Rules of the Game #1
Rule #1: Hockey Comes First
As NHL team captain, Zane Murphy’s goal for the upcoming season is simple: take the Evanston River Otters all the way to the Stanley Cup.
Rule #2: Only On the Road
But an unexpectedly hot night with his best friend and teammate Ryan Hartinger throws Zane’s carefully laid plans and his sexuality into disarray.
Rule #3: Don’t Fall in Love with Your Best Friend
When feelings begin to creep in, Zane will have to decide if he’s willing to throw out the rules and risk his career and his friendship for a chance at winning it all.
Note: Road Rules was previously published as a 45k word novella on Prolific Works and has since been expanded into a full length 87k word novel.
ZANE & RYAN
“You miss 100% of the shots you never take.” – Wayne Gretzky
PROLOGUE
“That was a sick goal at the end of the second period, man.”
Zane Murphy looked away from the NHL game on the TV screen to smile at his new road roommate. “Thanks. Your pass was a beauty.”
“I’ve gotcha tape to tape, my dude. Tape to tape.”
Zane gave him an amused glance. He still wasn’t sure what to make of Ryan Hartinger.
They were only a few weeks into the season and Ryan was a freshman player. He was a solid winger and a great locker-room guy. He had an infectious energy on and off the ice and so far, Zane was pretty pleased to have him as a liney.
He was a little less sure how he felt about rooming with him on the road though.
Ryan reminded him of a not-very-well-trained golden retriever.
And he talked. A lot.
“Keep it up and hopefully we’ll have a better season this year than last,” Zane said with a sigh as he glanced back at the Boston vs. Dallas game.
Last season, the University of Michigan’s ice hockey team had been knocked out of the Frozen Four in the first round to a school that shouldn’t have been able to beat them. It still stung.
If only he’d gotten that last goal in the net instead of the puck bouncing off the post like that …
“If we keep it up, maybe someday we’ll be playing there,” Ryan said, nodding at the TV.
“God, I hope so.” Zane didn’t even try to hide the longing in his voice.
“Hey, you’ve already been drafted by the Otters. You’ve got a great shot at it.”
Zane settled back against the headboard of the hotel room bed, trying to push down the warm glow that settled in his chest at the thought of his draft day last summer. The Otters were a newer NHL expansion team in the Chicago Illinois area and Zane was itching to play for them.
He’d been watching Anders Lindholm—their top line center—burn up the league for years with Boston and a shot at playing on a team with him was everything.
Some guys Zane knew had called him crazy for planning to finish his degree first but his parents were pretty strongly in favor of him earning one in case the NHL didn’t work out, and Zane understood that.
Besides, U of M’s team was so fucking good. Zane had gotten a ton of experience, dialed in his game, and felt much more seasoned as a player than he had a few years ago. And he was looking forward to another shot at the college hockey championship this year.
It meant he’d probably have to spend less time bouncing between the Otters and their AHL affiliate. He hoped so anyway.
“Yeah, but there’s no guarantees,” Zane argued. “Anything could happen. I could get injured or wash out.”
“Sure. That might happen. But what if it doesn’t?” Ryan said, twisting to face him, crossing his long legs.
Ryan was tall—he had a couple of inches on Zane—and he looked like he could stand to put on at least another twenty pounds. Although with as hard as he trained off-ice and the amount of food he packed away, Zane didn’t doubt he’d get there.
Despite the huge, protein-heavy dinner they’d eaten, he was snacking now, shoveling chips into his mouth like someone was going to snatch them away.
“If I make it there …” Zane contemplated the idea, picturing scoring his first goal on NHL ice. “Then I’ll be really, really lucky.”
“Hey, it’s not all luck,” Ryan said, unusually serious. “You work hard for it.”
“I try.” But Zane always felt like he could do more. Work harder. Be better.
“Everyone knows it. The team loves you, the coaches love you, the fans love you …” Ryan waggled his eyebrows. “Sara loves you.”
Zane shrugged, a little uncomfortable at the praise. He looked back at the screen. “Yeah, Sara’s amazing. I’m lucky to have her.”
“She seems crazy about you too. She’s always at the home games cheering for you.”
