Page 55 of Scoring Position

Sadly that qualified as a hot streak for the Fuel, but Ryan would take it. Especially since he was starting to find the score sheet more often himself.

“Hey,” Yorkie said in the locker room after their game on the twenty-first, “guess what? We’re three for three for the first time this year.” The room surged with energy, players whooping and catcalling. Across the room, Nico grinned. “You’ve done good. Go home, get some rest, and in two days we’ll do it again.”

The boys shouted agreement, and Ryan headed for the shower. One more win and they could head into the break on a high note.

Before that game, though, there was the not-so-small hurdle of the Kirschbaums’ arrival—an arrival that, Ryan couldn’t help reflecting as he sat in Nico’s car in the pickup lane, would have been less stressful if Nico were the one doing the pickup. How did he get himself into these situations?

When the coaches cornered Nico after practice that morning, Ryan thought nothing of offering to take Nico’s keys and get his job done for him. It was the kind of thing you did for a boyfriend. Hell, he would’ve done it for any of his teammates.

Hehadn’tthought out the logistics of picking up his boyfriend’s parents from the airport and how awkward that would be, if only because at least one of said parents hated Ryan’s guts for being eligible, in Nico’s orbit, and not good enough for his precious son. And then there was the whole secrecy thing.

At least their physical jobs meant they could pass off any hickeys as bruising.

Ryan tried to forget the way Nico’s expression had gone blank and stiff when Ryan made the suggestion and he’d handed over the keys. That would not help him build confidence. Maybe Nico’s mom would be amazing and they’d get along so well, the ride back to the house wouldn’t totally suck.

Fuck it. Ryan wascharming. It was going to go great.

A middle-aged couple walked out of the building, and Ryan immediately pegged them as Nico’s parents—something about the way he walked or the angle of her jaw.

He got out of the car, caught the woman’s eye, and waved. Nico had said he would text his parents to let them know about the change in plans, so hopefully they would have an idea who to look for.

She grinned, waved back, and headed in his direction. Her movements were purposeful but relaxed. As she drew closer, Ryan took in her dark hair and eyes, the long nose that was all Nico, and something about the mouth—though hers seemed more inclined to smile in public.

“Hello, Ryan,” she said in accented English.

“Hello. You must be Irina?” Ryan tried to give the name the same lilt Nico had.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes, but Kolyasha’s friend must call me Ira.”

Kolyasha.What a mouthful. “Ira?” He tried to mimic her accent and passed well enough to earn a warm smile and hand pat.

“Yes. My man Rudolf.” She waved at her husband, who had arrived with the luggage.

Rudy Kirschbaum, former NHL defenseman, sized Ryan up from head to toe. Ryan refused to be intimidated. That would only make him look suspicious. He plastered on a grin and held out his hand. “Good to meet you, sir.”

After a beat, Rudy took it and shook. “Where is Nico?”

Ryan blinked. “Did he not tell you?”

“He said he couldn’t come, not why.”

“Oh. Well, he got waylaid after practice by the coaches. I think Phil—the assistant coach—probably wanted to go over something. But who knows?” As he spoke, Ryan headed for the trunk and opened the hatch. “Why don’t we get loaded up? He should be finishing up by now and wondering where we are.” He smiled at Ira.

“Yes. Take us to our Kolyasha,” she said in English, then turned to her husband to add something in German that Ryan didn’t catch.

They filled the trunk, and Ryan opened the passenger door for Ira while Rudy got rid of the luggage cart. Thankfully, she accepted the invitation. Ryan was faking confidence, but he did not want to get stuck sitting next to Nico’s dad.

If he took a little pleasure in a large, tall man who bullied his son having to sit in the back seat where there was less leg room, neither Nico nor his dad had to know about it.

Finally Rudy slid—or more like folded—into the seat behind his wife, and they were off.

They didn’t get far before Rudy made a comment. “So. Nico lets you drive his car?”

Ryan carefully merged into traffic and took evasive maneuvers from the underlying question, which he suspected was more along the lines ofNico lets you in his bed. “Not usually, but we carpooled to practice and he didn’t want you to have to get a cab.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie, and it made Nico look good.

“You are good friend to Nico,” Ira said warmly.

He tried not to blush. Ryan wanted to be good to Nico in a lot of ways, and not everyone would classify them asfriendly. “It’s no problem. Are you hungry at all, or thirsty? We have food at home, but if you want something now, we can stop along the way.” He glanced at Ira out of the corner of his eye. “Tea?”

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