Page 33 of Scoring Position

That wasn’t true, was it? Well, okay, he’d avoided Misha a little bit for reasons that had seemed perfectly logical until tonight….

“That is not the point,” Greenie said. “What else are they saying?”

Nico narrowed his eyes. “You want me to eavesdrop on my teammate trying to pick up.”

“Uh, yes!” Greenie had no shame.

“No.”

“Why not?”

Nico cast a look Ryan’s way and saw him snickering into his drink. “So many reasons. For one, privacy. Two, some things I don’t need to know about you guys.Drei, straight flirting is weird.”

Next to him, Ryan shook with laughter and mussed Nico’s hair. Nico broke out in goose bumps and fought not to lean into the touch. He would come out with the team more often if it meant Ryan kept touching him like that.

“Weird,” Grange repeated. “Why?” He looked like he wasn’t sure if he should ask.

Nico contemplated how to explain it and then gave up and shrugged. “Because straight relationships are weird.”

Ryan cackled louder. “Can we get Nico drunk more often?”

Nico glared. “I’m not drunk!”

“You totally are.”

“I’m German. My mother is Russian! I do not get drunk off two beers and a…this.”

“That has like three shots it in it,” Ryan said cheerfully, “and you downed it in five minutes.”

Nico looked at his empty glass. The fruity drink had tasted like juice. “Böse.”

“Aw, don’t worry.” Ryan patted his shoulder consolingly. “Next time we’ll get you drunk on vodka instead.”

BY EARLYNovember, Nico found life falling into a familiar routine, with the addition of frequent conversations with Barb and applying her strategies in his downtime. Some of the sessions and homework left him exhausted, but they wereworking.

But while Nico’s game improved and got more consistent, the same could not be said for the Fuel. They were still losing more than they won, and their wins were seldom spectacular, usually eked out with a one-goal lead—a fact his father brought up during every phone call. Nico hated that he wanted to avoid his own father, but the man only ever wanted to talk about hockey.

Nico might eat, sleep, and live the game, but even he knew you had to step away sometimes… like playing chess with your teammate using a silly phone app and wiping the floor with him every time. Sure, Ryan was improving—slowly—but Nico had a 1.00 win percentage.

Maybe he should quit hockey and become a chess streamer.

Yeah right.

In any case, he’d gotten his game to the point where Coach hadn’t scratched him for no reason in a while, and Nico was pleased with the progress.

Unfortunately Ryan seemed to be following the general Fuel trend instead of Nico’s personal successes. He still hadn’t scored his first regular-season goal in a Fuel jersey, and one game-day skate went so badly he got benched for the night ten minutes in.

Nico gave him space during practice, but in the locker room afterward, he took a chance and sat down next to Ryan, even though his stall was on the other side. “Hey. You look terrible.”

Ryan peeled out of his sweaty Under Armour T-shirt and gave him a poisonous look. It was undermined by the dark circles beneath his eyes. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, Kersh.”

Nico probably could have approached this more diplomatically—he was trying to repay a favor after all—but before he could decide whether to back off or try again, Ryan elaborated. “The neighbors in my apartment building have a new baby.”

“Oh.” Should he say congratulations? Then he made the link to the dark circles. “Oh. You’re not getting enough sleep because the baby cries.”

“I’ve tried noise-canceling headphones. I’ve tried a white noise machine. I’ve tried meditation.” He blew out a breath. “I need to find somewhere else to live, but I don’t have time.”

Nico shrugged. “You could move in with me.”

---