Page 41 of Back in the Game (Pride in the Game #1)

Scary even.

A sharp tug on his bad leg made him hiss, and he looked down to see the team physiotherapist, Danny, give him a nervous smile.

“This brace will help support your leg and keep the cold from making it stiff. It will give you a bit of time to skate.” Danny stood and gave him a stern look that only health professionals could give to stubborn athletes.

“But the second it starts to hurt, you need to return and let me make adjustments. You’ve been cleared to skate in short increments, but only as long as I watch you.

No hard stops, and no turns that will twist the leg. We do this my way or not at all.”

He propelled himself toward the center, giving himself enough time to stop.

He had gone through his stretches in the treatment room, so his muscles felt warmed up and ready to go.

It was surprising what the smallest amount of physio could do, but this was as good as it would get.

There wasn’t a chance he would play again, but he could at least be out here helping coach this circus to victory.

The guys were starting to filter onto the ice, having had their fill of food and time to digest it before gearing up for practice.

Harrison eyed Wolf as he approached. The big German defenceman would have been an intimidating sight to any rookie, but Harrison wasn’t bothered by the broad-shouldered ball of aggression, even with him smiling like the loose cannon he was.

“Killinger, look at you,” said Wolf in his heavy accent. “You are a beast of a guy on the ice for sure. No wonder our little ferret is so smitten with you.”

Wolf, who was 6’3, was a few inches shorter than Harrison. He could see the way it irritated the hell out of Wolf when he had to look up.

“Ferret?” Harrison wasn’t sure he liked that nickname. “You mean Jett, right? ”

Wolf grinned, tapping his stick to the ice like an excited dog thumping its tail on the floor.

“Yes, Jett. He’s small and fast, and vicious as fuck.

Not many smaller players able to take hits like Fraser can.

Did you see that game we had against Vancouver last week?

Their D-man is three times the size as our ferret, but he still went down when Jett slammed him into the boards.

Blood all over the place from a tiny cut, and Jett walked away with no injuries. Fucking fantastic.”

Harrison had seen the game. He had nearly turned blue from holding his breath when he saw August Snow, their star defenceman, get away with a dirty check against Wolf, and then Jett losing his shit to chase after him.

Snow was almost 7 feet tall on skates, more suited to playing football or basketball than hockey, but Jett hadn’t hesitated when he flew across the ice to shove Snow into the boards, breaking the glass in the process.

It earned Jett a penalty for roughing, but Harrison, despite being breathless, had been impressed as hell. Jett was the kindest, sweetest, most caring person he had ever met, but when it came to hockey, he was entirely different.

“I saw the game,” said Harrison, unable to hold back a smirk. “Jett is a great player. Not that I’m biased or anything.”

“You lie, but I’m in agreement,” said Wolf. “Hell, he almost made me switch teams. I could have kissed him for that one. I like it when he’s aggressive. Gets my blood hot.”

Jett had warned him before about Wolf’s inability to understand social cues. Harrison didn’t believe Wolf was trying to piss him off by talking about Jett like he wanted him, but it didn’t stop it from being irritating.

“Wolf!” Bracken called from the bench. “Get away from Killinger before he punches you. And don’t act like you’re not running your mouth, because I know you fucking are!”

Wolf’s smile turned pinched as his captain’s words echoed over the sound of talking and pucks smacking against walls.

“That guy fucks me off,” Wolf said with all seriousness, and then he picked up his stick and skated away at top speed.

Harrison turned with a shake of his head, only to bump into Jett, who had come up behind him .

“Harrison…” Jett’s honey-brown eyes were wide with excitement as he looked up at him. He was wearing his gear, looking so good it was distracting. His blond, curly hair was already damp with sweat from his warmup, and his freckled cheeks were flushed red, already giving away his line of thought.

“You like seeing me on the ice again, Fraser?”

Jett bit his lip and gave an enthusiastic nod. “Sorry, it’s just—I didn’t expect to see you out here.”

“Coach needs eyes on the ice and someone to coach the game,” said Harrison. “He doesn’t like the sugar-coating methods that his assistant coaches use. He’s a man of facts and seems to think I can give them to him.”

Jett frowned. “And your leg?”

Harrison sighed, mostly in irritation thinking about all the damn paperwork he had to sign that morning.

“The conditions were clear when I took this job. I help Adams in every way he needs, which includes being out here with you idiots. But it also means I need to take better care of myself and my leg to do my job. That means physio, wearing a brace, massage and every other therapy out there, is scheduled for me. And I have to show up or I get in shit.”

