podunk town in Florida home didn’t even register until I was on my way here yesterday. With each passing mile, the space between houses grew, and the cars that passed became few and far between.

Canyon Bay, Florida, definitely isn’t Miami. How the owners will pull the numbers needed to make this team viable is beyond me, but not my problem. Playing in the minor leagues isn’t great, but on my current team, I have a shot at being transferred up to the affiliated major league team. Gaining the notoriety needed to bring in brands and income outside of my contract will be tough unless the team has a record-breaking first year. Before I can ask more questions, a heavy hand slaps my back, forcing my breath out in a huff.

“Dude, what the hell was that for?”

Before I can move to whack him back, Jax jumps up from the bench. The smile on his face is the same devil-may-care smile he had when we were young and about to do some stupid shit.

“Come on, man, this is going to be great,” he says, hopping from one foot to the other. “You and I on the same team is what we worked so hard for. And we’ll even get to live in the same town again, just like before.”

“Yeah, but…” I trail off when another concern hits me. If—and that’s a big if—I get on this team, where will I live? The town isn’tso small that it doesn’t have apartments, but I’m not sure where to start looking.

I don’t plan to put down permanent roots here unless things go well. But I also don’t want to deal with other tenants complaining about me getting home at two in the morning like I sometimes do when practice runs late or we hang out after games.

“I don’t know, man,” I say, as thoughts swirl in my head. Thinking about all this shit is going to give me a headache. “Where the fuck will I live?”

I stand, making sure not to knock my stick into the plexiglass around us. Jax steps back, giving me space as I head toward the locker rooms. I’m done and ready to get out of these pads and into my street clothes so I can find a bite to eat before my inevitable crash. Jax follows me, waving to a few players we pass before sitting on the bench inside the locker room.

“Why don’t you come stay with me? I got a house with plenty of extra bedrooms. I don’t mind putting you up.”

I look over at him and raise an eyebrow. “Move in with you? We couldn’t stand living together in college, so what makes you think we’d be okay living together now? You drive me crazy.”

Jax laughs, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Aw, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

If I wasn’t tangled in my shirt, I’d have swung at him. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, I know,” he concedes easily. “But listen. I heard Coach talking during your tryout about pairing the new guys with one of the transfers for at least the first year. He wasn’t just talking about at practice, and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to be paired with someone you don’t even fucking know.”

He’s not wrong. I’ve never been great at making friends, even with the camaraderie shared between teammates. But living with someone I don’t know is not an option.

I keep quiet, trying to decide if I want to take him up on his offer.

Jax continues. “So, if you happen to let him know that you secured housing with someone who’s already on the team, I think it would probably go a long way in swaying his decision.”

I pause and think about it. As much as I don’t want to admit it, what Jax is saying makes a lot of sense. I glance over at him with a smirk.

“Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this plan quite a bit. I guess you’re a lot more devious than I give you credit for.”

Jax crosses his arms and looks at me. “I’ve been telling you that for years, man. Hurry up and get dressed, and I’ll show you my place. Maybe once you see it, it’ll sway your decision so you can stop questioning me when you know I’m right.”

I roll my eyes but follow him out of the locker room and out of the stadium. By the time we make it to Jax’s place, sweat is already rolling down the line of my back. It’s still hot as hell outside, and I regret not putting on shorts instead of my jeans.Heating me up even more is my acknowledgment that what Jax has proposed makes a lot more sense than I give him credit for.

When we make it to his place, I have to begrudgingly concede that he has a good point. Moving in with him would also reduce the amount of brain power I have to use for finding new housing. Moving is the fucking worst, and I would do a lot of things to make sure I have to take part in as little as possible.

When we pull up, the house itself isn’t anything grand. It’s a solid rancher with a palm tree out front. Then again, Jax can be a cheap bastard regardless of his salary. Neither of us came from money, and other than his truck, I know he probably stores away most of his earnings. Playing pro hockey, hell, any pro sport, comes with a lot of risks, one of which is someone hitting you a lot harder than you hit them. All it takes is one well-placed jab to break some shit and end your season, if not your entire career.

As we walk up to the front door, I figure I’ll throw the guy a bone. “I guess this place isn’t so bad.”

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