Page 9 of Overtime Goal (Buffalo Warriors Hockey #4)

logan

Riley had his hand on my side. It was big and a little rough, a hand that left no doubt it belonged to a man.

I stayed still, afraid if I shifted even a little, he’d pull away.

I wasn’t ready for that. Most of the men I’d dated had smaller hands with smooth palms and slender fingers softened by moisturizer and desk jobs.

Riley’s were different. They showed the wear of constant training, hard work, and long days in the cold air of a practice rink.

I adjusted slightly, easing the pressure on my shoulder, and he didn’t move. Closing my eyes again, I let myself pretend we’d ended the night naked and tangled, satisfied from making each other come. I imagined my future would be Riley and me sharing a bed, with his hands on me all the time.

After we talked last night, the knot in my chest had loosened for the first time in weeks.

Now, doubt was already creeping back in.

The deal we’d made was simple. I’d agreed so we could salvage our friendship, hoping I might have him sometimes instead of not at all.

The problem was that I wasn’t built for casual.

For me, dates weren’t euphemisms for hookups.

I wanted to know the men I slept with because sex was so much better that way.

But I didn’t need to date Riley to care about him, so maybe things would work out.

God help me. I’m already in love with him.

I didn’t want to think about what might happen to me when the novelty wore off for him. He’d wake beside me one morning and wonder why the hell he wasn’t in bed with a woman. His fever for them had never cooled for long. Another girl, another story.

Fuck me.

I’d never been anyone’s experiment because I’d never let it happen. So why was I lying there with Riles when I knew what to expect? I was in bed with a teammate, hoping he’d never let go, but sure he would.

Something banged out in the hall. Riley jerked and tightened his grip on my side, then drew his hand away.

“Hey.” His voice was thick and croaky. “Wake up, Logan.”

My fantasy was over, so I blew out a breath, groaned, and turned over to face him. “I guess we fell asleep.”

He pulled the comforter around him. “At least we took our shirts off, but now I’m cold.”

I glanced at the clock. “We should get moving. The bus leaves for the arena in an hour.”

“Shit.” He burrowed under the covers completely. “I don’t fucking feel like morning skate.”

“I’ll order some breakfast, and then you can go to your room to change before we get on the bus.”

He looked at the door, then at me. “Think that’ll be okay? What if someone sees?”

“We’ve fallen asleep together before. Remember when Gabe saw me leaving your room and gave us shit for being lightweights who couldn’t stay awake long enough to watch a movie? Don’t get paranoid because of what we said last night.”

“You’re right.” He put on a crooked grin. “Besides, everyone’s so busy watching Holky and Dog’s every move, they wouldn’t think twice about what we’re doing.”

“Or not doing. Don’t sweat it, Riles.” I reached for the phone to call room service.

We beat the Chicago Ice and flew to Detroit for the last stop on our brutal roadie.

Five games in six nights was no way to keep a team healthy.

We’d been lucky to hold injuries to bruises, visor cuts, and a high stick in Edmonton requiring three stitches in Mason’s chin.

Everyone was grumbling as we tromped down the tunnel to play the Huskies.

They hadn’t had the best season, but they were always on fire to play against us.

The first period went as expected, heavy on chirping, cheap shots, and enough cross-checking to keep the refs busy. Early in the second, shit blew up. One of Detroit’s forwards leveled Dog as he was winding up for a shot, dropping him flat. Abby swooped in and drilled the Husky in the chest.

That should have been it, but one of Detroit’s D-men jumped Abby from the side and clocked him with a sucker punch.

The crowd roared as Brody ditched his stick, grabbed the Husky blueliner’s jersey, and started swinging.

Within seconds, every player on the ice was throwing punches except the goalies.

It didn’t take long for the Huskies’ tender to skate out to center ice and start yelling at Gabe, who flipped him off.

The guy pushed off, making a beeline for Gabe, but a linesman got to him in time to stop a goalie fight.

