Page 34 of Shift Change

As we climbed onto the bus, Criswell stood near the front, talking on his phone. The rest of us shook snow from our jackets and tried not to freeze. Once everyone was seated, he put his phone away and grabbed the mic.

“Listen up, men. In case it’s escaped your notice, we’ve landed in the middle of a blizzard.” A few groans and low whistles followed. “They were expecting light snow, but this storm blew in much heavier than expected. The roads are a mess, so we’re skipping the SaberDome for now. We’ll head straight to the hotel and wait for updates.”

“Are we still playing tonight?” Harpy asked.

Criswell shrugged. “As far as I know, yes, but the Sabercats’ front office is monitoring the storm. If they cancel, we’ll hear by three.”

I stared out the window, watching the snow swirl in thick, endless waves. It was a hell of a way to start a road trip.

* * *

It took almost ninety minutes to crawl from the airport to the hotel in Saint Paul. Holky said the drive usually took about half an hour, so there was no doubt the blizzard was putting on a show. Since the area near the entrance to the hotel was inaccessible, we had to walk two blocks to get there. In the lobby, waiting for our room keys, we complained about the wind and wondered if our shoes would ever dry out.

The team’s rooms were all on the ninth floor; I was in 907 and Holky was a few doors down in 914. Harpy told us to settle in and assume the game was on. Lunch was scheduled for one o’clock, and after that we’d take pregame naps before heading for the SaberDome.

After hanging my suit in the closet, I debated unpacking and decided against it. Instead, I took off my travel clothes and dropped onto the bed. I thought about texting Holky to see when he was going down for lunch but quickly nixed the idea. Just because we were roommates back home didn’t mean we had to spend every minute together on the road.

I reached for the TV remote, but before I could press the power button, my phone buzzed. Seeing it was Holky, I answered with a simple, “What’s up?”

“Wanted to see when you’re going to lunch.”

“I don’t know. Planned to text you in a while and ask what you were doing.”

“Blind leading the blind, huh? The meal’s at one, so let’s head down about 12:50.”

“Deal.” Since we’d made up on the plane, I considered asking if he wanted to get together before then.

What the hell? Did I really think the words “made up”? We weren’t kids who’d had a spat on the playground.

“How’s your room?” he asked.

“Nice.” I looked around at the fancy wallpaper and plush chairs. “The mattress feels like it cost more than my car. In the minors, I was used to roadside motels with at least one roommate.”

“Welcome to the big leagues, rookie. This is a great place, but my view is for shit this time. Since you’re on the other side of the hall, you’ve probably got a good one.”

I sat up and checked. The snow had eased enough for me to see a few things. “It is, actually. Downtown buildings and some big-ass river.”

Holky laughed so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Big-ass river?” he asked. “Buddy, that’s the Mississippi.”

“Damn. Does Saint Paul have a riverfront? I’ve been to the one in San Antonio, and it was a lot of fun.”

“So is this one, but we can’t go. The blizzard has probably closed everything, and Criswell would have a fit if we didn’t keep to the pregame schedule.”

“Maybe next time.” I didn’t want to make him feel I was trapping him on the phone. “I guess you want to?—”

“Chat. It’s almost time for lunch.”

I leaned back against the headboard, and we eased into conversation. It was nothing serious, mostly snowstorm war stories—Buffalo versus Syracuse. Spoiler alert: Buffalo won.

After a while, someone knocked. “Hold on,” I said into the phone, getting up and crossing the room. When I opened the door, Holky was standing there, phone in hand. He glanced up and froze. His eyes darkened in an instant, and I realized I was only wearing boxer briefs.

Great. He caught me in my underwear before we’ve even had a proper conversation about what we want to do and when. I’m crushing it today.

His gaze dragged down my chest, pausing here and there, and came to rest on my boxers. My dick lurched hard enough that he couldn’t have missed the movement. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Shit, sorry. Let me put something on.” I rushed to my suitcase, and my hands were clumsy as I scrambled into jeans and a sweater.

When I turned back around, he had on a full-blown smirk. “Damn, bud. You’ve got one big hockey butt.”

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