Page 178 of Pucking Strong

“Oh … fuck.”

The game ends 4-1 with a Rays win. Corey chased Henrik all over the ice for two periods, scrapping like he had something to prove, but Henrik still earned two of the goals. My throat feels like it’s on fire from how much I cheered for him, even if I was only watching it on the TV in the PT room.

The second goal was wild. Henrik hooked it on the end of his blade, a lucky pass from Lindberg, and did a kind of pirouette around Corey, flicking the puck into the top of the net. To my surprise and delight, he’s kept “Money Maker” as his goal song all season. It’s ridiculous and makes me love him so much I fear I might literally pass out each time I get to watch him skate around the rink in a victory lap.

The game ended twenty minutes ago, and I’m deep into all the cooldown routines. I’ve got DeGraw back up on the table, helping him stretch out.

“Well, Doc?” he asks. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what?” I say, putting pressure on his hip as he turns.

“About Roshni,” he grunts, breathing through the stretch. “Is she coming?”

Oh, fuck me. With all my personal drama, I forgot to even ask. “I …”

He must read my face. “It’s okay, Doc. I’m sure she’s not coming. She doesn’t come to anything.”

“Does she know she’s invited? Meaning haveyouinvited her?”

He just grunts, rolling to his other side.

“I’ll take that caveman sound as a no?”

“She’s so far out of my league,” he mutters, gazing off at the poster-clad wall. “Plus, workplace romances, eh? Who needs ’em?”

I snort a laugh, helping him into a deeper hip flex. “Uhh, judging by the dynamics of this team? Like, literally everyone. Myself included. I was so head over heels for my workplace crush, I went off and married him. So, careful with that talk, DeGraw, or you might just be next.”

He chuckles through his deep exhale. “Yeah, Doc. Good advice.”

By the time I get DeGraw off the table, most of the other guys are clearing out, fresh from their showers.

“Hey,” Novy calls over to me. “Rip’s tonight. I’m bringing Coley. You guys in?”

“We’re coming,” I say with a wave.

“Any chance you’ll get Karlsson on the mic?” says Paulie.

I just laugh. “Doubtful. But, hey, if you can find someone to be our Chilli, I’m up for singing ‘No Scrubs.’”

“Cool. Do I get to be T-Boz?”

“Hell no. I’m T-Boz. Always.”

Laughing, he waves me off.

I find Henrik waiting for me in the hallway, dressed in his charcoal suit. He’s fresh from a shower, the hair at his nape still wet and curling slightly. “Hey, babe. You ready? Karaoke time.”

Once I’m close enough, he pulls me in with his free hand and kisses me rough. I sigh with relief, opening my mouth to take his tongue. The kiss is powerful and claiming, leaving me in no doubt of where his mind is at in this moment.

“Hen,” I gasp as he pulls away.

“We’re going home.”

“But karaoke—”

“I’m taking you home,” he says over me, his voice practically a growl. Then he loosens his hold on me, his shoulders relaxing a little. “Teddy, please.”

I nod, brushing my hands down the lapels of his jacket. “Yeah, okay.”

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