登入POV: Gunner and KenseiKensei had to use some strength to get him moving. It was like trying to rip a hungry dog off a fresh bone, but Kensei meant to get him moving in the opposite direction. Promptly. And as far away from the coach as possible.Kensei knew that body language. And Gunner was about to do something very stupid.The coach was still in earshot. If Gunner had continued, he'd more than likely mouth his way into a heap of fines, and worse, end up gone for a long time. Maybe even traded."Get off me," was growled. But it was half-hearted, and Gunner didn't actually pull away.Kensei's grip stayed tight and demanding. It needed to be."That's enough. Let's just cool it for a bit."The team captain's voice wasn't loud, but his command was firm as steel. Gunner wouldn't hear him otherwise. He moved them quickly, guiding the enforcer down the hall with a large arm now secured around his shoulders. He'd half expected Gunner to tear himself out of his hold, but he was too steamed
POV: GunnerThe game had been good but there was one thing that bothered Gunner. Their coach.They'd won the game and he'd looked about as happy as a salmon, which meant he really was happy. But afterwards, along with a pat on the back, the coach had told him casually to ease off the goal-getting so he wouldn't miss the opportunity to enforce and put the opposing team on the defense. He wanted their team to stay healthy. And that sounded reasonable on the surface.He'd said it friendly enough. Just a nudge. But Gunner could read the stuff between the friendly lines. The guy actually meant it. He didn't even want Gunner to bother trying to score, just enforce. And wasn't that just the stupidest type of thinking.It wasn't changing Gunner's game plan one bit, of course. He didn't need to be told how to play hockey. So he would just continue to set out to prove his worth on all fronts. The coach could like it or not.It was just a few games later when the problems started.They'd pulled
POV: GunnerGunner staggered as he struggled to get himself to his feet. Nothing like reeling from the aftershock of a hard hit. He used the crumbled edge of the window frame, hands protected from wayward chunks of debris by thick gloves, to haul himself to his feet, coming up in the open space between the metal posts of the window he'd just taken out.The fans were right there, in his face, with nothing between them, most of them out of their seats and cheering like maniacs. They loved a show.And straight ahead of him, just a few upward steps away, an old woman waved at him and blew him a kiss.Gunner did a sharp double take. He actually met her eyes just long enough to acknowledge her with an awkward nod. No smiles though. Even for a woman who might have reminded him a little of his ma. He was in too much aftershock for smiles. He tried for one, but it turned into a teeth-clenching grimace instead.He was in some pain.When he turned away, he had words for the refs about that hit.
POV: GunnerKhyle had showed up, of course. A little late, and friendly enough, but with that unreadable look in his eye from across the room that Gunner took to mean he still wasn't quite done flipping him the bird yet.Gunner smiled at that.The next few days blew by in a hurry that suited him fine. He and Khyle had no problems working together and reading each other during practice.Practice in general had gone well. No problems to be found. And he'd been cleared to play. That mothballed stuff was done and gone. And it was finally game time again.Purr.Throughout practice, Cooper's teachings, the sense memory of finding his feet against the coach, the rally of resolve from that accomplishment, it had been playing strong in his mind. Before they'd left that day, Cooper had quietly bestowed on him one other detail that Gunner had been curious about. He hadn't elaborated on Khyle's personal stake on the subject, but what he had explained was enough to have Gunner acting like some sor
POV: GunnerGunner rolled through the door of the locker room with an unnatural quiet for someone of his size. And his level of excitement. One corner of his heavy bag clipped the frame on his way through with a dull thud.Beyond that, he didn't announce himself. He purposely hadn't meant to. Because he wouldn't need to. He knew the moment he showed his face in the locker room after a couple of weeks MIA he'd be met with.. . .. . . nothing?The room was as quiet as Shane's bedroom on a Friday night.Most of the team was here, but all the players were in various states of folded-over. It seemed like every one of them was hunched forward to either lace their skates or pick at their gear in some sort of strange tandem.He slowed.A couple of guys looked up. One gave him a brief nod almost devoid of recognition.Gunner's head tipped slowly into a shallow, quizzical lean as he braked and really took in the entire room. He was hardly ten feet inside the doorway, black winter jacket still
POV: GunnerNot cleared to play.Not even practice.That was what the team physician had told him.So what that it had been ten hours ago and he was still processing the news, reclining on his couch. Shirtless, solo, and scowling.Okay, truth was, he wasn't processing anything. He was long done with that. Now he was just sulking and rather comfortable about it at the moment as he watched the Reapers tie their latest away game on the ice that he should be skating on right now. Except no. He'd missed what was supposed to be his first practice, and now he was watching the team play his game tonight on his drop-down flat screen. Again.It wasn't like he didn't have ten different invitations to hang out tonight. Either at his place, or at someone else's pad. Okay, maybe five. But it wasn't like he couldn't walk into any bar in the city and instantly have a fuss made over himself. But he didn't feel like being social tonight, and he sure as hell didn't feel like being fussed over.He was a
POV: Dual, Khyle and GunnerHe came in like weather.The door didn't slam because he didn't slam it. He didn't need to. The quality of his arrival filled the room without requiring any additional punctuation, and the players who had been in the general vicinity of the door dispersed to either side
POV: KhyleGunner Jäger moved through the locker room the way certain animals moved through their natural environment. Not fast, not slow, but with the complete physical confidence of something that had never once had to consider whether it belonged somewhere. He slipped through the cluster of jost
POV: KhyleThe anthem was almost over.Khyle could feel it in the way the crowd was shifting, that collective intake of breath that happened in the last few bars, nineteen thousand people unconsciously bracing themselves for the moment the music stopped and the game began. He'd felt it before, in s
POV: GunnerHe was just finishing pulling a loose fitting navy blue crewneck over his head and tucking the hem into the waistband of his black stonewashed jeans when it happened.The sound reached him before the words did. A swell of crowd noise rolling down the corridor like water finding the lowe







