“Oh cool, yeah, I didn’t know because that’s all you mention, ever.”
He snorted exhaled. “I’m such a dick. I know I am. I wasn’t always like this, it’s just…”
“It’s easier that way. Why let people get close if they can leave you?”
“That’s exactly fucking it.”
“We’re having a YouTube night.” I got up and grabbed the remote. “The guys used to do this out east. Try to find the weirdest video on YouTube. We go back and forth and announce a winner at the end.”
“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.”
“Don’t care. You’re drinking my beer at my place. We’re going to do what I want.” I started with a comedy bit about deer, and after three minutes of it, Cal almost smiled. It went on like that all night, six beers in and way past two in the morning. It was the better than my original plan for the night, and after I tossed him a blanket for the couch, my mind went to Naomi.
She’d get a kick out of this. Cal and I being buddies. My tipsy brain refused to acknowledge my own hypocrisy of how beingjust friendswith her was mainly about protecting myself. I could worry about that later.
For now, I was a little drunk, but I wasn’t in tears after missing my parents all day. It was the best-case scenario for me, and honestly, I might’ve found another friend.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Naomi
I had to blink twice to make sure what I was seeing was in fact, reality. The asshole hotshot on the team sat by Michael on the bench, their heads together before the start of the next game. I’d spent almost every night with Michael the past two weeks where we talked about the team and hockey nonstop. We’d start at my place working on the project then move to his, where we got naked. But during all these nights, he never once hinted he maybe got along with Cal.
He’d never said it outright, but it was clear he didn’t like the guy, so this new development was interesting.
Seeing him focused with his kind eyes and his easy grin, my heart somersaulted. Cal Holt was a dick, and there Michael was, being kind to him. Ugh. Michael Reiner was a dangerous kind of guy. He was one of the nice guys who pretended to be tough and unflappable. He reminded me of Cami in a way, putting on the show for everyone else and only letting a few inside. I was one of those people—the ones on the inside who knew what he was going through. I also realized the feelings I had for him were growing. Exponentially.
And yet, I couldn’t say a word about it. Was I afraid? Yes. Was I worried he’d put an end to it? Also, yes. It would hurt bad when we stopped… hooking up, but our friendship was worth it. I enjoyed my time with him too much to try and make it something it wasn’t meant to be.
“Naomi, hey,” my dad’s voice pulled me from the weird trance. He flashed a tight smile at me as he walked toward the bench.Speaking of getting hurt…would Michael be like my dad some day? Blowing off his family for a sport?
“Hi,” I said, my face flushing red. It’d been weeks into the season, and nothing had really changed between us. The familiar sinking feeling of being an embarrassment had me crossing my arms over my chest.
Michael and I entered the rink early before people arrived to show my dad and Hank the first part of the project—the full analysis of Erikson and Hansen. The project that my dad displayed zero interest in.
“Your sister should be coming to the game tonight,” he said, rocking back on his heels as he stared at his phone. “I have her in my seats near the box.”
Of course he did.“Cool,” I said, unsure how to respond. I was here to show him my project and instead, we talked about Cami. As per usual.
The only difference this time was that my irritation wasn’t directed at my sister. It was all at my dad.
The sounds of skating and laughter had us turning toward the ice. Cal and Michael stood, and Michael put a hand on Cal’s shoulder. I tensed, waiting for Cal to shove him off or do something stupid, but it never happened. My dad frowned and tilted his head to the side, the exact same mannerisms Cami used when she was confused.
Michael hopped over the side of the bench and made his way to where we always sat. He flashed us a grin. “Hey, Coach, Naomi.”
“What happened just now?” my dad asked, jutting his chin toward the ice.
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Cal Holt.” My dad put his hands on his hips and leveled his gaze at Michael. It was the dark brows and furrowed lines on his face that made players fear him. Cami and I got scared as kids when he pulled that look, but Michael’s grin grew.
“We came to an agreement, Coach. He’s going to stop being a dumbass.”
“Come with me. Now.” My dad put his hand on Michael’s shoulders, and they headed down the stairs toward the ice. Michael shrugged like it was no big deal, but a little pink entered his cheeks.
“What about the profiles?” I asked, my shoulders sagging. I spenthourspreparing a preview of them for tonight.
“Later, Naomi. This is more important. Team stuff always take priority. You should remember that, Reiner, for when you’re a coach. Now, tell me what the fuck I just witnessed.”