“Oh fuck,” said Jett. “He assigned Danny to you?”

Harrison’s expression answered the question.

Jett placed a hand on his arm. “Sorry, man. That guy is a menace. You will never know peace.”

Harrison scoffed. “I’m sensing that. But I’m willing to put up with the interfering if it means being able to work with you.”

His words affected Jett as he knew they would. His blush lit up his face in the most adorable way. God, they hadn’t had enough time last night to get reacquainted. Harrison needed at least another 24 hours to fully fuck the cute aggression out of his system.

Harrison ducked his head so he could whisper, “I don’t want to wait for you at home. I want to be with you—that’s why I came here.”

He heard Jett’s breath catch, but he turned away from him out of embarrassment so he couldn’t see his expression.

“I took this job because I knew what it meant, so stop worrying about me. I can handle my medical shit and help the team—help you win the Stanley Cup. This is more purpose than I’ve had in a long time, Jett, so thank you.”

Jett abruptly looked back at him, determination filling his eyes. “I love you, Harrison. You don’t need to thank me. I want you here, and I want you to be happy.”

“I am,” said Harrison, and he meant it. “Now stop stressing over me. You have a practice to get through and a game to win tonight.”

“A game against Montreal,” said Jett. “I’m going to kick Arlo’s ass.”

Jett spun and took off toward the other end of the rink like a shot, using that crazy boost of speed he was known for to clear the ice in seconds. Harrison watched as he fell in behind Wolf, taking easy shots at Powers to get him in the zone.

Bracken came to stop beside him, grinning with the full force of his boyish charm.

“You guys are seriously the cutest. And I know this doesn’t have to be said because it’s obvious, but none of the guys on the team think you’re here to be Jett’s armpiece.

We’re excited to work with you because you technically belong to us. ”

“When I got drafted to the Sunbursts, you mean?”

Bracken started to skate slowly, looking back at Harrison until he got the hint and followed.

“My little brother, Max, is gay,” said Bracken.

“Not to get into our shitty past too deep, but I got drafted to the Sunbursts young, and I had to work damn hard to get to where I am today. I was so focused on hockey that my brother always came last. He was…and still is…a huge nerd, so he was happier being alone in his room and drawing his comics than following my career. I never saw him passionate about himself, only his hobbies, so when he sat me and my parents down and came out to us one night, I was fucking stoked for him. He looked so happy about it, like something had finally clicked into place for him. Only thirteen, and he knew who he was, and I was both jealous and proud. He was all smiles, and then my parents shut him down hard and told him he was delusional. A lot of comparison was made between us. Max couldn’t be gay because I was straight, and I played hockey.

Bracken men were manly, and that was that. ”

Harrison grimaced. This was hitting too close for him, only because of what happened to Arlo .

“That night, I punched my dad in the face,” said Bracken.

“Knocked one of his fucking teeth out, and he cried like a little bitch. Max and I packed our stuff and left that night. I was one month away from turning eighteen, and it was nothing short of a struggle to find a shitty apartment to live in and work full time, using all my money for expenses and saving what I could for hockey. I had talent and needed to make it big to support us, so I never slowed down until I got drafted and ended up on this team right before my nineteenth birthday. Everything I did, I did for Max. He’s my baby brother, even though he’s the same age as you now.

When I told him about you being out and proud, it was the first time he’d ever taken an interest in hockey.

He was obsessed with you, so don’t fucking tell him I’m saying this.

You were, and still are, his hero. So, you can imagine how excited he was that you were coming to play for my team. ”

“And then I got hurt,” said Harrison.

“And then you got hurt.” Bracken was kind enough not to give him a pitying look.

“We were crushed about it. Even Wolfy was upset. But it doesn’t matter to me whether or not your blades touched NHL ice; you never stopped being a member of this team.

You’re still a Sunburst, and Max has the only Killinger jersey to prove it. ”

Harrison didn’t enjoy how awkward and squirmy Bracken’s words made him feel. He also didn’t enjoy the way it made him seem less annoying. He had wanted to stay standoffish toward the captain for a while longer for tormenting purposes, but it was getting harder every day.

“You guys were quick on making the jerseys,” Harrison said, pushing through the silence that had fallen over them. “I didn’t even get to claim my number.”

Bracken’s laugh was sinister, and Harrison didn’t have time to dodge the hand placed on his shoulder, giving him a shake.

“I dunno, I think Jett let that cat out of the bag.”

Laughing, Bracken skated off, giving Harrison a salute as he went to join Jett by the net with Powers. Harrison’s gaze landed on Jett’s back and the number standing out in white against navy blue.

25.