Pucking Strong: An MM Workplace Hockey Romance (Jacksonville Rays Book 4)

“Karlsson!”

I glance over my shoulder to see Coach Johnson standing in the doorway to his office, hands on his hips. All around me, my teammates are going through their pregame rituals, preparing for our first game of the season. Rock music plays through the speakers, adding to the noise.

“Yes, Coach?”

“Get in here.” Without waiting for a response, he disappears into his office.

I toss my moisture-wicking undershirt into my stall and stand. My skates are already on, shin pads secured, socks taped. My hockey pants sit loose around my waist as I cross the dressing room.

Is he about to tell me I’m not starting? I know I’ve been off these past few weeks, but I actually skated better this morning. I finally slept, thank Christ. Never mind that I woke to find myself wrapped around Teddy, our arms and legs entangled. There was no way to extract myself without waking him, but my alarm was going off. He groaned, rolling with me as I turned, reaching for my buzzing phone.

“Whattimeizit?” he mumbled.

“Early,” I replied, slipping from the bed.

He let me leave, his body stretched out like a starfish across the sheets as he chased more sleep.

I stumbled into the bathroom and stood at the sink, early-morning light glowing pink in the mirror. I stood there and stared at my own reflection, wondering how I could go three decades feeling like sharing my bed with another person was an unwelcome invasion of privacy. Now, in the span of less than three weeks, I’ve come to feel like I can’t sleep without Teddy next to me.

What is happening to me?

“Guys, squash in,” says Coach. “Make room for Karlsson. I’ll make this quick.”

Pausing in Coach’s doorway, I glance around. The small office is cramped with my teammates, all in a similar state of partial dress. Jake, my team captain; Langley and Novy, the assistant captains. Fuck, this can’t be good. He really is going to take my starting spot away.

Even Caleb is in here, standing in the corner with his hands in his pockets.

Wait … why would our equipment manager be here to discuss a line change?

I slip inside the door. “What’s wrong?”

Coach leans forward in his tailored grey suit, hands splayed on his desk. “It’s been brought to my attention that you’re making a little announcement tonight.”

I go still. “Sir?”

“Otherwise, why would Poppy St. James deliver this to my office?” He picks up a folder, flipping it open. “It’s a press release announcing that you went off to Sweden and married our new PT. Is that correct?”

I sigh, leaning against the doorway. “Yes, sir. Teddy and I are married. It’s been cleared with HR. Everything is legal and, you know … ethical.” I try not to look Jake’s and Caleb’s way. Their own coming-out was marred by the sticky situation of Doctor Price being Ilmari’s treating physician. “Poppy’s team is handling the press release.”

“Oh, she’s handling it alright. I’ve got the release right here, along with strict instructions that I’m supposed to throw you to the wolves tonight after the game, win or lose.”

Shit. Poppy didn’t inform me I’d be doing press tonight. I knew the release would go live during the game. It will likely be all over the internet by the end of the first period.

Just perfect. As if I wasn’t already distracted enough.

Reading my mind, Coach shakes his head, dropping the folder to the desk. “You men, I swear. Never in my thirty years in the League have I dealt with so many personal revelations on one team. I mean, how does this even happen? How are you all gay?”

Next to me, Novy snorts. But Jake sits forward in his chair. “Well, not to be too pedantic here, sir, but Caleb is actually queer, and I’m bi. I’m pretty sure Novy is straight, plus Morrow. And Mars is just … well, Mars,” he finishes with a shrug.

“And retired,” Caleb adds.

“And I’ve been told I have major bi-wife energy,” says Langley, sitting in the only other chair. “Also, my wife is bi … if that becomes relevant.”

Novy nudges Jake’s arm. “Hey, great use of ‘pedantic’ there, bud.”

Jake smiles, glancing up at his husband. “Did I use it right?”

Caleb nods.

“Yeah, man, I think that was right,” says Langley.

“Sounded right to me,” says Novy with a shrug.

“Enough,” Coach shouts. “I won’t have this distracting us all from going out there and playing our best game tonight. Karlsson, you’ve already been on the back foot since your return from Sweden. I need to know if your head is in this. And what are these?” He pulls out a stack of papers from the folder.

Novy crosses his tatted arms over his barrel chest. “How can we possibly know that without looking at them first?”

Coach glares at him. “Well, I’ll just tell you then, shall I? These are letters written in support of Karlsson and O’Connor, detailing their years-long, slow-burning, secret gay romance. Does this sound familiar?” He slips on his cheaters and reads from the first letter. “‘Henrik Karlsson is as gay as the day is long. I always knew he and Teddy would get together.’”

“Oh, hey.” Novy perks up, raising his hand. “Coach, that’s mine. I wrote that one.”

From the corner of the room, Caleb smirks. “Gay as the day is long? Seriously?”

Novy chuckles. “What did you write, asshole? Some emo song lyrics?”

Coach holds up more papers. “Langley, yours is five pages long. Front and back.”

Langley shrugs, going a little pink at the ears. “I felt passionately about it.”

“It’s in legalese, Langley! It cites three federal statutes and a ruling from the Supreme Court of Florida.”

