Coach grabs another of our players so I can take his place, and I jump back in to keep the Saints from scoring. It’s grueling, thankless work, but at least they stay away from Rhodes as we play. The horn blares as the clock finally runs out, and I groan.
Damn, am I happy that’s over. We won by a landslide, but that doesn’t mean I’m not sore as fuck. We all line up to do the sportsmanship-like thing to reassure the Saints we played a good game, though not because we mean it. They were complete dicks wearing little hats for helmets.
I’m unsurprised when the Saints refuse to line up and skate off the ice, and Richards mutters a curse under his breath.
“It’s not worth it. Rhodes already had his shot at them. I can’t tell you the last time he lost his shit and left his crease,” I say as we skate off the ice and toward the lockers.
None of us are in the mood to go the long way tonight. We’re all toast.
“Well, they broke the rules and wouldn’t leave our captain alone,” Richards grunts. “That sounds like reason enough to get your ass beat.”
It’s very amusing to me that the team simply takes it as law that Rhodes and I are courting Koen. There’s been no discussion about it outside of the one I had with Coach the afternoon that Fishman destroyed Koen’s apartment.
Now, everyone is pushing us together more and more often, and it’s definitely helping us. I just need Koen to get off his fucking scent blockers so that he can realize he’s fighting against fate.
I have to admit it’s kind of fun that he doesn't know. I’m enjoying wearing down his resistance to us.
The PT assistant calls me over the second my covers slide over my skates as I walk into our area, and I strip off my clothes, pads, and skates to get into an ice bath.
“Fuck, this sucks,” I groan, my face a mask of annoyance. My muscles hurt so fucking much. Damn Saints. I hope they’re worse off than I am.
“You good, Sky?” Rhodes calls out, poking his head out of the locker room.
“Peachy,” I mutter. “I’ll be alright. I just need to ice the giant bruise I like to call my body.”
“Poor Daddy,” Rhodes says with a wince.
“Cover your dicks! Koen and Rhodes, I need you out of here in ten to speak to the press,” Edna calls into the locker room.
“Why me?” Rhodes asks, beginning to get undressed.
“You know what you did,” the PR manager says simply. “Koen, the suit I bought you should fit. You need to go shopping tomorrow for new clothes.”
“Ugh, I do. Thanks, Edna,” Koen calls out from the showers.
My eyes close as I drift, and my muscles slowly begin to go numb from the cold. Knowing Rhodes and Koen are naked in the showers together does nothing for my raging erection though.
“Don’t fall asleep, big guy,” the PT assistant tells me a while later.
Ugh, too fucking late.
“Up you go,” he says. “We need to work on your shoulders and hips or you’re going to be worse tomorrow.”
“Ugh, let me die,” I complain theatrically, forcing myself to move. The skin beneath my eyes begins to twitch from exhaustion, but I know he’s right.
The massage therapist takes over as I lay on the table, and I shut my eyes as I block out the pain. It fucking hurts as he warmsup the muscles after the ice box, and I know he regularly has brought several of my teammates to tears. I’m not saying he’s not really good at his job, but goddamn is he rough.
“Alright, I managed to release tension in a few places. You’ll still be sore,” he says.
“I figured,” I groan, sitting up.
Most of the team is gone as I walk gingerly to the showers. I can hear the rest of our support team clear out as I wash my body, and I’m glad I’m alone now. I allow myself to make as much noise as I need to in the shower, and decide I’m glad the main bedroom has an attached bathroom with a jetted bathtub. I’m going to fucking need to load that bitch up with Epsom salt and hope I won’t drown in it.
My towel is loosely around my hips as I leave the showers, and my brow raises as I see Koen and Rhodes waiting for me.
“How was the press?” I ask, dropping my towel as I walk toward my cubby.
“Fine. They wanted to congratulate Koen and I for the game, though you’re more to thank than I am,” Rhodes grumbles.
