Page 75 of Back in the Game (Pride in the Game #1)

There were two more scuffles on the ice, and Jett got thrown into the bin for a minor tripping penalty. By the time the clock ran out, everyone was exhausted.

Entering the locker room, you wouldn’t think the Sunbursts had lost. The guys were laughing and shouting, rehashing the plays and reenacting the fights excitedly like a bunch of kids. There was a lot of roughhousing and congratulatory smacks, mostly for Cote and Jett.

Niko, whose face was swollen and starting to bruise after his unfortunate encounter with a stick blade.

Jett, who had an awesome first game back, held his own against Campanelli despite the outward hatred being spewed at him.

Cote was rewarded MVP and got to take Fenwick home, in place of his broken tooth, according to Wolf.

And Jett—God, Harrison was so proud of him. When it was happening, he had been terrified for his sunshine boy. But he had looked that awful reporter in the eye and smiled, making it seem like she was the problem.

“Next time, you fucking kiss,” said Wolf, gesturing between him and Jett. “And I’m not talking little kisses on the cheek. I want tongue.”

Harrison could barely contain his laughter as he locked eyes with Jett, who had stopped mid-way through taking his gear off to stare at the German man.

“Just for clarification,” Jett drawled, grinning up at Wolf, who was towering over him. “Do you want me to kiss you or Killinger?”

“No, not—”

“Because I don’t mind giving you some lip action, Wolfy.”

“Ferret, that’s not— ”

“You’re a handsome fella. It’s not like it would be a chore.”

“Fraser—” Wolf folded his arms, eyes narrowed on the golden, curly-haired minx. “Obviously I want you to kiss Killinger. I don’t know why you tease me about this when you are the one who started it.”

“It was one kiss and one game win,” said Harrison. “How does that make it a thing?”

Wolf’s intense gaze turned on him, and Harrison smirked. “I watch you like hawk, Killinger. When I see you two sneak kisses in the locker room, we win. I can ask Coach to show you the statistics if you need them.”

“How about we agree to kiss before every game if you stop watching us like a pervert?” Jett suggested, giving Wolf an overexuberant smile.

“Wolfy, leave them alone for Christ’s sake.” Bracken dragged the unruly defenceman back to his cubicle and scolded him until he started gearing down with the rest of them.

Jett stood and leaned into Harrison so he could say something without risking being overheard. “Should we remind him that we had that kiss between first and second period or…?”

“Nope,” said Harrison. “I refuse to give him any more ammo to force us into doing shit before games. Next thing you know, we’ll be jerking each other off in the bathroom stalls before a match.”

Jett hummed, and the sound of it was like a suggestive purr. Harrison was instantly reminded they hadn’t had sex in over two weeks, and that one simple sound had his hair standing on end.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be against it.”

Robert shyly shuffled into the room—abruptly extinguishing the arousal burning through his blood.

“It’s Big Fraser!” Cormier yelled, bringing all attention to Robert, who smiled and waved awkwardly, reminding Harrison far too much of Jett. “Come join us, Pops! We’re going out for drinks to celebrate that awesome game.”

Robert shook his head disbelievingly at Cormier’s cheerfulness. “You boys are too comfortable with losing. You’re like a bunch of squirrels in a nut tree.”

“The fuck did he just say?” Wolf turned to Bracken for answers. “Was that English?”

“If I were your coach,” Robert continued, ignoring Wolf’s confusion. “I would set you boys straight.”

“Say that to Jetty, but slower,” Powers called out, and the room erupted into laughter.

Harrison waited until the noise died down before he took control of the chaos. “I agree with Mr. Fraser. We have momentum now, so let’s kick ass in our next game, and finish the road trip on a high note.”

“Agreed,” said Adams, appearing out of nowhere like he often did. “Curfew is at eleven. We need to be on an early plane tomorrow for Boston and practice after that. Three drink limit, please, unless you’re a lightweight, then it’s two.”

“You heard the coaches, boys!” Bracken clapped his hands together. “Play hard, drink smart.”

They applauded in agreement, and there was a flurry of motion as every guy in the room scrambled to get undressed and into the showers. The curfew gave them some time, but the more they wasted here, the less they had for fun.

“I’m going to catch a ride back to the hotel and hit the sack,” said Robert, elbowing Harrison’s side gently. “My plane leaves a lot earlier than yours, so I need to get me some shuteye.”

His words made Jett pause, and he eyed his father nervously. “What do you mean? We’re going to Boston together tomorrow.”

