Then it was Jake’s turn to step forward and address them, and while RileyknewJake could speak confidently in front of strangers because he’d been doing it during meetings for years, he was unprepared for how easy it looked for him.
Gone was his quiet and soft-spoken best friend—replaced by a handsome man in a tailored suit who gave off vibes that screamed professional NHL General Manager.
Jake had addressed the team multiple times in the locker room before today, but that was a space that Riley was used to sharing with him. They had been playing hockey together for so long that seeing him casually dressed in a room full of other hockey players hadn’t struck him as odd.
But seeing Jake on the ice, not in skates, but in expensive shoes planted on a nonslip mat, was different. Seeing his hair brushed and styled instead of sweat-damp and tangled was different. Seeing him with a watch and rings on his fingers instead of bruises and tape was different too.
Riley had somehow missed the moment where Jake had grown up, and the realization was now hitting him like a puck to the face.
“Tomorrow is a huge day for Citadel fans, this city, and this team,” said Jake. “I want to wish you all the best of luck out there, and know that I’ll be supporting you from the stands.”
There was a clamour of sticks tapping the ice in appreciative agreement, and Jake met Riley’s gaze, his dark brows pinching in a way that told Riley he was concerned for him.
Riley subtly shook his head and looked away before his face caught on fire, giving a hard nudge to Kingston to distract himself.
“Fuck off,” Kingston growled, narrowing those pretty blue eyes of his. “Why are you pestering me when you’re as white as a goddamn ghost? Is your stomach upset? Are you trying not to shit yourself right now?”
Snickering from Carr’s direction suggested they had been overheard, even with conversations starting up around them. Now that the speeches were over, they were free to disperse and get off the ice, but most of their teammates were hanging back to chat and discuss the upcoming game.
Jake was leaving with his father, and Allen wasn’t watching them from behind the glass, so Riley didn’t feel bad when hegrabbed Kingston in a chokehold, knocking his helmet from his head.
“Oh, there they go,” one of the guys said. Riley didn’t know who because Kingston was fighting and spinning them around, making it difficult to decipher anything beyond the blur and cursing.
“Ten bucks on Sloan.”
“Thirty bucks on Sloan.”
“Does anyone even think Evans can win?”
“Screw you guys,” Riley panted, but they weren’t wrong because Kingston was already wiggling free and trying to stomp on his foot, which kept throwing him off-balance.
And when Kingston inevitably took himgentlyto the ice and pulled off a crazy maneuver to pin him, Riley resigned himself to his fate of never being able to win a verbal or physical argument with his men ever.
“Does that mean we should all throw the bet money into a pot and go out for dinner?” Banner asked, grinning as he leaned over Riley. “I know a great place in the area, so we wouldn’t have to go far.”
“Can’t,” said Kingston. “We have dinner with the GM scheduled tonight. Can’t miss out.”
Rory Calderon, a handsome redhead with an infectious smile, scoffed as he skated next to Carr and shoved him playfully. “The perks of being friends with the GM, eh? Sloan and Evans are going to get all the special treatment while we just stand around and look pretty.”
Kingston shrugged and released his hold on Riley, standing carefully to make sure he didn’t lose his footing and crash back onto him. “The only special treatment I get is him kicking my ass in video games and the joy of watching him collect shiny things like a magpie.”
Riley laughed because Kingston wasn’t lying, but neither of them could say that other perks included kissing their GM, mutual handjobs, and fucking his fiancée.
The Citadel guys were a good group, and they hadn’t batted an eye when Riley and Kingston told them they were dating, but the poly talk would have to come later because Riley didn’t feel like jinxing the energy of the team when they were vibing so well.
Carr and Banner helped pull him onto his skates since Kingston was too busy yapping with Calderon, and Riley thanked them, smirking when they shot grumpy looks at Kingston’s back.
“He’s not the most caring boyfriend,” Banner said, bumping shoulders with Riley and whispering like Kingston’s behaviour was supposed to be a secret. “He’s so rough with you.”
Riley chuckled and said nothing. Everyone could think what they wanted, but they didn’t see Kingston during his soft moments, or his smiles when Riley did something to make him laugh.
“Come on,” Kingston said, slinging an arm around Riley. “Let’s shower and get the fuck out of here. Jake said he was making pasta tonight, and you know how I feel about pasta.”
Kingston led the small charge into the locker room with Riley in tow, filling the space with chatter like he always did, and making some of the guys groan when he said something too vulgar.
The Citadel staff were working in full swing now, putting gloves on the drying rack, organizing sticks, and handing out water bottles as they made sure everything stayed coordinated and ready to move.
Riley’s mind drifted into a familiar buzz as he stripped out of his gear and hit the showers. The heat of the water on his strained muscles felt fantastic, but he was still sore.
