Page 20 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)

riley

The morning after the loss, we got up late, still bleary-eyed. Logan made coffee, I burned toast, and we somehow ended up back in bed, jerking each other off. After being so scared the night before, I needed to reassure myself that Logan was okay, and we both had a lot of tension to release.

Since breakfast had been bitter toast, we hit up an Italian bakery in Williamsville for lunch. We sat at a table out front, sharing focaccia sandwiches, slices of pizza, and delicious pastries. A couple of fans stopped to thank us for the season, but most people left us alone.

Neither of us mentioned the game, and we talked about anything we could think of besides hockey.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. After a grueling playoff season, Logan still looked like he belonged on a magazine cover.

But I’d seen the bruises while we were in bed.

Hockey players get beat up. It’s a routine part of the game, but the mottled blue-black splotches across his ribs and back had made my stomach turn.

After his shower, while I spread ointment on the worst ones, he winced and cursed under his breath.

Last night, my nightmare had been about Logan instead of my childhood shit.

He’d fallen wrong on the ice, and in the dream, it was much worse than what happened during the game.

He fractured his spine, got a brain bleed, and after he woke from the coma, he didn’t know who I was.

I’d had to reintroduce myself while he learned how to walk again.

When he shook me awake, I was soaked in sweat, mumbling words even I didn’t understand. My heart pounded so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. We’d had to change the sheets, but instead of asking questions, he held me.

Now, sitting in the sun outside the bakery, we ate lunch and pretended everything was fine. He didn’t bring up the team’s loss, and I acted like it hadn’t taken massive effort not to panic when I’d thought he was hurt.

Why am I feeling all this? What the hell don’t I understand?

He gave me a tired smile when he caught me watching him. “What’s up, Riles? Trying to decide between a new car or finally buying that pontoon boat?”

I snorted. “Actually, I was thinking about buying a house next to yours so I can bother you every damn day.”

He tilted his head, still smiling. “There is no house next to mine. I bought all that property.”

“Then I’ll make you sell it to me.”

He arched a brow. “Yeah? With what, charm and stubbornness?”

“Nope.” I lowered my voice. “With sex and whining.”

Logan huffed a laugh. “That’s disturbingly on-brand.”

“C’mon, you’d cave.” I leaned across the table. “Especially if I caught you at the right moment, like in the middle of what we did this morning.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong.”

After lunch, we went back home and did nothing but play basketball, order delivery for dinner, and suck each other off when we went to bed.

I had no bad dreams but woke once to find Logan kissing the back of my neck and whispering how much he needed me.

I almost turned over to see if he wanted sex, but something about the moment seemed too personal, as if he were talking to himself.

Respecting that, I pretended I was still asleep and filed what he said in my heart.

The next day was locker cleanout at the practice facility.

Last year, we’d rolled in riding high, still half-drunk after winning the Cup.

This year was the mirror image of that day.

Logan rode with me, and we walked in together, the same as always.

No one said anything because they were used to it. Maybe they assumed we were codependent.

The energy in the room was fake as hell, and we chirped each other because that’s what we knew how to do. When in doubt, crack jokes, talk shit, and pretend you aren’t gutted.

Gabe, who was busy taking things out of his dry stall, looked over and grinned. “Finally. I thought you two might have eloped.”

Logan tossed his duffel on the floor by his stall. “We considered it, but Riles won’t sign a prenup.”

“Damn right I won’t.” I unzipped the bag I’d brought for my stuff. “Half your retirement fund’s going toward my yacht, and until we agree on that, I’m not signing anything.”

“Your yacht?” Harpy asked, walking in with a grimy white laundry bag slung over one shoulder. “Didn’t you try to rent a Jet Ski last summer and fall off before they even untied it?”

“That was sabotage,” I said. “The steering was fucked.”

Packy laughed as he came in from his meeting with Criswell. “Come on, you leaned too far when you waved to those girls. You dumped yourself.”

“Appreciate the support,” I muttered, flipping him off.

Holky walked around with a half-empty box of protein bars. “Anyone want these? Dog says they make me fart.”

Packy snorted. “You fart anyway. Those things are just fuel, so Dog’s out of luck.”

Dog appeared out of nowhere. “I’m right here. You eat those bars, Holky, and you’re sleeping somewhere else.”

They grinned at each other like they were the only two people in the room, and my heart skipped a beat.

You could feel the powerful love between them.

I flashed back to the day Holky had made Dog leave, when Logan, Abby, and I had stormed his house, begging him not to be stupid.

Thank fuck he’d listened. The team wouldn’t be the same without those two flirting like it was a competitive sport.

