Page 30 of Back in the Game (Pride in the Game #1)

His phone dinged again before he could find it, and Ryan groaned.

“Fraser, we’re doing Suicides after practice today. Do I need to remind you how much I hate Suicides?”

There was a muffled, “Fuck you, man.” Followed by snoring.

They were from Mike.

Mike: This is all your fault, you stupid bitch.

Mike: I got kicked off the team because of you and that Townsend prick.

Mike: You gays are always pulling your card. Makes me fucking sick.

Mike: We were supposed to be friends, but I knew the fame would get to your head. You can go to hell.

Mike: Fuck you .

Mike: Next time I see you, Jett, I’m going to put you in your place. I bet I can still make you cry like a baby. Fucking asshole.

Jett must have made a sound of distress because Ryan sat up, his silhouette blotting out the only light they had coming in from the window.

“Jetty?”

“I’m fine,” said Jett, amazed at how normal he sounded. “Go back to sleep.”

Ryan didn’t listen. He got out of bed and strode to his side of the room, tripping on clothes and suitcases.

Jett scrambled to hide his phone, but he wasn’t fast enough. Ryan plucked it from his hand and pushed him away, keeping it out of reach so he couldn’t take it back.

There was a sharp intake of breath, and then Ryan hissed angrily.

“What the actual fuck ? Who is this cocksucker? Tell me he’s a car drive away so Wolf and I can pay him a visit.”

That was not happening. The last thing their team needed was to have their captain and number one defenceman thrown in jail for murdering an idiot.

“Fraser—”

“He’s the captain of the team I played with during those off-season games,” said Jett, trying to think of a way to defuse Ryan’s anger before he had a situation on his hands. “It sounds like he got banned from playing hockey because of his attitude problem, but he’s blaming it on me.”

He couldn’t see Ryan’s expression in the dark, but he could practically hear him seething.

“I’m not worried about it,” Jett continued. “I was already going to drop him as a friend, so I think he’s realizing that and is trying to blow off steam.”

“Blow off steam?” Ryan scoffed and marched across the room, flipping on the light switch without a warning. “Calling you the F word is not blowing off steam, Jett. That’s hard-core discrimination.”

Jett was rubbing his sore and blinded eyes, but he looked up in time to see Ryan thrusting his phone at his face.

“Call your agent. This needs to be shut down now . ”

Jett took his phone and stared at it. “Call her this early in the morning? She’s already stressed out because I’m filming for that Gatorade commercial today.”

“Dude.”

Jett deflated and flopped onto the bed. “I’ll do it as soon as I’m awake.” He glanced at Ryan and crinkled his nose, quickly looking away again. “Also, your dick is out. I can’t have a serious conversation with you while you’re naked—which is like, all the fucking time.”

Ryan snatched his blanket from the bed, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cloak to cover what he could. “I’m sorry if I hate how clothes feel. My teeth will ache if I sleep with anything on.”

Jett rolled his eyes before he closed them. “Have you ever talked to anyone about that? You sound like you’re on the neurospicy scale somewhere.”

Ryan paused.

“The what scale?”

Ryan’s confusion made him smile, and it helped soothe the panic that was simmering below the surface. He agreed that he needed to talk to his agent, but what was the harm in doing that tomorrow?

Or…never.

Ryan wandered into the bathroom to start his morning routine, so Jett took advantage of the distraction and got dressed. He pulled on his sweats, a t-shirt he had stolen from Harrison’s room, and his Sunburst hoodie.

He looked like a rumpled mess, but he didn’t care. He was only going to the rink, and his rental had tinted windows. He knew his hair looked like a bird’s nest, but that’s why helmets were great.

Jett escaped the room and was jogging down the hall when the door next to him opened, and Niko Cote staggered into his path. The kid looked less put together than him, which wasn’t surprising. He couldn’t imagine he was having an easy time of things while bunking with Jason.

“Hey!” Jett swung an arm over his shoulders, steadying the rookie before he fell over. “Where are you heading this early in the morning?”

Niko was a quiet guy, but even with the scowl, Jett was sure he wasn’t a curmudgeon like Ryan was .

“Anywhere that doesn’t have dinosaurs ,” said Niko.

