Page 143 of Game Misconduct

Tanner could feel the frustration on both sides as the minutes of the second period wound down. He was playing like he always did, up in Leif’s business, trying to annoy him and get him to make a mistake.

Leif seemed more annoyed than usual though and when Tanner shouted, “Hey, Princess. Maybe next time try having the puck go in the net instead of aiming for the posts. I’ve heard that helps.”

Leif cross-checked him in the chest, shouting that he was tired of his shit.

“Dude! What’s your fucking problem?” Tanner snapped, dropping his stick onto the ice with a clatter, riled up from the adrenaline and the anticipation.

Scowling, Leif threw off his gloves and grabbed the front of Tanner’s jersey. He shook him like a ragdoll but Tanner grinned. Leif would never hurt him for real.

But Leif looked genuinely mad and they grappled for a moment. Tanner’s helmet popped off and a moment later he was on his knees on the ice, laughing up at Leif. God they were so bad at this. Neither of them were really fighters.

He stared up at Leif, blowing him a kiss, knowing it would piss him off but also that he’d know that Tanner had done it because it was the only way in the moment he could show Leif how much he cared for him.

How much he loved him.Oh shit.He was in love with Leif!

And Tanner felt dizzy as the realization hit, as he finally knew that was what all his missing Leif and hating the fact they hadn’t been talking much had been about.

But then Crawford was there, pulling Leif away, shouting something at him. Mirsad got pissed about that and then Crawford and Renner were squaring up, sticks and gloves flying to ice and fists coming up.

Crawford ducked a hit and got a couple of solid punches in before he wrestled Renner to the ground. They both got dragged apart by referees and forcibly skated toward the penalty boxes. Too bad Crawford wasn’t much of a goal scorer or he’d have a Gordie Howe hat trick.

Tanner shook his head and gathered his helmet, flipping his damp hair off his forehead before he slipped the helmet back on.

He caught a glimpse of a scowling Leif skating away and faltered, wondering if he’d gone too far.

“All Crawford needs now was a goal and he’ll have a Gordie Howe,” Connor said wryly as Tanner skated past him.

Tanner laughed that they’d had the same thought, putting Leif from his mind for now. “If only Crawford was a goal scorer.”

The second period ended before Crawford’s penalty was up.

The mood in the Rockets’ locker room was tense. Nicky gave a small speech about pushing hard in the third and Coach Pittman popped his head in for a few minutes to discuss strategy.

Leif focused on that, unable to think about how things had gone in the second period. How he’d let Tanner get under his skin. How he could have cost his team the game.

Hehadto do better in the third. Nothing mattered but the game. Not Tanner, not his feelings for him.

Just his team. Just their chances at the playoffs.

Thankfully, Ian Salter got a sneaky little goal a few minutes into the third period, bringing the score to 3–1.

Finally, the Rockets were on the board.

The Harriers poured on the speed, forcing the Rockets into their defensive zone. They were out for long shifts, battling with everything they had. They scrambled to keep the puck out of their net but during a messy play in front of Poole’s crease Connor O’Shea managed to poke one in.

4–1.

Leif gripped his stick tightly, sweat stinging his eyes as he raced to the net with the puck. He pulled up hard and jammed it in, muscles screaming, mouth open wide as the goal horn lit up.

4–2.

His teammates piled around him, shaking him and shouting their appreciation. Leif skated to the bench, heart pounding. They were down by two but there were still nearly ten minutes left in the period.

They got a third just a few minutes later, a flukey bounce off Nicky’s stick that Webber did everything to stop. He lay there for a moment, flat on his belly and Leif wondered if he’d been injured.

But no, he was on his feet again and the game resumed.

For the next few minutes it was a battle. No rest. No relief. Just up and down the ice.