Mason cut through the moment by tossing a roll of tape at Holky. “Save it for the wedding, lovebirds. Some of us are still trying to suppress our emotions.”

The laughter helped. It wasn’t genuine joy, but it dulled some of the ache.

We were tight, and since nobody else in the world could understand how this loss felt, it was up to us to carry each other through it.

One by one, we went to meet with Criswell.

Everyone else bagged gear, scribbled signatures on required forms, and talked about what to say to the press.

Harpy leaned into Logan’s stall at one point and asked, “Where are you disappearing to this summer?”

Logan shrugged. “Yet to be seen.”

“You should go to Italy,” Harpy said. “Luca took me there last summer, and I loved it. Culture, nice weather, delicious food, and the right outlook on life.”

Abby spoke up. “Take Riley with you. Wouldn’t want him lonely all summer.”

“Duly noted,” Logan said. “Harpy, I’ll text you for restaurant recs and sex dungeon etiquette.”

Everyone went silent. After a few seconds, Holky snorted, and someone dropped a water bottle. I caught Packy exchanging a look with Dog, and then Gabe gave Logan a slow, impressed nod.

Damn. The fuck is that about?

Harpy scoffed and glared at Logan. “Fuck off. I’m a married man, and I would never.”

Logan gave him the side-eye. “Didn’t you go with Luca? I thought you liked it on the wild side.”

Everyone always gave Harpy shit about things like that because he had such an angelic face. He was no angel, though, and when he turned beet red, I wondered if Logan had hit a nerve.

“You’re blushing,” I said.

He turned even redder and looked at Logan. “Luca’s the one who knows the restaurants. You can text him.” Without missing a beat, he shifted his gaze to me. “Or make Riley do it for you, since I know you’ll be together.”

While I tried to think of a stinging retort, Dog walked around with a Ziploc bag full of the shitty candies he liked, handing them out like medals. “We may have lost, boys, but we still have taffy.”

“No way,” Richie said. “That’s the salted licorice kind.”

Dog looked confused. “But it’s the best one.”

“You’re why we lost.” Holky tapped Dog’s cheek. “Nobody wants that. Throw it away.”

It was all loud and ridiculous, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. I started feeling better.

But when Logan stood and stretched, I couldn’t miss how he pressed his hand to his back. He caught me watching and gave a subtle shake of his head: nothing to worry about . Like that would stop me.

The team had divided us into groups to face the press. I was with Packy, Abby, and Brody, and the reporters went easy on us. We gave our standard canned answers, throwing in some of the new ones we’d thought of earlier.

Keeping with tradition, we waited around until everyone was done before heading to Revolution Hops for a couple of beers.

It would be our last time together as a group until training camp, and you never knew who might be traded before all was said and done.

Cleanout day didn’t erase the sting, but it gave us a ritual.

Pack your shit, talk some trash, spout a bunch of bullshit to the press, and go out for drinks.

We hadn’t won the Cup, but we were still the Warriors. There was always next year.

After we said our goodbyes, Logan and I went back to his house, where we piled up on the sectional and watched Family Guy . I knew he didn’t like it and only watched it for me. After a brutal few days, I was glad to hear him laugh.

During a commercial, I got up to get beers.

When I handed him his, he smiled. “So, about this summer… The boys didn’t know what they were talking about, but can we go on vacation together?

I’ve been thinking about Europe, and what Harpy said about Italy sounded good. We could rent a house for a while.”

Something about the expression on Logan’s face told me he had a lot riding on my answer, but I couldn’t help myself. “What, the sex dungeon part?”

“Nah, that’s not for me. But seriously, would you go?”

My heart felt like it was trying to break through my ribs.

I grinned because that was my default when I didn’t know what the hell I was feeling.

Under the surface, I was reeling in a way I didn’t have words for.

No one had ever been like this with me, wanting me because of who I was, warts and all.

Even when I was a kid, everything had been conditional.

I tried to sound casual. “I’d love to go. It would be awesome, and we’d have a kickass time. I’ve never been over there.”

“You’d like it. Want to make our plans tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

Another episode of Family Guy came on, but before they got into it, I asked, “The fuck was up with Harpy blushing like that today? You think he and Luca get into wild shit?”

Logan didn’t even crack a smile. “Wouldn’t surprise me. It’s always the innocent-looking ones you need to watch out for.”

I hesitated, but fuck that. “Would you ever want to do something kind of wild? Get a little unconventional?”

He locked eyes with me and worked his mouth into a crooked smile. “Only with you.”

The jolt of excitement shooting up my spine was real. Some of my confusion had faded over the last couple of weeks, but there was still plenty to think about. Hopefully, things would clear up while we were on vacation.