The Boyfriend Goal (Love and Hockey Book 1)

Wesley

The scarf in the bag is safe and sound on the backseat of my car. I’ve got a plan to drop it off tomorrow morning at the yellow apartment building. Saturday seems like a good day for something like that, when it’s late morning and the sun is up. I can leave it in the foyer with other packages at her place.

It’ll be the perfect morning activity after we win tonight since I fully plan for us to leave the ice victorious.

I’ve been eating my quinoa and squash, been following my exercise regimen, been working on strength and conditioning all summer with the performance coach my dad hired. Hell, Dad and I met with him again today after the team’s morning skate so Dad could go over my workout routine with him for the season.

This will be your breakout year, he likes to say. Let’s set you up for long-term success.

Translation: let’s get you a no-trade clause.

Hell, I’d love a no-trade clause and the security that would come with it. I thought I’d had job security in New York. My stats were solid there, where I played for four and a half years. The trade surprised me, but I rolled with it. After a strong second half of the season last year when I joined the Sea Dogs as a winger, I want to show the coach on my new team why I belong on the first line.

For now, I go through my pre-game rituals. I’m parked in a chair in front of my stall, taping my stick, and chilling with the guys. I’ve been debating with Max and Asher whether we should get tickets for the Chappell Roan concert next week, since we’re all a little obsessed with her tunes, when Christian strides into the locker room looking like he’s got something on his mind.

Even though he just had kids earlier in the week, he’s playing on the first line for tonight’s game. That shouldn’t surprise me—him being here or playing well—since I don’t think he missed a game all last season. Guess he’s captain for a reason. The dude shows up and plays hard. He sets an example every goddamn day. I respect the hell out of him. I want to have a career like his.

Resting his arm against a stall, he clears his throat. “Good news. My sons are awesome. The three of us took a pre-game nap together today.”

Those are a must on game days.

Chase pumps a fist. “Starting the hockey training from day one,” he calls out from in front of his stall. “Well done, Winters.”This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Christian nods then takes a deep breath. Yup, my instincts were right. He must be gearing up for a season-opener speech, and when he says, “Listen guys,” I’m sure he is. “I’ve got some more good news.”

He scratches his jaw, overrun by a five-day growth he probably hasn’t bothered to shave. “Great news, actually. My sister’s rental fell through,” he says, and he sounds pleased in a Machiavellian way. “And I couldn’t be happier. Her place wasn’t in a good neighborhood,” he says, then names the area. I cringe. My reaction does not go unnoticed by the captain. “You wouldn’t want your sisters staying there either. You’d only want your sisters staying someplace safe, right?”

There’s a collective yes from maybe half of us—the half of us who have sisters. Natalie and her girlfriend live in a nice place in Noe Valley, so I don’t worry about her.

But Ryker Samuels nods toward Christian, a grim look on his face. “That’s why I made sure Ivy moved into my place when I moved out way back when. Well, back when she was single.”

“Same,” Hugo puts in. “I always look out for my family.”

“My point exactly,” Christian says to our top defenseman. “Anyway, I warned my sister against it when she rented it, and now that it’s fallen through she’s finally listening to me.”

“So she’s staying with you?” Max barks out from next to me as he tugs on his chest protector.

Christian scoffs. “Dude. No. Liv and I are just a little bit busy with the twins, we have a baby nurse staying in a guest room, and my mom is coming and staying in another room. There’s no space for Jay.” He points to the group of us filling the locker room. “Which brings me to the great news. Which one of you guys wants to do me the biggest favor ever and let my sister stay with you for the next three months? I want her to live in a safe neighborhood, and I know all you assholes live in Pacific Heights or the Marina District so that’d be perfect. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and spends most of her time reading or working. You won’t even know she’s there. And you’d be doing me a solid.”

Asher smacks my shoulder. “Dude. You have that secret room don’t you? The one under the staircase, right?”

I laugh. “Yeah, it disappears and reappears whenever you need it.”

Asher tips his forehead to me. “Fucking Newman didn’t even know when he bought the place that it had an extra room.”

I hold out my hands wide, shrugging, like it’s no big deal. When I was looking for a place to buy after I was traded, I checked out a bunch of townhomes in Pacific Heights, where most of my friends on the pro teams in the city live. Some had two bedrooms, some had three. I picked the one I liked most, barely paying attention to the details. It’s an investment more than anything. Who knows how long I’m here, but I’d rather own than rent, since I can. Turns out, I own a three-bedroom when I’d thought it was two. But it’s like finding a slice of pizza you didn’t know you had left in the box. “It was like a bonus room when I moved in,” I say, then I meet Christian’s gaze and lift a finger. “Happy to help out.”

Christian breathes the biggest sigh of relief. “Perfect. I’ll send you her contact info, Bryant.” He whips his phone from his pocket. “And I’ll tell her I found her a place and that you’ll be reaching out.” He pauses, then adds, “Now.”

As if I’d do anything else but reach out right away. “Of course,” I say.

“I already told her to come by at the end of the game so I can introduce the two of you. She has some training thing that’s running late at her library.”

Chase whistles at Christian. “You already told her to come by? Before you even asked us? Damn.” The golden-haired former captain turns to the rest of us, arms out wide. “That’s the kind of attitude we all need to manifest on the ice. A winning attitude.”

He’s not wrong. The rest of the guys nod in agreement, and I grab my phone and click on the contact card Christian just fired my way. Jay. I send her a quick text then meet his eyes.

“Done,” I say.

“Suck-up,” Max mutters under his breath.

Christian cocks his head Max’s way. “What did you say?”

Max swallows, then shrugs as nonchalantly as he can. “I said, that was so nice of him to help out.”

“I thought so,” Christian says, then walks to me and offers a hand. “I owe you.” We shake, then he adds, “Just keep your hands off her.”

There’s a collective laugh in the locker room. Then a collective no shit. Like I’d do anything to rock the team boat. “I got you, man.”

“We all know that rule,” Asher adds.

It’s the golden rule of being on a team. You don’t bang a teammate’s sister. Well, unless you plan to marry her.

As Christian heads to his stall to get ready for the game, my phone pings with a text from my new roomie.