A sharp tap to August’s shoulder from Coach told him he was going, but he was confused when Coach barkedCallahan’s lineat him.
He was switching lines?
August didn’t know what Fedorov was thinking putting him with Niko and Callahan, but it wasn’t his place to question.
Fraser’s shot rang off the pipes, and the crowd cheered as the Bigfoots took possession of the puck. The Sunburst team retreated into their zone, but when Fraser saw August hop the wall for the line change, he stayed out.
Callahan took the puck behind the net and whipped around, charging center ice with Niko on his left and August on his right. Fraser was on Niko before Callahan passed him the puck, but he was already a minute into his shift, and his movements looked slow when matched against Niko.
Niko’s cut through the Sunburst team was so smooth that had August blinked, he would have missed it. Wolf caught Niko at the net and forced him to bank around in a flash of steel and spraying ice, and because he knew Niko, August made sure he was waiting on the goalie’s open side.
August wentto one knee when Niko spotted him, and the puck rocketed through the tangle of bodies in front of the Sunburst net. Rubber hit tape, slapping off his stick with a loud clap and bypassing Callahan, who was grappling with another Sunburst defenceman near the edge of the crease.
The horn blasted, lights flashed, and August had just enough time to steady himself on two legs when three of his teammates crashed into him.
“Holy shit!” Niko punched August’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. “Dude! What the fuck?!”
August grinned, but the celebration was short-lived when the cheering crowd turned angry, and he looked over Niko’s head to see Callahan getting shoved around by the Sunburst goalie and a few players.
And because that was their fucking captain, the four of them rushed the net and joined the scrum, ignoring whistles and the grabbing hands of the linesmen.
Niko may have been a Sunburst once, but the kid had a fuckingtemperand no patience for bullies. Detlef Wolf, a notoriously scrappy defenceman for the Sunbursts, turned on Niko the second his gloves were off, not moving fast enough to dodge a punch aimed for his face.
Surprisingly, Fraser was there to back Wolf up, but August put a stop to any plans of retaliation by wrapping an arm around his neck, knocking the helmet clean off Fraser’s curly blond hair.
“Motherfucker!” Fraser kicked his feet and tried to pry August’s arm away, but the strength difference between them was too vast. “Fucking Frosty the Snowman sonofabitch!”
August laughed because Fraser was hilarious when he was angry, and his foul mouth was something he was well-acquainted with.
The fight was dying down, and the players were being separated, but Niko was still throwing punches at Wolf despite Callahan’s attempts to pull him back. Wolf spat a mouthful of blood onto the ice, and his obnoxious laughter carried over the hundreds of people cheering and smashing the glass, further spurring Niko on.
“Tell your fucking goalie to open his eyes and stop being a baby!” The defenceman on August’s team shouted, lunging for Bracken like the dumbass he was.
And that was all the reason Bracken needed to drop his gloves and start a new round of fist fighting.
August sighed as the whistles continued to blow, and the roar of the fans grew so loud that the walls started shaking.
“Okay—” Fraser slapped his arm. “Can we—fucking hold hands or something? The only person I like to be choked by is my husband.”
Right. Husband. Fraser wasn’t Fraser; he was Killinger.
Naw.
Deciding to play nice, August loosened his grip around Fraser’s neck and took hold of his wrist as requested. They probably looked dumb as fuck standing there holding hands, watching the chaos unfold, but August couldn’t risk a fight.
He was aware of his size and strength, and he had no intent to put anyone in the hospital tonight. Besides, someone would have to play hockey for their team once the dust cleared.
“Fucking ruffian,” Jett rasped. “You know Harrison is going to kick your ass for hurting me.”
August was shaking in his skates.
“Harrison should have married a tennis player if he didn’t want to see his guy get hurt.”
Fraser’s gasp was loud enough to draw the attention of the nearest linesman, who stopped to check that they weren’t fighting before returning to end the current one.
“Wanna grab a drink after the game?” Jett asked, brushing off August’s comment like he hadn’t been offended in the slightest. “Neeks said he was coming, but he told me you might not be in the mood.”
The fight finally settled enough for the aggressors to be separated, and August took the moment of reorganization to think of his answer. He would like to hang out with Fraser, but he wasn’t really…in the best mindset.
