Page 9 of Power Move
“Thanks.” Remy presses his hand to his chest. “Gio and Phil are looking downstairs. Morgan's checking upstairs. Soren’s chopping up some treats to see if we can lure Benny out, then he’ll help me search my rooms.” He pulls out his phone and shows me the photo of the reptile saved as his lock screen. “He’s yellow and answers to Benny, or Benedict.”
“Got it.” Like there are a plethora of bearded dragons running around Saint Paul. “How big is Benny?”
Sage looks under the bed. “Twenty inches long. He can fit through the gap between the door and the floor, and climb stairs, so he could be anywhere.”
As the full length of the album plays, Sage and I peer into every nook and shadow in his rooms and the hall, chatting about bands and concerts. When the album finishes, he puts on another, a greatest hits collection of one of my favorite bands.
Throughout the house, the guys keep calling for Benny and yelling to each other the places they’ve searched.
I open the door to a guest room linen closet, and there’s Benedict, on a stack of towels, peering at me. “Found him.”
Socked footfalls hurry across the floor. “Benny!” Remy slides past me and scoops him up, cradling Benny to his chest. “Thanks for looking, guys. I’m gonna get him settled and fed, and then he and I will have a word about his adventuring ways.”
Sage pats Remy’s shoulder as he passes. He waits in the doorway for me, his gaze dipping to my chest then raising to my lips. “Thanks for helping us look for him.”
“Anytime.” Itching to kiss him, I spy the time on an antique clock atop the fireplace mantel and force myself to take a step back. Kissing him is an experience I want to savor, without being rushed or any distractions. “I better take off. My dad’s a guest commentator for Chicago’s game tonight. I want to call and wish him luck.”
He nods. “I’ll walk you out.”
I follow him down the stairs and into the entryway. He takes my coat from the closet and holds it out for me. “See you at practice.”
“Yep.” I tug the coat on, but leave it open. He looks so good, standing here. It’s like an echo from when I arrived today. “I had a good time.”
“I did, too.” He leans in, fast as a flash, and hugs me. I have seconds to soak in the press of his chest to mine, and the lightest brush of his lips against my cheek. Then they’re gone, and he steps back, a shy smile gracing his lips as he opens the front door.
Cold air sweeps in, rattling the wind chimes hanging outside the door.
I wave and head out into the early evening chill, that buzzing kiss keeping me warm. I’m not sure what this is, but it feels like the start of something good.
CHAPTER 3
SAGE
A charge fillsthe atmosphere at Henderson’s arena. There’s double the amount of people than the last time we played here. Teddy Bear Toss Night will do that. Twelve thousand fans, all waiting for the home team to score so they can lob their stuffed animals onto the ice.
We’re scoreless through a period and a half of play. Soren’s been amazing in goal, and having Rhys here has elevated our team.
Facing off against Henderson’s captain, I get into position, my focus on the puck. We lost a pair of games to these guys to start off the season, and that can’t happen again.
The linesman drops the puck. I get my stick on it first and knock it back to Morgan.
He races up the ice, passing it to our line mate, Gordy. Gordy plays it along the boards and gets into a battle with a Henderson defenseman.
The dude kicks it free. I swoop in, dodging a dropped stick, and gain control of the puck. Two Henderson jerseys are coming in hot.
From years of playing together, I know Morgan’s set up in front of the goalie. He’s created an effective screen. Gordy’sready too. I shoot it over to Gordy. He passes it back to me. Then I fire it toward Morgan, aiming for the side of the net. The puck hits the post with a ping, but Morgan’s right there, and flips it over the goalie’s pad, and into the back of the net.
Goal!
The red goal light comes on, and the handful of Slash fans in the arena cheer. I rush to hug Morgan and Gordy. “Nice work, boys.”
Phil and Gio, on defense, join our group hug. As we skate back to our bench, Phil pats me on the back. “I thought your shot was going in.”
“I did too. Damn post getting in the way. Morgan did a great job burying it.” I tap gloves with my teammates, one after the next, going along the front of the bench.
When I reach Rhys and meet his blue-gray gaze, a charge zips through me. A little breathless, I climb over the boards and sit between him and Morgan.
He leans into me. “Nice job.”