“She’s a great girl,” Zane said with a smile, but it fell as he thought about the argument they’d gotten into last night. “But we kinda …”
“Kinda what?”
“Ahh, nothing.” Zane took a swig of water from the bottle nearby.
“Naw, what’s up, man? You can talk to me about anything. Whatever happens in this room won’t leave it, I promise.”
Ryan’s tone was earnest, the covers rustling as he shifted. Zane smiled to himself as he glanced over at the other bed to see Ryan facing the TV, sprawled out against the headboard.
He must have been able to tell Zane didn’t want to have this conversation face-to-face.
He was weirdly intuitive that way.
At first Zane had thought Ryan didn’t have much going on in his head other than hockey, but he read guys really well. On and off the ice. Zane assumed that was why they’d clicked so fast on a line together. Ryan could read Zane and see what he was about to do before Zane did it.
But they hadn’t talked a whole lot personally. It had mostly been surface stuff about family and what they were studying or whatever.
Zane definitely didn’t know Ryan well enough to have this conversation, but he found the words spilling out anyway, comforted by the promise that what they discussed wouldn’t spread to the rest of the team.
“She got pretty upset with me last night because she feels like I’m not around enough and—”
“Dude, you’re playing hockey and going to school. You’ve only got so many hours in the day.”
“Right?” Zane said, grateful that Ryan understood.
“And like, you’ve gotta spend time with the team too.”
“Exactly. And I want to spend time with her; I just can’t be around 24/7, you know?”
Zane sometimes envied the guys in his business classes who weren’t playing sports. They didn’t get up at ass o’clock for practice and travel for games. Hell, even some of the guys on his team were less serious about it than Zane.
But he had a dream of making it to the NHL and nothing could get in the way of that.
“No, I get it,” Ryan said. He crunched another chip.
“And I try to be a good boyfriend,” Zane said, feeling defensive. “I send her texts and flowers to let her know I’m thinking of her. I call her when we’re at away games, even if it’s just for a few minutes. When I am with her, I turn off my phone and give her all my attention. I don’t know what more she wants, but I sort of feel like I’m failing as a boyfriend and it sucks.”
“That seems pretty good to me,” Ryan said with a shrug. “I dunno man.”
“She accused me of calling her clingy—which, dude, I definitely did not do. I’m not an idiot—”
“Debatable,” Ryan teased.
“Rude.” Zane threw a pillow at him, but he was laughing. “Anyway, I don’t know what else to do. You ever have that problem?”
“Not having enough time for my girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure. But I don’t really get serious much anymore. Honestly, I’m kind of the clingy one in a relationship. I’m the one whining that I’m lonely and miss them.” He let out a little laugh but it sounded awkward. “I dunno. Guys chirp me about it, but it’s just kind of how I’m wired, you know?”
Zane smiled at the TV. “No, I bet girls love that.”
“Ehh, not so much. Or at least not the ones I’ve dated. My high school girlfriend accused me of smothering her, but I hate being away from someone I’m with. Plus, I always feel like a relationship takes my focus off the game so I just decided I’m not gonna get serious with anyone while I’m playing.”
“Yeah, but what if you …”
“Make it to The Show?” Ryan nodded at the screen. “Oh, I think I’ll do alright picking girls up in bars then.”
Zane laughed. He’d seen Ryan out wheeling. It didn’t take much for him to pick up. He wasn’t bad looking, with curly blond hair and bright blue eyes the girls seemed to like.
But it was his charm that won them over every time. Apparently people were into goofy golden retrievers.
Zane laughed. “Not my scene, I guess.”
“Hookups?”
“Yeah.” Zane looked down at his hands. “Before, when I was single, I did it sometimes, but it’s kind of a struggle. I always feel awkward. I guess I’m old-fashioned or something. I want to have a connection to someone first. Guys razz me about that but …”
“No, nothing wrong with that,” Ryan said earnestly. “You gotta do what works for you. And hey, sounds like a relationship’s perfect for you then.”
Ryan was so nice about it, but Zane always felt out of step with his team. The other guys were all about the one-night stands and quick and dirty hookups but the thought made Zane’s guts squirm with discomfort.
He’d never looked at a girl and thought, “I have to have her.”
