Page 7 of The Grinder

“Good. That is settled. Now, what are you going to make for dinner? Lad can’t handle dairy and Tyler can’t handle anything green…”

As Jake ran at the mouth again, Riley nodded at the appropriate spots, but his brain had latched on to something Jake had said and wouldn’t let go.

It’d been a while since he’d gotten laid. Like, since before the beginning of the season.

Holy shit, how the hell had that happened?

For the past seven years of his professional career, he’d played hard, on and off the ice. He’d been through ten times as many women as he had teams. He didn’t brag about it and he tried not to be a dick about it but it’d been a fact of his life.

But for the past five months, he’d been a monk.

He’d always been dedicated to the game, always showed up to win. But this year…well, this year, he was twenty-eight.

He was one of the oldest guys on the team. Still six years younger than Cary Lenville, who was probably playing his last season as he was groomed to become the Redtails’ assistant coach, but a lot of the guys he’d come up with had either moved up to the NHL or had retired.

Retired. The word alone was enough to make Riley shudder. Hell, he wasn’t ready to retire.

Which was why he was working so damn hard this season. This was his year to make it. He couldn’t afford any distractions.

And yet…he hadn’t been able to resist the blonde behind the counter.

Jake punched him on the shoulder hard enough to make Riley flinch. Luckily, they were stopped for a red light.

He shot Jake a glare. “What the fuck?”

“You have not listened to one word I said this entire time, have you?”

“How could I not be listening? You haven’t shut up since we left the hospital.”

Rolling his eyes, Jake sighed. “I supposed you are to be forgiven considering the hot girl you scored.”

“That’s not who I was thinking about.”

Jake smirked. “So what are you thinking about? You don’t look happy whatever it is. What is wrong? Tell me. I am good listener.”

Then the guy fell totally silent. A minor miracle. No one on the team would believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong. Just thinking about the season.”

“Should be a good one. You are a good addition to the team since we lost our last grinder.”

Riley shook his head, smiling. “Happy to be of service.”

“And we are happy to have you. You and CJ make a good team.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not on the first line.” Which rankled, like a splinter in his heel. Damn it, he wanted to be on that first line but Coach had him on the second. Of course, it just made him work that much harder, which Coach knew would happen.

“Word is Knapper will not be here long. Duchene is having problems.”

Dickie Duchene was the Philadelphia Colonials’ third-line right-winger, notorious for playing as hard as he partied. Problem was, sometimes he didn’t know where the line was and he crossed it more than he should.

“Yeah, I heard the same.”

Sure, he’d briefly entertained the thought that maybe he’d be the one called up. Totally unrealistic considering he’d only been with the team since the beginning of this season and Sam Knapp had been a Colonials prospect since his draft four years ago.

“But this is an opportunity for you, yes? You will get Knapper’s spot on the first line.”

Riley just shook his head. “Life doesn’t always work the way you want it.”

Jake shrugged, the arrogance of youth written all over his face. “Then you just have to make it work for you. What is saying? When a door closes, you climb out the window. Sometimes you just have to make your own window by breaking down the wall.”

When Jake looked at him with a smile, Riley laughed all the way to grocery store.

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