Page 197 of The Head Game

She leveled Nico with a stern look. “So help me God, if you have sex anywhere in this arena, I will make sure the only place you can play hockey going forward is somewhere in the Northern Territories with no cell service.”

Nico feigned a gasp. “Not that!”

“That. Now get out, you miscreant.”

“I still don’t know what that means,” Nico reminded her, but he let August drag him out of her office.

“A miscreant is a person who behaves badly or in a way that breaks the law,” August said as the door shut firmly behind them.

Nico snorted. “I know. I looked it up the last time she called me that. I just like to drive her nuts.”

“Well, you might be even better at that than you are at playing hockey,” August said with a grin.

“And that’s saying something,” Nico said. “I’m a talented hockey player, you know?”

“I seem to remember something about that and I’m looking forward to watching you show off next season.”

“Me too. Now, what do you say we go harass my teammates before we watch this game?”

“Sold.”

* * *

“Oh come on,” August protested, staring down at the ice. “That was a shit call.”

Nico cackled. “I love that even refs complain about bad reffing.”

August shook his head. “That was clearly high sticking. Cross-checking my ass.”

Nico leaned forward, pressing against August’s back. “I’ll cross-check your ass any time you like,” he whispered in his ear.

August laughed. “Not here. You remember what Kate keeps threatening us with.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nico grumbled. “She ruins all my fun.”

“All of it?” August shifted so he could wrap an arm around Nico. “I feel like she was a big help in getting us together so …”

“Well, there’s that,” Nico agreed. “We probably should send her a fruit basket or something.”

“I think she has enough fruit baskets around here to deal with,” August joked.

Nico feigned shock. “Did you … did you make a queer joke, Auggie? I’m so proud of you. Wait, no, LGBTQ+,” he corrected himself. “I remember you saying you don’t like queer.”

“Eh, it’s growing on me,” August admitted. “I think it started with Ryan Hartinger adding me to the group text chat. He throws the word around like it’s going out of style and that guy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.”

Nico beamed. “Isn’t that fun? I love that he started that for all of the out in the NHL guys. Well, and the retired ones. Since he and Murphy aren’t playing any longer.”

August squinted down at the ice. “Wait, what the hell set that off?” He gestured to the tangle of players on the blue line.

Nico peered down too. “Holy shit. Is that … is Jonah in a fight?”

“Brewer?” August said, frowning. “I doubt it. I’ve never seen him fight in any game I reffed.”

But the image on the Jumbotron flashed to number 79 taking a swing at one of Colorado’s players.

“Yeah that’s him,” Nico said. “Wow, I’ve never seen him drop gloves at all. I mean, I’m not going to claim I’m any kind of heavyweight out there but I’ve at least had a scrap or two. Jonah’s a fucking choir boy by comparison. He’s won the Lady Byng award twice.”

“Wonder what set him off?” August mused as they watched the linesmen circle, trying to get close enough to pry them apart.

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