Delayed Penalty (Scoring Chances #4)

CHAPTER ONE

March

“Fuck, it’s nice to finally see the sun again,” Thad Racine said as he pushed away his empty plate.

“Yeah, it’s been a long winter.” Graham Pennington stretched, bumping his feet against Thad’s.

He didn’t pull away, too content and lazy after practice, sitting in the sunshine, and a great meal.

“Is there anything else I can get for you gentlemen?” the waitress asked, approaching their table on the restaurant’s patio.

Graham glanced at Thad, who shook his head. But before he could ask for the check, Thad smiled at her. “The bill, please. I’ll take care of it.”

She smiled back. “Of course. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“You don’t have to get my lunch too,” Graham protested.

Thad’s smile widened as he turned it on Graham. “I know I don’t. But I want to. You’ve spent all afternoon listening to me geek out about photography.”

“It’s not a hard duty,” Graham countered with a shrug.

Thad snorted. “Oh, the jokes I could make there.”

Under the table, Graham kicked him.

“What?” Thad widened his eyes. “You’re a hockey player, you can’t be mad about a little innuendo.”

“I’m not mad,” Graham said with a laugh. “But you’re incorrigible.”

“Ooh, big word for a hockey player. Must be because you were a fancy college boy …”

Graham kicked him again, but this time Thad trapped his foot between his own.

“Damn it. You’re a hockey player too,” Graham countered, trying to wrestle his foot back.

“I was a hockey prospect,” Thad shot back, bumping the table with his knee and making the leftover ice rattle in their glasses. “Prison kinda put a dent in that one. Never exactly got my shot, you know?”

Graham winced, stilling, feeling guilty for bringing up what was probably a sore subject.

It had been a youthful mistake on Thad’s part when he took part in a robbery the summer between his draft and training camp in LA.

No one had been hurt, and Thad had certainly turned his life around since.

It was admirable, really. He hadn’t meant to remind Thad of his loss. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.”

Thad certainly looked and sounded calm enough. There wasn’t a hint of unease on his handsome face or in his hazel eyes.

But somehow Graham had a feeling the calm was a front. He had a feeling a lot of what Thad did was a front. Ever since he’d seen him sitting in the halls of the Harriers Community Ice Complex, knees drawn up, hands clasped, staring at absolutely nothing on the floor, Graham had wondered about that.

Thad put on a great show, laughing, teasing, flirting with everyone. But when he thought people weren’t looking, the mask slipped a little sometimes, his expression going distant like he was thinking about something else.

That day had been the start of their friendship.

Graham had sat beside him on the floor, offered him a sports drink, asked him what was wrong, and for a few moments, he’d caught a glimpse of a guy who was lonely.

A guy who wanted connection and didn’t have a fucking clue how to find it.

A guy who was struggling with his relationship to his brother, the general manager of the organization.

And then the walls had gone up.

So Graham had invited Thad to lunch at his favorite place in Boston, trying to draw him out.

One lunch had turned into another, then they started to meet up regularly at sports bars to watch the game and eat and shoot the shit. They talked about Thad’s role in the social media department for the Harriers, and how Graham was doing as a top line winger and alternate captain this season.

They reminisced about their home state of Pennsylvania and checked out the sights in Boston together and … they were friends.

Graham thought he probably knew Thad better than anyone else in the Harriers organization, probably better even than Thad’s twin brother, Gavin, since they’d been estranged for years. And yet, sometimes he wondered if he knew Thad at all.

“Hey,” Graham said now, leaning forward to touch Thad’s arm where he’d stretched out, fingers toying with the condensation on his nearly empty glass of iced tea. “You can talk to me, you know.”

“What do you want me to talk about?” Thad asked with a frown, leaning in too and looking Graham in the eye.

Graham opened his mouth, not even sure what he was going to say, when the waitress reappeared.

She glanced between them, then hesitated, hanging on to the little leather folder where the bill peeked out. “Uhh, shit. Um, so, I put my name and number on the back of the bill, but I didn’t realize you two were …” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, ignore it. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to …”

Thad smiled, reaching out to take the folder. “What if I don’t want to ignore it?”

“Oh, uh …” She glanced between them again. “I wouldn’t be …”

“This guy and I work together,” Thad said smoothly. “We’re buddies, not dating. He has a girlfriend. I’m bi and very single.”

