The image of Blanchard’s stunned face as Jin aggressively attacked him for his phone number had Jett’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“What is that demon child saying now?” said Harrison’s voice above him, making Jett jump.
“Don’t ask,” said Jett, looking up to see Harrison’s stern expression. “Save that tidbit of drama for the hotel room where we can laugh our asses off about it.”
Harrison crossed his arms and frowned. Jin was eventually going to succeed in giving his twenty-five-year-old boyfriend heart problems.
Coach Adams pulled Harrison away to go over last-minute strategies, and Jett took the time to hydrate and get himself in the zone. Mid-level team or not, he wanted to walk away with the win tonight.
He was so deep in thoughts about scoring winning goals and having celebratory sex in his hotel room, he didn’t realize Harrison had started speaking until he was a few sentences in.
“Having Cote on the first line has shifted something for this team, so we’re going to keep that momentum going to the end. The Barbarians have solid defence, but the guys on their first line are the only ones capable of scoring goals, and they’re no match for our second or third line.”
Oops, sorry Derek and Leland.
“The Sandford kid is decent, so keep plays on the right if you can. Their goalie is awful, but he’s especially slow at blocking high shots, so you know what that means.”
“Top shelf, baby!” Wolf shouted, his words followed by a clamour of clapping from the other guys.
Harrison nodded. “Right.”
God, he looked so fucking hot like this. The sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, biceps bulging and that grumpy frown that spoke of five different levels of offended. Jett wanted to tear his eyes away from him, but his gaze was glued to vibrant blue eyes and the dark stubble that Harrison had let grow out over the last few days.
He needed to marry this man. He needed to marry him today and give him a baby or something. It was the only thing he could think of that would express how much he fucking loved him.
“Let’s get out there and start our 4-game trip right, fellas.”
Jett cheered with the others, laughing when Ryan clapped Harrison on the shoulder.
“What Killinger said! Let’s get the fucking W!”
They returned to the ice to a roar of mixed reactions—cheers rang out loud and proud, but were undercut by a scattering of boos that echoed through the arena. Jett’s line, along with Wolf and Patrickson, glided to their positions, each taking their place with practiced precision as the first notes of the national anthem began to play.
“You know you’re almost even with Park for points right now, don’t you?” Bracken asked once the anthems ended, and they were drifting to center ice.
Jett did indeed know that. Jin told him off at least once a day because of it.
“Let’s get you a couple more points,” said Bracken. “I want to rub it in his face before we get a few days off.”
“I’m game,” said Jett. He bumped fists with his captain and took his place outside the circle, sidling up next to the Barbarian captain, Brad Hersey.
“Fraser, how you doing, buddy?” Hersey said jovially.
“I’m great, Herse.”
Their captain waswaytoo friendly for an American. Only until he was trying to crush you into the glass anyway.
“You excited about trying to win tonight? I think you’ll be a little shocked at how good we are these days.”
Hersey was probably referencing the fact that they had just called up a new defenceman from one of the farm teams—some Italian guy who was supposed to be scary as shit. Jett could see him nearby, a massive figure with dark hair and a scowl that could put Harrison’s to shame.
Jett pushed against the captain as the ref blew the whistle and held out the puck. “I highly fucking doubt one guy will make a difference. He’d have to play three positions just to cover all the gaps you guys leave for me.”
The puck hit the ice, and Bracken won the face-off, flicking it back for Wolf to catch and pass to Cote.
Hersey laughed as Jett took off, already confident that Bracken would get the puck to him if he went for the Barbarian net. Sandford tried to cut him off, but Jett had too much momentum going. He would have to risk drawing a penalty if he wanted to stop him.
He saw Cote to his left, struggling to get around the new D-man to pass the puck, but Bracken was open, so he was awkwardly able to catch it.
