Save of the Game

by Avon Gale

  “It’s all just sex, sex, sex with you. Isn’t it?” Ethan sighed dramatically, but he looked pleased. “If we have feelings, then you’re my boyfriend. And if you’re my boyfriend, then I’m sleeping with you.” Ethan crossed his arms. “I might have let you out of it if you’d blamed it on hockey, but you didn’t. And now you can’t.”

  Riley reached out, grabbed Ethan, and pulled him hard against him. “Good.” He kissed him. Maybe they were still learning all the other stuff, but Riley decided they were really good at kissing. Top tier of the kissing league. Definitely.

  Things I’m never saying out loud, ever.

  “What? You’re laughing. Are you laughing at my kissing? I’m trying not to hurt your lip, idiot, but if you’re going to laugh, I’ll hit you again.”

  Riley pushed Ethan on his bed and climbed on top of him. Fighters were supposed to stop when they went down. Right? Maybe instinct would kick in.

  If not, Riley would take Ethan’s pants off. It was always good to a have a plan.

  Chapter Nine

  THE SEASON was going well for the Sea Storm. They had won enough games to put them firmly in playoff contention, and Riley was happy with how he was playing. He was learning new techniques, and his instincts were sharp and focused. The coaches remarked more than once that they could see an improvement in how confident he was in net.

  Getting laid all the time sure didn’t hurt his confidence either.

  When Ethan’s former team, the Vegas Blackjacks, were in town, Riley gave in and went out after the game with Ethan and a few of Ethan’s old teammates. The night ended with Riley driving them home, after Ethan had a lot more than a few beers, several Jack and Cokes, and two ill-advised shots of Jaegermeister. Riley was fairly certain there wasn’t any other kind of Jaegermeister shot and figured Ethan would probably agree with him in the morning.

  But Ethan was all over Riley that night when they got home, trying to shove him around and saying things that were really hot, like “Pin me down and choke me with your cock again.” But he also giggled and told Riley that the room was spinning—and could they have a threesome sometime? Maybe with Jennifer Lawrence, because she was hot.

  Then he bolted into the bathroom and threw up. Riley got him some water and some aspirin, and made him eat two pieces of toast and drink a coconut water before going to sleep.

  “You’ll thank me in the morning,” he told him, pulling the trash can closer to Ethan’s side of the bed.

  “Your face will thank me in the morning,” Ethan muttered, cranky because he couldn’t get Riley to make out with him

  “You just threw up, dude.”

  “So? I brushed my teeth.”

  In the morning Ethan was hungover and sprawled on the couch whining. He was horrible at being sick. Riley asked him things like “Did you take some aspirin?” or “Do you want more water?” And Ethan looked at him like Riley just asked him to win the Stanley Cup.

  “Would you just stop it?” Frustrated, Riley bopped Ethan in the head with a pillow. “I can get you some water, dude. That’s not even boyfriend shit. That’s just normal friend stuff.”

  “I’m not really sick, though,” Ethan protested. “I’m just hungover.”

  “You seemed pretty sick before you fell asleep. And two hours after that. And this morning, when you were trying to pretend you weren’t throwing up in the trash can.” Riley snorted. “What was I supposed to think you were doing? Looking for something in there?”

  “My dignity,” Ethan muttered and fell back on the couch. “Shut up. I’m the one who got trashed last night.”

  “Right.” Riley got him a coconut water. “Here. You can have a Pepsi after you have two of these. Don’t glare. Come on. You know your head hurts because you’re dehydrated.”

  “My head hurts because I’m decaffeinated,” Ethan whined, but he drank his coconut water. “Why has this started tasting good? I don’t get it.”

  “Me neither.” Riley shrugged. “It just does after a while. Want some lunch? I’m going to go for a run. I can bring some back.”

  “Stop being so athletic,” Ethan mumbled. “And responsible. Why can’t I date someone who’s like me?”

  “Because you’d end up in rehab,” Riley said. He laughed when Ethan threw a couch pillow at him.

  “I’ll blow you if you bring me back McDonalds,” Ethan yelled as Riley closed the apartment door on his way out to go running.

