“About time, bro. I was starting to think you were bailing on me. Hurry up, I need a spotter!” Matt shouts the minute I walk inside the busy training room.
The Saints logo is painted on the far wall, surrounded by framed pictures of every championship team. A hunger builds inside of me when I imagine our team photo hanging up there.
“Dude, there are four other guys here that can spot you. Don’t be needy,” Braden says, brushing past me. He drops his bag against a nearby wall, not bothering to shove it inside his locker.
I follow suit but make sure to grab my water bottle from the side pouch. Reaching behind my head, I tug my shirt off and toss it on top of my bag before setting my bottle on the ground and joining Matt at the weight bench.
There are two seventy-pound weights set on his bar, one on each side. I hover my hands beneath it and say, “Come on, then. Let’s see how many reps you got in you.”
The guy grins up at me before moving into action. He completes thirteen reps before I notice his arms giving out and take the bar from him, setting it back in its place on the rack above him.
“Not bad,” Braden notes. He’s jumping rope at a pace that makes me wince. His boxing experience makes him one hell of an athlete, hockey aside.
Matt scoffs and sits. He uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his forehead.
“You stretch before starting that shit?” he asks him.
Braden rolls his eyes. “What’s with you guys and your worrying lately?”
“Take it as a compliment, asshole,” I throw back.
A gruff laugh comes from the back of the gym before Tyler and Adam come sauntering over from the row of treadmills, both dripping with sweat and breathing heavily.
“What’s so funny?” Matt asks.
Tyler throws Adam an annoyed look. “Fuck face over here thinks he has a chance of outscoring me next game.”
I cock a brow. Braden snorts. “Not gonna happen.”
“Come on, man. What happened to loyalty?” Adam places his hands on his hips.
“If you’re so sure you’ll win,” Braden starts with a smirk, “why wait until Wednesday? We can easily take it to the practice rink after training.”
Tyler shrugs. “Works for me. I’m not worried.”
“Me neither,” Adam says adamantly.
“Let’s make it happen.” Matt claps his hands on his thighs. “But nobody is leaving this gym until your shit is done. So get to it.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Braden snickers. He tosses his jump rope back on its hook before moving to the bench Matt is occupying. “Get up and let me show you how it’s really done.”
Matt’s eyes light up with the challenge, and he stands from the bench with an easy-going smile. “It’s all yours.”
Braden slips both weights off the bar before replacing them. I shouldn’t be surprised that he can so confidently bench-press a hundred and eighty pounds, but I am. The guy could probably bench me if given the chance.
“You’re a cocky asshole,” Matt grumbles, his arms crossed. “I can’t wait to save each one of your shots after this.”
I clap a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Matty boy. The guy is a behemoth.”
“Can say that again,” Tyler grunts.
There’s a warm feeling that spreads through my chest as I watch the ego show. These guys are ridiculous, but I think I like them that way.
I’m the first one on the ice, my skates laced, stick quickly taped, and my Warriors practice jersey on. Everyone but Matt skipped the bulky gear, promising to keep it a clean game, and I can only hope that that stays true. We would never hear the end of it if one of us got injured playing shinny.
I slip my left glove on and flex my grip on my stick, smacking it on the ice a few times. Tyler comes onto the ice next, his strides elegant and confident. He nods for me to join him along the boards, and we do one lap around the rink before Adam and Braden join us for a second.
With a smirk, I spin around and face the two stragglers, keeping my speed as I go backward. I fake a yawn, and Braden rolls his eyes.
“Shut it, twinkle toes,” he says before picking up his pace and flanking my left side. In a quick movement, he’s flipping around and moving backward.
Soon enough, all four of us are skating backward, looks of determination on our faces as we race each other, seeing who can go fastest.
“If you ladies are done, I’m ready for you!” Matt shouts from the far end of the rink. He’s leaning back against the goalie net, his helmet pushed up and away from his face.
There is a pile of pucks waiting on the centre line, and Adam is the first to come to a stop and scoop one toward him with his stick. He passes it back and forth to himself before turning to Tyler.
“Who goes first?”
Tyler lifts his stick and moves it between Adam and Matt. “Go for it, pretty boy.”
Not needing to be told twice, Adam readies himself and takes off toward Matt. He passes the puck between his legs a few times to show off before opting for a simple wrist shot that hits Matt’s shoulder before hitting the post with a loud ting.
“Boo! You suck!” Braden hollers.
Adam’s grinning when he comes to a stop beside me. He only shrugs and nods to Tyler. “I was warming up.”
The defenseman sniffs and mumbles a gruff “Right” before picking a puck and skating toward Matt.
Tyler doesn’t try any fancy moves; he just stops at the blue line and winds back before making a slapshot that has me wincing from the sound of it alone. The puck slices through the air and over Matt’s right shoulder before it’s caught in the net.
“That’s it!” I shout, smacking my stick on the ice to mimic a clapping noise as Tyler glides around the back of the net and throws his up in the air.
“Hey!” Adam says. “Don’t pick sides. You’ll hurt my feelings.”
I chuckle. “My bad.”
With a new look of determination, Adam collects another puck from the pile and rushes at Matt for a second time. Matt moves just outside of his crease, his eyes trained on Adam and the puck as they get closer and closer.
Adam slows right down and starts playing with the puck like a little shit, shifting it side to side in front of him. Braden starts laughing beside me, and I join in without a second thought. It’s when Matt gives his head a shake that Adam takes his shot. The puck slips between Matt’s legs, into the net.
