Page 109 of Scoring Position

The Canadian anthem was playing by the time he reached the hallway connecting the ice to the Canadian locker room.

Nico hesitated, not sure where he should wait. A couple of reporters and staff caught sight of him and cast speculative looks his way. Nico ignored them.

Noise came from the ice, and when everyone turned, Nico slipped into the locker room and sat down to wait.

The team and coaching staff spilled into the room, but they left the reporters outside. Good thing too, since Granger spotted Nico first and hooted with laughter. “Hey, Doc, someone left a present in your stall.”

“What?” Ryan pushed past a couple of bulkier defensemen and his face lit up. “Nico! What are you doing here?”

Nico stood as he made his way over. With Ryan still in his skates, they were just about eye-to-eye.

Despite the noise around them, this space felt intimate, secluded.

Nico shrugged. “I wanted to say congratulations in person before you disappeared under all the champagne.”

Ryan frowned. “No way, I told you—”

“Yeah, and I told you, you’d be getting drunk.” He reached out and took Ryan’s hand, the one closer to the wall, hidden by their bodies, and linked their fingers together. “Webothhave somewhere else to be tonight—celebrations—but tomorrow I’m holding you to that date promise, okay?”

Ryan bit his lip, then nodded. “Definitely.”

“Good.” Then, because Ryan had just won a gold medal in an international tournament, Nico grinned. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you.”

“Shut up,” Ryan muttered, but he didn’t stop smiling.

Nico couldn’t help it. He took Ryan’s face in both hands and kissed him—hard, passionate, and way too short.

The looker room filled with catcalls. Nico pulled away. “Have fun tonight,Liebling,” he whispered and forced himself to step back.

“You too.”

RYAN HADN’Twanted to admit it, but Nico was right about the celebrating. Ryan should be proud of that, since he’d been the one who’d reminded Nico how important it was back in October.

And there was simply no way to get out of a gold-medal-winning champagne orgy when you’d scored the winning goal.

Well.Orgymight be a strong word. Ryan was reasonably sure his teammates weren’t having sex with each other. But only reasonably sure. Hell, with the amount of alcohol they’d consumed,theycould only be reasonably sure.

Ryan kind of wanted to be having sex right now, but he was more than reasonably sure his dick wouldn’t cooperate, even if he could’ve navigated his way out of this labyrinthine club to wherever Nico was.

The general rule of team outings like this, however, was that however drunk Ryan was, someone was always much, much worse.

“Doc! Dr. Wright Place, Wright Time.” Grange crashed into him and smacked a beer-sticky kiss on Ryan’s cheek. “Scoring the golden goal. You are blossoming like a fuckin’ flower.”

Ryan gently tilted sideways until Grange was leaning on the bar top instead of him. “Pretty sure I already went through puberty, Grange.” He checked to make sure the guy was stable. He didn’t want to be the one to have to call Grange’s wife if he passed out.

He also didn’t want to end up with beer puke down his shirt.

Grange ignored him and managed, incredibly, to drink his beer without spilling. “If our new GM doesn’t offer you a contract, she’s an idiot.”

If only Ryan wanted to play there. “Thanks, man.”

Grange patted him on the back. Ryan almost went face-first into the bar top. Maybe it was time to make a strategic exit before he ended up on IR with no contract.

“I’m gonna head out.” He pulled some cash out of his pocket, squinted at it, and doubled his estimated tab, just to be safe. Then he handed the bills to the bartender and waved at Grange. “Tell the captain I’m not dead in a gutter somewhere.”

Grange saluted. “Will do!”

Through dumb luck or divine intervention, Ryan found his way back to the hotel, got his door open, and passed out facedown on the bed.

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