Jett felt Harrison’s gaze drag over his bare chest slowly, making him shiver.
“I said a lot of things last night,” said Harrison, smirking. “But they were mostly about you.”
“Harrison—”
Harrison sighed and brushed his hair out of his face. “Your coach offered me a position on the team. I’ll be a consultant behind the bench for now, but he said there’s room for promotions in the future.”
“Are you serious?” Jett tackled Harrison to the bed with a hug, peppering his collarbones with kisses. “Do you know how awesome that is? You’ll be right next to me for every game.”
Harrison’s hand fell onto the back of his neck, scruffing him gently the way he liked. “Awesome, yes, but you have to remember not to get distracted during games, or I won’t be able to work with you. I refuse to let myself get in your way, especially since this year is the year you’re bringing the cup home.”
“No distraction, I promise,” said Jett. “Honestly, when I’m in game-mode, there’s not much that can take me out of it. I think we’ll be fine.”
“Good boy,” said Harrison, his fingers tugging playfully on the small curls on the back of his neck. “And I don’t want to curse myself by admitting that Bracken is right, but we should get going before we’re late to practice.”
Jett was less cranky about life now that he knew Harrison was coming with him and would be participating in his career. He hadn’t felt comfortable plopping Harrison next to the WAGS to watch with the rest of the fans. Blood would be spilled for sure.
He and Harrison returned to his bedroom to shower and get dressed. He was sad when Harrison traded in his jersey for a fitted, long-sleeved shirt, but he understood why. Jett thought about wearing the jersey himself, but it was a size too big for the change not to be noticeable.
Jett grabbed his to-go bag on the way out the door, and they rode the elevator down to the parking garage, both still too tired to attempt any form of communication.
Ryan was standing next to his car, a sleek four-door BMW, texting someone with a serious expression. He looked up when he heard them coming, showing a bright smile.
“You guys appear more put-together than you were thirty minutes ago.”
“Fuck off,” said Harrison. He moved Ryan out of the way to get to the passenger side door and let himself in.
Jett opened his trunk to throw his bag in, but also so he could hide his laugh at Ryan’s shocked expression.
Ryan was nice about getting in the back without fussing like he normally did. Jett would have felt bad for his captain any other time, but the guy could be overbearing, and he would have to learn how to calm down if he wanted to be invited over anytime soon.
“Did you give Max back his keycard?” Jett asked once he backed out of his parking spot and headed for the garage door. “You know he comes over to hang out with me after games, right?”
“I gave it back. I wouldn’t want to deny my baby brother anything, even if it means he’ll be in the same room as Killinger.”
Harrison glanced at Jett, but Jett shook his head. They didn’t have enough time to havethisconversation, that was for damn sure.
“Jason remembered to bring me a change of clothes, thank fuck,” said Ryan, letting out a sigh. “I love that guy. He’s such a good work husband.”
Harrison glanced at Jett again, and Jett again shook his head. They didn’t have time to openthatcan of worms either.
The city traffic was steady but bearable. It was Saturday morning, so most people were sleeping or working off their hangovers. Sunburst banners were all over the billboards, becoming more numerous the closer they got to the arena. Tonight was their opening game, so Jett knew it wouldn’t be long before the streets were filled with screaming fans and entertainment leading up to the puck drop.
Their practice rink was in another part of the city, a ten-minute drive from the arena where their game would be held later. Jett parked his car in the team parking lot next to Jason’s ridiculous red sports car, nearly hitting their goalie when he ran over to greet them before the vehicle stopped moving.
“Coach wants us to hurry and eat breakfast,” said Jason, swinging an arm over Ryan’s shoulders for a hug. “And someone picked up your drinks, Jett. The blue ones that taste like watery cool-aid.”
“They do not,” said Jett. “But I guess everything would taste watered down for you with all the Dr. Pepper you drink.”
“One bottle a day is not unhealthy,” said Jason. “It has the word doctor in the title. There’s no way it’s bad for you.”
Harrison stepped out of the car and looked down at Jason, head tilting slightly as he studied him with quiet curiosity.
Jason, who was not tall, backed away with his arm still around Ryan’s shoulders. “Dude, you are so fucking intimidating. How do you get your face like that?”
When Harrison turned his blank expression toward Jett, he laughed.
“Fucking goalies,” Harrison muttered. “Don’t you have food to eat that requires you to be anywhere except near me?”
