11. Riley #2
“If you figure out how to make his words cut surface level instead of bone deep and work with him, more doors will open for you,” Bannerjee said, then nodded towards the skyboxes. “If you think we’re here for a basic training session, you’ve already failed.”
Riley glanced at the skyboxes and spotted two figures standing side by side, leaning against the rail with their attention on the ice. He knew one was Jake’s father because he would recognize that silhouette anywhere, which meant the other was likely the second GM of the Halifax Citadels.
“I’m Banner, by the way,” said Bannerjee. “There wasn’t time for introductions since Coach wanted us on the ice as soon as possible, but we’ll have time to get familiar with each other during the team lunch later.”
Riley had no idea there was supposed to be a team lunch. Hell, he hadn’t known there was going to be a mixed team training session. Every instinct he had was on edge now that he knew Mr. Valero was watching, which wasn’t something he needed.
Banner smiled at his lack of response and nudged him with his elbow. “Come on, I’m going to show you how to skate your way into an offer from the Halifax Citadels.”
He made it sound so easy, but as Riley got into position for Coach Sullivan to drop the puck, he knew it was going to be anything but a leisurely skate onto an NHL line.
And even though Banner said he would help show Riley what to do, the result turned out to be the exact opposite.
The moment the puck touched the ice and Carr flicked it to Sloan, Banner was on Sloan and pressuring him against the boards, roughing him up in the corner until he stripped the puck and sent it to Riley.
Riley’s reflexes were fast enough to catch the pass, but then Carr was all over him, and Riley found himself shoved into the boards the exact way Sloan had been—with a bruised ego and a missing puck.
This continued, over and over, until frustration built up and Riley’s jaw ached from how hard he was clenching his teeth. Carr and Banner were less aggressive whenever someone else had the puck, but the second it touched Riley or Sloan’s tape, they were like feral wolves trying to rip them apart.
Riley couldn’t make any good plays while being hammered against every board, and he couldn’t show off his speed when they were only using half of the rink, so he didn’t understand what the fuck he was supposed to do.
And his frustration was nothing compared to the raging force who was Kingston Sloan, currently standing in the corner, shaking and furious as a whistle called for the play to stop.
Riley was surprised he couldn’t see steam coming out of his ears, but after being shoved around for twenty minutes, Sloan was probably too exhausted to start a fight.
“Wow, Sloan was right about you,” Carr said as he came to a stop beside him. “Sorry, bud. I don’t think you’re good enough to compete on an NHL level, but you could ask the GM if he has a job in real estate for you? I heard you and his kid are close.”
The comment stunned Riley into silence. He opened and closed his mouth several times like the motion would somehow restart his voice, but other than his loud panting, nothing happened.
He shot a look at Sloan, wanting to glimpse that infuriating smirk to see if that could trigger a stronger response, but whatever Banner was saying to him had Sloan gawking the same way Riley was.
Carr clapped him on the shoulder and skated in the direction of Coach Sillivan, leaving Riley standing there like a moron.
Shame, anger, disappointment, and heartbreak clung to him like a cobweb of self-doubt, and Riley turned for the gate so he could leave and pack his bags, when a hand grabbed the collar of his jersey and yanked him back.
“Adjust your fucking loser attitude,” Sloan hissed. “Look.”
The team matchups were changing, and guys were taking both sides of the boards and grabbing their drinks for a small break. It didn’t go unnoticed that Banner and Carr were now on one side, and Riley and Sloan were on the other.
“Smug pricks.” Sloan had his eyes locked on the smiling Citadel players as he spat onto the ice. “We’re going to take them down a notch. You and me, since you’re the only one who’s worth anything on this shitty team.”
Riley hated how the backhanded praise made his pulse stutter, but the moment was short-lived when two of their Admiral teammates scoffed and moved away from them, annoyed by Sloan’s comment.
“Fine,” Riley growled. “But you call me a soft East-Coaster again, and I’ll knock your fucking teeth out. You do realize the greatest hockey player of our time is from Nova Scotia, right? Or are you too dumb to read?”
Sloan’s snort was one of disbelief. “Jett Killinger, are you kidding me? You really think he’s better than Su-jin Park?”
Of course, Sloan would think a foul-tempered pretty boy from Ottawa would be a better player than the one constantly topping the point board.