For him, attraction had always been slow to develop, friendships that turned into crushes and eventually dating. He’d tried the bar hookup thing a few times but it never went very well and both he and the girl he was with always left the encounter a little frustrated.
It was good with Sara though. They’d been dating for almost a year now and while their sex life had taken a little while to find its groove, it only got better the longer they were together.
Zane hated that she felt neglected.
He sighed. “Maybe I’m just bad at being someone’s boyfriend.”
“Aww.” The bed creaked as Ryan stood, then walked over to take a seat beside Zane. He slung an arm around Zane and pulled him in for a quick hard hug. “No, don’t think that, man. You’re great. Any girl would be lucky to have you.”
“Thanks,” Zane said, a little more roughly than he’d intended, but Ryan’s earnestness was kind of sweet and it felt way less awkward to unload his feelings to him than it did with most of his teammates. “I bet you’ll make someone really happy someday too, man.”
“You know it.” Ryan shifted, pulling away and getting comfortable beside him. “I’ll be the best boyfriend ever.”
Zane snorted at Ryan’s confidence though he felt chilled with the weight of Ryan’s arm gone.
A moment later, Ryan shifted closer, their hips touching, his body a warm, long line beside Zane on the bed as they watched the game.
Zane relaxed, a little of the tension in him unspooling.
He looked over and studied Ryan’s profile, taking in his strong jaw, the proud slope of his nose, and the wild mess of his curly hair for a moment, smiling at the fact that the world seemed a little lighter than it had ten minutes ago.
But when he turned back to the game, he shook his head at the score.
God, it was boring and Zane rarely said that about anything to do with hockey. There was always something he could learn from it but this one was six minutes into the second period and still scoreless. Neither team had any energy and they looked like they were just going through the motions.
His thoughts wandered back to their conversation about relationships.
“So you do want something serious someday then?” Zane asked, curious.
Zane knew guys who claimed they were never going to settle down but Ryan didn’t really seem like the type.
“Sure.” Ryan glanced over. “I want a family and kids and all that in the future. But that’s … way in the future. After hockey. For now, I’m just gonna focus on the game and having some fun. I don’t want to fall in love with someone I have to be away from all the time, you know?”
Zane could see that. It made sense, although he’d never really considered the idea before. He assumed that if he and Sara could figure out the stuff that wasn’t going well right now, they’d probably end up engaged.
He felt bad he wasn’t there for her more though. And his life was only going to get crazier. He’d have to focus more on hockey.
All he could hope was that she’d understand how important the game was to him.
* * *
“We should grab a drink tonight,” Ryan said as he and Zane left their apartment.
“We have a game tomorrow,” Zane reminded him.
Zane had been reminding Ryan of things like that for the past year and a half.
But Ryan had gotten pretty good at coaxing him into having a little bit of fun. Left to his own devices, Ryan’s team captain could be a little boring.
Zane was Ryan’s best friend but he was also kind of a stick-in-the-mud sometimes. It made Ryan unreasonably fond of him.
“One drink,” Ryan countered.
“With you it always turns into two,” Zane said with a laugh, jabbing his elbow into Ryan’s ribs. “Or six.”
Ryan grinned, dancing away. “I’ll be good. I swear.”
“Hmm.” Zane’s tone was skeptical as he walked around to the driver’s side of his car. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Hey, you wanna grab coffee this morning?” Ryan asked ten minutes later as they approached downtown Ann Arbor.
“I need to call Sara real quick,” Zane said with a grimace as he glanced at the time. He always liked to get there early. “Meet you at the rink?”
“Sure. Drop me off at the coffee shop and I’ll walk the rest of the way?” Ryan gestured to their favorite cafe coming up on the right.
“Sounds good. Get me a—”
“Flat white with skim. Dude. I’ve got it. You order the same thing every time,” Ryan said with a laugh as Zane slowed to a stop, someone behind them honking in annoyance but there was no way to pull over with all the curbside parking taken. “See you at the rink in a bit.”
The coffee shop was pretty busy and Ryan waited in line, trying not to fidget with impatience as he half-listened to the conversations around him. There were a couple of guys talking about some engineering project and some dude in a suit, whispering heatedly into his phone about closing a deal.
