Page 16 of Drop the Gloves

Without letting himself think it through too much, he skated over to Abernathy and swung his stick like a baseball bat so it smacked him on the ass.

“How exactly is hitting my ass good luck?”

Abernathy rolled his eyes and turned away. Still, he was smiling slightly and not glowering at the ice anymore. Mission accomplished.

Sometimes he wished he did have some sort of good luck charm for himself. Not often, but there were days he could use a little nudge away from his thoughts. Especially when he played his growing list of former teams.

Riley didn’t like looking back. The teams he’d played for, the guys he’d played with, it’d been good times, but it was over.

Plus, going down memory lane would mean thinking about why he’d left and who exactly he was smashing into the boards.

It was the number on their backs and their value to their team that he targeted, not the guy he’d won a Cup with or the guy whose kid’s birthday party he’d gone to.

It was more fun that way. Less mental load or whatever.

Because at the end of the day, Riley loved playing his style of hockey.

All out, all the time, ready for anything.

It was a style that had earned him minutes throughout his career, because he wasn’t afraid of the hard matchups.

Most of the guys were bigger than him, but as his youth coaches always told him, he had more grit.

There was nothing more satisfying than upending a guy twice his size or making them lose their shit when he got under their skin.

Which he’d done in Vermont, again and again.

Most of his former teammates had also moved on, retired, or jumped ship to warmer climates when their contracts allowed, but there were some franchise players who remembered him.

Sometimes guys like that thought friendships off the ice mattered.

Like Riley shouldn’t be throwing his weight around against them.

Like they hadn’t loved Riley for doing it when he was on their side.

“What the fuck, Riley!?” David Bates screamed at him after a questionable late hit. (Okay, really questionable, but it was a juicy opportunity.) “Why you always gotta be such a dick?”

“What’s that about my dick?” Riley asked. “You miss it?”

Now, he’d never once done anything sexual with anyone on the Nor’easters.

Not even hinted at it, because he knew it wouldn’t go well.

Which was too bad, since Vermont seemed like a decent place to be queer, but that didn’t always carry over to sports-dominated spaces.

Riley had read the locker room on day one and decided, nah, he wasn’t going to push his luck.

Despite popular opinion, Riley knew how to keep his head down and mouth shut.

But that was when he had to share space with the homophobes. Now that he only saw them maybe three times a season and promptly got on a plane after, he used it against them.

The sucker punch was a calculated risk. Given he wasn’t even facing Bates when he punched Riley in the jaw, he knew he’d get the call from the refs.

He was laughing as he tumbled to the ice, because it was just too fucking easy.

Leaning back on his elbows, he made sure to spread his legs and waggle his eyebrows.

Which was probably stupid. The whistle had blown, and the refs were coming, but that was no reason to tempt Bates to finish what he’d started.

Bates took a stride towards Riley, looking like he was about to tackle him.

Riley tensed, because having a 215-pound defenseman land on him wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it never happened.

Abernathy had skated between Bates and Riley, a human shield that was way too gentle when he said, “How about we calm down here.”

It was kind of sexy, actually.

“How about you get the fuck out of my way?” Bates said.

Abernathy had a hand on Bates’ chest. A light touch, but a warning nonetheless.

Definitely sexy.

“Nope,” Abernathy said. “Not happening. You’re going to the box.”

Bates looked about to escalate things (fuck, Abernathy was not ready for another fight, period. Could Riley get up in time?) but a ref came to the rescue. Abernathy kept his protective guard until Bates was far enough away, then he turned to Riley.

“I feel like you probably deserved some of that.”

“Maaaybe.” Riley batted his eyelashes. “You defending my honor, Abs?”

Abernathy blushed. He did that a lot around Riley, though Riley couldn’t figure out why.

At first, he’d assumed it was because Abernathy was starstruck or annoyed by Riley, then he learned the guy was a little shy and figured it was because he was a bit awkward when put on the spot.

There were other options, of course, but Riley didn’t think they were very likely.

Good Canadian boys tended not to be interested in the loud-mouthed American. Not in Riley’s experience, anyway.

“Not a chance,” Abernathy said. “I can’t take on the whole league for one guy.” He took off a glove and leaned over to offer Riley his hand.

Riley let himself be pulled up. “What’s the damage?” He worked his jaw and felt his lip for blood.

“You’re as ugly as when you started,” Abernathy said and patted Riley’s helmet like he was a little kid.

Granted, the height difference was comical sometimes.

Riley let it go, because it didn’t feel condescending like when Abernathy did it.

It’d bugged the hell out of him when it’d been guys like Bates. “No harm done.”

“Good.” Riley rubbed at his jaw one last time—it would be sore for a few days, ugh—then grinned and poked his tongue through the hole where he’d lost a tooth years ago. “My ma would kill me if I lost another tooth.”

Abernathy raised an eyebrow. “I’m shocked you’ve only lost the one.”

“Samesies. Oh!” He looked around the ice, spotted his missing mouthguard, and swiped it before heading back to the bench.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” Abernathy said. He wrinkled his nose as Riley stuffed it back into his mouth.

“Builds the immune system,” he said, words muffled by the mouthguard. Part of why he rarely wore it: it made it too hard for other people to understand when he chirped them. “It’s why I never get sick.”

“Still gross,” Abernathy said, so quiet he probably didn’t think Riley could hear him. It was cute.

…shit. As they sat down together on the bench to watch the Riveters’ power play line get to work, Riley side-eyed Abernathy.

Yep, Riley definitely still thought Abernathy was cute.

He turned back to the ice and tried to get his head back in the game, all while wondering how long it would take to get over this stupid crush.