Page 54 of Going All In

He deked around one of Vancouver’s defensemen, and Harty passed him the puck perfectly to the center of the tape on his stick blade. He skated around the back of the net, looking for a shot or an open teammate.

He heard Gally, the Strikers’ goalie, tapping his stick on the ice to warn them that the penalty was almost over, and Jake made his shot, slipping it under the opposing goalie’s left skate.

The goal horn sounded and his teammates barreled into him with hugs and helmet taps. He shouted his excitement as they made their way to their bench, tapping gloves with the rest of the team. Only down by one. They could do this.

But forty minutes later, and just into the third period, Jake was cooling his heels in the penalty box and not happy about it. One of their guys had been slow getting off the ice. It’d been a sloppy change and Jake had thought he was in the clear, but as soon as he hopped over the boards and the Strikers had puck possession, the ref had blown his whistle and called out the penalty Jake hated the most.

Too many men on the ice. He should’ve been paying closer attention to Soupy, but now he was stuck in the box. Another two minutes added to his penalty total. Ralph wouldn’t care what the reason was. He would be blowing up Jake’s phone as soon as he saw it.

***

They ended upgoing to a shootout and losing the game. At least they got a point, but he fucking hated shootouts. They didn’t have another game for two days, so they were flying home in the morning.

“Let’s go out tonight. Wallow in our misery with drinks,” Baz said, sitting down on the bench in the visitor’s locker room between Harty and Jake. Bugsy and the assistant coaches had already ripped into them about how they were missing their edge tonight and let the game slip away.

The man wasn’t wrong.

“You know what, I’m in. I need a drink or four after that game,” Jake said.

“Great. Now shower up, you stinky ass, and let’s go,” Baz said, then got up and walked into the showers.

“You coming?” Jake asked his best friend.

“I don’t know,” Harty said.

“You can Skype sex with Penny when you get back,” Jake said.

“Really funny. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You forget about Darcy?” Harty quirked a brow, almost daring Jake to say something that would give the man an excuse to punch Jake in the face.

“Of course not.”

How could he? Fucking hell, he thought about her way more than was healthy. Especially since it was clear to her that they were fake dating.

“You going to ask me if I have to Skype sex with her?”

“Let’s not go there, man. Like ever,” Harty said.

Watching Harty squirm gave Jake great joy.

“How’s everything going?” Harty asked.

“Do you really want to know?”

“It’s weird, but if you make each other happy, I support it,” Harty said.

“I’m not going to hurt her. Hell, she’ll probably end up hurting me first.” He paused, letting the words—the accurate words—sink in.

“Really?”

“Maybe. Who knows at this point? But we’re having fun. And I met the family and all is good,” he said cheerfully.

Harty wasn’t glaring, so it must’ve sounded genuine.

“Yeah, I heard. Sunday night dinner. How’d that go?”

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