He Shoots He Scores

by Tricia Owens

  “One player doesn’t drag a team to the Finals,” Neil said. He swept some snow with his stick, searching for positive memories of the playoff run. “I like to think I made my linemates better. Anderson had his best season. Wellington set some new personal bests. Those were my greatest achievements, not my individual stats.”

  “I’ve heard other players say something similar.” Bastion searched Neil’s face with youthful earnestness. “But you really mean it, I can tell. And that’s—that’s why I look up to you. There are lots of great players in the league, but not so many great leaders. I think it’d be more special to be one of those.” He grimaced. “Sorry, that sounded super cheesy.”

  “Maybe. But I hope you believe it because that’s how I feel, too.”

  Bastion brightened. “Good.”

  Neil tapped the younger man’s skates with his stick. “You’re up. Show me what you learned after watching me play.”

  Bastion laughed as he skated forward. “I’m only a rookie! Cut me some slack!”

  “You’re not winning the Calder with that attitude, young man!”

  Grinning, Neil watched his teammate surge forward, a puck on his stick. Bastion’s puck handling was phenomenal for someone his age, and Neil whooped accordingly as the young winger showed off his skills before going top shelf with his shot. The puck sailed high and into the upper corner of the net.

  Neil’s grin died a quick death, though, when he noticed a new figure skate onto the ice.

  “Wow, nice to see you, too,” Adrian said with a laugh as he coasted up behind Neil. “You look like you watched me run over your cat.”

  Neil turned away and searched for a puck. “What are you doing here?”

  “Practicing. Same as you. How do you think I got so good? By sitting on my sofa eating Swedish fish?”

  Neil skated away, but Adrian followed.

  “You’re wasting your energy, Neil. We’re going to be running into each other every day and most nights. We’re teammates now, remember?.”

  “You’re harassing me.” Neil skated faster, shooting up the middle.

  Adrian chased him.

  “You need to get over this,” Adrian warned him, keeping close enough that he didn’t have to raise his voice. “You and I are going to be closer than close for the remainder of your contract with the Kraken. If you keep acting like this, people are going to speculate about why you have some kind of personal issue with me. That’s the last thing you want, according to you.”

  Neil turned and began skating backward with no reduction in speed. “You don’t get to lecture me about being discreet.”

  “Just making sure we’re on the same page.” Adrian grinned boyishly. “Knew it’d happen soon enough.”

  The big moron didn’t get it. Neil skated away, taking a puck with him to the net at the other end of the ice. He heard Adrian greeting their teammates and hoped he stayed back there with them. Neil needed space from him. Seeing him again after last night was too much. The memories were too fresh. Hell, he could practically smell Adrian’s sweaty skin and taste him on his lips even now.

  “Want me to feed you?”

  Neil pretended he hadn’t heard as Adrian skated up to him, dragging the puck bag along.

  “Come on, Neil. Show off that shot. It’s going to be my new best friend from now on.”

  “I’m not in the mood.”

  “Neil.”

  He looked up into Adrian’s soft smile which was irritatingly close to being fond.

  “Just shoot a few pucks so the other guys see we’re good, okay? Let’s get along for the sake of the team, if nothing else.”

  Recalling what he’d told Bastion about the importance he placed on being a good teammate, Neil couldn’t refuse. Holding back his sigh, he skated to the wing. Adrian, with a wide, bright smile on his face, slid him a puck right on the tape of Neil’s stick. A perfect pass. Neil slapped it at the net.

  He fell into a rhythm after that, comforted by an act he’d performed maybe thousands of times in his career. Neil was a good shot, though his strength was in creative forechecking—puck handling around defenders and making seemingly impossible passes for his teammates to score off of. He thrived on being creative, on finding openings where there shouldn’t be any, on picking apart defenses with flashy plays. On this team he was fine with Adrian being the pure scorer, the sniper. Neil would earn his points by assisting on every one of the Swede’s goals. The two of them could be as dominating as Adrian hoped they’d be.

  “Your turn,” Neil said abruptly. He skated to the puck bag and pulled it back with him. “Let’s see this so-called shot of yours.”

