Penalty Kill

Harper

Convincing Jake to let me come over to his place after my short shift at the library is done takes nearly an act of god. It's not that he doesn't want me to come, it's that he wants to come pick me up, and take me to his place himself. The gesture is sweet, there's no denying that, but I'm perfectly capable of taking the train after my quick four hours are over.

Mariella is having a meeting to go over what went well at the event, and what we could do differently for next year. It's a chance for the necessary library staff to go over the fine details—things like the amount raised, what we spent, attendance and guest feedback. We do it every year, and it's always productive with the promise of lunch and our favorite treats.

It's only from noon to four, and with Jake's practice wrapping up at 11, that gives me just enough time to get my ass to the library right on time—with the help of Jake and his very nice, conveniently speedy car. 

Standing just outside the locker room, Jake was spot on about getting the rest of my donuts snapped up by players and staff leaving the rink. As I stood waiting for Jake to come out with only two sweets to get rid of, I'm surprised to watch as his coach approaches me from down the hallway.

Dan Thornston is intimidating. I've seen a handful of games, and he's got a devastatingly mean leer from behind the bench. He constantly looks like he's ready to tear someone a new one, even when the Storm are winning. I've never seen him smile, and having him stand a few feet in front of me right now is no exception to his domineering presence.

I stand motionless as he eyes the two remaining sprinkled donuts with no emotion whatsoever. He makes a "tsk" sound, expressing his displeasure with what choices he has left. When his hand reaches up to take the pink one, I realize I'm holding my breath. His eyes finally snap to mine after he's obtained his fried dough circle, and I'm not shocked to find his stare as intense as ever.

"Bryers is the heart of this team, whether he realizes it or not. He's had a rough go of it, for far longer than he deserves. He's been better recently, more himself than I've seen in quite a few seasons."

I'm frozen as he stares me down, each word stunning me further with what he's implying. Lifting the pink circle up to his clean-shaven face, he takes a bite, his bright blue eyes locked onto me even as he chews.

"Not once have I seen him with anyone outside of his family. The fact that you showed up today and he lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center says something." His face suddenly grows more serious, if that's possible, and he leans in a little closer to drive whatever point he's about to make home as hard as he can.

"Don't fuck with him. If you're in, you're in. If you're out, you're out. I've never met a man more deserving of what a lot of the players on this team have, and he certainly doesn't need to be fucked with at this point in his career. Understood?"

He hasn't asked for my name, hasn't asked how we met, nothing. He simply took a donut from me, and warned me—I don't think it was really a threat, but it definitely toed the line—to not emotionally dismantle the seasoned veteran on his team. All I can do is nod, and before I know it, he's gone.

Blinking, stupefied at what just happened to me, because I didn't even say a single word to the man, I try to gather my composure before Jake comes out. It's just as another player takes the last donut along with the box from my hands that I hear Jake's voice coming from the depths of the locker room. A flood of relief washes through my chest as he finally walks into the hallway, his smile beaming as he takes me in.

"Told you those donuts wouldn't stand a chance with so many constantly ravenous brutes on stakes around, huh Chirpy?"

He's got a backwards hat tugged on over his still-damp hair, along with a dark blue Storm sweatshirt and gray joggers that fit him perfectly. Whatever lingering discomfort remains after his coach had just barraged me with thinly veiled threats dissipates as Jake tugs me into him. He wraps his arm around my lower back and reaches down to kiss me, a lovely waft of his cologne and shower-fresh scent flooding my senses.