Page 110 of The Husband Game

Charlie smiled down at him. “You’re the captain of the team. It’s not like they’re going to cut you.”

“You never know …” Dustin teased. “Better do it to be safe.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie said with a laugh but he bent down, giving Dustin a thorough kiss. “There, will that do the trick?”

“It should.” Dustin reluctantly let go of him. “Have a good day, kitten.”

“You too.”

Dustin finished his breakfast, brushed his teeth, then headed for the rink.

Although eight a.m. was the official arrival time, he got there early and greeted Coach Casey and the assistant coaches.

“You ready for this season?” Casey asked.

“Hell yeah,” Dustin said with a grin. “I am pumped.”

“Glad to hear it.” Casey slapped him on the back. “I’m looking forward to seeing what we can do.”

Dustin grinned and walked to the locker room with a bounce in his step, eager to start.

At the beginning of every season, he always felt like a little boy with the same wide-eyed wonder about what was to come.

When he stepped into the dressing room, he was greeted with a whoop of excitement from a few of the guys who had already arrived. He hugged them and they talked excitedly about the upcoming season as they dressed in dryland gear.

Namely, shorts and a t-shirt because they were all going to be sweating their balls off later.

Dustin remembered how nervous he’d been his first year of training camp, anxious and overwhelmed by the idea of being there.

He’d spent half his formative years in the Chicago Windstorm locker room, following his dad around.

His dad’s teammates were like uncles to him, throwing him over their shoulders, playfully stuffing him into laundry carts, helping him practice his slapshot. When he was small, he’d never grasped what a big deal they were or how many people looked up to them.

They’d been his dad’s buddies, although even then he’d dreamed of growing up to be just like them.

And yet, when he’d attended his first training camp, he’d realized how lucky he was to be there.

Only 0.16% of youth hockey players ever made it to an NHL camp and yet, there he was surrounded by the big names, the guys he’d seen play on TV and live, Stanley Cup winners, All-Stars, and future Hall of Famers.

Guys he was fighting for a spot to play with.

And now, here he was.

Dustin probably wasn’t a future Hall of Famer like some of the players he knew. He was skilled and hardworking but he wasn’t a generational talent. But he’d won a Stanley Cup. He’d attended several All-Star games. He’d medaled at the Olympics.

It hit him every time how far he’d come. How lucky he was. How grateful he was for this organization and the way they’d nurtured his development. From the moment he’d pulled the jersey over his head on his draft day to now, he’d been a Fisher Cat.

With any luck, he’d retire one.

He looked around the room at the veteran guys laughing and talking as they dressed. The newer acquisitions were a little quieter, taking it all in.

The roster was slightly different every year, but still, they were a team. His team.

With a glance at the clock, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and gave a short, sharp whistle that made their heads snap up. “Okay, boys, who’s ready for some testing?”

A collective groan went up because no one loved the strength and conditioning tests, but there were a few whoops too—from Matty and Colton mostly—and they hustled to finish dressing and go to the fitness area.

By this point in his career, Dustin knew the routine like the back of his hand. Strength and conditioning tests first, followed by on-ice testing, then recovery time.

---