“God, you are so playing with fire, Sara,” a girl said with a giggle, her voice loud enough to cut through the buzz of conversation around Ryan. It sounded like she was right next to him, and her voice was vaguely familiar but when he glanced over he couldn’t see through the back of the nearby booths. “Juggling two guys at once! What if they find out about each other?”
She snorted. “They won’t. Zane’s so wrapped up in hockey he barely knows I exist.”
Ryan froze, his whole body going numb. He hadn’t recognized the first girl but he definitely knew Sara’s voice. She was over at their apartment often enough.
And well, that last sentence left no doubt.
Ryan’s stomach sank as he realized what her friend had said.
“Why are you with Zane anyway?” she continued. “Didn’t you say he was kind of a dud in the sack?”
“No, it just took him a while to warm up to the idea,” Sara said with a little laugh. “He took so long to get me in bed I was starting to think he was more turned on by hockey than me.”
“It’s better now though?”
“Oh yeah. Definitely. But I’m still sick of feeling like I always come second to the damn game.”
Anger rose in Ryan, sharp and hot. He wanted to storm over and lay into her but he was paralyzed by the horror of hearing his best friend’s life falling apart. Ryan could do nothing but stand there, heart pounding, listening to Sara spill her guts.
“Sometimes I just need to feel wanted, you know? Like I’m actually a priority.”
“So why not just date someone else then? You seem pretty into Mike.”
Mike who?Who is she talking about? But it was impossible to guess. There were probably dozens of guys on campus with that name. Maybe hundreds. It was a huge school.
Hell, there were two on the team roster.
“Mike’s definitely not the kind of guy you settle down with, May. He doesn’t have the kind of future Zane does. He’s just … fun. It’s nice to have a dude who will drop everything for me, you know? I mean, his schedule’s still a pain in the ass but he makes me a priority. Zane is just so damn serious about his training and being a good captain and all that shit. The team and the game always come first for him and Mike’s just way more chill about everything.”
“Sure, I get that.”
“I dunno, May. Like, yeah, I want a guy who is going to be a great husband and father someday. Zane is the super-smart choice. He’s responsible and committed and all that. But fuck, I’m only twenty. It’s like Zane is all determined to lock me down and get me wifed up before he heads to the NHL and I just … want to have fun, you know? He never wants to go to parties and he never has more than a drink or two because there’s always a game and he’s just so fucking uptight and rigid about everything. He won’t even let me sleep over on nights before the game.”
“But you do want to marry him someday?”
“Oh sure. I mean, I think we’ll probably have a super long engagement or whatever but once I’m actually ready to settle down I’ll already have the perfect guy, you know?”
White-hot fury erupted in Ryan’s chest as he rounded the corner of the booth, staring at Zane’s soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, unable to hold his temper any longer.
“Yeah, you just blew any chance of that,” he said coldly, narrowing his eyes. “He’s gonna be pissed when I tell him about what you just said.”
“Shit.” Sara sprang to her feet, scrambling to get out from behind the table. “It wasn’t what it sounded like, Ryan.”
“So you’re not cheating on my best friend?” he snarled. “And stringing him along until you’re ready for commitment?”
“I mean …” She laughed weakly. “It was all totally a joke, right, May?”
May shot an uneasy glance at Ryan. “Right.”
“I’ll be sure to mention that to him. Somehow, I don’t think he’ll find it very funny.”
Without another word, Ryan stalked out of the coffee shop, the jangle of the bell over the door setting his teeth on edge. He jogged down State Street, blindly dodging people walking slowly down the sidewalk, then nearly getting hit by a car when he crossed a side street.
He was flushed and a little sweaty by the time he approached the arena, the fifteen-minute walk cut in half by his quick pace.
Zane was waiting outside the arena, staring at his phone. He glanced up, his look of concentration melting into a warm smile, which slowly fell.
“Hey, what’s up?” Zane tucked his phone in the pocket of his sweats, frowning at Ryan. “Where are our coffees? And why do you look like we just lost the most important game of our lives?”
“Fuck.” Ryan paced, agitation building in him as he tried to figure out how to tell Zane what he’d overheard. “I have shitty news and I don’t know how to break it to you.”
