“I love you more,” Jett chirped back.
A hand cupped his chin, forcing his head up to meet Harrison’s gaze.
“Impossible.”
Heart fluttering, Jett smiled and made a big show of rolling his eyes. “You couldn’t stand me when we first met. I’ve been in love with you since the first time I saw you move on the ice, so by my calculations, I have you beat.”
Harrison raised his eyebrow in the cocky way that always made the butterflies in Jett’s stomach light on fire.
“When was the first time you saw me on the ice?”
Jett smiled as memories from his childhood bubbled up without the pain that usually accompanied them.
“I was ten and you would have been fifteen,” said Jett quietly, finding himself suddenly sitting in his father’s truck on a crisp Fall afternoon, marvelling at the red and gold colours of the trees as they zipped by them on the highway. “My dad surprised me with an overnight trip to Halifax, our first one without Chase and my mom. He had bought tickets for a Jr. A. hockey game playing that night, so we could cheer on an older boy from our community. He thought it would be good motivation to see where that boy was now, and help light a fire under my ass.”
“You were ten?” Harrison chuckled awkwardly. “That’s a little young for love, Sunshine.”
“It wasn’tlove,love,” Jett said, cutting him off before he thought too hard about it. “I don’t know what word I would have used, but when I saw you on the ice—the nameKillingeron your sweater and the intensity in your blue eyes—it was a powerful feeling. We were in the nosebleed seats, and I sat beside my dad with my mouth wide open for the whole game. The way you commanded your team on the ice, and the way you made every movement look as easy as breathing…it changed something in me.”
The arms around him tightened, and Jett smiled, allowing himself to be pulled in closer until his head was tucked under Harrison’s chin.
“Hockey is a violent and painful sport, but fuck, you made it look so beautiful. It was a humbling experience as much as it was life-altering because I knew there was no way I would ever reach your level with your effortless motion and unyielding strength. The only thought running through my head in that moment was holy fuck, Harrison Killinger wasbornto be on that ice.”
There was a shift in Harrison’s breathing. Jett pressed a gentle kiss to his bare throat.
“You got a Hat Trick in the first period,” Jett continued, the memories unravelling so rapidly he could barely keep up. “The captain on the other team was so pissed that he cross-checked you, and every guy on the ice jumped in to fight him while you glided backward, grinning and saluting him like a cocky motherfucker. I didn’t think you would start anything because of the age difference between you and the other guys there, but before the puck dropped for the second period start, you dropped your gloves and challenged him.”
“Oh.” Harrison brushed his fingers into Jett’s hair. “I remember the game you’re talking about. He called me a fag and the ref didn’t stop him, so I decided to kick his ass.”
“That makes the memory of his bloody face all the more satisfying,” said Jett. “You pummeled him and brought him to the ice, and I know you were a big bastard for your age, but it wasawesome.”
Harrison laughed, jerking Jett along with the movement. “Most of the blood was mine because I cut my knuckles on his broken tooth. I can’t believe you were at that game.”
“I sure was.” Jett grinned when Harrison laughed again. “Does that mean you don’t remember talking to me?”
The laughter died, and Harrison went motionless. “I spoke to you?”
Jesus Christ. Jett was about to reveal his level of fanboy to the very man he had been fanboying over. This was going to be painful.
“You scored two more goals and almost got a double Hat Trick,” said Jett, continuing the story. “We were sitting beside the runway where you guys entered the tunnel after the game, and when I waved at you walking by, you stopped and came over to bump fists with me. Dad starting talking out of his ass like he always does, and he told you that I played hockey too, and you pulled out your Hat Trick puck and tossed it over the glass. You said,your first Hat Trick is on me, kid, and then walked away.”
“That was you?!”
Harrison’s shout startled Jett so badly that he jumped.
Jett lifted his head and saw Harrison covering his eyes with his hand, his face so red he could have helped land an airplane. “Yes?”
The hand fell away, revealing Harrison’s mortified scowl. “Please tell me you didn’t have a Hat Trick under your belt by that point. Please tell me I at least looked cool, even though I was acting cringe as fuck.”
“I didn’t,” said Jett.
Harrison glared. “You goddamn liar.”
Jett shrugged, looking anywhere but at Harrison’s face to keep from laughing. “It doesn’t matter, Grumbles. I thought it was badass. I even kept the puck and begged Dad to go to your next game in Halifax to get it signed for me since I was stuck playing my own game.”
“Take me out back and shoot me.” Harrison massaged his knuckles into his temples roughly. “Do you still have it?”
Now it was Jett’s turn to flush with embarrassment.
