11. Riley #4
“And you—” Mr. Ansari rounded on Sloan, still smiling like a man who had just won the lottery. “You fight too much.”
Coach Sullivan laughed and then tried to hide it behind a cough.
Mr. Valero turned to her, and Riley immediately clocked the amusement in his gaze. “Do you have something to add, Sully?”
Sullivan tapped her finger on the desk, making them wait for a minute before she answered.
“They were pushed, and we all saw the shift in their behaviours. Sloan reacts more calmly around Evans, and Evans perks up when he’s matched with Sloan.
Selecting one over the other wouldn’t do anything for our roster, but when we take into account their play styles and skill sets, then pair them on the same line, the chemistry speaks for itself.
We saw the same thing with Bannerjee and Carr, so who says we can’t have two duos who feed off each other’s energy like that? ”
Mr. Kanto, who had been nodding throughout the entire rundown, cleared his throat to add, “They need more development time before the next season starts, but I agree with Coach Sullivan. I saw a spark today that I liked, and obviously you gentlemen did as well if it finally prompted you to make your decision.”
The discussion ended, and Riley was left waiting in suspended silence as reality settled inside his queasy stomach. He knew playing for the NHL was always going to happen, but playing for the Citadels—the Citadels?!
“What everyone is trying to tell you in a very unorthodox way,” said Mr. Ansari, pausing for added effect, “is welcome to the Halifax Citadels, Mr. Sloan and Mr. Evans. We’re happy to have you.”
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, and Riley and Sloan were given a rundown of what the next few months would look like before they were ushered back to the locker room to clean out their things.
As it turned out, there was a team lunch, but it wasn’t a joint one between the Admirals and the Citadels as Riley had thought.
He and Sloan were relocated from the city rink to the Citadel training rink on the outskirts of the city, where papers were signed, and their bruises were checked by the medical team.
Once they were given a clean bill of health, it was time to meet the trainers and go over schedules until Riley’s head was spinning from information overload.
To say he was overwhelmed was an understatement, and knowing the meet-and-greet would take up a huge chunk of his time had him yearning to see Jake and Allen.
Sloan had barely spoken two words since the meeting with their general managers, and the silence continued into lunch as he sat looking bored, pushing his food around on his plate.
Riley wasn’t any better. The Citadel team was a great group of guys he could see himself getting along with, but he needed a few hours to process, or his brain was going to explode.
He didn’t remember getting in a shuttle car and telling the driver to take him to Jake’s address. He didn’t remember getting out of said car and going into Jake’s building. And the elevator ride? Yeah, he couldn’t remember that either.
It wasn’t until he was standing in Jake’s penthouse, the smell of something delicious smacking him in the face that he realized he had dissociated his trip home.
It occurred to him that showing up uninvited wearing a Citadels cap and shirt might be the worst way to break the news, but it was too late now.
Jake had heard the door code beep and came to investigate, poking his head around the corner from the kitchen area to greet him with a smile.
“I texted,” he said. “You didn’t answer.”
Riley took his phone out of his pocket and blinked at the screen. “You did.”
He hadn’t meant to state it like that, and he could tell Jake was confused because of the way he was looking at him. They stopped talking for so long that it caught Allen’s attention, who had been sitting on the couch watching TV.
Riley peered up from his phone as the pretty brunette shuffled over in his fluffy bathrobe, wearing an expression that matched Jake’s. “Ry? You okay?”
Riley slowly nodded and then muttered the words he still couldn’t believe were true.
“I’m a forward for the Halifax Citadels.”
Voices from the TV drowned out the hush that had fallen over the penthouse. Jake and Allen exchanged a look, and their lack of reaction was what finally snapped him out of the weird trance he was in.
“What, no congratulations?” Riley grumbled, feeling hurt as he looked between the boyfriends. “Can you at least smile? You’re freaking me out.”
Allen cleared his throat and tucked his robe closer, like he was suddenly bashful of his appearance. “That’s great, Riley. I’m super proud of you, but can I ask—”
“I didn’t make enough to feed the four of us,” said Jake.
Four?
Riley didn’t know what Jake was talking about—until something tugged his hand, and he swerved around in shocked horror.
Kingston Sloan stood glaring at him, his blue eyes furious and mouth twisted into a snarl as he strained against Riley’s hold on his wrist.
“For the last fucking time. Let. Go. Of. Me.”