“Fuck no,” said Harrison. “You’re lucky if you get an invite to my house. Fucking goalies.”
Powers laughed while Bracken smacked his goalie’s pad with his stick.
What a bunch of assholes.
“I vote for Killinger to join us in the locker room for our games,” said Wolf. “Him being here is the only thing that changed, and we’re winning. We don’t want to fuck ourselves by messing with the new routine.”
“Wolf is very superstitious,” Jett said over the agreeing voices. “You might be stuck with us.”
“We don’t have a team dog,” said Cormier. “He could apply for the job!”
Harrison flipped them off, and the signal to return lit up the room before he could properly work himself into giving a pleasant reply.
The locker room started to empty, but Jett kept them behind so they could have a second.
“Sorry, I just—” He pressed their foreheads together and took a breath. “Thank you.”
Harrison pressed a kiss to his sweaty cheek. “Thank me by sinking that puck into the net until Sébastien Blanchard starts bawling like a baby.”
Jett
They won. They fucking won.
7-4 was the final score, and although Blanchard didn’t cry, he was so mad by the end of the game that they could hear him cursing over the booing crowd.
Jett was filled with nervous energy and excitement. He hurried through his cool down and post-game shower, his mind still not comprehending that Harrison was out there waiting for him to get dressed and leave.
“I told Killinger what hotel we’re staying at,” said Ryan from the shower stall next to his. “I offered to pay for his room before he got here, but he told me to fuck off and hung up, so I let him handle it.”
Jett sniggered and shoved his head under the water to rinse the shampoo from his hair. That sounded like Harrison, alright.
“I would ask if you guys are joining us for celebration drinks, but I already know the answer.”
Yeah, that wasn’t happening. The only plan Jett had tonight was following Harrison to his hotel room, asking him to be his boyfriend, and then ending the night with mind-blowing sex before he passed out for a few hours.
“After our home game win, we’ll come out,” said Jett. “But I’m tired, and Harrison is probably jet-lagged. I think we’re going to call it an early night.”
Jett wiped the water out of his eyes and shut the water off, turning around to look for his towel. He hollered when he saw Ryan standing at the front of his stall naked, with his arms crossed defensively over his chest.
“Dude, what the actual fuck?”
“You know to use protection, right?”
“Really?!” Jett hissed. “Not that it’s any of your business, Bracken, but I’m on Prep and Harrison hasn’t left his house in five years. I think we’re good, dipshit.”
Ryan grinned. “I was just joking, but I’m glad to hear that you’re taking your sexual health so seriously. Also, I wasn’t aware that inhabiting the woods counted as a safe sex method.”
Jett grabbed his towel, holding it like he was about to use it as a weapon, and Ryan took off, nearly slipping on the floor in his escape. He shook his head as he listened to Jason laugh at their mutual friend for being an idiot, smiling at how dumb they both were.
Normally, he would wait for the team to finish so he could walk out with them, but Jett knew they would understand if he snuck out. He hurried back to the locker room and got dressed, shoving stuff into his bag, with no thought to organization, and left.
Harrison was waiting for him in the hall, scowling and glaring at the media crew doing post-game interviews nearby.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jett said, breathless and grinning. It wassomuch easier to read Harrison’s expression without the beard. He stared at Jett and snorted a laugh, holding out his hand.
“I got a rental car. No offence to your team, but I’m not taking a shuttle back to the hotel with them.”
“Ourteam,” Jett corrected, walking over to take Harrison’s hand and jab a finger into his chest with his free one, right in the center of the sun emblem on his jersey. “Stop trying to keep yourself separate from this. I swear, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
