CHAPTER TWO
OCTOBER
Stupid fucking Viking-named asshole, Tanner grumbled under his breath as he got into position for the faceoff.
Stupid pretty-faced Viking-named asshole.
Leif Rasmussen really shouldn’t look like that.
It was rude of him.
Distracting.
Tanner chomped on his mouthguard and Leif’s gaze flicked toward him.
Tanner winked and Leif looked away, clenching his teeth, making his already strong jaw look even more defined. He really had unfairly sharp cheekbones. Like, what the fuck? Those things could practically cut glass.
It was hard to imagine how he could get any better looking, to be honest.
The color of New York’s uniforms even set off the color of his eyes. Because of course they did.
Tanner had never been able to figure out what color Leif’s eyes were actually. Sort of … grayish-blueish-greenish, maybe?
One of Tanner’s favorite taunts was to call Leif ice princess, and the name totally fit. Especially now as he glared at Connor across the faceoff circle, trying to pretend Tanner didn’t exist.
The puck dropped, Connor snapped it to Luke and Tanner skated backwards, setting himself up to get in the way of any of the New York guys who might think about going after it.
Especially Leif.
After what an asshole he’d been this past summer following their hookup, Tanner was determined to mop the floor with him.
There was no way in hell Tanner was letting New York win anything tonight.
The first period remained scoreless but on Tanner’s first shift out in the second, he spied the perfect opportunity to set up a play they’d practiced this morning.
Tanner pressed Leif against the boards. “Missed me, Princess?” he teased.
“No,” Leif ground out, battling for the puck with Graham.
“But we had so much fun together in Chicago,” Tanner reminded him. “Walking back from dinner together … and then you dragging me into that alley to flirt with me …”
“I—” Leif sputtered.
But it was enough, his focus was broken for just long enough to allow Graham to snag the puck and sprint away, sweeping behind the net.
With a growl of frustration, Leif jabbed his elbow into Tanner’s sternum. Tanner staggered back, trying to regain his balance and his breath.
“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole,” Leif threw at him as he tore after Graham.
Tanner wanted to point out that Leif was a total fucking liar but he wasn’t about to do that in the middle of the game when both their teammates were around.
Besides, he had hockey to play and with a sweep of the ice to confirm the position his teammates were in, Tanner was already skating backwards, setting up the play.
A moment later Graham deked, then rocketed a shot across open ice to Tanner, who snapped it over to Connor who was waiting in the slot. Connor tucked the puck into the net between the New York goalie’s blocker and pad.
The lamp lit up and Tanner threw himself in Connor’s direction.
“Just like we practiced!” he hollered.
Connor shook him, a rare grin lighting his face as the other guys slammed into them too, pinning Tanner in the center of the celly.
Tanner’s captain wasn’t exactly the smile-iest guy out there.
He spent most of his time with a scowl on his face, but there were three things guaranteed to make him light up. His kids. His boyfriend, Jesse. And hockey.
Funny to think of how jealous Connor had acted toward Tanner when Connor and Jesse first started screwing around.
Sure, Tanner and Jesse had done their share of screwing around too, way back when. But it was over looong before either Jesse or Tanner were with the Harriers and had never meant anything.
Jesse was fun but Tanner had no interest in anything serious. At the time, Jesse hadn’t wanted that either. But, apparently there was an exception for everything because Connor and Jesse’s screwing around had turned into lurve. Shmoopy, disgusting love.
They would be cute if they weren’t kind of … nauseating.
And okay, maaaybe Tanner had gotten a little jealous of Connor and Jesse at first too but only because Tanner was annoyed that Jesse never had time for him anymore.
Jesse was now responsible and a family man. Again, cute but kinda barf-inducing.
Tanner loved the kids though. Maura and Evie reminded him of his sisters, who he didn’t get to see often enough.
Tanner suddenly realized he was slowly being crushed to death in a pile of big, sweaty men—not all bad! he thought cheerfully—but he did actually need to breathe at some point. He shoved his way out of the celly, gasping for air.
“You were right there, Clayton,” Crawford said, palming Tanner’s helmet and shaking him until Tanner’s teeth rattled. “You sure do know how to get under Leif Rasmussen’s skin.”
“Told you,” Tanner said smugly as they skated toward the bench. “I know how to make the ice princess melt.”
Connor snorted. “More like spontaneously combust. The dude looked fuckin’ pissed. What did you say to him?”
