Page 2 of Defensive Zone (Chicago Thunder #3)

Chapter One

June – present day

Carter

Sometimes, I wish I had a special power. Be a superhero or a Jedi. I could use the Force to do something good. Like making the offensive players always fumble with the ball, allowing us the easy attack, or in this instance, keeping the puck away from the back of the Thunder’s net.

I would wave my hand like Obi-Wan Kenobi and say, This is not the net you’re looking for.

But I don’t have any kind of superpower, and the Force isn’t with me.

My heart is in my throat as I watch my best friend on the ice, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The Chicago Thunder were so close to making the Stanley Cup Finals.

So damn close .

But Los Angeles got one up on them with a sneaky goal, making it a 4-3 win in double overtime of game seven. Shit. Even just thinking about it rips my heart in two, and I’m not the one on the ice.

Zach lines up to shake the opposing players’ hands. I know he will be congratulating them and wishing them all the best in the finals, because he’s a good guy like that, but me? I’m feeling bitter, and I’m kinda hoping LA will choke in the finals. I know it’s bad sportsmanship to wish bad luck on a team, but still. I really wanted to see Zach and the rest of the Thunder make it to the finals.

After missing out on the Super Bowl in February, I was hoping that I could get a different kind of win this year, even if it was in the form of my best friend’s team.

The crowd claps loudly in support as the Thunder players do a final lap of the ice, holding their sticks in the air in salute, before disappearing down the tunnel, and I take that as my cue to leave.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” I say to Alex. He’s dating the Thunder’s star forward, Blaine Olsen. I’ve been sitting with him and his friend Nate at every game since I arrived in Chicago a few months ago.

His blue eyes are glassy with unshed tears as he turns to me. Alex is a big hockey fan, having followed the team since when he was a kid. He met Blaine at a game back in November when Blaine spilled his beer all over him during warm-ups, and I know his emotions are high right now, not just for his boyfriend but because he’s a fan too.

“I don’t know why this one is hitting harder. They’ve lost before.” His voice trembles.

“Yeah, but you’re on the inside now. Just because it’s not you on the ice doesn’t make you any less part of the journey.”

With a shaky smile, he gives me a hug. “Make sure you look after Zach.”

“I will,” I promise. “Same goes for you with Blaine. I’m sure we’ll see you before we go on vacation. Zach will want to get his sugar fix.”

He lets out a small chuckle. He runs a bakery with his brother Jacob, and Zach has been a regular customer since they opened, feeding his sweet tooth with their delicious baked goods. “I’ll make sure his favorites are ready for him.”

“Thanks, he’ll really appreciate it.”

After saying goodbye to Alex and Nate, I head up the stairs to the concourse and make my way toward the team area.

I know Zach’s going to be gutted about this loss, even if he doesn’t say it outright, so I’m already trying to think of ways I can cheer him up. One positive to having his season end earlier than we’d hoped is the fact we will be able to go on our vacation sooner than we’d planned. We’ve booked a beachfront villa in Hawaii with a private pool. The photos look incredible, and I’ve been daydreaming of surfing at dawn and all the incredible food we’re going to eat.

Just having uninterrupted time with Zach is my favorite time of the year.

Hopefully I can get him feeling a little bit brighter if I can pull it off.

I make a quick stop at the family room to use their facilities, then I wait near the locker room. Leaning back against the concrete wall, I scroll through my phone as I wait for Zach to finish up his post-game cooldown then shower and change. Sometimes it takes ages for him to come out, especially if they’ve won. They like to have post-game singalongs, or, I should say, Elliot Olsen, the Thunder’s goaltender, likes to partake in post-game singalongs, but I don’t think there will be any singing today. I don’t think they will want to stay in this arena any longer than necessary.

When Zach appears, my breath whooshes out of me in a rush. Dressed in a dark gray suit and crisp white button-down, he looks smart and handsome. I often tell him he could be a model if he ever gave up hockey. With his height and incredible body, plus he’s got these icy blue eyes that look so piercing against his dark brown hair.

Without a word, I open my arms, and he steps into them, wrapping his around my waist. I hug him tight, trying to channel that special power I wanted so badly so I could alleviate his heavy feelings.

“Wanna go home?” I murmur into the side of his head.

It’s not really my home, but Zach’s apartment is like a second one for me.