“Powers has them everywhere, and some of them roar and growl. And when their batteries die, they start crying for help by screeching loudly without pressing the button. I thought I was about to get mounted by a tetradactyl because it was so loud, and Powers wouldn’t wake up to help his child , so I left before the rest of my sanity did. ”

It was the longest sentence Jett had heard him speak, and it happened to be hilarious.

Jett laughed and ruffled his messy black hair. “Goalies are crazy. I’ve never met a normal one.”

“Rose seems semi-normal,” said Niko hesitantly, glancing at Jett to confirm.

Jett shook his head. “Nope. That one crochets human organs and tries to build a person out of them.”

He wished he was joking, and judging by the look on Niko’s face, he regretted everything about their conversation.

“Going to the rink?” Jett asked, trying to move on from the topic of their bizarre goalies. “I can drive you. I bet the staff are already there preparing for the team breakfast.”

Niko nodded, looking at his feet while Jett led him away. He must have used up his word count for the day because he didn’t talk on the drive to the rink, nor did he talk in the dressing room while they were lacing their skates.

Coach Adams was there before the sun came up as always, and he stopped in to check on them and say good morning.

Niko and Coach had a similar quiet mindset.

Adams was different from most coaches since he’d never played hockey, but he was a genius in sports math , whatever the hell that meant.

Media and certain people in the league liked to mock him for being a nerdy, scrawny-looking dude, but no one could deny that he got results.

The Sunbursts had been tracking upward in the league since he’d joined, and he was a likeable guy.

“Are you going to play better today?” Adams asked him curtly.

“I’ll try my best, Coach.” Jett gave him a salute, which seemed to pacify the serious man.

Adams stared at him for an awkward minute and then left .

Niko finally spoke again, startling Jett, who had forgotten he was there.

“He’s…”

“On the autism spectrum,” said Jett, clarifying it so the rookie didn’t have to tiptoe around the subject.

“He told us when he was hired and apologized for his conversational skills, but we don’t care.

He’s a great coach—like really great. And he can be a hard ass too because the quiet staring sometimes does more than yelling and cursing.

He’s just not great at motivational speeches, or firing us up before games, but we have Cap for that. ”

Niko frowned, finishing with his left skate to work on his right. “This team is…eccentric. I’m not used to it, so sorry if I’m acting awkward.”

Niko wasn’t wrong, the Sunburst were out to lunch in terms of professionalism.

They had been at the bottom for so long that laughing was the only way to get through the disappointment of losing games.

But then Jett was drafted, and they picked up Powers as a rookie goalie and bounced back.

It was hard to lose the goofy attitude after their veteran players had been through the trenches for so long, so they didn’t bother changing.

Jett liked the vibe of this team. He had wanted to be a Sunburst for other reasons, but the relief he felt when he first met his teammates, and they turned out to be amazing, was immediate.

Jett went quiet for so long that Niko began kicking his leg and fidgeting his hands. He looked stressed for someone drafted to the best team in Canada.

“I’m…” Niko hesitated, and Jett offered a smile of encouragement. “I respect the hell out of you, Fraser. Sometimes I slip into the mindset of hiding who I am without meaning to, but playing with you so far has been eye-opening.”

Jett turned and gave him his full attention because he could tell Niko was trying to tell him something.

Niko sighed like he was trying to relieve pressure. “I might be…a little gay.”

Grinning, Jett raised an eyebrow. “Just a little?”

That earned him an elbow to the chest and strained laughter.

“Okay, I’m more than a little gay. Sorry if it’s difficult for me to say it out loud. ”

Their quiet laughter echoed through the empty locker room, and Jett found himself swinging a casual arm over Niko’s shoulder again.

“We got you, buddy. Don’t ever feel like you have to hide who you are on this team.

The guys are bigger divas than me when it comes to inclusion, and they don’t take shit from the lingering homophobes in the league.

They’ll seriously lose their shit if they find out their rookie is gay.

You couldn’t ask for better friends, but I won’t tell anyone if it makes you uncomfortable. ”

Being gay in the NHL was more accepted these days. Discrimination wasn’t just frowned upon—it was taken seriously and punished if reported. Players from big cities often had an easier time, but for others like Niko, who came from smaller, more conservative towns, it was still a struggle.

It could take a while to build trust, but Jett knew he would get there.

