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Zach woke up at six with the alarm, feeling refreshed even though he’d barely gotten five hours of sleep.

By the time he was out of the shower, he had a text back from Marcus, the equipment guy. All set, I’ll take care of it. Be ready by eight .

Zach sent Marcus a thumbs-up and then texted Hayes. Your bribery is coming in really handy.

Hayes replied: Do I wanna know?

I’m just saying if this guy pinged my queer radar at all, I’d say he has a massive boner for you.

So just a hockey boner, then. Disappointing.

Even if it was the regular kind of boner, you’d still be disappointed.

Dating just sucks :(

No, dating just sucks when you’re hung up on someone else. Ever think about getting over it?

Oh, why didn’t I think of that? I’ll get on it right away.

Fuck you.

In your dreams, asshole .

Zach grinned. It was going to be a great fucking day. He was going to get back on the ice. He was going to get Gavin back on the ice.

By eight, he was at the rink, heading towards Marcus’ office. After Zach rapped on the doorframe, Marcus looked up, grinning.

“Hey, Zach,” Marcus said. “I’ve got everything you wanted together, in the coaches’ room. That good?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just wanted to thank you again.”

“Well, of course. Anything for you, and you know, for a friend of Hayes.” Marcus’ eyes glazed over.

Maybe the guy did have a boner for Hayes. Zach should tell him it was impossible, because Hayes only had a boner for one person.

“Too bad he got traded to the Sentinels,” Zach said.

If he hadn’t been, they could’ve done better than a signed jersey.

The Evergreens traveled down to LA several times a year, and even if the timing hadn’t worked out, for a front row seat to Hayes Montgomery, he had a feeling Marcus would have bought a plane ticket.

“Worst day of my life,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, I miss him too,” Zach admitted.

On his way to the locker room, he pulled his phone out and sent Hayes another message. Might be a regular boner. You want his number?

A second later, Zach saw he’d read the text and then the little typing bubbles popped up and then disappeared three times .

He shouldn’t have asked. He was about to say, nevermind, it’s kind of a terrible idea, I don’t know why I thought it was, when Hayes finally replied.

Is he cute?

Would I have suggested it otherwise?

Marcus wasn’t Gavin levels of hotness, sure, but Marcus wasn’t doing too badly for himself. And he was nice. Nicer than some other ex-NHL player Zach could mention.

No. Being with a fan would be weird.

But that wasn’t all that Hayes wanted to say apparently, because three more texts appeared in rapid succession.

That’s what I was to him, wasn’t I?

Some pathetic fan?

God, I’m sorry. Ignore me.

Zach wished he hadn’t said anything, but he could tell it wouldn’t have mattered. Hayes was in a mood. A Morgan-induced mood.

You didn’t tell me everything, but from what I heard, no.

It wasn’t like that. Maybe he’s Morgan Reynolds, but you’re Hayes Montgomery.

Even now, Hayes was close-lipped with the details, but sometimes it was more about what he didn’t say, so he hadn’t even had to confess it all for Zach to know the truth.

Sure, there’d been a light dusting of hero worship, but Hayes was a superstar in his own right.

Every time Hayes forgot that—and it happened regularly—it was impossible not to be annoyed about it.

Sorry.

You’re not the one who should be sorry .

For being way too fucking dramatic? Yeah, I should. Good luck today! Kick ass! Take some names! Don’t kiss Gavin Blackburn!!!!!

Zach was still laughing as he pulled open the door to the coaches’ locker room.

And then he stopped abruptly, nearly swallowing his tongue.

Gavin was already here. Shirtless. Back turned to Zach. And God , what a back it was. Firm with muscle, wide shoulders sloping down towards his trim waist.

He turned, and Zach hoped he’d managed to rearrange his expression into something that wasn’t him panting like a dog in heat.

Hayes had reminded him—and he’d reminded himself—that he was going to need to be patient, but right now the last thing he felt was patience.

“Hey,” Gavin said. “I grabbed an early workout and I know we said nine, but I’m here, and you’re here . . .”

“I wanted to get started too.” It was good that Gavin felt the same way he did. They were going to lead this team, and Zach thought he’d never wanted anything more.

Okay. Well, almost anything more.

“You took care of all the equipment,” Gavin said warmly. “Thanks.”

“Hayes comes in handy.”

Gavin still hadn’t pulled on a shirt, and the front view was even worse than the back. Zach felt his tongue must be hanging out; his crush—and his boner— showing.

How did someone who’d spent the last four years in the middle of fucking nowhere have honest-to-God abs like that? Zach wanted to lick them up and down. Jerk off on them.