  Their neighbor across the way, a very old man wearing a wide-brimmed hat, raised his bushy eyebrows at Riley. “Kid must really need a cheeseburger,” he said without inflection.

  “He does,” Riley agreed, choking on a laugh. His face was bright red, and he ran faster down the stairs than he did once he got to the beach.

  He went by Cruisers after his run, because it sounded better than McDonalds. And besides, he could spend money on hangover food and Ethan wouldn’t complain. Food of any kind really. He wouldn’t let Riley buy him Jameson’s, and he still insisted on paying half for a pizza if they got it delivered. But if Riley just appeared with food to be eaten immediately, he could usually make Ethan forget about asking how much he owed him. Or at the very least, get a blow job out of it.

  At Cruisers he saw a familiar redhead sitting on a barstool, messing with her phone. “Hey, Zoe.” He smiled as he walked up to put in a carry-out order. “You working today?”

  “Riley!” The way she said his name was awesome. He had no idea the I could go on that long. “Nah. Just picking up an order to go. I get a discount, and me and Ryan need some food. Ain’t either of us a very good cook, but I might go insane if I gotta eat another pizza. They got other food in Canada, do you think? Because I don’t think they do.”

  “You should ask Lane,” Riley suggested and then winced. “Just make sure to be really specific what you’re asking.” Definitely don’t ask him for blow job tips unless you want to know way too much about his and Jared’s sex life.

  “Duh.” Zoe patted the barstool next to her. “Hop up here, sugar. I’ll make sure the bartender pays attention and takes your order.”

  “So you’ve got a hungover boyfriend too?” Riley asked, while they waited. He caught Zoe’s stare and gave her a confused look in return. “What?”

  “Too?” She raised her eyebrows. “You and Kennedy?” Before Riley could say anything, she giggled. “That’s kinda adorable. And actually, yeah. That makes a lot of sense.”

  “Does it?” Riley’s face was on fire, but he couldn’t help asking.

  Zoe took a sip of her soda, clearly trying to think through what she wanted to say. “Yeah. I mean, Kennedy’s intense, and he needs someone to balance him out. Does Lane know about y’all?”

  “I told him. Yeah.” Riley ordered the food, then sat down next to Zoe to wait for it. They chatted about the hockey-camp thing and about how good Ethan was with the kids there. He was much better than Riley, who hadn’t been around kids that age since he was one. The kids loved Ethan. Some of them gave him hugs when he showed up.

  Most of them couldn’t remember Riley’s name, so they just called him Goalie.

  Zoe’s order arrived, and Riley’s a few minutes later. He stopped on the way home, picked up some beer, and wondered if he should get Ethan some cigarettes. He would want them later and go out and get them himself if Riley didn’t bring him some. But Riley really wanted him to stop smoking so much.

  In the end he bought the cigarettes and a bottle of Gatorade.

  Ethan was asleep when Riley got back, so he put the sports drink and the cigarettes on the table, got his food out of the bag, and put Ethan’s in the fridge. Ethan was taking up the entire couch, so Riley sat on the floor and ate his lunch.

  Ethan kept sleeping, which was probably good for him, even if Riley was going to eat his cheeseburger for dinner if Ethan didn’t wake up. Riley played a few games of NHL 14 and was thinking about throwing things at Ethan and/or taking embarrassing pictures with his phone, when Ethan finally stirred.

  “I ha
te drinking,” he said, blinking at Riley. “I’m never doing it again. Ever. Hi.”

  “Hi. Just a sec.” Riley deftly kept the computer-controlled Ryan Callahan from scoring on Brodeur. “I’m beating the Rangers.” He paused the game and smiled at Ethan. “I picked up some food and a six-pack.”

  Ethan’s eyes brightened. “Yeah? Sweet.” So much for not drinking ever again—not that Riley believed that. “I need a shower.” His gaze settled on the table, and he looked back at Riley with a strange expression. “Is that for me?”

  Riley nodded. “I don’t smoke. Remember? I almost didn’t get them because you should quit. But you know. Hangovers and all that.”

  “Thanks,” Ethan mumbled without looking at him. For a moment Riley worried that Ethan was mad. But then he gave Riley a small smile, and Riley could tell he was pleased. “That was nice of you.”

