Page 139 of Hockey Bois
Nick Porter: i’m in for friday. can’t wait. i’m a little rusty though.
Gail King: I thought you and Jensie were working out
Gail King: Lots of cardio
Donnie Owen: Then you should be good to go you’re always in better shape than half the team anyway
Brady Derek Jensen: there’s an open skate thursday night if you wanna get your skating legs back
Gail King: Is this an open invitation??
Brady Derek Jensen: yes
Gail King: Look at you calling my bluff
Brady Derek Jensen: just remember that if we ever play on opposing teams
Alex Warner: NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO CHANGE TEAMS WE ARE A CHAMPIONSHIP TEAM WITH NO SALARY CAP NO ONE LEAVES
Chapter Fifteen: July
“Good to see you there, champ,” Young Greg said when Nick walked into the locker room.
“‘Champ’?” Nick had already felt weird carrying around his hockey bag, the weight strangely unfamiliar after a few weeks off. The nickname didn’t help.
“Yeah, I was trying something out. I’m not happy about it either,” Young Greg said. “Where you been, bro?”
Thatfelt better, and Nick smiled in relief. He wasn’tthatfar removed from the ice, especially after that open skate with Brady the other day.
He let his bag fall from his shoulder and shrugged, both to answer and to stretch out his muscles. They were tensing up, and he felt the same jitters he remembered from last August.
Shit, he’d almost been doing this hockey thing a whole year, and he couldstillget nervous. Would thateverchange?
“Work,” he finally said in answer to Young Greg’s question. “Lots of work. Been dead on my feet trying to get stuff done.”
“Lame,” Young Greg said.
“You even understand the concept of work?” GG scoffed. “Kid like you even out of high school yet?”
“Yes,Dad. I’m an undergrad.” Young Greg gestured down to his faded Retrievers shirt, a derpy dog Nick remembered from his own tenure at the local college.
GG ignored him. “Good to have you back, Nicki. Might actually score with you on our line.”
“Excuse you!?” Young Greg sputtered. “Who got the GWG last game?”
“Jensie.”
“Yeah, but it was offmyassist.”
They continued bickering the whole time Nick got ready—mixing up the order of his shin guards vs hockey pants like a damn amateur—and didn’t stop when Brady arrived and pointedly put himself between Nick and their chirping.
“Hey,” Brady said, voice soft and fond despite the completely normal circumstances of being in a crowded locker room together.
“Hey,” he said back, and his stupid voice betrayed his sentimentality. Time to autocorrect. “I hear you’re scoring goals without me around.”
“What, I can only score with you?” Brady asked. He was entirely straight-faced, but Nick could see his eyes shining. He was teasing, maybe thinking about the busy night they’d had after they got back from practicing at the rink.
“Well, I’m pretty good at it,” he countered.