“The championship ring Killinger has right now says exactly how I feel about that,” Riley said, and then he nodded at Banner and Carr. “How are we doing this?”
Sloan tapped his stick to Riley’s shin pad.
“We play them the same way they’re about to play us.
We forget about the rest of the team and keep our eyes on each other.
I know you like teamwork and all that shit, but it’s time for you to suck it up and be a selfish asshole like me.
We only pass to each other. We only signal to each other.
I’ll take left, you take right, and when either of us gets the puck, we keep it the hell away from them. ”
Hockey was a team sport, but Sloan wasn’t wrong. Now that it was Admirals against Citadels, it would take minimal effort for Banner and Carr to steal the puck from them.
Sure, the Citadel players were the same age as them, but if the glimpse of their warmup and the clips he’d seen of them online were anything to go by, the Admirals didn’t stand a chance.
“Fine,” said Riley. “We work together. How hard could it be?”
Sloan grinned and smacked him on the ass hard enough for him to feel it through the padding. “That’s it, Evans. If we pull this off, then the next threesome is on me. I don’t mind talking you through your first time with a girl if getting you laid will make you less cranky.”
Riley speared the blade of his stick between Sloan’s feet as he skated away, tripping him hard enough to make him stumble. “I’m not a virgin, you dickhead.”
Sloan was smiling when he spun around and smacked Riley’s stick away with his own. “I know you’re not. That’s why I said I would help you for your first time with a girl. Unless you and your boyfriends aren’t in an open relationship?”
Heat prickled Riley’s skin, and he began to seriously doubt that he could work together with Sloan—ever.
“You’re either an asshole or a homophobe, and I can’t tell which one,” Riley said, shoving Sloan out of the way as he skated toward the boards.
“Not a homophobe,” said Sloan, who was skating after him. “I know you said the pretty one isn’t your boyfriend, but are you telling me you’re really not with the big one?”
Riley scowled as he grabbed his bottle and squeezed water into his mouth. He was used to being seen as Jake’s brother, so he didn’t know what gave Sloan the impression they were dating, but he was way off.
“You were playing beer league hockey with him, so I figured you guys were an item. Like, you and the big one were boyfriends, and the pretty one was only dating the big one, which would make it a love triangle…I guess?”
Riley couldn’t believe Sloan was running his mouth. The guy had no sense of self-preservation, even if the awkward meeting at Jake’s game had given him the wrong idea.
“I’m not dating anyone,” said Riley. “And for the record, the big one and the pretty one have names. They’re Jake and Allen.”
Sloan leaned on the ledge of the boards, roughly pushing into his space. “And you’re not bi? Really?”
Sighing, Riley removed his helmet so he could cool off. “This is what you want to talk about? Right now, when we’re about to go against the rookie star players of the Halifax Capitals?”
Sloan shrugged arrogantly and confidently like he always did. “You’re never at the apartment, so I can’t ask my questions except when we’re here. And I want to know because my instincts have never been wrong.”
“Oh god, are you bisexual? Is that why you brought up a threesome?” Riley asked, shivers racing through him at the thought. He couldn’t imagine having that sneering mouth anywhere near his naked body. His dick was inverting just thinking about it.
“Straight, unfortunately,” Sloan said, nonchalantly taking a drink from his bottle. “Being with a guy would make my life easier, especially if they were a hockey player. That’s why I was jealous of your boyfriends because fuck, that would be so cool.”
Riley had never thought about it like that. He didn’t think about players and their sexual preferences in general, but Sloan was on to something. Hockey was exciting to play with friends, but adding sexual tension on top of that?
Yeah, that would be a blast.
He made a mental note to look up whether there were any hockey couples later, but the shrill blast of Sullivan’s whistle cut through the rink and abruptly ended the conversation.
“I’m going to put Carr on his ass,” said Sloan. He lifted his gloved hand, his blue eyes glittering with barely contained rage as he flashed Riley a grin. “And if you need help with Banner, tag me in. I’ll crush him into the boards for that last hit he landed on me.”
Riley felt like he was about to make a deal with the devil, but at this point, he had nothing to lose. He put his glove on and bumped his fist to Sloan’s. Smiling at him felt foreign, but not…awful.