“Just wait until the press notices that we’ve got a new golden boy on our team.”Shit, I haven’t even thought about that. Of course, the press is going to have their eagle eye on me, ready to sing my praises when I do well and just as ready to tear me back down when I mess up. I must’ve said theshitout loud because Luke sniggers next to me, repeating, “Oh shit, indeed” back to me, a wicked glimmer in his eyes.
“Welcome to the big boy’s league, my man,” he smiles, his eyes growing darker, like two deep pools of chocolate. “You’ve officially landed.” He takes a long sip from his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the pale skin of his long neck. With an outdrawnahhhthat goes straight to the small hairs at the back of my neck, he places his glass back on the table, wiping his lips with the back of his other hand. Tipping his chin in my direction, he seems to ponder something, a seriousness flickering across his face. Then he’s back to his usual cheery self and I can almost convince myself that I just imagined it.
“Glad to be here,” I murmur, because I feel like Ishouldsay something to acknowledge how welcoming Luke has been to me since I first arrived in Aurora. And then I do something that I usually never do because it mostly just backfires. I let my guard down just a little. “It still blows my mind, to be honest. Fucking scary shit.” I throw my gaze down at my glass, clenching my fists at my sides. Next to me, Luke reaches out and before I realize what he’s doing, I feel a heaviness on my right shoulder, Luke’s large hand squeezing it gently a couple of times.
“‘Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life,’” he speaks quietly, a strange familiarity to the words, their origin eluding me. All too soon, his hand leaves my shoulder, and I realize I want nothing more than to chase his touch. Chase this feeling that I’ve been searching for since I was a kid. The feeling of being connected to someone, the closeness of another person grounding me, quieting my mother’s voice inside my head for however brief a moment. And perhaps not just any person, but someone who understands me. A friend, perhaps. Someone likehim. “Just embrace it, man,” he continues. “That’s all you can do. That’s what we all try to do. In the blink of an eye, it can all be gone.” As if on cue, he blinks, his dark eyelashes fluttering, the tips golden in the sparse light of the bar. And I find myselfmesmerized, my eyes fixated on his vibrating lashes as if they’re trying to send the meaning of the universe to me in morse code.
Tearing myself away, I swallow, the sound so loud inside my head, “I’ll try,” I smile back at him.
I’ll try.
Chapter Ten
Luke
I’ve been rooming withCody for a few weeks now and it just continues to blow my mind how easily we’ve fallen into this comfortable togetherness. It’s like we’ve always lived together, played together, known each other. And although Riley is my man and always will be, the pull that I feel whenever Cody is around is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Last night we went out again after another win and if you ask me what we talked about and who sat next to me, forget it. I don’t remember. All I remember is Cody’s careful smile and his cute blush whenever someone said his name or asked him a question. The way he tucked his shaggy blond hair behind his ear and how his gray eyes sparkled in the light from the streetlamps when we walked to my car together. I fell asleep once we got home, myhead spinning, a lightness in my chest, and although I only had one beer, I felt intoxicated. High.
I woke up in a weird mood, though. I have for a few days, to be honest. I can’t really pinpoint it, but I’m not the usual hyper me—a whirlwind as soon as I get out of bed. It’s not like I’m moody or unmotivated. No, it’s not anything like that. As soon as I get to the rink, I’m the good old Luke again, playing like there’s no tomorrow. Mornings are just… weird somehow. I just feel like camping out in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with Cody next to me, sharing my fluffy blanket—yes, I have a fluffy blanket. Who doesn’t?—watchingLove, Simonfor the umpteenth time. It’s my favorite movie, and it always gets me out of a funk. Huh, am I in a funk? And if I am, then why would I be? Maybe I’m just coming down with something. Note to self: ask Mom what the herbal stuff is that she always puts in her tea when she’s sick.
Last night was our sixth win in a row and although we all played like a well-oiled machine, Cody was positively on fire.Cody.He was long gone this morning on his mandatory morning run when I woke up. I don’t know where he gets the strength from. It’sfreeze-your-ass-offcold outside, and I was glued to my bed until I couldn’t postpone getting up any longer.
We’re getting to know each other’s habits, and there’s no doubt that Cody puts the D in dedicated. I’ve never met a more disciplined player and if it weren’t for the fact I’ve been upping my game too, I would be green with envy. Besides, it’s no hardship being happy for someone who’s just so genuinely nice.
So, it doesn’t help that overnight, Coach Bassey has morphed into a sadistic drill sergeant, his entire demeanor screaming, ‘No rest for the wicked, boys.’ He’s had the team skating line drills and practicing one-on-one corner battle drills all morning, and by now my lungs are burning, my legs screaming at me. Crane, who once again led the celebrations last night and was buyinga round of shots when Cody and I left the bar, is complaining audibly, looking close to puking his guts out on the ice.
