Blades of Glory (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 4)

“I don’t know about you guys, but I have a hard time believing those guys are alumni,” our goalie, Peca, says. “I’ve never in my life felt a shot in my palm like Shea Adler’s. He’s terrifying.”

Boon gives him a look. “Try being married to his daughter.”

Wes nods. “That whole family is terrifying.”

“They aren’t. They’re the best people ever,” I say, grinning. “But that’s because I’m in the inner circle, unlike you guys.”

“How does one come into the circle?” Wes asks, and I look over at him, putting on my helmet.

“Marry in?”

Boon shakes his head. “Nope. I’m still fighting to get in with Shea.”

Wes laughs. “That’s ’cause you’re an idiot. I’m fabulous. Remember, I scored the winning goal for the Stanley Cup during overtime.”

Everyone looks at him with dry, exasperated looks. He doesn’t fucking stop. “We know. We were there.”

“Just making sure,” Wes says with a shrug. “But since I have you remembering the great things about me, are we still a no for me dating your sister?”

Everyone looks at me, amused expressions on their faces. “You know what, Wes? No. We’re a yes for you dating my sister.”

“Seriously!” He gets so excited. “Thank God, because she keeps sending me these looks that say she wants to hook up, and I’m down.”

I swallow hard as I lean in. “No, dumbass. I’m not serious. Touch my sister, and you die.”

“Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack, bro,” I say, and everyone laughs, giving Wes a hard time. I don’t know why it bothers me that he wants to date Stella. She’s almost twenty; she can do what she wants. But Wes, he’ll hurt her. I know his past. I know he only wants one thing, and the thought that my sister only wants that same one thing makes me queasy.

Thankfully, though, I don’t have to think much about it because Jayden Sinclair hobbles in on his crutches. He’s our coach since he can’t play due to his injury. “Time to go, boys. Let’s go. I want more pucks on Monroe. Surely he’s getting tired.”

I shake my head as I reach for my stick, and Wes says, “I think he ate his Wheaties.”

“And drank a Monster,” I add.

“Maybe even a Red Bull,” Boon jokes, and then I realize why people call us the three musketeers.

We’re losers.

Thankfully, the second period is a bit slower than the first.

My dad has only cup checked me once, and Shea hasn’t come near Boon at all. Wes scored on Monroe, giving us more of a lead. Everything is opening up now that the alumni are getting tired. They’re gassed out; they may have had that rush of adrenaline at the beginning, but now they’re sucking air and making line changes like crazy. It’s messy and giving us a lot of room. Room to nail those coffins shut. It’s over for them. I can add four more destinations to Shelli’s and my honeymoon since we’ll have a private plane. I’m thinking a stop in Rome and Paris will need to happen.

“Hey.”

I look over my shoulder to find my beautiful bride-to-be. “Hey, you.”

“Hey, slow it down. You guys are making them look bad.”

Wes brings in his brows. “We’re champions. We make everyone look bad.”

The driest look covers Shelli’s face. “If you can bring the cockiness down a bit, that’ll be great.”

“As long as it’s just the cockiness you want brought down, sweetheart,” he says with a wink, and Boon leans over the boards.

“I don’t get it, Wes.”

“You know, like she better not be telling me to keep my cock down.” We both look at him blankly, and then he shrugs. “Yeah, it was a bad joke.”

“So bad,” I agree as I look back up at Shelli. “I mean, we’ve got to win, babe.”

“I know, but they’re trying so hard, and y’all are skating circles around them.”

Wes looks back once more. “Champions,” he says, pointing to all of us before pointing to the other side. “Dinosaurs.”

Pretty sure my bride is about to check my boy’s ass. I hold up my hand. “I hear you.”

She gives me a small smile before heading back up to where her mom and sister are sitting with a bunch of the wives. I don’t want to upset her, nor embarrass my dad or my future father-in-law. “Guys, let up a bit. Let them get shots off.”

They don’t argue with me; they know we have this. We’re now up by three. When I hit the ice, I notice my dad is out there too. I get the puck, carrying it up the ice as he tries to block me. It reminds me so much of when I was a kid and he was teaching me how to play. I was awful at all sports except hockey. Dad said it was because I was meant to skate, not be the Bill Buckner of all other sports. I didn’t disagree with him, but the nostalgia of skating beside my dad is astounding. I go to pass it to Boon, who has an opening. But out of nowhere, my dad is there, stealing the puck and skating down like the pro he was. I chase after him, along with Wes and Boon, as he dekes once around a defensemen and then again before going top shelf on Peca.