Page 68 of Pucking the Team

Lukas saunters out, golden hair artfully mussed, emerald eyes glinting mischievously. “Like what you see?” he says, catching me staring. I roll my eyes but can’t suppress a grin. Lukas is an irrepressible flirt.

We settle around the table, passing dishes brimming with Alex’s mouthwatering cooking. But despite the incredible food, the conversation feels stilted, uncomfortable. Lukas and Ryan are clearly trying, but there’s still something simmering there.

It has a weirdly different weight to it, tonight.

I feel a pang of guilt, knowing I’m the one who stirred this all up by getting involved with them both. Well, all of them. Slade uncorks the wine, and I take a big gulp of Cabernet.

“So, um, how about that power play in the second period last game?” I offer weakly.

Ryan just grunts. Lukas examines his cuticles. Alex and Slade exchange a meaningful glance. Ugh, I’m usually bubblier than this. Funnier.

But the strain between Lukas and Ryan is so palpable, it’s throwing me off, making me question everything.

Under the table, I feel a warm hand cover my knee. I glance over to see Slade giving me a reassuring smile. He leans in, his spicy cologne swirling around me.

“Relax, Emma,” he murmurs. “It’ll all work out.”

I exhale, trying to absorb some of his steadfast calm. Slade’s right. We have to push through this awkwardness. The future of the team, not to mention this wild, wonderful, complicated thing blossoming between the five of us—it all hangs in the balance.

Slade clears his throat and sets down his wine glass. “Alright, let’s get down to brass tacks,” he says, fixing each of us with his serious gaze. “We all know why we’re here. Emma.”

I feel my cheeks flush as four pairs of eyes turn to me.

Slade continues, “Our connection with her—it’s special. Rare. But it’s also causing some friction on the ice.”

Lukas shifts in his seat, a flicker of defensiveness in his green eyes. “Slade, man, Ryan and I are cool now. Water under the bridge, right?” He looks to Ryan for confirmation.

Ryan nods, but there’s a tightness in his jaw. “Yeah, we’re good. No hard feelings.”

I’m not buying it. There’s something still sparking between them like a live wire. I lean forward, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“Guys, I appreciate you trying to smooth things over, but let’s be real. This situation, it’s complicated as hell. And if we don’t address it head-on, it’s going to keep messing with your chemistry on the ice.”

Alex hums in agreement, his dark eyes thoughtful. “Emma’s right. We need to lay it all out there, no holding back. Whatever issues you two have, they need to stay off the rink.”

Lukas nods, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “I hear you, coach. I swear to you, Ryan and I, we’re good. We’ve got each other’s backs out there, no matter what.”

Ryan’s jaw clenches, but he gives a curt nod of agreement. “Lukas is right. The team comes first.”

I glance between them, sensing the lingering tension beneath their words. It’s clear that their history runs deep, and mending those fences will take more than a few apologies and promises.

It’s a start. And I think open communication is going to be the ultimate solution here. It’s time to bring up the proposal that Slade and I have discussed.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves as I look around at the four devastatingly handsome men seated before me in Slade’s penthouse living room.

“Well, in the name of being good team players, then…I propose we officially form a polycule,” I say, sounding less nervous than I feel.

I glance around the table, trying to gauge their reactions. Slade gives me an encouraging nod, his gray-blue eyes warm and supportive. He and I have discussed this at length, and I know he’s fully on board.

But Alex, Lukas, and Ryan all look varying degrees of surprised and uncertain. I feel a pang of anxiety. Maybe this is too much, too fast.

“A polycule,” Ryan repeats slowly, as if testing out the word, his brow furrowed adorably. “So, like, all of us…together?”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Officially. Openly. No more sneaking around or feeling guilty or jealous. We’d all be equal partners.”

“Let me get this straight,” Lukas speaks up from where he’s sprawled on the opposite couch, his piercing green eyes glinting mischievously. “You want us all to be one big happy poly family? With you at the center of our hunky hockey man-harem?”

I roll my eyes, even as a blush heats my cheeks. “If you want to put it in the most ridiculous terms possible, then yes, Lukas. I’m suggesting we solidify our arrangement as a polycule.”

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