  Riley just shrugged and smiled back. “I’m a nice guy. Go take a shower or I’ll eat your cheeseburger.”

  “Fuck you. I’ll cut you.” Ethan grinned, stood up, and ran his fingers through Riley’s hair affectionately as he passed him on his way to the bedroom. “I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but you’re pretty good at it.”

  “Thanks,” Riley answered, voice a little rough. He finished beating Ethan’s favorite hockey team on the video game, shouting things at him from the living room like “Lundqvist couldn’t stop a sneeze in this game.”

  Ethan’s response to that was a loud shout of “Your goalie is too old.”

  That night Ethan slept with him, but they didn’t do much more than make out for a few minutes. Which was weird, because usually Ethan slept with him so they could do more things involving their dicks. But it was nice. More than that, it felt normal.

  The whole day had been like that actually. It reminded Riley of being in goal for a winning game—the nerves and the anticipation, the rush and the adrenaline, the calm certainty and absolute trust in his instincts.

  That thought kept Riley awake for a bit. Not because he was weirded out or worried, but because he wasn’t. He listened to Ethan’s deep, even breathing and wondered if that was how it felt to fall in love.

  Chapter Ten

  ETHAN WAS bummed that he couldn’t go home for Thanksgiving, but there were so many Canadian guys on the team that they all ended up going out to one of those hibachi-grill places. Riley went too, and Ethan was glad he stuck around for the holiday, even if it made him mad that no one in Riley’s family had called to wish him a happy Thanksgiving.

  Dating was great, and Ethan liked all the sex stuff and how Riley did things like warm up pizza in the oven instead of the microwave and make Ethan drink water and not smoke before games. He was still getting used to the whole “have someone take care of me” thing, but the sex sure helped it be a lot less weird.

  Road trips were a bummer, because Riley had a “no sex before away games” rule that he refused to break. They spent most of their time on a bus, and their teammates might be aware they were dating—Ethan might have gotten drunk on Thanksgiving and informed everyone at the hibachi grill, including the waiter and the chef, that he was thankful for his hot boyfriend—but that didn’t mean they wanted a show.

  Ethan’s roommate on the road was Bennett Halley, and Ethan had a dark suspicion that Halley didn’t approve of him and Riley. Halley always made a point to be in their room after games instead of going out. But that might have more to do with Halley still not being able to score on Riley in practice.

  Or it might be that time when Halley got frustrated at having Riley turn yet another shot away and told Riley to “Go back to Montana, cowboy.” It wasn’t really that mean, but Ethan heard him and tried to punch Halley for saying it.

  Coach Spencer ran them through extra drills for that and then hauled them both to his office. Halley was spitting mad, probably because Halley had tried to duck Ethan’s punch and ended up falling down on the ice. Everyone laughed and started calling him Rocky. Halley had been around the game long enough to know that nickname would stick.

  It was a cool nickname, though. Halley shouldn’t be so pissed.

  “What the fuck was that?” Spence asked, arms crossed. “Why are you throwing punches at your teammate, Kennedy? This isn’t The Real Housewives of Jacksonville, you know.”

  Naturally that made Ethan mad. “Are you calling us girls to make us ashamed or something, because that’s lame… Coach,” he added in an attempt to be respectful. He did like Coach Spencer, despite his tendency to yell at him and his strangely violent metaphors.

  “No, Kennedy. I am not. Have you ever seen girls fight? They don’t give up that easy. I have three daughters.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Ethan said, surprised. “Do they play hockey?” He wondered if they were hot.

  “No,” Spence said with gritted teeth. “And you aren’t supposed to know that. I don’t want my precious darlings around you Neanderthals.”

  Ethan was now imagining three girls with identical crossed arms and glares, until Spence cleared his throat and Ethan realized he was supposed to say something.

  “He was giving the goalie shit,” Ethan answered, a bit sheepishly. “I beat people up when they do that. That’s my thing.”

  “Yes,” Spence sighed. He sounded very tired. “When they’re on the other team. Don’t do that. Okay? And you, Halley? What’d you say to Hunter? Don’t pretend you didn’t say anything, because I heard you running your mouth. You just score enough goals to make me pretend you’re an annoying cartoon character that a mouse will blow up with a bomb at some point.”