“You’re leaving me to go play in the KHL?” Zane joked, though the edge of worry lurked around the corners of his eyes and his half-hearted smile.
“Uh, way worse than going to play for the Russian League.” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “I was waiting in line to order the coffees when I overheard Sara and May talking.”
“Oh, that’s why she didn’t answer.” His expression fell, brow furrowing. “Shit, is she okay? Did something happen to her?”
Zane sounded so genuinely worried about her that Ryan’s heart broke at having to destroy all his illusions about what kind of person she was and how she felt about him.
“Uhm, she’s fine. But … I … look I don’t know how to say this but she’s been hooking up with someone else behind your back.”
“What?” Zane’s voice went hoarse. “I don’t … what? Did you see them?”
“No. She was just talking to May about it.”
“Are you sure you heard right? Maybe she …”
Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t mishear. And uh, it gets worse.”
“Worse? How does it get worse than finding out my girlfriend has been sleeping with some other dude?” Zane asked bitterly.
“Well …” Ryan told him what she’d said about their future and the shuddering sigh Zane let out made Ryan’s heart ache for his friend.
Zane scrubbed his hands across his face. “God, I never thought she was like that. I mean, I knew our relationship wasn’t perfect but I loved her. I trusted her and … how could she do this?”
He sounded so hurt and betrayed that Ryan wanted to run back to that coffee shop and lay into Sara all over again but not hold back anything this time. Tell her exactly what he thought of her.
Maybe Zane was a little stodgy and boring sometimes but that was totally part of his charm. How could you not love a guy like that?
Besides, he cared more than anyone Ryan had ever met.
Zane had loved Sara and thought she was the real deal.
He worked so hard at everything he did and Ryan knew how much he’d wanted this relationship with Sara to be good. He’d tried so hard to make her happy. And she’d treated him like shit.
She should feel lucky to be with a guy like Zane. He deserved someone so much better than her though.
“I don’t know man,” Ryan said softly. “I don’t get it.”
“I’ve heard guys talk about that happening but I thought it was like … dudes just being dicks, you know? I didn’t really think there were people who actually strung you along that way.”
Ryan nodded. He’d thought the same thing. No one was really that callous and uncaring, were they?
“I’m sorry, man,” he said aloud, feeling helpless, hating that he didn’t have the right words to say to make this better for Zane.
Zane swallowed hard and gave him a half-hearted shrug. “It’s … I don’t know. At least it was you breaking the news. I don’t even know what I’d have done if I’d overheard their conversation.”
He sniffed, looking up at the sky.
Ryan stayed quiet, giving him a moment to pull himself together.
“Probably embarrassed myself crying in public,” Zane said with a rough laugh, blinking a little.
“No shame in crying in front of me, man.” Ryan said, giving him a one-armed hug. “I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” Zane smiled weakly, then sagged against him, leaning his head against Ryan’s shoulder for a moment, the tickle of his soft, thick hair brushing Ryan’s neck sending a little shiver down Ryan’s spine.
“Anything for you,” Ryan promised earnestly. “You know that, right?”
“Of course.” Zane straightened, his palm warm as he patted Ryan’s back. “I’m lucky to have you, man.”
“You wanna head home? I can tell coach you’re feeling under the weather.”
“Nah.” Zane stepped away, mustering a weak smile. “It’ll be good to be on the ice. I can put this shit out of my mind and just focus on hockey.”
“Sure, okay,” Ryan said slowly. He was surprised Zane wasn’t more pissed. But maybe he was in shock and it hadn’t sunk in quite yet. “We better book it then or we’re gonna be late.”
“Right.” Zane cleared his throat. “We’ve got some hockey to play.”
* * *
“Fuck her,” Zane said venomously, tossing a pile of designer clothes off the balcony, feeling a surge of satisfaction as they flew through the air, fluttering to the grass below from the second story. The moment they’d gotten out of practice, white-hot fury had taken over and he’d stormed over to her apartment to beg for an explanation.
But she’d had none.
At least none that he would buy. She’d cried and pled and tried to argue it wasn’t true. She’d eventually said that Ryan had lied about the whole thing and made up the entire conversation.
But that was ludicrous.
No, Ryan had nothing to gain by telling him about what happened. And Sara had everything to lose.
