Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,101
didn’t have any other game. He grinned. “I did it. I made it to the fucking NHL, man!”
His head throbbed, protesting his sudden shout. But Emmitt didn’t care. He was going to be playing the entire season against the best the league had to offer, under the lights and in stadiums full of excited and loud fans. The Venom were a good, solid team and Atlanta was a cool town. Emmitt couldn’t wait to call his mom.
Of course, that also meant he had to get dressed, go downstairs, and tell his teammates he’d been traded. A little bittersweet, given he was here to celebrate the team’s Calder Cup victory...but this was a part of hockey, and they all knew it. Besides, they’d be happy for him. They were good guys, and they, too, were hoping for the day they got that phone call.
* * *
“I still can’t believe it, Army. I mean, it’s awesome, but I’m gonna miss you next season.”
It was three thirty, and Emmitt and his teammate Seth were back by the pool, drinks in hand. Seth, who played forward, was one of Emmitt’s closest friends on the Raiders.
“Yeah, that part is hard. You know I love playing with you guys.” Emmitt leaned back in his chair, sunglasses shielding him from the bright midday sun. He turned his head and regarded Seth. Seth was a redhead, and after three days his skin was starting to match his hair. “Your white boy skin isn’t looking so good, dude.”
“Yeah. I’m made for more Northern European climates.” Seth winced, glancing down at himself. Then he grabbed his spray sunscreen and liberally applied it, though Emmitt wondered if it would do any good at this point. What he needed to do was put on a T-shirt, but he was probably hoping his six-pack abs and tats would get him some attention from the ladies.
It’d worked the last few days, but that was before Seth burned the tip of his nose and his skin turned lobster red. Still, there were a couple of ladies at the bar who seemed to be checking Seth out, though it could be they were concerned he was going to burn into a pile of ashes on his chair.
“Still, I can’t believe the Marauders didn’t call you up. Especially since Brisbois hasn’t been playing that great,” Seth said, sipping his margarita. He was referring to the Marauders’ goalie, whose play the last two seasons had drawn some considerable criticism. Seth moved his arms, making elaborate creaking sounds. “He looked like a reincarnated mummy monster at the end of the season.”
“Hey, quit it. It’s bad luck to make fun of goalies, even if they’re not me.”
“You don’t have to be superstitious anymore,” Seth pointed out. “We won.”
“We did.” Emmitt took a drink of his beer. It was some kind of light beer, and it had already warmed in the sunlight. He shook his head. “Crazy that I’m gonna play for the Marauders’ archrivals, though. You think they’ll try and jump me when I walk in the locker room, ’cause I was with the Raiders?”
“Nah. If they had that kind of spirit, they might have beat the Marauders in the playoffs.” Seth grinned, resting his hands over his stomach. “I’ll miss you, though, Army. Especially your save percentage.”
Emmitt snorted. They all knew trades were part of hockey, and no one really had expected Emmitt to spend another season in the AHL. But he’d miss Seth, who was one of the few people on his team who knew Emmitt was bisexual. “Hopefully I haven’t ruined the celebratory trip by announcing my imminent departure.”
“I won’t miss your ego,” Seth said, dryly.
“More room for yours.” Emmitt picked up his phone and angled it to take a selfie, tipping his sunglasses down and peering at the camera. He made sure the picture included his own defined abs, his smooth brown skin glistening with sweat. No sense in working out to keep the body he needed to be at the top of his game and not show it off. He snapped the picture and hashtagged it with #raiderspride, #cabo and #caldercupchamps then posted it on Instagram.
They were joined a few minutes later by their other teammates, Colton White and Blake Appleby, with some girls they’d apparently met while body surfing. Two of them immediately began cooing in distress over Seth’s sunburn, so maybe he had some kind of sneaky plan in place to woo women with sun poisoning or something. Not that he’d be able to do anything later.
“Hey, so, Amber and Jen here want to know if we want to go on a snorkeling trip.” Colton tossed his long, dark brown hair out of his eyes. He grinned. “We made some friends, and they say it’s a party boat with great views.”
Emmitt wasn’t sure he wanted to do anything more adventurous than sit in his chair and drink a few beers, soak up the sun, and maybe take a nap. Unlike Seth, Emmitt was smart enough to actually reapply his sunscreen at regular intervals. But the girls were cute and hey, who knew what sort of interesting people he’d meet on a party boat. He’d worked hard and just had the best season of his career. And he was going to the fucking NHL. Hell yeah.
“Party boat sounds right up my alley,” Emmitt said, getting to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Don’t miss Goalie Interference by
Avon Gale & Piper Vaughn, available now!
Copyright © 2019 by Avon Gale & Piper Vaughn
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TRADE DEADLINE (book three)
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ISBN-13: 9781488053955
Trade Deadline
Copyright © 2020 by Avon Gale & Piper Vaughn
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