Page 46 of Scoring Zone
“You’re a lifesaver.” King digs out a cloth-covered band and waves as he exits the room.
“I found your note and want to do bad things to you, but we already almost got caught kissing. I know better than to do something so risky.” My hands are in my pockets so I don’t reach for him.
“Don’t apologize. I’ve heard no is a complete sentence, and I can say it.” His eyes dance with amusement as he holds out his hand for me to bandage. “You can do those things later.”
I quickly switch out the bandage since there’s no actual reason for it besides his need to change here instead of the locker room.
“Thanks, Sunshine.” He pecks my lips, leaving me stunned with both the kiss and the nickname as he saunters away. It will end badly for me if we get caught before telling the team. We might be breaking the rules together, but I’m expendable—he’s not.
Pregame treatments are a blur, and before I know it, the team’s out on the ice. The Minneapolis fans electrify the stadium and players to a fast-paced start. I can’t keep my eyes off Austin.His confidence on the ice is unparalleled. The puck drops, and he’s off like a shot, all explosive energy and grace.
Drake loses the face-off, but Austin strips their winger, and our first line is unstoppable. Lucky and Drake seem to read each other’s minds and pull all of Minnesota’s defense to them, leaving Austin wide-open.
He scores the first goal, and my chest swells with pride.
Watching Austin has never interfered with my job until tonight. Every few minutes, I have to give myself a mental shake to pay attention to the other players on the ice. Track their movements and expressions for tells indicating pain. A hockey player can bleed out and look me dead in the eyes, swearing it’s just a scratch and he can play. Half my job is dissecting their play before they complain. If they’re complaining, shit is bad.
They play with minor and nagging injuries, and tonight they aren’t showing any signs of stress or pain. But I stay vigilant in between staring at the hottest man on the planet playing incredible hockey, earning three points between goals and assists.
Minnesota isn’t going down without a fight. Our offense is skating circles around them, but our defense is average at best, which makes it a high-scoring game. We’re tied at four in the third period.
This is prime injury time, and I check in with each player after their shift to stare them in the eye, seeing what they won’t say out loud. So far so good, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that will take us through the end of the game.
The team wins by one in a nail-biter, and no one has an injury that requires more than my examination and instructions to use ice and heat. We’re headed for the playoffs again; I can sense it with the way the team is gelling. Our defense needs improvement, but luckily Liska and Benz can save impossible shots.
It’s a fast turnaround, so the guys are drinking in the hotel bar instead of going out. The team has taken over and spread out between the bar and tables. We push together three high tops to stand around.
I purposely put distance between Austin and me to avoid any accidental telltale contact.
King steps up to the top of the tables. “I made a decision, and just want to run it by y’all.” His bright eyes laugh at our confusion.
“If you’re looking to be traded, the answer is no,” Drake says with no inflection.
“Agreed.” Austin holds up his half-empty glass.
“Daddy Drake and our captain have laid down the law. Hope it’s something else.” Lucky nips at Drake’s ear.
King clenches his jaw and sighs. “No. It’s not a trade.”
“Spill it, work husband once removed,” Benz says, and Leo growls. “What?” Benz can’t pull off the innocent act. “He’s Griff’s work husband, and I’m Griff’s BFF, so he’s my work husband once removed.”
King shakes his head, and I’m afraid he might leave.
“Ignore them. What’s up?” I ask.
He wraps a hand around one of his braids and tugs. “There was so much shit about what I said about being on the queer spectrum, I should walk out onto the ice during Pride Night.”
Our group is uncharacteristically silent. Since we have out men and women in our organization, our new tradition is that they take center ice before the game to show solidarity and show representation for fans and the LGBTQ community.
“That’s admirable, but you don’t owe the public your private life if you’re not ready.” I round the table and slap him on the back. He’s not a touchy-feely person, but it seems important to show my support.
“I’d be letting young guys down who look up to me if I don’t take a stand. None of the out players look like me, and representation matters.” King cracks his knuckles.
Lucky clears his throat. “Seriously, this is a big decision. You have time to think it over, but your life won’t be the same afterward. Drake and I have each other, Liska has Trevor, and Benz has Leo. We all have someone to lean on and experience the uncomfortable and hurtful moments with us. Are you seeing anyone?”
“No. But my parents support my decision.”
“Lucky’s not implying he doesn’t support you. We all do, and we all stand behind you,” Drake says, and we nod in agreement. “It can be easier when you have a partner, but that complicates things as well. You’ve seen me lose it when someone makes a derogatory comment about my man.” He grips Lucky around the waist and kisses his temple. “Fortunately, you’re on the right team.”
