Page 19 of Time to Shine

“I know, buddy,” Clint said. “It was nice of you. I’m just being a dick. How’s it working out? He seems quiet.”

Casey gazed down the ice to where Landon was talking to the goalie coach. His mask was flipped up, showing off his sharp jawline and serious expression. “He’s not super chatty, but he’s cool. I like him.”

“I remember when I was called up,” Clint said. “I was fucking terrified. Fitzy let me live with him until I found my own place. Remember that guy?”

Lee nodded and Casey didn’t because he was far younger than either of them.

“Made a big difference,” Clint continued. “Made me feel like less of an outsider, driving to practices and stuff with him. So, yeah. Good on you for helping Stackhouse out.”

Casey’s heart swelled at the praise. “It’s nothing. I have plenty of room, y’know?”

Lee laughed. “Yeah, no shit. Your house is bigger than mine and I’ve got two kids.”

“I probably should have bought something smaller,” Casey agreed. “But Dad said it was a good investment, and I dunno. It’s a nice house.”

“If Dougie Hicks wants to give me investment advice, I’m all ears,” Clint said.

“Yeah, same,” Lee said. “I know Ross has a buddy who’s looking for investors for his business. Ross is talking it up like it’s the next Amazon, but I dunno.”

“I can tell you right now that Dad’s advice would be to not invest in anything your buddies think is a sure thing. He taught me that early.” Dougie Hicks was nearly as famous among hockey players for being smart with his money as he was for his legendary hockey career. His intelligence was the other thing, besides his height, that Casey hadn’t inherited.

Coach Patrick blew his whistle and announced that they were going to end the practice with breakaway drills. Some of the guys cheered because breakaway drills were fun.

Lee put his gloves back on and tilted his head in Landon’s direction. “Let’s see what your boy’s got.”

Casey had suspected, during previous practice drills, that Landon might be a decent goalie, but during the breakaway drill he decided he was better than decent; Landon was really fucking good.

“Jesus Christ,” Clint bellowed after being denied by Landon for the third time. “You can retire, Nisk. We don’t need you anymore.”

“Good,” Antton said from where he was standing by the boards. “I’m sick of you assholes.”

Casey felt...proud. He knew he had no right to—he barely knew Landon—but he was definitely rooting for him. When it was his turn to shoot, he decided to try out a tricky move that he’d managed to beat Antton with once.

Landon stopped him cold.

That really got the boys hollering. Everyone was having fun now.

“I thought we were friends,” Casey teased as he bumped his glove against Landon’s blocker pad.

Behind the mask, Casey saw the faintest suggestion of a smile.

Casey watched from the centerline as Landon stopped shot after shot, never with more movement than was necessary. Anyone who knew hockey could tell he based his style on Antton Niskanen. It was kind of cute. And impressive.

When it was Antton’s turn to go in the net, Casey met Landon by the boards. “So, no big deal, but you just fucking destroyed this whole team.”

Landon flipped his mask up. “As if.”

“Seriously, dude. That was sexy.”

Landon’s gaze dropped to the ice, and he shuffled his skates. “Thanks. I guess.”

“You want Thai food tonight?”

Landon glanced over at him. His brow was pinched, as if he’d forgotten that they lived together now. “Sure. Sounds good.”

“Cool.”

“But, um,” Landon said, “my treat, okay?”

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