Page 14 of Unrivaled

Their next game, the last of the round robin, was against Canada.

Grady had a love-hate relationship with US-Canada games. Love, because they tended to be great hockey since both teams had deep talent pools to draw from. Hate, because Canadians thought they owned the game and took every win as proof. The only thing worse than losing to Canada in an international tournament was losing to Canada in an international tournament that took place in Toronto.

Which was why Grady didn’t intend to lose.

Do not take a penalty, he reminded himself in warm-ups.Whatever he says to you, you cannot take a penalty.

Grady was on his fifth warmup lap and his hundredth repetition when a stick brushed his legs at center ice.

Fuck.

He sprayed to a stop. He’d only look more petty if he didn’t. “What do you want, shithead?”

Max leaned on his stick and batted his eyelashes. “Aw, baby, why you treat me so mean?”

Grady gave him a flat look. “How long do you have?”

Max barked with laughter. “Hey, if I tell you to suck my dick during the game, will they suspend me? Like, how does that work if it’s a sincere invitation?”

Fuck’s sake, Grady thought. “Try it and find out.”

Then he skated away to get his head in the game.

The minute the puck dropped, Grady knew it was going to be one of those games he loved.

The teams were well matched, with more scoring power on the American side balanced out by an absolutely psychotic Canadian goaltender. Grady would’ve had to dislocate every joint in his body to make half those saves. The guy was part jellyfish.

Coach kept matching Grady’s line with Max’s, which Grady expected—the NHL higher-ups probably told him to. Grudge matches were good for viewership. Grady braced himself for Max to say something horrible, but by the end of the first period, he hadn’t come up with anything newly disgusting.

With two minutes left until the buzzer, Grady’s line was out trying to increase their one–nothing lead. He kept his head up going into the corner after the puck, but he could feel Max’s gaze on the back of his neck. He gritted his teeth.Don’t take a penalty.

A second later Max’s shoulder slammed into his. “Hey, bud, didn’t your mom warn you your face would stick like that?”

Grady gritted his teeth harder and shoved him back. “Thought you liked my face.”

Max dug at the puck, but Grady had it trapped between his skates. However tenacious Max might be, Grady was stronger. He flipped a pass to Yorkie, Max cursing behind him all the while.

Good.

The ensuing rush gave Grady a chance to show off. He wasn’t the flashiest guy on the ice, but he had good vision, always knew where he needed to be. Today he slipped into a gap left by two defenders in time to get his stick on Yorkie’s shot and tip the puck over the goalie’s pad.

2–0. Suck it, Canada.

He caught Max’s eye as he was crossing behind the net on his way to the group celly. Max was red-faced and narrow-eyed.

Grady smiled wider to rub it in.

For some reason, that only made Max laugh and turn back to his team, but whatever. Grady was winning. He didn’t care what was going on in Max’s head.

The second period started out chippy, and Canada scored while Baller was in the box for holding. Half a dozen more plays that should’ve been penalties went uncalled.

Including one where Grady was against the boards with Maxagain, with Max’s stick hooked around his ankle while Max kicked at the puck. “Hey, so I was thinking—”

Fuck it.Nothingwas getting called in this game. Grady brought his elbow back and Max’s breath whooshed out.

But he didn’t back off. “There’s a great little food cart outside my hotel. Let me treat you to a sausage—”

Grady snorted in spite of himself.

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