They kept running-through the front doors of the hotel and into the lobby-all the way to the elevator. Like fighting Jared Shore, or climbing on top of Derek Bishop and kissing him in his bedroom. There wasn’t a single car, but it still made Lane breathless, like he’d done something exciting-something forbidden. They dashed across the road, and it was fine. He kept his gaze firmly on the glowing Econo Lodge sign until Jared said, “Okay. “Tell me when,” he said, and he could feel Jared watching him, but he didn’t look over. Lane nodded, looking with determination at the road. This would make the stupidest obituary ever.”

I’m not used to being drunk twice in one day.” He kept blinking and looking at Jared’s eyes, sucking idly on his lower lip-which was still sore-and thinking about all the things he wanted that he couldn’t have. I expect your defensemen to step up and…. “I’m not going to be nice to you on the ice tomorrow or anything. “You’re all right,” Jared told him while they waited for an opportune time to stupidly dash across the interstate. You think I need to buy you dinner, too?” Lane blushed hotly and reached in his pocket for his money. Jared caught him watching and made some joke about “I already helped save your career, kid. They were long and almost slender, not the kind you’d expect to find on a hockey enforcer. Lane was paying too much attention to Jared’s fingers.

“I have to go back,” he said, and Jared nodded and grabbed his wallet. Their Sunday game was a matinee too, which meant Lane was pretty much fucked all around. They liked to schedule back-to-back games on weekends. He wasn’t drunk, but he was tired, and it occurred to him that the reason Jared was still in town was because they had another game the next day. They split a basket of the steaming-hot chicken things, and Lane had two more beers. Instead, he thought about the two minutes before she opened the door, how they were maybe the best two minutes of his whole life, and how he relived them when he was alone. How she’d closed the door quietly and never said a single word about what she’d seen.

He tried to remind himself of the look on his mother’s face when she opened his bedroom door and saw for herself why her son was so shy around his teammates.

Save of the Game by Avon Gale