  “Talking dirty to me, I love it,” Adrian said, oblivious to Neil’s sharp look. He took his position and smacked the blade of his stick against the ice impatiently. “Come on, baby. Feed me.”

  Neil slid him pass after pass, trying not to be impressed by Adrian’s speed or his pinpoint accuracy. Of course Adrian was good. Neil had played against him and witnessed firsthand the damage he could do in a game. But it was oddly different knowing that he was helping Adrian practice to be even better for Neil’s benefit, too.

  Adrian’s blond hair, curling against the top of his practice jersey, whipped to the side every time he took a shot. The sight was mesmerizing and Neil tried not to stare. But the winger’s movements were just as transfixing, his body moving powerfully as he launched puck after puck into the back of the net with unerring accuracy and force.

  “You’re drooling, Neil.”

  He flushed.

  “We’re done,” he said flatly and skated away.

  Adrian’s laughter followed him off the ice. Elias and Bastion were already in the locker room, stripping off their protective gear and shrugging back into their street clothes. None of them had worked up a sweat, thank god, so showers weren’t necessary. Neil would have taken a taxi back to his apartment if that were the case.

  “You up for dinner with the team?” Elias asked him as Neil began stripping. “We’ve got reservations at our favorite steak house tonight.”

  “Sounds great,” Neil forced himself to say. Even though he would have preferred to stew at home, he wasn’t foolish enough to do it. He had responsibilities and a commitment to the Kraken now.

  “We’re leaving the SOs at home for this,” Elias went on, “so it’ll be just the guys. I can swing around—”

  “I’ve got it covered,” Adrian cut in as he entered the room. His tanned cheeks were flushed, his eyes bright. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “Neil’s place is right by mine. I’ll bring him.”

  Neil gritted his teeth before mumbling, “Thanks.”

  Blue eyes beamed at him. “Least I can do for my new linemate.”

  This guy is going to be the death of me, Neil thought.

