Page 42 of Goaltender Interference

Not to mention a mouth like a hoover.

“Well, if you can peel yourself away from Clayton, maybe you wanna meet the rest of the team?” Connor asked, his tone short.

Internally, Jesse cackled when it hit him why Connor was being so pissy.Shiiiit. Connor was jealous. He looked all bristly, like an angry cat with its tail fluffed out.

So Jesse took it slow, laying a smacking kiss on Tanner’s cheek and lingering before he let go with a squeeze of Tanner’s waist. “Sure, introduce me to the rest of your team,” he said, batting his lashes at Connor.

A big guy with chin-length brown hair and a shitload of tattoos held out a hand. “Luke Crawford.”

“Fuck am I glad you’re on my team now,” Jesse said with a laugh as his hand disappeared into Luke’s much larger one. “Great to meet you. Your reputation precedes you.”

Crawford grinned. At the moment, he had all his teeth in, although Jesse knew several of them were fake because he didn’t wear them on the ice.

Jesse wasn’t exaggerating about his reputation either. Crawford might be the most disliked guy in the NHL. He was tough, he wasn’t afraid to drop the gloves, and the chirps he threw were as vicious as his right hooks.

“Glad to have you here, Webber,” Crawford said, slapping him on the back. “It was a bitch going up against you last season but it’ll be great to have you in net for us.”

“Think you can block a few more shots so I don’t have to work as hard as the guy you had before?” Jesse teased.

“Depends, how do you feel about buying me a few beers?”

“That can be arranged.”

“Then we’re good.” They pounded fists and Crawford stepped back.

A blond guy stepped forward, taking Luke’s place. He had big shoulders, dark eyes, and the prettiest lips Jesse had ever seen. He held out a hand. “Graham Pennington.”

“Nice to meet you, Graham.”

They went through a handful of guys, names and faces blurring together until Jesse was a little overwhelmed. He knew some ofthem from playing against them over the years, but between the O’Sheas and the team, there were so damn many people to keep track of.

Everyone was talking about the team’s chances and how excited they were to have Jesse in net and he could suddenly feel the weight of all of their expectations.

All of their hopes.

Fuck, Gavin hadn’t been kidding about the level of responsibility Jesse was going to have this season as the starting goaltender.

“Give the poor boy a break,” Catherine said with a laugh as she broke into the conversation, gently steering Jesse toward a comfortable sectional. “Let him have a few minutes to eat before you have him suited up and in the net.”

Jesse cracked a smile, grateful that she’d noticed he was feeling overwhelmed. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Her expression was soft. “You’re all my boys and if you ever need anything, I’m here for you, okay?”

“Thanks,” he said, feeling an unexpected little lump in his throat, suddenly missing his mom.

His parents would come see some of his games, he knew that, and he’d see them when he was on road trips, but now that they were living in California and he was in Massachusetts, he wouldn’t see them as much.

Catherine patted his shoulder, then turned to go.

“Oh, and thanks for the great bedroom. I heard you did the work to get it ready for me,” Jesse added.

She scoffed, pivoting to face him again. “The decorator did the work. I just made some suggestions because Connor wouldn’t know a throw pillow from a sconce.”

“Sconces are those things you eat with butter and jam, right?” Jesse teased, winking, so she’d know he knew she’d been talking about light fixtures.

“If you asked Connor, yes. Now, can I get you a drink?”

“A beer would be nice,” he said. “But I can?—”

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