Niko’s tanned skin flushed, and the expression he wore earned them a few side-eyed glances from their nosy teammates.
“That’s not—”
“He’s right,” said August. He raked his hand through his hair and sighed. “I don’t mean to, but if you can’t tell, I don’t make friends easily.”
Niko didn’t say anything at first. They looked at each other, but for once, it wasn’t an uncomfortable pause. Something in Niko’s body language was telling him that heunderstoodand wasn’t judging him.
“I want to be on friendly terms with you,” August admitted. “I just…don’t know how.”
And there it was, the cold, hard, frustratingly accurate truth. August had never had anything real, not once in his goddamn life. Everything, no matter what it was or who it was, had always been taken from him or left him. What was the point of building a relationship with Niko if he would disappear too?
The energy in the room had shifted, just by an inch. August grimaced and kept his eyes on Niko, not wanting to look up and see all the pitiful faces of his teammates watching.
“We worked well during training camp,” said Niko, nudging August with his elbow. “Comeplayhockey with me, buddy. Do you know how fun it is to knock the smirk off Sébastien’s sexy face? He’llhateit.”
August grinned through the awkwardness because, yeah, that sounded fun. It sounded more fun than his mopey inner monologue that never left him alone for more than five seconds.
“I’ll get you the puck,” August promised. “And you put it in the net.”
Niko grinned and held his fist up, bumping it with August’s. “And you need to use your giant self to block tiny Rocket Blanchard. He’s getting old now, so it should be easy to cut him off.”
August scoffed. “That guy was old ten years ago. I’m surprised his knees haven’t given out.”
When Niko laughed, August felt like an idiot. Had he known that chirping Blanchard was the key to relieving the tension between them, he would have done it the second Niko stepped off the plane.
A gloved hand slapped onto his head, knocking a surprised cry from him. August shot a glare at his attacker, who happened to be his captain.
“I knew you had it in you, Gusty.” Callahan roughly shook August’s head, nearly knocking his water bottle off the bench when the roughhousing made him sway suddenly. “Let’s go play a good game, fellas!”
The room erupted into cheers, and although August still felt on the outs with the men sitting around him, he felt more tethered to his purpose than he had that morning.
While excited conversations carried on, August leaned toward Niko so he could speak without being overheard. “Are the Sunburst guys all as nice as you, or is that just the rumour?”
Niko tensed, and August could tell there was a lot of homesickness around the topic.
“If you showed up in the Sunburst’s locker room with that scowl on your face, Wolfy would have put you in a headlock until you promised to make friendship bracelets with him, and Bracken would have assigned Jett to you to take care of the rest. One smile from him and you would be a goner.”
August hummed, stopping to shove Callahan away before he moved too close again. “He’s really that nice?”
Now it was Niko’s turn to scoff.
“Have you seen Harrison Killinger? Does he strike you as someone who smiles often?”
August thought about the Sunburst’s coach, who had the worst case of resting bitch face he had ever seen. He didn’t think the guy wascapableof smiling until Fraser hoisted the cup in the air and looked for him on the bench.
“Point taken.”
Niko gave a curt nod. “Right?”
Coach came into the room looking grim, and all the chatter died.
“We shoot puck. We win game, yes?”
It wasn’t winning any awards as far as motivational speeches were concerned, but the Bigfoots were a simple team with a simple group of guys. They cheered and made quick final gear checks before they lined up in the halls for the puck drop.
Calgary fans were loud and angry. They didn’t appreciate the Vancouver team during any part of the season, even in these early games.
In August’s opinion, they would have less to complain about if anyone on their roster were hard to play against, other than Blanchard. For the Bigfoots, the Colts were an easy team to beat and an excellent opportunity to refine some of their new players.