  Adrian’s surreptitious wink showed that he agreed.

  ~~~~~

  Depression was a demon Neil had battled in secret since he was a teenager. He didn’t even label it depression. He viewed it as a form of tiredness. Tired of trying. Tired of putting in the effort. Tired of putting on a smile when he didn’t feel like it.

  As the clock ticked toward dinner, the tiredness began creeping into his bones. When he could, he warded it off by skating at a rink or working out at the gym. But that wasn’t an option with the entire Kraken team waiting to welcome him to their team and to their city. He stared down at the carpet, hands clasped between his knees, and tried to imagine how bad it would look if he begged off sick.

  You already pled out with an injury. You only get one Get Out of Jail card, Neil, and you used it on the first day.

  The friendly and overly elaborate series of knocks on his door made him flinch as though he’d been sucker punched.

  Adrian Magnusson looked like a dream when Neil opened the door. Adrian’s long blond hair was combed back off his forehead. It contrasted nicely with the navy blue sweater stretched across his broad chest. His black slacks were tailored for his body as all hockey p
layers’ pants were. Adrian’s fit him like a second skin, showing off the goods in both front and back. Moira would be panting if she saw him.

  But it was Adrian’s eager smile that did for Neil what three pain pills and two cans of soda hadn’t done. It managed to drag Neil’s mood out of the mud where it had been wallowing.

  “Ready to meet the mutts?” Adrian asked.

  Neil wasn’t, but he nodded with forced enthusiasm. “Can’t wait.”

  He stood still as Adrian made no secret of checking him out. Neil had dressed simply, too, in a nice pair of jeans and a green button-down shirt.

  “Looking good,” Adrian said, his humor giving way to something more honest.

  “Adrian—”

  The Swede held up his hand to cut him off. “You’re paranoid, Neil, and it’ll give you away.”

  He was right, and Neil mentally slapped himself for the overreaction.

  “You doing okay?” Adrian asked him.

  Neil raised his head. He smiled. “I’m doing great.” He avoided Adrian’s gaze as he pulled the door shut behind him. “Let’s go.”

  Adrian drove a Volvo, which Neil refrained from commenting on. At least it was a sporty model. The interior smelled like Adrian and the seats were comfortable. It made Neil stare out the side window and fantasize about being held by him.

  He’d expected Adrian to rattle on about everything under the sun, but the winger was unexpectedly quiet and even turned on the radio, playing classical music at a low volume. The short drive to the restaurant turned out to be rather long. The smooth purr of the engine began to lull Neil into a daze.

  He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until the engine stopped. He blinked, surprised, and turned his head. In the driver’s seat, Adrian unclipped his seatbelt but made no move to exit the car. He relaxed into his seat and gazed ahead through the front windshield.

  “Are we there?” Neil looked ahead, confused. He saw only a dark strip that must be water, and the scatter of lights in the distance. “Is this the restaurant?”

  “I called Eli. Told him we wouldn’t make it. Told him I saw the state of your apartment and demanded that I help you settle in.”

  Neil frowned, unsure what was going on. “That’s a terrible excuse.”

  “It’s enough for them to get the message that nothing is seriously wrong and that you’ll catch up with them later.”

  Sitting up, Neil looked through the side windows. They appeared to be in the parking lot of a lake or riverside park. No other cars were in sight.

  “Don’t tell me you brought me here to make out,” Neil said dryly, though his heart skipped a beat at the thought.

  Adrian flashed him a grin before gazing ahead again. “The thought crossed my mind until I saw you drooling.”

  “I don’t drool.”

  “You’ve watched yourself sleep?”

  “Someone would have told me.”

  “When a guy’s got Neil Shannon asleep in his bed, I doubt he complains about anything.”

  Neil snorted but didn’t offer a counter. Maybe if he ignored all of Adrian’s sex-related comments he’d stop making them. He gazed out the window, curious to see how long the Swede would be content to sit there. Neil had to admit this was far preferable to a dinner with twenty other guys in which he’d be in the spotlight. But he remained suspicious of Adrian’s intentions.

  “People always make fun of the rain in Seattle,” Adrian murmured. “They make it sound like it’s constantly raining and everything is always soaked. But that’s not the case. It drizzles. It’s overcast. But the upshot is that everything is green and the air is fresh. It reminds me of parts of Sweden.”

  Neil indulged and admired the other man’s profile, which was limned by a park light. “Do you go back every summer?”

  “I used to. Now that I’ve moved here...I’m thinking of staying put this time. Just to see.”

  “See?”

  “See if this might be my new home.”

  Weariness found Neil. “It’s dangerous to label anywhere a home when you’re a hockey player. There’s no guarantee that any team will keep you. Although, I suppose your huge contract might protect you. No one’s going to take on that weight. Seattle is stuck with you.”

  “That’s not a nice way of saying I’m too valuable to move, Neil.”

  He smirked. “Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

  Adrian rested one arm along the door while the other lay carelessly in his lap. He looked huge—almost monolithic in the shadows—and yet his young, friendly face kept him approachable.