The refs handed out matching penalties, and everyone who’d fought landed in the sin bin.

Criswell had no choice but to send our line out for the resulting four-on-four.

Holky won the faceoff, snapping the puck to me, and I charged toward the Huskies’ net.

Their defense came in fast, so I fed a pass to Riley, who tapped it in for a 3–0 lead.

Near the end of the period, the first line was back on the ice.

Dog got his revenge with a blistering slapper that lit the lamp.

The payback was sweet, and our bench erupted in celebration.

Even Criswell cracked a grin. We hit the second intermission up four-zip and rode our high into the third period.

With both teams focused on play, we held onto our lead and closed the game with a 5–2 win.

Since we weren’t flying home until morning, Harpy decided we should go out. I would rather have gone back to the hotel and chilled with Riley, but before I could catch his eye, he’d already agreed to go.

He looked at me. “You’re in, right?”

So, I went. We bussed back to the hotel and walked to a bar we’d been to before.

Since Riley and I were the last ones in, there were no chairs left beside each other.

He ended up across the table, wedged between Blunt and Edwards, while I was sandwiched between Gabe and Mason.

The place was so loud, there was no chance of talking to Riles.

It didn’t take long for a group of pro athletes in suits to draw attention.

Women began orbiting, smiling and leaning in close, stopping long enough to be noticed.

Blunt and Edwards lit up, and Riley followed their lead.

He was all grin and sparkle as he bantered with the women, egged on by the other two as if they were back in junior hockey with something to prove.

I turned away. There was no way I could sit there like some aging wallflower while Riley held court as the straight boy king of the flirt parade.

Gabe talked about a trip he and Brody were planning for the summer, and though I tried to listen, the words barely registered.

I nodded along and nursed my second beer, which fizzled uneasily in my stomach.

Eventually, Gabe turned to Harpy, and I made the mistake of looking back across the table.

Fuck me. Blunt, Edwards, and Riley each had a girl on their lap.

They were all laughing, and I couldn’t help seeing Riley’s girl twisting, apparently intent on delivering friction he wouldn’t be able to resist.

I was so bitter I could taste it. Since I had no fucking claim, it was pathetic.

Only last night, we’d agreed to have no expectations.

If anything happened between us, it wouldn’t mean more than what it was.

So why did it feel like I was being gutted with a butter knife?

I needed to take a leak, and when I got up, Riley didn’t even glance over.

While I was in the bathroom, I tried to get a grip. I hadn’t wanted to go out to begin with, and I wished I hadn’t. It was none of my business if Riley went back to the hotel with Blunt, Edwards, and all three girls. But if that was so, why was my jaw clenched so tight it made my head hurt?

When I made it back to the table, there was no girl on Riley’s lap. But another one was standing close, her fingers in his hair, leaning over and whispering in his ear.

I put a hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “I’m beat, so I’m heading out. See you tomorrow.”

Harpy leaned up so he could see around Gabe. “You sure? We won’t be here much longer.”

I couldn’t help glancing across the table again, and this time Riley looked up.

“I’m leaving,” I called over the music. “See you tomorrow.”

His eyes widened. “You’re going now?”

“Yeah. Have fun.” I turned to leave.

“Wait up, Logan!”

I stopped and looked back, surprised to see Riley hurrying around the table. As soon as he was beside me, he said, “I’m tired too. I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to. Looked like you were having a good time.”

He shook his head. “I was playing along, not enjoying myself.”

I nodded. “Suit yourself.”

We were quiet on the way back to the hotel. In the elevator, I asked, “Looking forward to going home tomorrow?”

“Fuck yes. We’ll be busy, but at least we can sleep in our own beds.”

That made my stomach twist again, so I didn’t reply. When we reached my room, I opened the door and turned back to say goodnight. Riley walked inside before I could speak.

He walked toward the bathroom like he owned the place. At the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Up for another movie? Pick something, and I’ll be back in a minute.”