The betrayal was bad enough but to throw Ryan under the bus that way, to try to lay the blame on him disgusted Zane.
He was still furious when he came back to the apartment and he’d ripped open the closets and dresser drawers, clearing Sara’s stuff out. She hadn’t been living with him but she had a hell of a lot of clothes here.
“What the fuck?” he continued as he tossed more of her crap off the balcony. “Who does shit like that?”
Ryan shrugged and handed Zane another pile. “Someone who doesn’t deserve you.”
Zane paused and looked at Ryan, his breath catching at the earnestness in his voice. “You think so? This isn’t my fault because I—”
“Dude, no. You did nothing to deserve this.”
But Zane wondered. Maybe if he’d been a better boyfriend, Sara wouldn’t have been tempted to hook up with someone else. Maybe if he’d been more exciting … maybe if he’d wanted to go out more or paid more attention to her …
“I dunno. Maybe if she’d been happier …”
“Fuck no. That’s on her,” Ryan said, as stubbornly loyal as always.
A surge of gratitude went through Zane. If he’d ever wondered if Ryan was the best friend a guy could ever have, he didn’t doubt it now.
“She could have broken up with you,” Ryan continued. “She was trying to use you and that’s shitty. I know tons of amazing, loyal girls who would never dream of pulling shit like that. She was just a horrible person.”
Zane swallowed hard. “Did I tell you I was thinking about proposing before I left for the Otters?”
Ryan stilled. “Shit, really?”
“Yeah.” Zane let out a bitter laugh. “Hadn’t bought a ring or anything yet but I was gonna ask if you’d help me pick one out. Guess I was playing right into her little plans.”
He half-heartedly tossed another pile of clothes in his hands onto the sidewalk below then turned back, hating the stricken look on Ryan’s face. It made his throat go thick and he sighed and slid to the balcony floor, his back against the railing.
“Fuck! I feel like such an idiot.”
“Hey, no. Look at me.”
Zane tipped his head back as Ryan crouched in front of him, taking his hands, his palms warm and a little rough from callouses, just like Zane’s were.
“This isn’t on you. I swear to God, if you blame yourself, I’m gonna drop you over this balcony to knock some sense into you.”
Zane sniffed, laughing a little despite the heaviness in his chest. “You won’t. You need me in one piece to win.”
Ryan laughed. “You’re right. I won’t. But man, don’t beat yourself up over someone who isn’t worth it. And trust me, she definitely isn’t.”
“Guess not,” Zane said dully.
“Now, c’mon. We’re gonna go make sure all her shit is out of here and then we’re gonna get our drink on.” Ryan stood, tugging on Zane’s hand to follow.
“I don’t feel like going out,” he admitted, but he let Ryan pull him to his feet.
“Duh. I know you, man. Who said anything about going out? I picked up a fifth of whiskey and I figure we can order pizza and watch some dumb movies or something.”
“That’s not exactly on the training plan,” Zane protested weakly, but it actually sounded pretty good.
“Fuck the training plan. This is therapy.”
Zane laughed and let Ryan pull him to his feet. “Yeah, okay. But if I play like shit at practice tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal.” Ryan slung an arm around his shoulder and Zane leaned into him, soaking up Ryan’s warmth.
In the nearly two full seasons they’d played together, Ryan had packed on muscle and was bigger than Zane. It felt good to lean on him and let the rest of the world disappear.
At least Zane never had to worry if he could trust Ryan.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you when I go to the Otters,” Zane muttered.
They were rapidly approaching the end of the season and after they played in the Frozen Four, he’d join the Otters and begin to burn out his entry-level contract. He’d finish the rest of his classes online over the summer.
Some teams—including the Otters—had expressed interest in Ryan but his December birthday had made him ineligible for last summer’s draft.
They wouldn’t really know what Ryan was doing until the draft at the end of this coming June.
“Hey, wherever we end up playing, I’ve got you,” Ryan promised and pressed a kiss to the top of Zane’s hair. He did it all the time in the locker room after a good game, but Zane was usually wearing a hat and feeling it in this situation was different.
It was warmer … more personal.
Zane ducked his head, his face heating at the feeling, the anger fading away in the face of Ryan’s steadfast loyalty.
