Page 90 of Game Changer
Carter was sitting across the aisle from them. “You know what I call this trip? The bullshit trip. Six games in eight days and all of them in cold, miserable cities.”
“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Jalo said cheerfully. “I’m Finnish. Ice runs in our veins!”
“Looks like big fucking ice in those biceps, son,” Carter said.
Jalo laughed. “Where are you from, Carter? That you fear the cold?”
“I don’t fear anything. I’m from all over. Bounced around, y’know? Military family. But I spent a lot of years in North Dakota. That’s why I’m a brother who plays hockey.”
Jalo smiled, maybe understanding what Carter was saying.
“Do you even have Black people in Finland?” Carter asked.
“Yes,” Jalo said. “Have you not been to Finland?”
“Haven’t had the pleasure. Is it like Sweden? I’ve been to Sweden.”
“No,” Jalo said, suddenly serious.
Carter laughed.
“Bit of a rivalry, then, I take it?” Scott asked.
Jalo looked at him hard. “Finland is better than Sweden.”
Scott put his hands up in surrender. “Got it.”
The flight was a short one, which was good given how uncomfortable Scott was, wedged between Jalo and the window. The truth was he normally wouldn’t have minded being pressed against all that muscle. Jalo was, in a word, blindingly hot. Taller even than Scott by at least a couple of inches, and probably outweighing him by twenty or so pounds of muscle, with piercing blue eyes, white-blond hair that he wore combed back off his face, and ever-present stubble. He was definitely a walking fantasy.
But Scott’s mind wasn’t on the hunk filling the seat next to him; it was on the secret boyfriend that he’d left behind. The secret boyfriend heloved.
He smiled to himself. He couldn’t believe he had actuallysaid it.And that Kip had said it back! Scott felt light-headed, and completely giddy.
The team was scheduled to meet in the hotel restaurant for dinner as soon as they had checked into their rooms. Scott was rooming with Jalo tonight, then Jalo would be rooming with his new defense linemate for the rest of the trip.
Spirits were high as the team enjoyed a meal together. Everyone was excited to have a superstar defenseman like Jalo on board. It helped that Jalo was a lot of fun. He was jovial and loud and loved to tell stories with his booming voice and lilting Finnish accent. He liked to drink beer and buy rounds (though Scott made sure there were only two rounds tonight, since they had a practice in the morning). Scott liked him. Everyone liked him. He was the opposite of Zullo in pretty much every way.
When the meal was over, Jalo was obviously in no hurry to return to the room. Instead, he held court with a group of younger players, who were hanging, starstruck, on his every word.
“I’m gonna head up,” Scott said. “Don’t let these guys stay up too late.” He said it with a teasing tone, so he wouldn’t sound like such a dad. But he knew his role on this team. He wasn’t Jalo. He was the boring, responsible one.
The boring, responsible one who was going to call his fuckingboyfriendright now!
Scott had hitcallon his phone before the hotel room door had even clicked shut behind him. It was nearly ten o’clock.
“Hey,” Kip said when he answered. His voice was quiet.
“Are you at my place?”
“No, I’m home. I’m gonna stay here tonight. Maybe your place tomorrow night.”
“Are your parents going to... Will they be wondering where you are?”
“Are you asking if I’ve told them about us?”
“No!”
“I haven’t. But I’m a grown man and they can probably guess why I don’t come home some nights.”