  “I chirped him, but I don’t know why that got Kennedy’s panties in a twist.”

  Ethan glared at him. “Did you not hear me say how lame it is to call me a girl as an insult?”

  “Kennedy, stop trying to right the wrongs of society. This is a locker room, not a fucking peace rally. And Halley, don’t you ever say the word panties around me again. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

  “I said he should go back to Montana and called him a cowboy,” Halley said.

  Spence turned to Ethan. “And you hit him for that? Why, Kennedy?”

  Ethan wasn’t sure, but he probably shouldn’t say that. “Because Riley’s from Wyoming.”

  Halley was still pissed at Ethan when they left on their next road trip, but Ethan made it up to him by earning a five-minute major penalty and a ten-minute game misconduct for fighting because some guy on the other team threw a late hit on Halley.

  Their next game in Savannah was a lot better than their 6-2 loss earlier in the season. Ethan got in a fight with Jace Wynn, gave Wynn a respectable black eye and a split lip, and got a shiner of his own out of it.

  Ethan liked Wynn a lot, actually. He spent his time in the penalty box wondering if he thought Wynn was hot. Was Riley the only guy he was into? Did it even work like that?

  He didn’t know, but he knew one thing for sure—he might let Wynn blow him, but no way would he get on his knees for him like he did for Riley.

  That made his attention wander, and he spent the duration of his entire five-minute penalty watching Riley move in the goal. So he saw the Renegades’ best player, Darcy Leblanc, crash into the net and knock Riley over to score a goal.

  Riley was mad and clearly trying to argue that the goal shouldn’t have counted due to goalie interference. It ended with Riley hitting his stick on the ice, which was something Ethan had never seen Riley do, even in practice. It was really hot, though. Riley even skated after the linesman to keep yelling about it, but the linesman blew the whistle and gave him a penalty.

  Ethan was joined in the box by Becker, who served the penalty for Riley because goalies didn’t go to the box. “He’s pissed,” Becker told Ethan. “I’ve been playing with him for three years. He’s never done that.” He sounded proud. “Good for him. That’s a bullshit goal.”

  Ethan liked to think he was rubbing off on Riley. And not just in a sexy way.

  That was pretty much the end of anything
civilized in the game. The second he got out of the box, Ethan went gunning for Leblanc. Though not a fighter, Leblanc was tough, and he wasn’t going to back down. He threw his gloves down and squared off with Ethan.

  Ethan was so mad, he didn’t pull his punches like he should have with a guy like Leblanc. That got him five minutes and another game misconduct, meaning he missed the rest of the second period.

  In the third the Renegades put their enforcer out. It wasn’t Wynn, who was technically a winger, but a defenseman like Ethan. That guy looked like he was Colossus from X-Men and spoke no English. Ethan was a fighter, but Colossus was a tank, and Ethan knew he probably deserved the pounding he got for not following fighters’ rules with Leblanc.

  That time he didn’t get five minutes and a game misconduct. He got ejected and had to watch the rest of the game from the locker room.

  Riley played like a god, stopping every shot thrown at the net. But the Storm couldn’t score, and the game ended with Leblanc’s bullshit goal giving the Renegades the win.

  It wasn’t one of those games where you go out and get drunk with the other team, but Ethan went to find Leblanc anyway. It turned out that apologizing to a guy for not pulling your punches was insulting, and that got him a cold stare and Leblanc muttering in French, like he didn’t know any English.

  Coach Spencer yelled at Ethan for fifteen minutes in the locker room after the game. Everyone had to get on the bus and wait for Ethan to finish getting his ass chewed out.

  “Kennedy, I wanted you on this team because when you play smart, when you’re thinking with your head instead of your tattoos, or whatever else it is you think with, you’re an asset to our morale. You get the guys fired up. You get the crowd fired up. You get the other team fired up. Are you following what I’m saying, son?”

  Ethan’s back stiffened. “I’m not your son.” He said it flatly, and there must have been something in his eyes that made Spence nod.