Sara’s betrayal had cut deep but thank God he had Ryan. Zane had no idea what he’d do without him.
“Okay, man,” he said with a sigh. “Gimme a drink. I don’t want to remember any of this tomorrow.”
* * *
The following morning at practice, Zane wanted to curl up in a ball and die.
The anger had disappeared with the clothes he’d tossed and now he was numb with a throbbing head and queasy stomach.
Ryan’s version of therapy had helped though.
Zane had huddled up with Ryan on the couch, drinking steadily, eating greasy pizza and watching stupid action movies. Zane hadn’t been able to forget what happened but it had taken his mind off shit for a while at least.
Now, he was grateful for hockey.
On the ice there were no cheating ex-girlfriends. Just his team and the game. That was what he needed to focus on.
Maybe Ryan was onto something with the whole not-dating thing.
The guys milled around the ice, warming up a little as they waited for their coach to come out.
Ryan was across the ice talking to a trainer about a blade issue when Mike MacCormack skated up to Zane.
“I’m sorry, man.” Zane looked at the defenseman in confusion “About Sara I mean.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Zane said dully as he made a slow loop around Mac.
He was surprised any of the guys had said anything. He was pretty sure Ryan had told them all to keep their mouths shut, knowing he’d hate the pity.
“No, I mean it. I had no idea. I shouldn’t have …”
Zane’s head snapped up and he stared at Mac, dread pooling in his stomach as the pieces tumbled together, revealing an ugly picture of what had happened.
“What?” he asked hoarsely, hoping he was wrong.
Mac looked miserable. “She said you guys were breaking up and …”
Fury rose in him. “You were the one who slept with her? What the fuck, man?”
“I’m sorry. I fucked up and—”
Zane lunged at Mac, knocking them both to the ground.
They grappled and as they rolled on the ice, Zane got Mac’s helmet off. He reared back and landed a punch on Mac’s jaw. He hardly felt the pain in his knuckles over the roaring in his ears.
Dimly, he heard their teammates yelling and the bellow of their coach in the background. He pulled back again but Mac rolled at the last second and Zane’s fist connected with the ice.
Needle-sharp pain shot from his hand up his arm, stealing his breath and making his vision go white.
Someone clasped their arms around Zane’s chest and hauled him to his feet. He fought the grip off, letting out a frustrated grunt at being pulled away.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him!” he shouted.
“The fuck you are,” Ryan snarled, his breath hot in Zane’s ear. “I am not letting you screw up your NHL chances.”
“Shit.” All the fight went out of Zane at that and he sagged back against Ryan’s body, his hand throbbing with pain. “Shit. What did I do?”
* * *
Ryan unlocked the door to their apartment later that night, stomach twisted with apprehension. He hadn’t wanted to leave Zane home alone after the trip to the hospital for x-rays but he’d had an exam that night.
He knew he’d bombed it but it was done and at this point he didn’t care one way or another.
He was more concerned about Zane. He had a broken right metacarpal, and a three-game suspension. His agent had warned him that since he wasn’t signed yet, the franchise would want to review the situation. They wouldn’t have cared if he got into an on-ice fight during a game but going after a teammate during practice made them worried Zane would be an ongoing disciplinary problem.
He was a top prospect with a stellar record but there was always the chance the league would want to make an example of him.
Zane was terrified of losing his future and Ryan wasn’t going to be walking into a pretty picture tonight.
Ryan’s only consolation was that after he’d pulled Zane away from Mac, Ryan had landed a solid punch that was sure to leave Mac with a broken nose and what would probably be two black eyes.
A reminder to him that if he fucked with Zane, he fucked with Ryan too.
Ryan’s hand still ached a little but he was a better fighter than Zane would ever be and ice and over-the-counter painkillers would take care of it. The asshole deserved more of a beatdown but Ryan wasn’t about to screw up his pro hockey chances either.
He hadn’t gone through the draft yet so as long as he kept his nose clean until then, he’d probably be fine. If he got called out about it, he’d have to do some fast talking but he’d deal with that later.
In the meantime, he felt good about having his buddy’s back.
Now, the apartment was dark and Ryan softly called out Zane’s name as he crossed through the empty living room.