Last in line for another defense drill, I watch as Caps comes flying across the ice at full speed with the puck, while Virtanen waits for him at the blue line. Caps has some mean puck-handling skills, one of the most reliable players on the team, and no surprise, he easily manages to dodge Virtanen as he skates backward, trying to block Caps from getting to the net. Slipping past him effortlessly, Caps fires determinedly at the net, his face just about ready to break out into a broad, celebratory smile. I already see it coming, though, as Cody has been positively on fire all morning, blocking shots left and right, Caps’ meeting the same fate. Blocking the puck in a flash, Cody sends it up over the net and into the glass, and Caps slams his stick into the ice.
“Motherfucking fuck balls,” Caps yells, picking up his stick. Throwing a glance in Cody’s direction, he tips his chin, smiling warningly. “Next time, goalie!” he yells, his voice echoing off the boards. Cody just shrugs, then moonwalks—moon skates?—in front of his goal. I love this side of him; the way he’s starting to let loose with the guys, his confidence building.
“Get it together, assholes,” Coach hollers across the rink, everyone looking up. “Other than Mitchell, you’re all playing like a group of fucking dilettantes! Let me see some goddamn energy.”Shit.
I’m up next, everyone clapping and cheering as I skate out to center ice, trying to keep my protein shake down. Watching our center, Bardét, get into place at the far end of the ice, I wait for Coach’s signal to start the last drill of the day. I just have to keep it together for one final drill and then I can hit the showers and hide in my bed for the next couple of hours.You’ve got this, I try mentally pumping myself up.You’re Lucky fucking Luke.
Coach’s whistle blows and Bardét starts toward me. The closer he comes, the faster he gets. I start skating backward, readyfor whatever direction Bardét decides to take to get past me. I know Bardét’s game, though, anticipating his move before he even starts, that telltale movement he makes with his shoulder depending on which direction he’s going to take. As he tries to skate to my left, I use my long reach, my stick connecting with his, causing him to lose the puck. As it slides behind him across the ice, I snag it quickly and start making my way to the net. This is my strong suit. Speed. I may not be as big as most other players, but I can skate like the fucking ice is on fire.
I hear Bardét right behind me as I come up on Cody in the goal. Trying not to focus on the fact Cody has basically been a wall all morning, I decide on my move. Crouching down into position, gloved hands out and his stick raised, Cody gets ready to make another save. Deciding to shoot quickly before my teammate kills my momentum from behind, I flick my wrist, sending the puck across the ice. In a flash, Cody dives for the puck, catching it in his glove before landing on his stomach.Fuck.I don’t know how, but he read me like an open book, just like he predicted almost every other shot today. His talent is insane, and his way of reading the game is so unique. At least he’sourgoalie and not our opponents’.
Skating around the back of the net, I circle back toward Cody as Bardét skates off toward Coach, probably for a ribbing. Despite my annoyance at missing the shot, I still want to congratulate Cody on some great saves this morning. I turn just in time to see him pull his mask off and set it down on top of the net. Ruffling a hand through his damp hair, a shadow moves across his face that’s slightly paler than usual. His lips contort into a grim line, and when he starts skating toward the exit, a frown appears between his brows, resembling a wince. Skating to his side, I bump my elbow against his.
“Those were some wicked saves, man,” I say with a wink, taking in his face. As he looks up, blinking a couple of times, Irecognize the look in his eye, however much he tries to conceal it with an attempt at smiling back. Pain. And worry.
“Thanks,” he nods, looking back down at the ice. Leaning in, I keep my voice low to not draw unnecessary attention from our teammates.
“You okay, Mitchell? I saw you landed on your stomach.” As he looks back up, his gray eyes are indecipherable aside from that prolonged frown.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Just beat.” He wipes his hand across his forehead.
“Yeah, you and me both,” I bump my shoulder against his, skating for the exit.
Cody headed straight for his room once we got home, and I just about managed to drag myself onto my bed, hugging my sunflower fluffy against my chest, before I collapsed into a coach-from-hell-induced coma. It’s getting dark outside when I wake to a light knock on my door. Blinking a couple of times, I sit up, my right cheek and chin covered in drool.Charming.
“Luke?” a low voice sounds from the other side of the door, accompanied by a few additional taps. “Are you up?”
“Yeah,” I clear my throat, jumping out of bed. Nearly tripping over my fluffy blanket, I rub my face as I head for the door. Opening it, I’m met by a pair of wary gray eyes, Cody nibbling on his bottom lip. “Hey man, what’s up?” I ask, taking in his face. Fuck, he looks wrecked, his lips pinched, drops of sweat beading across his forehead.
“Uhm, sorry to wake you…” he trails off, eyes cast down to the floor.
“Nah, good thing you did. Didn’t mean to sleep this long.” My stomach chooses that exact moment to elicit an outdrawn growl, reminding me I’ve skipped afternoon snack number two.