“I don’t care if you tell the guys.” Niko sighed again, and his posture relaxed, as if the tension had drained from his body. “I didn’t know how to say it, but I wanted to tell you first.”

Jett yanked him closer and dug his knuckles into Niko’s head, laughing when he cried out and squirmed.

“Thanks for trusting me, rookie. Don’t be shy to ask me for advice, but stay away from Wolf. He’s the worst wingman ever—don’t ask. Just listen, absorb and make sure to keep it in mind when he offers to find you a date.”

Niko shoved him away, and Jett was pleased to see his cheeks flushed from laughter and smiling. It cleared the sullen air he had gathered around himself since showing up for camp.

“Don’t ask Wolf for help. Noted.”

Jett stopped harassing him so he could finish lacing his skates and took a second to message Arlo. He wanted to talk to him about the Mike situation since his name had been mentioned in the texting barrage, which was still ongoing.

He tried not to let his heart sink when he read the hateful messages, but it hurt. It was impossible that he had anything to do with Mike getting thrown off the team, but guilt was his constant friend, and it always showed up even when he didn’t need it to.

He sent screenshots to Arlo just in case Mike hadn’t contacted him and put his phone away so he could get on the ice and warm up .

He didn’t make it two steps away from the bench he was sitting on when the door to the hall burst open, and Arlo strode inside, panting heavily.

“ You. ”

Jett pointed a finger at himself. “Me?”

He wasn’t expecting it, but he wasn't upset when Arlo charged at him and wrapped him in a hug. Mini Killinger wasn’t as broad as Big Killinger, and he didn’t smell the same or have the deep voice, but damn it felt good.

“I thought you might be here,” said Arlo, drawing far enough away so their eyes could meet. “I started getting messages two hours ago from Mike, and I knew he would be coming after you too, so I wanted to see you and make sure you’re okay.”

Jett blinked, taking time to allow his brain to process what was happening.

“Who’s the stalker now?” Jett asked. “How did you find me?”

“The tracking app I enabled on your phone when you weren’t looking,” Arlo replied sarcastically. “Also, irrelevant. How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Arlo let go of him and stepped back so he could fold his arms and try to look intimidating. “You and Harrison deserve each other. You’re the biggest bunch of bullshitters I’ve ever met.”

Jett thought he had mastered the art of hiding his anxiety, but not when it came to Arlo…or Harrison. Hell, even Ryan was catching on to him.

"I'm alone," Jett said, then immediately winced. He hadn't meant to let that slip. "I mean—I'm fine. I can handle it. You didn't have to come all this way. I know you’ve got practice and everything."

Arlo tapped his foot, silently waiting for more.

Jett worked through the breathing exercises he’d learned about online to calm his racing heart. He wasn’t used to being read so easily, and it threw him off guard. He didn’t want to think about Mike because he felt like it was his problem to solve, no matter what Arlo’s involvement was, but—

“I’m…maybe freaking out,” Jett admitted. “This is one more thing that can distract me from playing the best for my team, and I don’t know how to handle it. All I want is for Mike to go away, and for Harrison to be closer than a goddamn plane ride so I can stop worrying about him. ”

Arlo’s mouth tilted into a frown. “Worried about him? The guy has survived in the woods for five years without you, so I think he’s fine.”

Jett would have thought the same thing if he hadn’t found Harrison numbing himself in an ice water shower to the point of hypothermia.

“I’m getting a restraining order against him,” said Arlo, thankfully missing Jett’s dive into darker memories. “And you need to do the same. It’s the only thing that will make him stop.”

His feet were aching, and his anxiety was climbing. Jett needed to get on the ice before this turned into a full-blown panic attack. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

Arlo flicked his forehead, and Jett hissed and cursed. “Don’t think about it, do it.”

Jett rubbed his forehead and scowled. “If it will make you go away, then I will. Now go back to your team before the dating rumours about us start again. I don’t want to look at your face anymore.”

“Jackass.” Arlo pushed him, making Jett wobble in his skates. “We both know that’s a lie. I look too much like Harrison for you to hate looking at me.”

Jett’s cheeks warmed, and he flipped Arlo off. He found it ironic how he wanted to kill one Killinger and save the other.

“Go back to your training, fucking rookie,” said Jett, sticking his tongue out at Arlo.

Arlo returned the one-fingered salute, but at least he was laughing.