Is this what I have to look forward to?
Practice is anything but fluid. Guys are missing easy passes, letting in goals that Nick would have stopped in his sleep, and making mistakes that any opposing team would take advantage of.
Fuck.
As the morning skate ends and I head back toward the visitors’ locker room, at least one thing that feels familiar greets me that wasn’t there earlier.
My jersey.
Fields is emblazoned in bright red on the back of the white jersey. A pair of crossed hockey sticks to look like swords for the Knights sits above the four that is stitched on the back.
At least I got to keep the same number. I don’t know if I could ever give that up. My dad’s old number from his playing days. I’ve nevernotplayed with this number. My own good luck charm of sorts.
While everything is changing, one thing hasn’t. One thing is still familiar, even if I have a new teamandnew colors.
At least something doesn’t suck today.
Chapter One
GRAHAM
“How you feeling, Flounder?” Jasper asks from his spot next to me on the bench. “All good?”
I jab my elbow into his side. “All good. We’re not all old men in the league.”
“Fuck you. I’m only thirty-four.”
“Ancient in hockey years,” Bode calls out from the other side of the locker room. “We’ll be pushing you off the ice before we know it.”
“Stop making fun of Jasper because he’s old. You’ll be lucky if you’re playing in the league that long.” Marcus rolls his eyes at us. Grabbing his stick and helmet, he leaves the locker room without giving us a backward glance.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Dax mutters.
“Or one of the girls is sick,” I correct him.
“I can’t imagine raising twin girls.” Jasper shudders. “Do not sign me up for that.”
“You’d first have to find someone that likes you enough to want to have kids,” Bode prods at him.
“Do you think I could ask for a trade? I bet guys on other teams don’t have to deal with this shit,” Jasper grumbles to himself.
“Aww. But then you’d miss us,” I tell him.
Jasper rolls his eyes at me as he grabs his helmet and heads out to the ice for our first practice of the season.
“Hey guys.”
I track the voice of the new guy as he walks into the locker room.
Noah Fields. One of the Knights’ newest players. Even though the team traded for him last season, he didn’t get that much playing time.
It’s weird seeing him in our locker room. The red walls and floor with the Knights logo seemingly clash with him. The sleek, black lockers cut the brightness, but it still seems like Noah is seeking the attention of every man in the room.
I hate it.
Even still, he thinks he’s God’s gift to hockey.
The way he skates.
