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He turned back to his phone, presumably to text Lily the invitation, and Jed forced himself to head back to his room to get ready to leave for practice.

The next few days passed in a rush. Vancouver, Calgary, and Edmonton all swung through Denver, the last two in back-to-back games. Jed played all three. Coach apparently didn’t think there was a need to rest him with the All-Star break coming up. Even two years ago, Jed would have been insulted if his coach had put his backup in during a three-game stretch like this. Now, though, he might have appreciated it—even if he would never admit it out loud.

Each of the games was tough in its own way. Calgary, especially, was out for blood in a way that Jed only expected from a historic rivalry, like when they played Detroit. Jed saw Remy take a high stick to the back that the refs completely missed, and that was only one of many brutal hits during the game. Remy hadn’t even wanted to hang out after that one, just muttered that he was going to take some painkillers and crash.

The Edmonton game, the last before the break, wasn’t much better. Edmonton played cleaner than Calgary, but Remy still got sent flying into one of the goal posts during the third penalty kill the Blizzards had to handle. Coach was using Remy more and more on the penalty kill, which boded well for the Blizzards offering him another contract but meant Remy was even more beat up after games. It had taken him a second to get up from his knees after colliding with the post, and Jed was concerned enough to pull him aside and ask if he needed to get looked at. Remy had shaken him off and said, “I’m not giving them the satisfaction.”

When they got home that night, Remy headed straight to his room again, so Jed did, too, because he’d reached the stage where there was no point in unwinding on the couch unless Remy was right next to him. He was lying in bed, still revved up from the game and trying not to picture Remy flying into the post, when a crash and a loud curse sent him running to the kitchen.

He found Remy standing shirtless in the dim light, head down as he leaned over and clutched the counter with both hands. Several containers of soup that Jed had made and frozen the week before were rolling around the kitchen floor.

“Jesus. Are you alright?”

“Sorry, sorry. I was trying to get out a fresh ice pack, and something got caught, and everything fell out.”

“It’s fine.”

Jed stared at the smooth skin of Remy’s back, muscles pulled tight over his shoulder blades. At the way Remy was bent over the counter, arms tense, practically begging for Jed to kiss down his spine. It was so exactly like the images that ran through his head some mornings as he pulled himself out of sleep that it made him catch his breath. Another muttered curse from Remy snapped him out of it, and he stooped to pick up the containers.

“These are like rocks. Did anything hit you?”

“One landed on my foot.”

That explained why Remy was leaning on the counter. Jed put the containers back in the freezer and then took another good look at Remy as he turned around.

“Fuck,” he swore. “Your ribs.”

Two huge bruises overlapped across the left side of Remy’s rib cage, one that almost wrapped around his side to his back and another that stretched from his pecs down to his low-slung athletic shorts. That one was clearly fresh, from when Remy had gone flying into the post that evening.

“It looks worse than it is.”

“So it hurts like hell, then?” Jed knew he was staring, but he couldn’t stop. Remy’s chest was almost as smooth as his back, and the ugly bruises couldn’t hide how solid his muscles looked.

“Pretty much. That’s why I came out for more ice packs. I didn’t get the wrap on right the first time. I thought I’d try again.”

“Let me help.” Jed held out his hand, and after a moment, Remy handed him the flexible cold wrap with straps that Jed sometimes used on his shoulder after a tough game.

Jed stepped closer. “Lift up your arms.”

Remy complied, sucking his stomach in with a hiss when Jed pressed the first pack up against his skin. Jed pulled the pack away.

“Too cold?”

“No, just took me by surprise. Go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just put it on, okay?” Remy turned his head so he was looking at their reflection in the window instead of at Jed. Jed picked up the pack again and brought it slowly, gently, to Remy’s skin.

“This okay?”

“Yes. Fine.”

Jed held the pack with one hand and reached around Remy with the other to grab the strap. Remy sucked in another breath, and Jed stepped back immediately.

“That hurt?”

“No,” Remy mumbled, starting to blush. “You know what? I can do it myself.”