Tanner smirked, slipping onto the bench and scooting down to give the other guys room. “I just reminded him of the moment we had in Chicago last summer.”
Graham frowned. “What moment? I thought he spent the whole camp more or less ignoring you. That’s what it looked like to me, anyway.”
“Yeah, more or less,” Tanner pointed out. “This was when we were heading back to the hotel after the farewell dinner.”
“Oh, is that why he disappeared that night?” Graham asked.
“Yup.” Tanner shot him a bright grin. “He had to take a few cooldown laps.”
Not that Tanner had been in a good mood after their hookup either. The shit Leif had said about his family was so fucking uncalled for.
What the fuck? Who the fuck said shit about a guy’s family? Their mom? Scumbags. Total scumbags, that was who.
Because, yeah, fine. Maybe Leif had some valid reasons for being pissed at Tanner.
They’d never really gotten along.
Tanner had tried, God knows, he’d fuckin’ tried to be friends with the dude back when they’d played together in Belmont, Massachusetts, but Leif was always so snooty.
Always with his nose in the air and convinced he was God’s gift to hockey.
Always looking down on Tanner for having fun. Telling him he should be more serious. He should practice more and screw around less.
Always acting like the only reason Tanner had made it on the team was because his stepdad was the coach.
Which was total bullshit of course. Jeff would never.
Tanner didn’t really remember the details of his tryout anymore, but he definitely knew there had been some outside person overseeing it or something. All above board.
And dude, there were tons of players coached by their actual fucking bio dads.
Honestly, if anyone had the advantage, if was fucking Leif.
Leif with his Hall of Fame father to teach him everything. With a bajillion fucking dollars from his dad’s NHL money and his supermodel mother’s career to spend on equipment and private fucking coaches and all that shit.
Tanner was the one who had to work twice as hard because his bio dad had fucked their family over, running off with some chick he was banging along with most of the money when Tanner was fourteen.
Tanner’s mom had worked her ass off to pay for his used hockey equipment and shit, but she hadn’t started sleeping with Jeff to get Tanner on the team when he turned sixteen.
Sure, they’d met through Tanner’s hockey about a year after Tanner’s dad left, but she’d fallen in love with him because he was a nice fucking guy. Because he was there for Tanner when he needed to talk to someone. When he was mad at everything in the world. Especially his dad.
So Leif had it all fucking wrong.
But he’d been Tanner’s teammate on the Belmont Furies and Tanner wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, so he tried to brush it off and treat the guy well.
They’d been playing together for two years by the time shit really hit the fan.
Tanner hadn’t sabotaged him on purpose. He hadn’t known there was going to be a scout from the Boston Harriers there for the game. He hadn’t even been the one to sneak in the booze. He’d just encouraged Leif to let loose for fucking once.
And he had. That was the most annoying part. He’d totally had fun that night.
In the hours they’d all spent in that hotel room, laughing, joking around, drinking … Leif had looked happier than Tanner had ever seen him.
And later, when it was the two of them alone in Tanner’s room, when Tanner had been on his knees with Leif in his mouth, his face had looked fucking soft for once.
He wasn’t the ice princess Tanner saw most of the time.
His cheeks had been flushed with color, his hair had been a mess, and he’d looked relaxed and happy.
It had made Tanner feel really fucking good to get a guy like that to finally unwind. Hell, Leif had even kissed him after. Hadn’t minded the taste of himself in Tanner’s mouth.
Tanner had gone back to his hotel room that night thinking that maybe he and Leif were finally gonna be friends.
But it had all gone to hell the next day.
Leif had been all bitchy ice princess again, all snarly and mean, blaming Tanner for why he felt like shit and played even worse.
And so Tanner had kept goading him and goading him. Leif had flubbed something on the power play and it had all gone downhill from there. They’d lost the game badly.
After, they’d ended up tussling in the locker room. And not in a horsing-around way. Leif had legit looked ready to murder Tanner that day.
But still, Tanner had thought it would blow over eventually. Leif would cool off and they’d go back to the fun kind of arguing they’d done before.
Maybe Leif would even be up for fooling around again.
But no. Boston had lost interest in Leif and that had enraged him.
The stupid part was that they hadn’t lost interest just because of that one game—Leif had been struggling for a while there—but Leif had blamed it all on Tanner. He’d said he’d deliberately sabotaged him.
Which, dude. What the fuck?
Leif was giving Tanner way too much credit for his planning skills if he really thought Tanner had, like, orchestrated the whole thing.
That was fuckin’ nuts.