Zane’s bedroom door was open but Ryan knocked on it anyway. “Hey, you in here?”
There was a quiet groan and Ryan stepped into the room. Light streamed in through the open blinds and Zane was slumped on the floor, leaning against the bed, head tilted back to rest on the mattress.
A half-empty whiskey bottle lay beside him, the room thick with the sharp smell of alcohol.
“Oh, buddy what did you do?” Ryan whispered, praying Zane hadn’t also taken the painkillers the hospital had given him. He didn’t think he’d intentionally hurt himself but if he was feeling really low or just wanted to numb out …
When Ryan clicked on the light on the nightstand, he spotted the pill bottle.
It was closed and Ryan twisted the lid open, carefully counting out the pills. Just one missing. The one he’d taken hours ago.
Relief washed through Ryan and he set the bottle down and crouched beside his best friend, smoothing his thick dark hair off his sweaty forehead.
Just drunk then. Thank God.
“Ryan?” Zane lifted his head with what appeared to be great effort. His eyes were red-rimmed and bleary.
“I’m here,” Ryan croaked, heart still beating way too fast. “You doing okay?”
He clearly wasn’t but Ryan didn’t know what else to say to someone who’d been through so much in the past 24 hours.
“It’s broken, Ryan,” Zane said, cradling his cast against his chest.
His breath reeked of whiskey and when he looked up at Ryan with pleading eyes, the pain in them made Ryan’s heart ache.
“I know, buddy.” Ryan cupped Zane’s cheek and brushed his thumb across the wetness there.
“What if I never play again?” Zane’s eyes were so big, the blue nearly swallowed up by the dark of his pupils. “What if I never make it to the NHL?”
“You will,” Ryan promised, still cradling his face, rubbing his thumbs in soothing little circles, desperate to make Zane feel better.
“You promise?”
“I promise,” Ryan said firmly. He’d move heaven and earth to make it happen.
“Thanks.” Zane let out a shuddering sigh, his eyelashes dipping, dark and spiky from earlier tears. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Hey, you’re never gonna have to find out,” Ryan promised. “It’s you and me, Murph. Always.”
“But—”
“Shh,” Ryan soothed, trailing his thumb down Zane’s face, the stubble tickling. “No matter what, okay? I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen. You trust me, right?”
He brushed the pad of his thumb across Zane’s lips and he parted them, staring up at Ryan with such an aching, needy look that Ryan felt a strange tremor go through him.
“Always,” Zane said hoarsely. “You’re the only one I trust.”
Throat thick, Ryan leaned in, tilting his head until their foreheads rested together, swallowing hard at the strange energy buzzing through his body.
“We’ve got a great future ahead of us, okay? We’re gonna play in the NHL someday. We’ll be together on a line just like we are now.”
“Hartinger and Murphy,” Zane whispered, his voice slurring a little, his whiskey-laced breath gusting against Ryan’s mouth.
“Exactly. Hartinger and Murphy,” Ryan repeated like a promise and Zane let out a shuddering little sigh. “You and me until the end.”
Zane reached up with his uninjured hand, grasping the front of Ryan’s shirt. “I love you, you know that, right?”
“I know.” Ryan swallowed thickly. “I love you too, man.”
“You’re the only person I can trust,” he repeated. “I can’t lose you.”
“I’ll never let you down.”
“I know. You’re … you’re so good, Ryan. You’re the best,” he said thickly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’re never gonna have to find out.” Ryan pressed a kiss to Zane’s forehead, letting his lips linger a moment, the action as much of a promise as his words had been.
Sunday Sport Stats
Rules of the Game
Relationship Goals
Brigham Vaughn
Brigham Vaughn is on the adventure of a lifetime as a full-time writer. She devours books at an alarming rate and hasn’t let her short arms and long torso stop her from doing yoga. She makes a killer key lime pie, hates green peppers, and loves wine tasting tours. A collector of vintage Nancy Drew books and green glassware, she enjoys poking around in antique shops and refinishing thrift store furniture. An avid photographer, she dreams of traveling the world and she can’t wait to discover everything else life has to offer her.
EMAIL: brighamvaughn@gmail.com
Road Rules #1
Rules of the Game Series
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