Page 18 of Rule 1: Never Accidentally Marry Your Teammate

He’s standing in the middle of the ice. People are here to see him. He’s one of the Blizzards’ top players, right there with Evan and Vinnie and Isaiah and Dmitri.

Something swells through my body, something like joy. The sensation spreads through my body, continuing as some petite singer belts out the national anthem.

I’m here.

The first line plays better than last game, and Dmitri scores, getting an assist from Finn. The joy bubbles up within me again, frothy and unstoppable, and I grin.

Finally, it’s time for me to take the ice. My body takes over. The people I’m playing with are different from normal, but it doesn’t matter, not really. I’ve played with different teams in my life.

The game is a success. We win, and I don’t fall. I even get the puck from Vegas once, successfully wrestling it away with my hockey stick, and passing it.

Happiness flits through me.

It’s not my greatest performance, but I’ll take it. One OKish game in the NHL wasn’t my dream, but it was more than I could have hoped for.

I glide into the locker room, as the team hollers and celebrates. The room fills with men. We strip off our sweaty clothes, smiles pasted on our faces. Plans to celebrate in Vegas bubble around me.

Then Evan stands before me.

“Good job,” Evan says, fist bumping me.

It seems ridiculous for him to thank me, because I didn’t do that much, but I smile, and he smiles back.

In the next moment, Vinnie pulls Evan away and wraps his arms around Evan’s waist. “Let’s celebrate, baby.”

Evan beams at him. Vinnie beams back.

The tenderness between them is impossible to miss. And the closeness. This isn’t a big locker room, but all the same, there’s practically no space between them.

I stare. My mouth might fall open.

And then, Vinnie kisses Evan on the lips. Right in the locker room.

My jaw drops. I blink. But I definitely saw that. They were kissing.

I swallow hard, and something makes my head spin. Confusion ripples through me, and all the late-night browsing on certain topics comes back to me.

Am I...?

I don’t finish the thought in my mind. I lean back, burrowing myself in the wall. My heart races.

Am I...?

Butthe question is impossible to finish. Because hockey players aren’t...that way.

Except Vinnie and Evan are acting like they’re in a relationship. I stare at them, wondering if one of them is going to burst out laughing or push the other way, and there’s a joke I missed because I was focused on Finn and...

Oh. God. I might be—

Blood drains from my head, leaving me feeling lightheaded.

Vinnie and Evan break away, then Vinnie’s eyes narrow, and his face stiffens. Evan blinks, confused, then he turns in the direction that Vinnie is looking at.

Shit.

Vinnie is looking at me. And not in a pleasant way.

He jerks his head to me, and yeah, his eyes are glaring. “You have a problem, Fitzpatrick?”