“He’s not my fucking type,” said Powers. “I don’t like assholes.”
Wolf frowned. “By assholes do you mean…the body part, or personality? I’m having trouble keeping up.”
“Personality, obviously,” said Powers. “Who comes into a guy’s crease like he owns it?”
Jason was the literal embodiment of a dumb blond. He had no idea that his phrasing sounded bad, even when the room went quiet with stifled laughter. He gave them a weird look and went back to checking his gear.
“I need to quit my job,” Harrison muttered to Jett and Wolf. “I can’t deal with these idiots for the next ten years.”
“Oh, you changed your mind about being my stay-at-home husband?” Jett asked him with an excited grin. “I get to come home to you being all domestic and cooking me dinners?”
“Not on your life, Fraser.”
Wolf cackled, bending to start his ritual of untying and tying his skates back up before it was time to go out again. “You two are funny. I like watching you.”
Jett nudged Wolf playfully in response. The Sunburst guys were amazing.
Plenty of teams in the league wouldn’t have been so easygoing about their locker room conversations. Teams that wouldn’t be willing to deal with Jett and Harrison sitting close to each other, sharing space and nothing else.
But the majority of his teammates were straight, married, and very securely confident in who they were as individuals. Their friendliness was sometimes the butt of jokes in media conversations and fan groups, but they were too well-loved for any negative feedback to affect them.
He was happy here. Jett could see himself playing for the Sunbursts for his entire career and growing up with them. He could see his kids smiling at him from behind the glass, wearing their blue and white jerseys. He could see Harrison coaching them until Jett retired, and if Jett had anything to say about it, keeping the job past his career because he was so good at it.
The respect these guys had for Harrison made Jett feel like he was swimming in an ocean of happiness. They didn’t give a damn that he was younger and had never played in the NHL, they were just glad that he was there to have their backs.
“Killinger,” Romy Leclerc, a guy on their fourth line, said in a heavy French accent. “I know you don’t drink, but do you play billiards? Jetty won’t play a game with us.”
“Billiards is the only thing you can do in Nova Scotia besides hunting and fishing,” said Harrison. “So yes, I can play.”
“You and me against Wolf and Comier then,” said Leclerc. “There’s an imported car from Germany on the table. I’ll let you take it out on weekends.”
“Deal,” said Harrison.
The warm feeling washed over Jett once more. Jesus, he was turning into such a sap.
Wolf gave Harrison a betrayed frown when he finished with his skates. “I only made that deal because I was playing against Bracken and Leclerc, and they had no chance of winning.”
Harrison shrugged. “Next time, make a clause to keep members the same.”
Wolf turned his offended look on Jett. “You really going to marry that asshole?”
Jett nodded. “Unless you’re offering me something better, Wolfy?”
“Ha!” Wolf lifted his water bottle and squirted some at Jett’s face. “In your dreams, little ferret. I’m not into brats…or blonds.”
“Why do you spend so much time in front of the mirror then?”
“Okay.” Harrison picked up Jett’s jersey and forced it into his hands. “Settle down, kids. Intermission is almost over.”
Jett
The first thing that Park did once they were back on the clock was score a goal so beautiful it was bound to be on a reel by the end of the night. Conclave fans were screaming and jumping in the stands as their favourite player dazzled them with flashy stick handling and speed that would make any city proud.
It was a well-deserved goal, but fuck Jett hated it.
They had to play more cautiously to keep their one-point lead, but he knew they wouldn’t win like this. Park was too good. He would eventually break past their defence and get another point. It was just a matter of time.
Jett knew this, which is why he took a huge risk the next time he had the puck, slapping it toward the Ottawa net to force the goalie out, and then catching the rebound just to put it away top-shelf.
