Page 78 of Tough Call

“That’s good.”

“It is. So now we can get back to what we do best—keeping unruly hockey players in line.”

I scoffed with mock indignance. “Unruly? Rude!”

Connor shrugged. “Am I wrong?”

“I mean…” I quirked my lips. “Okay, you’re not wrong, but you and your boys really do take the fun out of things sometimes.”

God, I loved the way this man laughed. It took all I had just to keep my eyes on the road because all I wanted to do was stare at Connor like a lovesick kid.

“We really are such jerks,” he said, still laughing. “Not letting you guys fight, or trip each other, or slash each other.” He tsked and probably rolled his eyes. “Such assholes.”

“Yep. All of you.”

He chuckled and elbowed me. I elbowed him back.

“Imagine if you didn’t have us,” he said. “It would be a literal bloodbath.”

“It would be entertaining.”

“Uh-huh. Right up until someone tripped you, knocked your teeth out, and then scored.”

“At which point he’d get his ass kicked,” I countered. “And since there’d be no refs to break us up or keep us from really beating his ass, he’d know better than to put himself in that situation.”

“Do hockey players really have that much foresight? Do they really? Because from what I’ve seen…”

“Hey. Hey.” I elbowed him again. “Watch it.”

“Or what? You’ll sass me on your way to the penalty box like every other hockey player on the planet?”

“Probably.”

We both laughed as I continued driving.

“Eh, you all aren’t that bad,” I conceded. “Sometimes I’m surprised you don’t give us more penalties for some of the things we do.”

“You and me both,” he muttered. “Especially the way some of you boys like to mouth off.”

“I would never.”

Connor coughed, “Bullshit.”

I gave him the finger. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Drumming my thumbs on the wheel, I chuckled as a memory crossed my mind. “Oh. One of my teammates got into a fight… I think it was last season? The one before? Anyway, they’re going at it, and the other guy pulls his jersey over his head.” I chuckled. “My friend goes to punch the guy he was fighting with, but of course he can’t see, and⁠—”

“He punched the ref, didn’t he?” Connor asked with a laugh.

“Right across the face.”

Connor whistled. “Bet that went over well.”

“No, it did not. I say the refs kinda deserved it for pulling them apart. They both needed their asses kicked.”

“Including your teammate?”

I nodded. “Good guy, don’t get me wrong, but he was becoming a shitbag on the ice. He’d done some cheap shots and dirty hits the last couple of times we played that team.” With a half-shrug, I added, “He kind of had it coming.”

“Yeah, that happens. But hitting the ref isn’t a good idea.”