With the score tied at one each, the two guys take turns shooting and scoring, until Tyler misses two shots in a row, and Adam doesn’t miss again.
Tyler’s scowl is intense when he reaches me and Braden, but I like to think that I’ve grown to know him well enough to tell he’s not really all that upset by the loss.
Braden doesn’t hesitate to poke fun at him. “Maybe I need a new linemate, Ty.”
“What you need is a working brain and to deflate your damn ego,” Tyler replies.
“Ooh, burn,” Adam snickers, joining us. His smile is so wide I’m surprised his cheeks haven’t split.
Matt is sliding his helmet up and over his face when he reaches us. He looks at Tyler. “Not bad. You still favour your backhand too much.”
“That’s not technically a bad thing,” I say. “I know that I use too many wrist shots. It’s all comfort. You only know what we tend to use most because you train with us nearly every day. The other goalies might know what we favour, but there’s no way to be able to predict the same shot each time.”
Matt nods. “True enough.”
Tyler shoots me an appreciative look, and I shrug. A player’s confidence is everything. The last thing we need is to risk that over something as harmless as a shooting competition.
“What do you say we play a quick 2V2? I call teaming with Oakley,” Braden says, staring at me. I grin in agreement.
“Okay, I can be down for that. But I want something if we win,” I say as a lightbulb goes off in my head.
“When we win,” Braden corrects me.
Matt laughs. “Okay, big shot. What do you want if you win?”
“I want you to tell me more about Ava.”
Adam sucks in a sharp breath, but I ignore him, keeping my eyes trained on the goalie that’s now scowling at me.
“Any reason why that’s what you want as a prize?” he asks tightly. I already knew he was protective of Ava, seeing as she’s his girl’s best friend, so I was expecting this.
“Call me curious,” I reply, careful not to give too much away. In all honesty, I don’t have a real reason as to why I feel so inclined to learn more about her. I just do.
“Bro, you could have just asked me. I would have told you everything I know for free,” Braden says with a laugh.
“And that would have been a waste of time, considering you know nothing,” Tyler quips.
Braden says something in defense of himself, but I’m not listening anymore. I’m too focused on the harsh way Matt is watching me, almost like he’s trying to dig a hole inside my head with his eyes and take whatever answers he wants himself.
“Fine,” he says a breath later. His stare breaks. “Three questions. That’s it.”
I nod. “Deal.”
We move quickly to clear the extra pucks out of the way, leaving one behind on the centreline. Adam and Tyler move to the two face-off zones on the opposite sides of the net while Braden and I get ready to attack.
Matt shouts to begin, and I scoop the puck before taking off. Tyler barrels right for me while Adam goes for Braden. I can’t help but laugh at the scowl on Tyler’s face when I shoot off the puck to Braden and evade him with a spin.
The puck hits Braden’s stick with a clap before he’s shoving Adam out of the way and closing the distance between us and Matt. As soon as we reach the blue line, Braden passes me the puck, and I wind back before sending it top shelf.
“Fuck yeah!” Braden shouts. He rushes toward me and slaps me on the back.
Matt collects the puck and passes it off to Tyler. The four of us change sides, and we go again, this time with Braden and me playing defense.
I’m not surprised when Adam scores. He’s an incredibly sharp shooter, especially under pressure. I’m even less surprised when each side continues to score until finally, Adam misses a shot and hands my side the win.
It’s not until we’re all back in the locker room and I finish unlacing my skates when Matt flops down beside me.
“Three questions.”
“Here?” I look at Adam cautiously from where he sits onto the bench opposite us.
Matt makes a rough sound in his throat. “Ignore him. He’s been massively friend zoned.”
I drop my voice. “Has he? ’Cause the guy watches her with damn hearts in his eyes.”
“Is that one of your questions?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He laughs but has the decency to lower his voice as he says, “Infinite best friend status. I don’t even think she knows he’s into her.”
I try to pretend like that doesn’t help settle me. It shouldn’t. If she wants to date the guy, she should.
“Who’s the ex?”
“A hockey player.”
I sigh heavily. “Not good enough. Is it someone on the team?”
Matt slants me a pointed look. “Last question. Are you sure you wanna use it on that?”
“Yeah, fuck. Whatever. Just tell me.”
“David Remer. Third-line right wing,” he says.
I blink slowly and then grimace. “The guy who was just bragging at practice about getting his dick sucked behind the rink after last game?”
“The very one.”
“Seems he loves having his dick sucked,” I grunt.
“You know about that?” Matt asks, his eyes wide.
“Yeah. It’s a long story.”
“Don’t care. Tell me.”
I crack my knuckles, nerves buzzing beneath my skin. “The party that Remer cheated on her at? Yeah, that was my going-away party before I moved out here. I met Ava in the backyard that night.”
Matt makes a weird noise. “No shit.”
Braden drops on the bench on my other side and gives my face a questionable look. “You talking about Remer? I would know that expression anywhere.” When I nod, he spares a glance at Tyler and says, “See, I know some shit.”
“Everyone knows about Remer, asshole,” Tyler grunts.
“Go stand in front of a moving car, Ty,” Braden replies grumpily.
“Please, after you.”
Adam stands up suddenly and throws his duffel over his shoulder. “I gotta go.”
“Alright, man. See you at practice tomorrow,” Matt says with a nod.
It doesn’t take a genius to know why he’s leaving so suddenly. But nobody says anything other than a simple goodbye. We might love picking on each other, but we’re not complete assholes.
The four of us share a look that says we’re all thinking the same thing.
Nobody says another word on the way out of the arena.
