CHAPTER FIVE
Following the Portland game, the Harriers had practice, then left on a short two-game road trip to St. Louis and Columbus.
With no one waiting at home for him and no trouble sleeping on planes, Luke didn’t mind the travel. One bed—or airplane seat—was as good as the next.
He vaguely thought about trying to hook up with someone on the road, but he had a buddy in St. Louis, so he met up with him for dinner.
The Harriers went to a really fucking weird place in Columbus. Jesse had picked it out of course—as the team’s “fun committee” he was always planning random fucking shit—and called it an ‘immersive, interactive art exhibit’.
Crawford couldn’t say he knew much about art other than what he hung on his own walls. And that was less about knowing anything about it than knowing what he liked and what he thought would look good with the rest of the shit he owned.
But the place they’d gone kinda reminded Luke of a cross between an escape room and a drug-fueled haunted house, minus the horror. There were multiple rooms in a huge industrial building filled with trippy art, a story to follow, and puzzles to solve.
It was filled with loud music and glowing neon lights and by the time they left, Luke had a pounding headache. Most of the guys had loved it but Luke privately told Connor that he was too old for that shit and Connor grinned and agreed.
But he was so stupid in love with Jesse he would do anything for him.
Luke didn’t have that problem.
So, while the rest of the team split off into smaller groups that night to go to dinner, Luke went back to his hotel.
He ordered room service, ate, then stripped down to his boxers and sprawled out on the bed.
He hurt everywhere from the game in St. Louis, and his head was still pounding despite the pills he’d taken.
He hadn’t been on his phone much that day, so he skimmed through notifications, deleting most of them and replying to a few.
He hesitated on one he had from his agent, Mac Sanders. All it said was, Call me when you get a chance.
That didn’t exactly give him a lot of info, but it was still early enough that he might as well give him a ring.
“Hey. Thanks for calling,” Mac said when the call connected.
“Sure. What’s up?”
Mac sighed. “I’m afraid they’re not budging on term.”
Luke dragged a hand across his face. “Okay.”
“They’re willing to go up a little on the AAV, but term … nothing.”
Luke let out a heavy sigh. So they’d pay him a little more per year but wouldn’t give him longer.
They’d been going around in fucking circles on these contract negotiations since last summer.
His contract was up at the end of this season and Mac had been working his ass off to get a new one nailed down.
But Gavin—or the Harriers ownership group—Luke wasn’t entirely sure which, was holding firm. They wouldn’t agree to a two-year deal. The best they’d offer was one. And the problem was, if they couldn’t come to an agreement, he’d be traded somewhere.
“I don’t fucking want to go anywhere else,” Luke reminded him.
“I know how much you value staying in Boston to wrap up your career.”
Luke had spent the early years of his career bouncing from team to team. Since Boston had acquired him during their previous successful playoff push, he’d assumed it would be like anywhere else—a short stop before he was sent somewhere else.
But to his surprise, he’d stayed.
He’d done so well during the postseason the Harriers’ previous general manager had kept him on the next season. And even once that GM got fired and Gavin Racine was hired to fill his place, Gavin had told him that Luke had a place there in Boston.
A part of him wanted to believe that Gavin meant it.
Wanted to hope that maybe he’d actually retire here in Boston instead of spending the remainder of his career being sent all over the fucking continent. But his contract was up at the end of this season and they were making no headway.
None Luke and his agent were happy with, anyway.
And Luke didn’t mind taking a bit of a discount on what he got paid. He wasn’t stupid, he knew his career was winding down. Over? No. But he’d reached the tail end of it.
And look, he wasn’t greedy. He hadn’t been rich growing up and he still didn’t get the guys in the league who enjoyed lavish lifestyles.
It wasn’t him and it never would be. But he’d played a hard game over the years, and it was starting to take its toll.
He needed that money to get through. To set him up for the rest of his life.
But the trade deadline was less than two months away and they didn’t seem to be making any progress.
Mac was talking now, so Luke tuned back in to hear him say, “I know you don’t want to leave Boston but if they don’t want you, there are plenty of teams who do.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, clearing his throat. “But we’ll worry about that if it comes to it. For now, keep at it. Fucking remind Gavin that if he’s serious about making a hard push for the playoffs this season, the team fucking needs me.”
“I will,” Mac promised.
“Thanks, man.”
