“Shut the fuck up, Tucker!” Graham seethed. “You don’tknowhim.”
“I know histype (no. Loserscumbagswho’ll probably be back behind bars in a couple years.” Bobby rolled his eyes.
Red filled Graham’s vision, and he lunged forward with a roar, a fraction of a second after Connor got a grip on Tucker’s suit jacket and shook him. Shouts rose up, guys piling in, and Graham shoved forward, fighting to get to Bobby in the middle of the melee.
Graham finally got through the mess and drew back his arm, ready to land a punch in the middle of Bobby’s stupid fucking face when his wrist was caught in a tight grip.
“No fuckin’ way,” Crawford said in his ear. “You’re not a fighter, Pennington, and you’ll end up breaking some bones. We can’t afford that shit.”
In a movement almost too fast for Graham to even register, Crawford shoved Graham out of the way, pulled back, and landed a punch squarely on Bobby Tucker’s nose.
The spurt of blood and howl of outrage seemed almost simultaneous and there was an audible gasp from around the room as he staggered back, barely catching himself before he landed on the floor.
“Dude!” Tucker said thickly. “What thefuck, Crawford? What was that for?”
He got to his feet and swiped a towel off a nearby cart, pressing it to his face.
“You had that coming,” Crawford said grimly, shaking out his hand. “Should’ve known you had a hard head though, you asshole.”
“What the fuck did I do?” Bobby protested, his nose already stuffed up.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Crawford drawled. “Maybe acted like an asshole to my fucking teammate and his boyfriend?”
Bobby scoffed and lowered his bloodstained towel. “Yeah, like you’re so fucking happy being in a locker room with all of these?—”
This time, it was Connor who stopped him, finally getting a grip on his suit jacket.
“You shut the fuck up right now or I will throw you out by the scruff of your goddamn neck.” His voice was low and furious. “This ismylocker room. I didn’t like you when you were in it and I like you even less now. Get out and don’t come in here again. If anyone on the team wants to stay friends with you, that’stheirfucking business but you can do it outside of my locker room, you hear me?”
He glanced around the room, glaring at every guy still in there.
“And ifanyoneagrees with Bobby, ifanyonehas a problem with those of us who are dating guys, I want you out of here too. You can march your ass to the GM’s office and tell him why you aren’t happy here. Becausetrust me, Gavin will be happy to find guys eager and willing to play for this team if you aren’t.”
No one moved a muscle.
“Good.” Connor spun Bobby around and grabbed him by the shoulder. He nodded at Crawford who got him by the other arm. They marched a protesting Bobby out and shoved him unceremoniously into the hall.
“Andstay out,” Connor roared before turning and stalking back inside the locker room, Crawford on his heels.
The doors didn’t slam closed because they were the automatic kind, but as they clicked shut behind them, there was a finality to it that seemed to reverberate through the locker room.
Rusty—the equipment guy—mutely handed over an icepack to Crawford who took it with an appreciative nod, hissing as he applied it to his hand.
“You okay?” someone asked, and Graham was confused when he realized it was Thad talking to him. Apparently, he’d slipped in while the doors were open.
“I’m fine. Jesus. How areyou? Did you?—”
“I didn’t hear most of it,” Thad said with a sigh. “But I got the gist. I appreciate you sticking up for me, baby, but Crawford isright. Those hands are way too valuable to this team to have you fighting.”
Crawford held out his unbruised hand toward Thad for knuckle bumps. Thad responded without ever looking away from Graham’s face.
“I can stand up for you too, you know?” Graham protested. “You don’t always have to be the one throwing yourself into the fray to protect other people. You can let the people who care about you stick up foryousometimes.”
“I get what you’re saying. And I mostly agree. Just … try to use yourwords, not your fists next time, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Graham said with a scowl.
Lifting Graham’s hand to his mouth, Thad gave him a crooked smile, then pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Look, I’m not in a position where I can ever get a Cup for myself. Butyoucan. So how about you protect the moneymakers forthatreason? Do it for your team and what you can help lead them toward.”
