Epilogue/Riley
Riley’s muscles were burning from practice even though they were supposed to keep it light the day before their first game.
Their first game. Preseason opening at the Halifax arena on home ice against the Toronto Sunbursts, and Riley wanted to throw up.
He didn’t know if the nausea came from a place of exhilaration or fear, but he knew if he couldn’t find a way to relax, he was going to be a goddamn mess the second his blades touched official NHL ice.
Kingston, the bastard, had exactly zero anxiety about the game, and even had the nerve to look bored as the team stood gathered on the ice for a formal addressing.
He was practically dozing off as Coach Sully gave them one final pep talk to keep them fired up, and Mr. Ansari and Everett gave a few final words of praise that did nothing to relieve the pressure.
Then it was Jake’s turn to step forward and address them, and while Riley knew Jake 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 he grabbed 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 him gently to 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.
Which is why he didn’t argue when he was herded into a physio session with one of the new guys on the medical team, quietly following instructions as he went through stretches to keep things from locking up, and a very short massage to soothe the remaining aches.
Once he was cleared, Riley was free to find Kingston, who was waiting patiently for him in the locker room, looking bored.
“Allen and Jake are waiting for us in the car. You ready to go?” Kingston asked, raising an eyebrow at whatever expression Riley was wearing on his face.
It was frustrating to be the only one in their group who had anxiety about the game, but Riley didn’t know what was bravado and what was real with Kingston sometimes.
“How are you so chill?” Riley asked, unable to hold his agitation in any longer.
Kingston’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Riley threw his hands in the air. “I mean, how are you not at least a little nervous for tomorrow? You were falling asleep during practice—how?”
Kingston shoved onto his feet and took Riley’s hand, leading him away from the locker room until they found an empty hallway. Once he was sure they were alone, he pinned Riley against the wall and leaned in so he could whisper into his ear.
“You know when Jake fucked me yesterday?”
A strangled sound caught in Riley’s throat because, of course, he remembered Jake fucking his boyfriend for the first time. He had been so caught up in the beautiful way that Kingston had submitted for Jake, that Allen had given up on riding him so they could enjoy the show.
“I wish we recorded it so I could replay it for us,” Riley admitted, and Kingston sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Okay, beyond you being a pervert—the sex is why I’m not acting like a spazz like you are. Jake’s dick was like a tranquillizer. Ever since he fucked me, I’ve been feeling floaty and relaxed, so there’s your cure, Evans.”
The cure. Jake’s dick. Letting Jake fuck him.
“I can’t do that,” Riley hissed. “I’ve never bottomed before, and you want me to do it the night before the biggest game we’re ever going to play?”
Kingston scoffed and rolled his eyes. “The biggest game we’ll ever play will be game four in the final round of the playoffs. Don’t be a bitch.”
Riley couldn’t argue because Kingston had a point, but still.
“I took the horse for a ride, and I’m barely sore,” Kingston continued. “You know the three of us would prep your virgin ass good before he mounted you, so I would just try—”
Riley slapped a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth. If he heard any more, he was going to catch on fire and burn the building down.
But Kingston tore his hand away, and Riley spotted the wicked grin on his face before he had a chance to brace himself for whatever was coming next.
“Don’t be scared, babe. I bet you’d look so pretty with your knees up to your ears, moaning like a good boy while Jake fucks you full of cum.”
“Jesus Christ, Sloan.”
Riley was finished with the conversation. If his boyfriend didn’t shut the fuck up, he was going to end up walking out the door with his dick fully hard.
He twisted free and made a rapid retreat down the hall, determined to get within earshot of other human beings so Kingston would be socially obligated to shut up.
“I know you’re thinking about it, Evans!” Kingston called out as he chased after him. “Give it a try! What do you have to lose?”