Being with the Rumbles brought him joy, but assisting with the Strikers gave him the sort of satisfaction he’d hoped to find when he joined the Thunder. Daniel had over eleven years as a pro hockey player under his belt, and he knew, watching these young players, he had something to offer here. He could guide and mentor, and really, at the end of the day, even more than actually being on the ice, that was what made him happiest. That was what he’d enjoyed most about being captain of the Venom. And it was a feeling he didn’t think he could replicate as part of the Thunder’s organization. Not anymore.
Jake Jenson had practically done a backflip when Daniel reached out to him about a coaching position with the youth league for next season. He’d have a job, guaranteed, and since the money didn’t matter much, he hadn’t tried to haggle about pay. At this point, it was about doing what fulfilled him, and he was certain this would be it.
Daniel let the management know his decision, and they agreed he’d stay on the team for their remaining handful of games before officially retiring from the NHL in April.
The Thunder had one final match against the Venom as the end of the regular season approached. It felt bittersweet to be facing off against his old team for the very last time, but it wasn’t devastation or grief. Daniel didn’t feel like he was losing out, even if the path of his career had taken a detour he’d never expected.
He cherished every moment on the ice with his current and former teammates. The stick slaps from Holtzy. The friendly hits into the boards from Morley. Even the sick save Army made on the shot Daniel was dead sure would be a goal—but especially the one that got through with only two minutes to spare in the third, which earned the Thunder another rare win.
Army, Holtzy, and a few of the guys hugged him after the final buzzer rang, and the Venom made an announcement wishing him luck in his impending retirement.
Daniel cried, because it was the end of such a pivotal chapter of his life, but he wasn’t the only one with tears on his face as they huddled together, and he wasn’t sad so much as he was just...massively fucking grateful. These men would be his friends for life, no matter what else happened. He didn’t doubt that for a second.
Afterward, they all met up at Morley’s place. It wouldn’t be just their typical little crew since the occasion had turned into an impromptu retirement party of sorts and most, if not all, of the Venom would be attending. Micah had flown into Atlanta for the game, knowing how much it meant to Daniel and wanting to finally meet Daniel’s former teammates.
“So this is dolphin guy,” Morley said when Daniel and Micah stepped into his humongous foyer.
Micah grinned cheekily, accepting Morley’s proffered hand. “Live and in person. And you’re Trevor Morley.”
“The man, the myth, the legend. Good to finally meet you, bro.” Morley pointed to the fridge off to the side. “There’s beer in there, if you want. More in the kitchen and some wine and other libations. Just tell me what you like, and we’ll make it happen.”
Morley clapped Daniel on the shoulder. “Ryu and Army are already here. Tristan had to swing by his place to pick up Cruzy, but they’ll be here soon. And of course, we have pizza and wings on the way.”
“You’re still calling him Cruzy?” Daniel asked, knowing how much Sebastian hated the nickname.
Morley winked. “Bro, you know I have to give him hell. That dude needs to chill more than anyone I know. Trust me, he’ll love me in time.”
Daniel didn’t contradict him because Morley could be pretty damned lovable, but he thought Sebastian Cruz might be impervious to his charms.
As Morley wandered off, Micah caught Daniel’s eye. He waved toward the beer fridge with his brows arched in question.
Daniel grinned. “Easy and immediate access,” he whispered. “Come on.”
He led Micah to the kitchen, where Ryu and Army stood near the counter. Ryu was watching disapprovingly as Army lifted a tortilla chip loaded with what looked like seven-layer dip to his mouth. “You shouldn’t eat those if you’re having pizza and wings, too. All this junk food goes against your daily recommended caloric intake.”
Army gave an insouciant shrug. He was busy loading another chip before he’d even finished swallowing the first. “Please, babe. I’ll spend some extra time on the treadmill tomorrow. Don’t ruin the experience of this delicious dip by saying things like ‘caloric intake’ while I’m eating.”
Micah laughed, and Army waved at him. “Hey, man. Emmitt Armstrong, but everyone calls me Army.”
“Micah Kelly.”
“And the guy who’s being all judgmental about my eating habits is my boyfriend, Ryu.”
“Hi,” Ryu said with a small smile and a tip of his chin, before immediately turning back to Emmitt. “I’m not judging, I’m just reminding you what the nutritionist said.”
“Bro,” Morley said, approaching with a few beer bottles in hand, “no one actually listens to the nutritionist but you and Holtzy.”
“Did someone say my name?”
Daniel swiveled to face Tristan and his boyfriend, Seb, who were just coming up behind him. He grabbed Micah’s hand and tugged him over to make introductions.
Sebastian gave Micah a quick handshake, but after getting the okay, Tristan dragged Micah into a hug. He was so tall the top of Micah’s head barely cleared his shoulder.
“It’s so great to finally meet you,” Tristan said as he stepped back. “Every time Bellzie talks about you, he has a smile on his face. I love seeing him so happy.”
Micah reached out to Daniel and twined their fingers together. “I’m happy, too.”
“I’ll also be happy when dinner arrives,” Morley declared with a smirk. He rubbed his flat stomach. “I’m withering away over here.”
“Need to keep that strength up to brawl with Seth Bolton on Sunday?” Ryu asked in a deadpan voice.
“Bolton from the Marauders?” Daniel asked, looking between them. “Why will you be brawling?”
Tristan sighed. “It’s been a thing all season long. Morley racks up penalty minutes every time we have a match with them.”
“He’s got an annoying face, and he likes to stick it into mine.” Morley spread his massive hands. “He also talks a lot of shit because we beat the Marauders in the conference final last year. The coach loves to put his defensive pairing against me and Holtzy whenever we’re on the ice. Bolton can’t get a rise out of Holtzy, so he comes at me, and bro, I’m not about to let it slide.”
“If you did, they’d have less power play goals against us,” Army pointed out.
Morley gaped at him. “You’re going to say that to me with all the trash-talking you do?”