Robert shook his head. “No, my boy. I’m going to journey home so I can get everything set up for you guys when you stop by for Christmas. I left the house in a mess, and I need to decorate and go grocery shopping so I can make your favourite Christmas lasagna.”

Jett’s posture wilted, and Harrison could see that he was upset over his father leaving. But if Robert wanted to leave, then they couldn’t make him stay.

“Harrison has got you now, Jetty-boy,” Robert continued, and everything about the man radiated how much he adored his son.

“You made it through the bump in the road just like I knew you would, because you’re the strongest kid I know.

I’m a phone call away if you need me, but your guy has a good head on his shoulders—so don’t be scared to lean on him too. ”

Harrison frowned at the unfamiliar feeling tightening his diaphragm. It had been a very long time since someone trusted him like this. Not since Luca—he couldn’t remember the last time someone had confidence in him to take care of himself, let alone another person.

He didn’t take the suggestion lightly. He would do anything to protect Jett—anything at all. Robert had no idea how far he would go to keep him safe.

“I know I can rely on Harrison,” Jett mumbled, cheeks staining red. “I’m still sad you’re leaving.”

Robert drew his son into a hug and rubbed him roughly on the back. “You’ll see me in two days, so don’t waste time being sad. It was a great game tonight. I love watching you play, Jetty-boy. I’m so proud of you.”

Jett’s eyes were locked onto Harrison over Robert’s shoulder. He saw the tears clinging to his lashes as he nodded his head aggressively in response to his father’s praise.

After the hug, Jett excused himself so he could wash and get ready to go, and Harrison said his goodbyes to Robert. He shook the older man’s hand, hoping he could convey how grateful he was with his smile.

“You’re a great dad,” Harrison admitted before Robert could scurry away. “Jett is lucky to have you.”

Robert pointed a scolding finger at him. “Don’t forget, you have me now too, Harrison. If you want to marry my boy, then that’s the way it has to be between us.”

Harrison made a gesture of surrender, and Robert graced him with one last smile before he turned and left the room, whistling an old country tune to himself as he walked away.

Harrison snorted at Robert’s behaviour. He sat and waited for Jett to return, nodding and conversing with the other guys as they returned from their showers to get dressed.

Bracken had apparently picked a venue, so the whole team was on the move, eager to get out and enjoy the warmer climate that Florida had to offer.

Harrison eventually checked his phone and saw the absurd number of notifications from the group chat. These people really didn’t have anything better to do than sit around and gossip like a bunch of old ladies over tea.

Jin: 10$ says Campanelli is closeted

Arlo: No way. The guy is like…way too boring to pull a plot twist like that out of his ass

Jin: More like a giant dildo out of his ass

Bash: I’m not adding anything to this conversation

Jin: Good thing no one asked for your opinion

Arlo: Shit, Wolfy is on fire tonight

Jin: Can confirm, he throws a good punch

Arlo: Can confirm he has a big dick to match that energy

Jin: Really?

Arlo: Fuck, look at his hair. The guy is sex on a stick

Arlo: And yes, he was big enough to choke me

Harrison grimaced. He didn’t need to think about the shit Arlo got up to.

Bash: Gross

Harrison agreed.

Jin: Okay, that’s good to know, but I meant is he really into guys? I could have sworn that one was straight

Arlo: Not anymore

Jin: LOL

Jin: Is this some new tactic? Montreal infiltrates Toronto so they can win more games?

Arlo: It was more like Toronto was infiltrating Montreal’s mouth

étienne: Alright. Enough.

Harrison: Fucking thank you. Arlo, shut the fuck up

“Why are you making a face?”

Harrison jumped and hid his phone so Jett couldn’t see the filth he was dealing with. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Oh god.” Jett sat next to him, wearing only a towel and his non-slip sandals. “Now I have to know.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Harrison muttered. He would have said more, but his eyes caught on a bead of water as it dripped off the tip of Jett’s hair and landed on his shoulder, staying there for a second before it slid down a firm pec and ridges of abs .

Harrison swallowed roughly to wet his throat, ogling Jett while he found his phone and unlocked it to read the messages. Every movement had more water droplets falling onto golden skin, where they made a show of rolling over all his favourite parts to disappear into the towel.

Jett didn’t notice his precarious situation because he was too busy looking at his phone with wide-eyed horror.

“Told you,” Harrison said, his voice coming out lower than he meant to.

It was unfortunate timing when Wolf walked into the room naked and still wet from his shower.

“Jett, I want to change your mind about not wanting to come out with us.”