He nods, and when he steps back, my chest clenches at the devastation in his eyes.

Fuck. I wish I could take it away. I would take it on myself if it meant he was free of it.

We’re silent on the drive back to his apartment. I put on his favorite playlist, and he gazes aimlessly out the window. His silence doesn’t worry me, though. He’s always been quiet and kinda introverted. It’s one of the things I love most about him. His calmness.

“What do you need?” I ask as we walk into his apartment twenty minutes later.

“I’m gonna take another shower and get changed,” he says, fetching a bottle of water from the fridge. “Could we watch a movie after?”

I nod, knowing his habits like the back of my hand. It’s been like this since he was twelve, when he came back from a tournament complaining that the showers at the rink made him feel dirtier than when he went in, so it became part of his post-game routine to shower again when he gets home.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“Yeah, that would be awesome. I’m starving.”

“You got it.” I turn around and get a saucepan from the cupboard and fill it with water to boil.

“Carter?”

“Yeah?” I reply, glancing over my shoulder.

He smiles tiredly, and his blue eyes shimmer with gratitude. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” I wink. “Now go get in the shower and think about what movie we’re going to watch.”

With a nod, he heads into his bedroom, and I busy myself in the kitchen, making his favorite chicken and broccoli Alfredo and retrieving the glazed donut that I picked up from the bakery earlier from the fridge.

I’m plating up the pasta when he reappears, this time wearing his plaid sleep pants and a pullover hoodie. His dark hair is slicked back and still damp, and his pale skin is flushed pink from the hot water. I slide the bowl and a fork over the countertop with a smile.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

His eyebrows lift in a silent question.

I grab the small plate with the donut from the counter behind me and hold it out to him. “I know I can’t make you feel any better after that game, which, by the way, should have been yours. I call goaltender interference—” He snorts at that. “—but I can try to give you a little drop of dopamine in the shape of a donut.”

His eyes soften as he looks from the donut to me, then rounds the counter to bring me in for a hug.

“Thank you for being here,” he murmurs into the collar of my shirt.

I return his embrace and give him a squeeze.

“Always.” I step back and point to his bowl of pasta with one hand and slap his ass with the other. “Now eat up. I’m going to get into something more comfortable. I swear denim is the devil for thick thighs.”

He laughs and carries his food over to the couch.

After a quick change, I walk back into the living room and fall back onto the couch, letting out a satisfied groan as I sink into the cloud-like cushions, causing Zach to chuckle around a mouthful of food.

I watch as he demolishes the bowl of pasta in record time before getting up to put it in the dishwasher and returning with the donut.

Grabbing a cushion, I place it on my lap, then give it a pat. Zach eyes it for a beat before leaning back so he can lie with his head on the cushion. My hand goes to his hair on instinct, combing my fingers through the soft strands, occasionally using the pads of my fingers to massage his scalp. He lets out a relaxed hum, and a rush of pleasure runs through me.

“What movie are we watching?” I ask.

He takes a bite of his donut and looks up at me. “ Revenge of the Sith ?”

“Good choice.” I load it up on the streaming app and settle back into the couch, continuing to idly run my fingers through his hair.

We’ve been glued at the hip since we were six years old, when my parents and I moved into the house next door to the Reids. The second I jumped out of the car, I saw him playing hockey, and I ran over, begging him to play football with me. I knew he was hesitant. I could see it in his light blue eyes that he wasn’t quite sure what to do or say. I had pretty much bulldozed my way over to him and left him startled, like a deer caught in the headlights, but I plastered on my easygoing smile, and he soon gave in.

Right then, I told him we were going to be best friends.

We’ve done everything together. School. College. Spent every off-season together since we made it to the pros. This time I get with Zach is what I look forward to all year.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Getting to play in the NFL is the best job in the world. It was what I dreamed about since I was a kid and my dad took me to my first football game, but no wins ever come close to the happiness I feel when I’m with Zach. The five to six months we get to spend together keep me going. My girlfriends over the years never got it. They couldn’t understand why I was so excited to spend time here in Chicago, even when he was on the road.

It’s about moments like this. Chilling out, watching a movie, being close to my best friend. It’s all I want in life.

I wish I could take away his disappointment. Take away every ounce of sadness he’s feeling. I know it won’t last forever, but I just want him to be happy, always.

Because he may not know this, but I would be lost without Zach Reid.