“Oh.” She smoothed her hair behind her ear. “Well, then … text me if you want.” She turned and walked away with a little bounce in her step before Graham could even manage a single word.

Thad dipped his head, skimming the bill before he pulled out his wallet and fished out a credit card.

“Are you sure?” Graham protested. “I mean—”

Thad glanced up, smirking. “I’m very sure I’m bi and single. That’s never been in question.”

Graham reached for a wadded-up napkin and threw it at Thad.

It bounced off his pec and landed on the table. He was at least as fit as players like Graham, his upper body firm and honed under the snug T-shirt he wore. “You know what I mean. I was talking about paying for lunch.”

“I know you’re the big hotshot with the cushy deal, but I can swing a lunch or two here and there, dude. I do think it’s funny we keep getting mistaken for a couple though.”

“This is only the second time it’s happened!” Graham protested, his face feeling a little warm. He realized they still had their feet tangled together under the table and pulled away.

No wonder the waitress had thought they were dating.

“And how often does that happen when you’re out with some other guy on the team?” Thad asked teasingly.

“Fucking pay the bill and let’s get out of here, man,” Graham said with a groan rather than dignifying that with a response.

Thad could be an asshole. He was, unfortunately, one of Graham’s closest friends at this point.

Possibly, Graham had terrible taste in friends.

“Yeah?” Thad drawled, slipping the credit card into the bill folder and holding it up, indicating to the waitress hovering nearby that he was ready. “Eager to get back to my place, huh?”

Graham sputtered, not sure if he’d deliberately timed it so she would hear his comment as she walked up or not.

“What the fuck? I thought you were trying to get a date with her,” Graham hissed when she was out of earshot again.

Thad shrugged. “I mostly enjoy flirting. I mean, I’ll text her and I wouldn’t turn her down if she’s up for a hookup. She’s hot. But it’s not like I can’t find someone else.” He waved his phone.

Graham rolled his eyes. Yeah, Thad and his fucking apps. He seemed to have a new person in his bed all the time.

Thad settled back in his chair with a smug little smile. “But if you wanted and she was into it, I’d be up for the two of us double—”

“What? No! Absolutely not. That is not my scene. Not part of the plan.”

“I know.” Thad’s tone turned mocking as he crooned the words. “You’re such a good little boy with your five-year plan to be married and have a Cup before you’re thirty.”

“Shut the fuck up. First of all, that would make it a four-year plan—”

“Or you’re behind schedule,” Thad pointed out.

Graham glared. “Secondly, there’s nothing wrong with having goals to work toward. It’s called being responsible and proactive.”

Thad scoffed.

“Third, I am not a good little boy. Just because I prefer to invest my time in a relationship instead of—”

“And how does that work out for you?” Thad asked with a pointed look. “Because this is the third woman you’ve dated since we became friends. Which has been, what? Five months or so?”

“Well, sometimes it takes a while to find the right one. And if you want to talk numbers, let’s talk about the number of people you hook up with, dude.”

Thad snorted. “Yeah, well, if you’re smart, you’ll stop looking for something serious and enjoy playing the field like me, dude.”

“If I was smart, I’d never have become friends with you,” Graham said with a sigh.

Unfortunately, he didn’t mean a word of it.

“Ugh, I should get home.” Graham yawned. His shoulder bumping Thad’s as he shifted in his seat, setting his empty beer bottle on the dresser serving as both clothing storage and a side table.

After lunch, they’d come back to Thad’s studio apartment to hang out. They’d played video games, had dinner, then parked themselves in front of the TV on Thad’s very small sofa.

A loveseat, really. It was all that would fit in the space.

“Game’s almost over,” Thad said lazily. “You might as well stay until the end.”

“True.”

They were watching basketball.

Thad wasn’t a huge fan, but Graham was and after Thad had won the usual argument over what they were going to order for dinner, Graham had wrestled the remote away from him and put on the New York vs.

Pennsylvania game, then sat on the remote so Thad couldn’t change it back to the god-awful reality dating shows he liked.

“Ugh, Travis Rogers is too good this season. He should’ve stayed in Toronto,” Graham muttered as he made another basket.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if he were playing for Penn.”

“Don’t remind me.”

The Pennsylvania Havoc were down seventeen points, and it didn’t look there was any chance of them turning things around. Not with three minutes left in the final quarter.

Sure enough, the game ended a few minutes later, with New York victorious. As per usual.