Page 41 of Game On

It took only a few seconds for Dorian to get a glass, and they were a few seconds in which Jamie swore he didn’t breathe.

His dick, though? It didn’t need oxygen, as evidenced by the hardening in his pants.

Dorian pulled back, slowly, brushing up against Jamie until he was once again standing on his own two feet. He met Jamie’s gaze, and fuck. That smile. It was part invitation, part challenge, and part sex.

Jamie wanted to dive into him.

Dorian saluted him with the glass and sauntered toward the fridge, where he stuck the glass under the water dispenser.

Sweat beading at his hairline, Jamie looked at the dog, who sat with her head cocked, watching them. “I think the joke’s on me, Poppy.”

Dorian made a sound of assent and took his water glass and his smile out of the kitchen, sashaying out of the room as though modelling his outfit on the catwalk.

Poppy followed him out.

Jamie was tempted to as well. Instead, he stuck his head under the cold water in the kitchen sink.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bakersfield, California, in March was way nicer than Vancouver, British Columbia, in March.

Not that Jamie got to enjoy the sun and twenty-degree-Celsius temps.

The Orcas had landed in California Thursday evening, and while the younger guys had invited Jamie out to dinner, Jamie still had visions of being stuck with the bill, so he’d opted to remain at the hotel and order room service with Brawsiski, Lin, Archie, and Andreen. They’d eaten in Brawsiski and Lin’s room, hockey highlights playing on the TV.

Which was how he’d learned that John Henty—his former captain—had been traded to Tucson in a last-minute trade deal. He’d stared at the television, fork held aloft, too shocked to hear what the talking heads known as sportscasters were saying.

The Cobras had traded... Henty? But... he was the team captain.

Of course, that didn’t mean anything. Team captains got traded too. Just look at Gretzky.

Jamie’s mind spun.

Pacific Division and Atlantic Division teams rarely played each other in the AHL, so with Henty playing for the Cobras, Jamie had been fairly confident that he’d never have to see the guy again. But with them now playing in the same division? They’d end up as opponents sooner rather than later. In fact, when Jamie looked it up, he noted that the Orcas were playing Tucson at the end of March.

And while that mindfuck was working its way through his head, so was the useless thought that if Henty had been traded anytime in the previous six months, Jamie wouldn’t have pushed so hard for his own trade to the Orcas.

Or maybe he would have. Henty had been the instigator, a big part of the problem, but he’d had supporters on the team who’d followed his lead and treated Jamie like shit.

As the sportscasters speculated on the reasons behind Henty’s three-hours-before-the-trade-deadline trade, Brawsiski had grabbed the remote and navigated to a different channel. “Anyone up for a movie?”

Jamie had quietly finished his dinner, thankful for the distraction, and had set Henty and Tucson and upcoming games out of his mind. He had other games to focus on, and he didn’t need to be borrowing trouble. He could worry about Henty later.

Friday was game day. The game day. Game day with a capital G. The Orcas’ opportunity to be the first team in the AHL to clinch a playoff spot this season, which would make them the fastest team in AHL history to make it to the playoffs.

And that was all kinds of cool.

Not that Jamie had had a hand in getting the Orcas here, but he could have a hand in getting them to the playoffs.

The day itself was pretty chill: sleep in, practice, lunch, watching tape, strategy meeting, nap.

Game time.

The fact that this was an important game was obvious in the locker room. Laughter was a touch on the hysterical side, the music was too loud, and everyone’s energy seemed to have levelled up to a twelve out of ten.

Once he was in his gear and had taped his stick, Jamie took a selfie and sent it to Dorian.

Jamie

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