The Harriers won both games on their road trip and by the time they returned to Boston on Thursday night, they were in third place in their conference, top of their division.
It felt good. Despite the thoughts swirling in Luke’s head about the contract negotiations, he’d played well. Contributed to what the team needed. Even if his knee and elbow hurt like a fucking bitch, he felt good about that.
Like Coach Hoyt said, complacency would kill them if they got too cocky, but for now, they were doing pretty damn well.
Due to the road trip, their next home game was exactly a week after the one against Portland and it wasn’t until Luke got on the ice for warmups that he thought about the fact that he’d probably see Vintage Jersey Guy tonight.
Sebastian something.
Fuck. He was probably here right now, wasn’t he?
During the trip, Luke had checked online a couple of times, just to reassure himself there weren’t any issues. Like Sebastian getting on social media and talking shit about him or something. But everything had been quiet.
Just the usual garbage about what a scumbag player he was.
So, nothing new.
Luke kept his gaze firmly out of the stands as he warmed up, doing laps, crushing Tanner against the boards, and shooting some pucks at Jesse that he snatched out of the air like always.
Luke didn’t get a penalty until the second period and despite his promise to himself that he wouldn’t give Sebastian the satisfaction of admitting he knew he was there or not, their gazes met as Luke stepped into the box.
He quickly looked away.
“Hey, Crawford!” Sebastian called out a moment later. “Nice missed shot there earlier. I’ve seen better hands on a snake!”
Luke shifted awkwardly, staring out through the penalty box door.
Shit, he hadn’t really thought this through, had he? Absolutely nothing about the guy’s chirping had changed, only now Luke knew he could turn his balls inside out with his mouth in no time at all.
Luke didn’t like to admit it, but it had been a damn good blowjob.
The best ever? Maybe not, but it was up there.
Unfortunately.
As Luke left the game following a loss to Dallas in overtime later that night, he didn’t feel too bad about the results.
They’d picked up one point for overtime rather than losing two and Dallas was a strong team this year.
Plus, they hadn’t lost because they’d played a bad game.
While none of them liked losses, a certain number of them were inevitable throughout the season and the mood in the locker room was good as guys went through their post-game routines, then got ready to leave.
The guys in relationships were all heading home, the rookies had plans to do some gaming, and Tanner pouted in his stall as he stripped out of his gear.
“Why is everyone so boring?” he complained.
Luke shrugged.
“What are you doing tonight?” Tanner glanced up at him.
“I dunno,” Luke said. “Hadn’t decided yet.”
“Wanna hang out? We could do karaoke, hit up O’Neill’s, whatever you want.”
Luke eyeballed him. “Don’t we spend enough time together here and on the road?”
Tanner scowled. “Rude, man.”
“I’m just sayin’ …”
“C’mon, come out with me.” There was a distinctly whiny note in Tanner’s voice. “I need to be entertained.”
“Why don’t you know how to entertain yourself?” Luke countered. He’d made the mistake of agreeing to do something once, so every time Tanner wanted someone to hang out with, he bugged Luke about it.
Luke stripped off the last of his soggy gear and slipped on a pair of shower shoes, then strode naked into the wet room and cranked on the faucet in one of the half-wall shower stalls.
Tanner followed, wrapped in a towel, and took one of the stalls nearby. “Because I get easily bored,” he said, tossing the towel over the edge of the tiled half-wall.
Luke snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know, bud.”
“Where do you go after games anyway?” Tanner asked. “And why won’t you talk about it?”
“Because sometimes, I want some fuckin’ space from you,” he pointed out, dunking his head under the water and wetting it.
Honestly, it wasn’t Tanner personally, it was the whole team, but it was more fun to make Tanner think it was all him.
Tanner shot him a glare. “Why are you such a dick?”
Luke reached for some shampoo. “Just the way I was made, I guess.”
Tanner started belting out the lyrics to Born this Way and Luke rolled his eyes and scrubbed his hair as quickly as he could before he moved on to cleaning his body.
He was in and out in record time and Tanner was still mid-shower as he left the shower room.
“You suck!” Tanner called after him.
“Pretty sure that’s your specialty,” Luke shot back.
He passed Connor in the short hallway. His captain, clearly heading into the shower after post-game media, raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know?”
“Nah. Just me and Tanner giving each other shit.”
“Got it.” Connor slapped his shoulder. “Have a good night, man.”
“You too.”