Page 32 of Slap Shot
"It's a little lopsided," Kane said helpfully. "Allison, didn't you offer to teach him proper bow tie technique?"
Allison laughed. "I did, but apparently YouTube University was good enough."
"YouTube taught me everything useful I know," Oliver shot back. "Including how to fold fitted sheets and change a tire."
"That's bullshit," Jax interrupted. "Nobody actually knows how to fold fitted sheets. It's impossible."
"I can fold fitted sheets," Lauren said mildly.
Jax stared at her like she'd just claimed she could fly. "Witchcraft."
"It's called having motor skills more advanced than a toddler," she replied sweetly. "Though I suppose when your laundry system is 'clean pile, dirty pile,' any organization seems magical."
"That system works perfectly," Jax said, puffing up with mock indignation. "Clean clothes go in one basket, dirty clothes go in another basket. Simple. Effective."
"Until Lauren moved in and introduced you to the concept of a dresser," Marcus pointed out.
"And matching socks," Allison added.
"Hey, she hasn't complained about my organizational skills," Jax protested.
"Because I reorganized everything while you were on that road trip," Lauren said. "You just haven't noticed yet."
Oliver found himself grinning despite his discomfort with the formal setting. This was what he'd never expected when he'd signed with the Chill, teammates who felt like family, who included him in their banter and looked out for each other. It made the cyber attacks feel personal, like someone was targeting his family.
"Ready for tomorrow's charity scrimmage?" Marcus asked. "The kids are pumped to watch us get schooled by a bunch of mascots."
"Please tell me we're not letting the mascot team ref," Kane said. "Last time one of them called a penalty on an eight-year-old for 'excessive celebration.'"
"In fairness," Allison pointed out, "that kid did skate a full victory lap after scoring."
"With a bunch of silly moves," Stephanie added. "The whole crowd was cracking up."
"The kid had serious moves," Oliver admitted. "Better than half our goal celebrations."
"Speaking of moves," Jax grinned wickedly, "Lauren's been working on her skating. Show them that spin you learned, babe."
"Absolutely not," Lauren said firmly. "I'm not demonstrating my wobbly attempt at figure skating in heels and a cocktail dress."
"Come on," Kane encouraged. "We've all made asses of ourselves on ice."
"Some more spectacularly than others," Marcus said, shooting Oliver a pointed look. "Remember rookie year when you tried to impress that sports reporter with your backwards crossovers?"
"And ate shit directly into the boards," Oliver finished with a wince. "Thanks for the reminder."
"Hey, it worked," Stephanie said. "She definitely remembered you after that."
"For all the wrong reasons."
The easy ribbing felt good, normal in a way most of Oliver's life wasn't. These people had his back, would go to war for him without question, and someone was trying to use that loyalty against him. The thought made his jaw clench.
His phone buzzed against his chest. A text from Heather:Backstage. Emergency. Need you now.
The urgent tone made his pulse spike. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," he told his teammates, already scanning the room for the most discreet exit route.
"Don't disappear for the whole night," Kane called after him. "Donors want to see our star winger, not just hear about him."
Oliver waved acknowledgment but was already plotting his path through the crowd, avoiding the main thoroughfares where people might notice his departure.
