Page 227 of Pucking Sweet

Princess mews in his arms, squirming to be put down.

I just grin. “Did you rewrite a Queen song for the cat?”

“No.” He sets her down.

“How many verses have you done?”

“Well, that’s none of your goddamn business,” he replies, stroking her tail as she leads the way over to her food dish.

“So, all of them then,” I tease, stepping into the kitchen.

After months of simmering resentment on both sides, Princess and Lukas have finally struck an accord. He feeds her. She can’t hate the hand that feeds her, right? At least, not forever. He peels open the can of food, tipping it into her pink bowl.

“You about ready?” I say at him.

“Do you think she’s lonely?” he replies, scratching her butt.

I lean against the island with my hip. “No, I think she’s spoiled rotten. I think she has three humans who feed her, brush her, and call her precious 24/7. She lives better than any of us. If she’s bored, we’ll get her another cat tower to climb.”

“I didn’t say bored, I said lonely,” he replies. “I think she needs a friend.”

“Well, she’s about to have a new human friend here in a couple weeks. Let’s just focus on that.”

He nods, giving her one last pat. “Yeah, okay.”

I give his shoulder a shove. “Come on. We can’t be late, or Pop’ll kill us.”

“No, she won’t,” he says with a laugh. “We’re too damn pretty.”

“Just get your shit, and let’s go.”

Poppy and her team have been working on this little project for months. Most of the NHL teams run hockey camps in the summer for youth. Under Poppy’s guidance, the Rays are hosting their first camp this week, and all the participants have full scholarships, which includes a gifted pair of skates, a stick, and a cool tie-dyed camp tee.

Lukas and I are both already wearing the tees. We’re camp counselors, along with a few other Rays. We’ll be working with the kids on drills, and at the end of the week we’ll play a game.

Growing up in Canada, playing hockey is just a normal option for a kid. It’s as normal as saying you want to play basketball or soccer. But here in Florida, hockey is rare. It feels good to know we can spread the joy of the sport in our own backyard.

We make our way to the practice rink, laughing and joking as we get ready. Today’s just about footwork drills and stick handling, so we don’t bother with pads or helmets. Lukas and I are both in long pants and camp tees. Down the bench, Jake and Sanny get ready too, wearing their matching tie-dyed tees.

“Look at us,” Jake jokes. “Who’d a thought, huh?”

I sit back with a groan, rubbing my chest. That damn breakfast burrito smothered in ranchero sauce is giving me indigestion. “It surprises you that we all volunteered to be camp counselors?”

“I’ll have it stated that I didnotvolunteer,” Lukas says with a raise of his hand. “Poppy forced me on pain of no sex so…”

“No, it surprises me that we’re allhere, living the life, you know?” Jake glances around.

“What life?” asks Sanny.

“The queer life,” Jake replies. “Guys, we’re sitting here wearing tie-dyed shirts, head-over-skates in love with our own teammates. It’s pretty cool, right? I mean, this was never on my bingo card, but I’m so fucking happy.”

Lukas and I exchange a grin. “Yeah, that bingo’ll get you every time,” he replies.

Jake snaps his fingers. “We should all do Pride. The parade, I mean. When is that?” He looks to Sanny.

“It already passed,” he replies, tying his skate laces. “It’s at the beginning of June.”

“Well, next year, we’re doing it,” Jake says, getting to his feet. “I mean all of us, the whole team, the girls too. We’ll even bring the dog. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

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