“Would you all please get on the bus so we can debrief on the way to the airport?” His keen eyes looked around, waiting for anyone to talk back, but they all respected their coach too much to do so.
“Bracken, Wolf and Fraser, you’re all getting ice packs and rechecked by the medical team before we get on the plane. And remember not to hide any injuries unless you want me to pull you.”
Jett groaned. He hated being poked and stretched by doctors. He had bruised ribs thanks to Blanchard, and his wrist was still aching. Injuries were something they learned to work through, but Coach was a stickler for keeping his players physically sound at all times.
The guys started talking once Coach was done giving his orders, some breaking off into pairs to get on the bus. The team doctor followed behind Ryan and Jason, knowing their captain would be the first to avoid them.
“Killinger, I want to talk to you before you get on the bus,” said Coach.
Harrison froze beside him, but then he looked down at Jett and gave him a quick nod, silently telling him to go ahead.
Jett eyed Coach and his boyfriend as he walked past them, but both men were so stoic that it was hard to get a read on them. He followed Niko onto the bus and found two open seats at the front. He barely had a chance to sit down before he was handed an ice pack, and John from medical was motioning for his wrist.
Jett was patient as his wrist was stretched and bent in different angles, some more tender than others. He did his best to hide the hickies on his neck, but John was too focused on the purple bruises on his ribs to care about the numerous love marks that Harrison had chewed on him.
“No cracked ribs,” John informed him after some painful prodding. “Keep that wrist iced for the trip back, and we’ll do some pre-game warm-ups at practice, but it’s just swollen from bruising. It will go down after a few days.”
“Thanks,” said Jett. Out of everyone on the medical team, John was his favourite. He was so easy-going and cheerful. “I’ll keep the ice coming.”
John nodded and stood, bumping into Harrison, who was standing behind him. It was comical to watch a big guy like John look up and meet Harrison’s eyes. Jett knew he was tall, but seeing him next to other tall people made it much more obvious.
“Killinger,” said John. “Coach told me and Danny to look out for your leg in the future. He doesn’t want you to overwork the injury withcontinuous exposure to cold and all the standing you guys do. If you have any concerns, don’t hesitate to ask me.”
Jett held his breath. Enough laughter and conversation was happening around them that Harrison wouldn’t be overheard if he said something rude, but he knew how angry he could get in a split second.
“Thanks,” Harrison said in a strained voice. “I’m good.”
John, who now looked a tiny bit nervous, nodded and left.
Harrison dropped into his seat and leaned back, taking a deep breath.
“I was scared you might punch him,” Jett admitted.
Harrison scrunched his nose. “Does it make me a bad person if I thought I would punch him too?”
Harrison’s hair was still out of its bun. The black silkiness was calling out for Jett to touch it. He twisted a strand around his finger like Harrison had done to him the night before, earning a grumpy look from his man.
“Having someone worry about you is not the end of the world.”
“Worry about me?” Harrison leaned into Jett’s space, gripping his chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. “I don’t give a fuck about that. Doctor boy had his hands all over you and it pissed me off.”
Oh.The possessive words made Jett’s insides squirm, but—
“Killinger, he’s adoctor, he has to touch me to make sure I’m not hurt. Do you want me to be hurt?”
The frown Harrison gave him made Jett want to kiss him.
“No, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to kill every person who touches what’s mine.”
Was there a way to tell someone not to treat you like an object but also to keep doing it? Jett didn’t know, but fuck, he needed to figure it out.
“You’re a jealous and possessive bastard,” Jett told him. “It turns me on as much as it makes me want to punch you.”
Harrison smirked, and every ounce of self-respect fled from Jett’s body. “Then I have you right where I want you.”
He couldn’t do this. Jett was already hard and lightheaded from all his blood rushing south. He couldn’t sit beside Harrison for the next few hours, surrounded by people who would witness his debauchery if he mounted him in his seat.
Fuck. He needed to calm down. Jett turned away from Harrison and smacked his head off the glass window, determined to find anything to distract himself.