  “It was what I wanted more than the money, you know. When I was signing my contract.” He glanced at Neil. “I wanted a guarantee that I wouldn’t be traded. They wouldn’t give me that. But like you said, I’m being paid too much for another team to take me on. The owner and GM know that, so I guess it’s a guarantee in a roundabout way that I’m staying here.”

  “You’re lucky. Being traded against your will isn’t great.”

  “You don’t know that yet.”

  “We’ll see,” Neil allowed.

  “I can tell it’s been rough on you,” Adrian said, his tone casual, but Neil could tell his concern was real.

  It was nice to be cared about, though he wasn’t sure why Adrian did. Was he that hard up for a fuck buddy? Was he sticking up for another closeted player? Neither option was great, in Neil’s opinion.

  “Just because I fell asleep in your car doesn’t mean I’m traumatized,” he argued.

  “Maybe not. But comparing you now with everything I know of you from before—you’re pretty stressed out. I’m sorry for contributing to that.”

  Adrian sounded sincere, which was weird coming from a former rival. Neil still couldn’t help being wary, which he knew was the wrong attitude to have. The sooner he got over his mistrust, the sooner he could move on with the entire team.

  But a lot was at stake. Everything, in fact, and Neil couldn’t be blasé about it the way Adrian seemed to be. Neil didn’t know his new teammates. It took only one of them to start a rumor which could snowball into disaster.

  “I’m just tired,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine after a day or two when I’ve adjusted. I’m not the first player to be traded. I’m not suffering any more than those others did.”

  Adrian made a patronizing sound which Neil ignored.

  “The guys are good,” Adrian said. “Once you get to know them you’ll be happy you’re here. We have a good room. Everyone’s on board with our plan to get to the Finals. You’ll feel like you found a family that will support you.”

  Neil nodded, thinking about the reactions of his new family when they discovered he was only a shadow of the player he’d been.

  “And you’ve got a friend in me.” Adrian turned his head. His eyes caught the light, turning them silver. “No matter what, you’ll always have that. I’ll have your back, Neil.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I mean it.”

  Neil looked away. “I’m not looking for a gay confidant.”

  “So now you’re discriminating against me because I’m gay?”

  Adrian’s wounded tone forced Neil to bite his lips to hold back a smile. He wanted to be annoyed with the other winger, but Adrian was making it too damn difficult, which was annoying in itself. Neil didn’t want to be charmed.

  He startled when a hand settled on his shoulder. Adrian was leaning closer, cutting the space between them.

  “What do you want from your time here, Neil?”

  He couldn’t look away from Adrian’s eyes. They were fringed with lashes so pale they made his eyes seem surrounded by starbursts.

  “I just want to play hockey,” Neil said, “and if I’m lucky, retire with this team, even if I have to do it on the fourth line.”

  Adrian grinned. “Never gonna happen. You’ll be on the top line with me. I’ll keep you good, baby.”

  Neil flushed, mentally catapulted back to the hotel in Baltimore. “What are you doing?”r />
  Adrian’s hand came up and cupped his chin. Neil told himself to pull away, except once he felt a thumb against his bottom lip, he found himself frozen.

  “We’re alone,” Adrian said softly, “and I’m not as strong as I thought I’d be.”

  Neil caught his wrist. “Adrian, don’t. We can’t do this.”

  “Forget ‘can’t.’ Do you want to?”

  “It’s not that simple, dammit.”

  “It’s as simple as we want to make it.” Adrian pressed his thumb down lightly, parting Neil’s lips. “I think you want to kiss me.”

  Neil finally let the laugh slip out, though it caused Adrian’s thumb to dip inside his mouth and stroke across his bottom teeth. Adrian watched himself trace the ridges of Neil’s teeth.

  Neil tightened his grip around his wrist. “We can’t. We’d be risking everything. Is this really worth it?”

  After several seconds, Adrian released Neil’s chin, prompting more disappointment than Neil would ever let him know. Neil sighed. “At least you’re not as stupid as—”

  Adrian surged forward and wrapped his hand behind Neil’s neck, pulling him forward. “Actually, I think maybe it is worth it.”

  Neil resisted only for a second, for the time it took Adrian to crush the thread of space between their lips where reason still lived.

  It wasn’t a slow, tentative kiss this time. It was all heat and wetness from the get-go. The moan came out before Neil could stop it, but it was met by Adrian’s approving groan and Neil couldn’t be embarrassed. He couldn’t be anything but hungry for Adrian’s lips, for his tongue, for the fingers that combed restlessly against the back of his neck. Adrian’s other hand came up to frame Neil’s face. He liked to hold Neil in place for his kisses, apparently, and that was more than alright with Neil. He felt possessed and wanted by this sexy man. Wanted, maybe, as much as Neil wanted him.

  “This is so wrong,” Neil panted when he found a chance to speak. Fingers beneath his jaw tipped his head back and he went with it, gasping to the ceiling of the car as hot lips explored his throat. “We’ll be in so much trouble.”

  “No, we won’t,” Adrian whispered against his skin. He licked a stripe across Neil’s Adam’s apple. “No one will ever find out. We’ll be careful.”