Finally, finally , Gavin pulled on a shirt, though it didn’t help much because it was a clingy underlayer, so tight Zach could still see every ridge of muscle.

“Bet he does,” Gavin shot him a weird look. “Are you going to get ready?”

Oh Jesus, he’d just been standing here, completely fucking useless and staring , hadn’t he?

Fantasizing about jerking off all over Gavin. Even doing that, without Gavin touching him, might be the best sex he’d had in years.

Zach flushed. “Uh, yeah. Of course.” Getting naked in a locker room was something he’d done for so many years, it shouldn’t mean anything.

But that had been then, and this was now, and it didn’t matter how many times he’d stripped down in front of his then-coach, it was entirely different to do it now, at twenty-seven.

He shucked his clothes quickly and efficiently, trying not to think about it. Trying not to look up even once, to see if Gavin was looking.

He wouldn’t, of course. Even if Zach wanted him to. Even if Zach knew he had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Ready to go?” Gavin asked when he was dressed.

Zach glanced up, and Gavin’s gaze was warm and his face a little flushed. Had he looked? Well. Now Zach almost wished he’d caught him doing it.

“Yeah, let’s get out there,” Zach said .

Zach wasn’t going to make a big deal out of it, only glancing out of the corner of his eye as he led Gavin out onto the rink. They looped around the ice in slow, careful swaths at first, just warming up.

Hayes always told him it was like riding a bike and that had been true for Zach, and it seemed now it was true for Gavin.

“Feeling good?” Zach said as they came to a stop by the goal.

“Yeah, actually. Feels great.” Gavin was smiling now, wide. “I didn’t think . . .I didn’t think I’d ever have this again. Didn’t know if I . . .well, you know.”

Zach wasn’t sure he did know, and actually he wanted Gavin to tell him. But maybe the most important thing was that Gavin himself knew.

“Yeah,” Zach said. Patted him on the back in the most bro-y, hey I’m your ex-player and now your assistant coach way he could. “Good to have you back.”

“Can’t be as good as it feels to be back.” Gavin sighed happily. “You wanna shoot some pucks?”

Zach wasn’t ever going to say no to that.

He grabbed his stick and a bucket of pucks and headed out, doing a more involved warmup, the way he used to before games.

Gavin continued making slow-ish laps around the ice, staying out of his way, but clearly keeping an eye on what Zach was doing.

“I can only imagine the circles you ran around those guys in the beer league,” Gavin said after he’d shot his first batch of pucks.

“Sort of,” Zach said .

“Come on,” Gavin scoffed. “You look great out here. Like you never left.”

Zach felt himself flush. “Well, it’s one thing to shoot a puck into a net when there’s no defense and no goalie.”

“Can’t do much about the goalie,” Gavin said, reaching behind the boards and grabbing the second stick Zach had stashed there, “but I might be able to do something about the rest.”

Zach told himself not to look—or sound—shocked. “You wanna go?”

Gavin’s shrug was self-deprecating but his eyes were gleaming bold silver under the fluorescent lights. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Zach muttered under his breath and took off, not as fast as he possibly could, but fast enough.

He half-expected to lose Gavin after the first dozen or so feet, but to his surprise, there he was, right with him, after he caught up.

Zach pushed harder, breath coming out in short pants as they whipped around the net.

Gavin shoved his stick in, attempting to steal his puck.

Zach muttered a quiet fuck under his breath and pushed him away with an elbow. But Gavin kept coming, right until Zach finally pushed the puck into the net.

“Shit,” Gavin exhaled sharply, but his smile was even wider now. “Forgot how good you are.” He paused and slid a knowing look towards Zach. “Guess you forgot how good I was, too.”

It wasn’t hot. It shouldn’t be hot. But Gavin still being good at hockey after all this time still lit him up inside.

“Guess I did,” Zach admitted. “Again?”

Gavin smirking at him shouldn’t have been hot either, but it was. “Sure. ”

Twenty minutes later, they were both sweating. Zach had discarded his sweatshirt, wiping his face with it, and yeah, they were both a little rusty, maybe, but the skill was there—and the love.

“I missed this,” Gavin admitted, as he leaned against the boards, trying to catch his breath. “Didn’t know I did—no, that’s not true, either. I did know, but I thought . . .I thought I couldn’t have it. Not again.”

Zach wasn’t going to ask why he’d believed that. Obviously it had something to do with his wife’s death, and with Gavin smiling like that, he wasn’t stupid enough to bring it up.

“Well, I’m glad you could find it again,” Zach said.

“You wanna go over some plays I’ve been drawing out?” Gavin asked.

“Sure,” Zach said.

It wasn’t easy with only two of them, but it was enough to get a good idea of the offense they could implement with their new top line.