“All good arguments should be backed up with facts, right?”

Coach shakes the papers at him. “There are footnotes!”

“Dude, just admit Tess helped you,” Novy mutters.

Langley rolls his eyes. Everyone on the team knows he has severe dyslexia. “Fine. Yeah, obviously she helped. But I support every word of it.”

“Read mine next,” says Jake.

“I’m not gonna stand here and read all these out! Sweet Mother Mary, the picture Novikov paints would make a damn sailor blush.” Coach drops the pile of papers to his desk. “Will someone just fill me in so I know what the hell is going on? Why are we doing this now? Why do you think we need this distraction right at the start of the damn season? Why do you all have to make such a public deal out of your damn private lives?”

My teammates all go still, glaring at Coach.

“It’s for Operation Mighty Oak,” Novy explains.

Coach narrows his eyes at him. “Operation what?”

“Operation Mighty Oak,” he repeats.

“Mighty what?”

“Please don’t say it again,” I mutter.

Novy sinks into silence.

“Look, just ask Poppy,” says Caleb.

“I’m asking my damn players! You know, the men I pay to play hockey?”

“It’s no big deal,” Jake assures him. “She asked us to write the letters so Karlsson and Teddy can show the Swedish and American governments proof of a prior relationship. You know, for their custody case. It’s for Karlsson’s niece, Coach.”

“We’re all ready to swear before any court that the stuff in those letters is true,” Langley adds.

“Trust us,” Jake goes on. “We’re not hurting the team, Coach. We’re helping it. Team means family, and family sticks together. Karlsson just needs to get through press tonight, okay? You know the vultures; give them a little taste of blood, and they’ll back off. But the rest of us are focused. We’re taking home the W, and the Islanders will go back to New York in tears.”

Coach levels his gaze at me. “And you, Karlsson? Six years with you on this team, and I’ve never once had to question whether you were fit to play. But now?” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, son, I’m asking. Are you here? Are you in this?”

My embarrassment feels ready to boil me from the inside out. I don’t do this. I don’t make public statements about my personal life. I don’t give interviews and write press releases. And I don’t lie.

And this is all a lie. Every word in those letters is a fabrication designed to deceive. I’m so grateful to every man in this room who is coming to my defense. They’re protecting me, protecting Karolina and Teddy. But if their defense comes at the expense of their integrity? How do I live with that? How do I look them in the eye?

“Hey.” From behind me, Novy squeezes my shoulder.

I glance his way.

As if he can read my every thought, the corner of his mouth tips with a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, bud. We’ve got you. You’re a Ray, Karlsson. And Rays flock together … or, you know, whatever shit rays do out in the wild.”

“School, maybe?” Langley offers.

“Swim?” says Jake with a shrug. He turns to Caleb. “Hey babe, what’s the group noun for stingrays?”

We all turn as Caleb stands there, hands in his pockets. “I …”noveldrama

The tension in the room breaks as Jake gasps, tugging on Langley’s arm. “Oh my god, take a picture.”

Novy pushes off from the wall, eyes alight. “He doesn’t know.”

Langley fumbles in his pocket as Jake shakes his shoulder. “Take the fucking picture!”

Laughing, Langley holds up his phone. “Did we finally do it, Cay? Did we find the limits of your dazzling intellect?”

Jake looks like a kid on Christmas as he points at his husband. “You don’t even know, do you? Admit it.”

“Fuck you,” Caleb mutters, throwing up a hand to try to stop Langley from taking his picture. “None of you knows either, assholes.”

“Send it to Mars!” Jake directs as Caleb lunges over him. “Tell him Cay needs to ask him a very important question—ouch—” He and Langley cackle as Caleb folds himself over Jake’s chair, trying to wrestle the phone away.

“Give it to me.”

“Ow—babe—hey, not so feisty in front of Coach!”

“Here—catch!” Langley tosses the phone to Novikov.

“Fuckers—”

“Sent,” says Novy with a smug grin.

Meanwhile, Coach looks as red as a tomato as he slams his fist down on the desk. “Enough!”

The guys all jolt as Caleb quickly tries to unfold himself from Jake’s lap. But Jake wraps an arm around his hips, keeping Caleb pinned.

Coach looks around at all of us with a disappointed shake of his head. “Why I haven’t retired already, I swear I’ll never know. Now, all of you, get your heads out of your asses, get out of my damn office, and go get ready for the goddamn game!”

Before any of us can move, there’s a knock on the door.

“What?” Coach shouts.

Brad Brady pops his head inside the door. “Hey, is Karlsson in here?”

Coach sighs. “He’s right here, Brady. What do you need?”

Brady turns to me. “Uhh … it’s Teddy. You better come quick.”

“Christ have mercy,” Coach mutters.

My heart drops. “What happened?”

Brady just shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. He’s sorta freaking out though.”

I move for the door, my mind already imagining the worst. “What happened?” I say again.

Brady swings the door open, letting me exit. “He says his mom is here.”

I stop. “What?”

“Yeah. He says she wants to meet you.”