Free Hat Trick (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Lynn Tyler Page A

hockey pants. Maybe he should start wearing a T-shirt under his equipment.
    “I put you on the first line so you would smarten up and perform, not so you could get into a tussle. A game’s misconduct, Reiner. What the fuck were you thinking?” The coach’s voice rose with every word until he was shouting at the top of his lungs.
    Jeremy stifled the urge to shout right back at the head coach. “He started it,” he said instead, flinching inwardly at how lame that sounded.
    The other man rubbed his hand over his face wearily. “Yeah, kid, I know. Matheson got a three-game suspension for his trouble. A little harsh, but one of the refs said he heard whatever shit Matheson was spouting at you and didn’t take kindly to what he heard. At least things have gotten better with the other guys, right?”
    Jeremy just stood there, confused beyond belief. This was it? This was all he was going to get? The coach obviously interpreted the look on his face accurately because he pointed right at him. “Don’t think you’ll get away with it next time. Matheson was asking for it. Next time you fight, you got three extra miles for dry land training. Now go hit the showers. You stink, and you’re covered in dry blood.”
    He did as he was told, shedding the rest of his equipment before stepping into the showers. He tilted his head back and let the hot water run through his hair and soothe his sore muscles, happy the doctor had put a waterproof bandage over the stitches so he could bathe properly. Most of the guys were finishing up now and were asking about his meeting with the coach. A few offered invitations to go out for a beer, but Jeremy turned them all down. All he really wanted right now was a soft bed, a warm body next to his, and a couple of ibuprofen. The lidocaine was wearing off, and he was starting to feel the ache in his head.
    Nathan finally walked in, stopping under the showerhead right next to his even though most of the others were now free. Jeremy didn’t miss the speculative looks he got from his other teammates but now they were just looks of curiosity.
    “Yo, Nathan,” Johnston called. “Take care of our boy, yeah? He deserves it.” The goalie walked out of the locker room, snickering about dead horses the whole way.
    Nathan turned his blond head toward Jeremy. “Dead horses?”
    Jeremy couldn’t hold back his own snicker. “He’s a goalie.”
    “Gotcha. Goalies are crazy, especially ours. He’s damn good at what he does though.”
    Jeremy smiled again. It felt good to be treated normally again. “He is at that.”
    They showered in silence for a few minutes, Jeremy shampooing his hair carefully to avoid the bandage. There was no reason to try and dislodge it. He reached for the shelf built into the shower wall and grabbed the conditioner that Rachel had bought for him. He couldn’t help but notice Nathan didn’t have any conditioner. “Why doesn’t Rachel make you use conditioner?”
    Nathan chuckled and rubbed some soap over his wide chest. “My hair is too short. You don’t wanna use it, you need to cut your hair.”
    Jeremy rubbed the slick substance through his hair and thought about having it cut off. He just couldn’t do it. His hairstyle had started off in university as an easy way to rebel against his father, who had insisted on a military type flat-top. Now the style had become a part of him. “I think I’ll stick with using the conditioner, thanks.”
    Nathan looked at him, an assessing look on his face. “Good. I like it long like that.”
    Jeremy shifted uncomfortably and quickly shut off the water. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he wandered back to his locker and put on his street clothes. By this time, only he and Nathan were left in the locker room. He leaned back against Johnston’s locker, hoping like hell he didn’t have a dead horse stashed in it somewhere. He closed his eyes, analyzing his unexpected discomfort.
    Nathan’s offhand comments had never bothered him