Page 5 of Scoring Position

“Good, good. Keep me apprised, all right? See you later.”

Keep me apprised.Christ. Now he felt like a spy as well as a fraud. But what could he do apart from request a trade, which wasn’t likely to happen and would only make him look pathetic?

Standing in the hallway, Ryan rubbed a hand over his forehead and wondered just what the hell he’d gotten into.

It seemed like he was about to find out.

SWEAT DRIPPEDoff Nico Kirschbaum’s nose as he pedaled harder. He’d hopped onto the bike after his run-in with Rees an hour ago, filled with a restless resentment that he couldn’t think of any other way to burn through… short of punching his GM in the nose. But his mother always said there were some acts people couldn’t forgive.

Ironically, his father might actually have praised his initiative.

Either way, pissing off the GM wouldn’t get him more ice time. All he could do was stare at the bike’s readout until the numbers blurred. His fingers ached where he’d clenched them on the handlebars, and his legs burned.

He was an adult. He didn’t need a keeper. He gritted his teeth and dialed up the bike’s resistance. He had no idea what the fuck Rees thought he was doing bringing in Ryan Wright, then calling Nico into his office and asking him to makefriendswith the guy.

And Nico didn’t think it was a coincidence that they’d askedhim, the other openly gay guy on the team, to do the friending.

This was all sostupid. And possibly homophobic. Nico didnotneed management to trade friends for him. Anyway, if that was that they wanted, then why had they sent Lucas away? Lucas had actually understood Nico’s sense of humor. He knew when to leave him alone and when to drag him out to socialize. And unlike many other guys in the NHL, Lucas had never had Nico’s dad on a pedestal and had no problem badmouthing him when he and Nico were fighting.

The bike beeped to signal the end of his preset journey, but Nico dropped his head and kept going.

It was the day before training camp was due to start, and Nico had arrived at the ADESA Arena that morning to get in some last-minute summer conditioning. After last spring’s broken radius had knocked him out for the rest of the season, Nico didn’t want to miss a moment by not being 100 percent.

And he was so tired of losing, tired of not being able to break games open like he knew he could. There was no reason for the Fuel to be perpetually at the bottom of the standings, and Nico knew he could pull them out of it if he worked hard enough.

He had to, or he’d be stuck on a losing team forever.

“I’m pretty sure the beeping noise means your time is up.”

Nico whipped his head around to find Tom Yorkshire standing next to his bike. He was dressed in clean gym clothes and holding a blue Gatorade loosely in one hand as he watched Nico with a mild, steady gaze.

“It’s fine.”

Yorkie raised one eyebrow and continued to watch. He was kind of ridiculously good at the whole judgmental-disappointed-captain thing. Nico slowed, torn between reluctant respect and the embarrassing impulse to like the fact that Yorkie seemed to care.

It was his job to care, Nico reminded himself. He was the captain.

“So,” Yorkie said after thirty seconds of Nico’s cooldown, “what brings you into the Wreck Center the day before training camp?”

Nico shrugged and refocused on the bike’s readout, watching the numbers of hypothetical distance slowly climb. He didnotwant to have this conversation. If Yorkie already knew, then he was either there to add to the party line or offer pity. Nico didn’t know which would be worse. And if Yorkiedidn’tknow, then Nico sure as hell didn’t want to tell him. He was mortified enough. “Just wanted to make sure I was ready.”

Yorkie chuckled. “Dude. After those videos you posted on Insta”—Nico was immediately grateful that he was already overheating and thus his blush would be undetectable—“I’m pretty sure most of the internet is aware of how ready you are for the season.”

“My friend did that,” Nico mumbled, though he wasn’t sure that the truthwasless humiliating. Somehow “my best friend since childhood created an Instagram account for me and enjoys posting embarrassing videos to ‘promote me’” sounded more pathetic than “I am indeed the kind of guy who thinks it’s a great idea to post my workout videos and shots of food and beaches for fans.” But Ella thought it was fun, and he knew his dad would hate it, so he gave her free rein. Entertaining her was the least he could do when she’d given him such a convenient excuse to get away from Berlin for a few weeks last spring and “accompany her” to Malta.

Still, maybe he should revoke her access to that account now. She might be his sister in all but blood, but siblings needed boundaries too, even if she claimed the videos she posted made him seem “likable” and “relatable.”

Nico was pretty sure no one had ever used those words to describe him.

He was also pretty sure he didn’t know the account password.

“Well, either way, the videos tell a good story. You’re probably in the best shape of your life so far, and you have the abs to prove it.”

Months of punishing yourself with grueling workouts would do that, but Nico wasn’t going to let on that he was flattered Yorkie had noticed. “Don’t want to lose any of it,” he muttered as he finally stopped. The slow pedal was boring.

“Uh-huh.” Yorkie eyed him up and down and then handed him the Gatorade.

Nico twisted off the cap and chugged it, glad that Yorkie had grabbed a blue one. Nico hated the red ones. Guys always looked like they were drinking blood.

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