As if reading my mind, Cody added, “I couldn’t leave you with those clowns over there. You’re too good for that. When I mentioned you to Hughes, he got really excited. He’s had bad luck with centers and is desperate to find a good one.”
My heart started swelling, and I swear to God, I thought it might break through my chest.
I exhaled a hushed, “Thank you.”
“Sure. Wanna see my new house and play PS5?” Cody asked.
Fuck, I was so overwhelmed. Too many emotions were happening, so I started picking at my cuticles to distract myself. My breath steadied, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I plastered on a chill, effortless smile and said yes.
We walked side-by-side on the sidewalk leading to the nice part of town. I wanted to thank him, but I didn’t want to break down in front of him. So, I said the only thing I could that wouldn’t turn me into a blubbering mess. “You’re a real one,Cody.”
Cody looked at me and smiled. “You too, man.”
I was nervous as hell, but I told myself I could do it. This was the start of something new. It was more than just an opportunity to play hockey. It was a chance to make a real friend, a friend who had done the nicest fucking thing anyone had ever done for me.
Whatever feelings I had for Cody needed to be frozen and stored away where they couldn’t affect my life. I could hide it. Ihadto hide it. Friends like that were hard to find, and I couldn’t let my secret get in the way of what could be a really awesome friendship.
I needed all the help I could get.
Chapter 2
Theo (Two Years Later: Summer before senior year of high school)
Sweat poured down my back. The defensemen had finished a grueling series of two-on-twos, and we all sat on the bench waiting for that hellish practice to end. Our forwards were doing suicides. Don’t get me wrong, suicides were the worst, and I felt for those poor guys out there, but it was clear summer was in the air because they were practically crawling on the ice.
I cupped my hands around my mouth. “COME ON, YOU FUCKERS! MOVE!”
“Moretti! Sit down and shut up,” Assistant Coach Briar screamed at me.
I couldn’t help it. I had to get out of there! Rowan was throwing a rager that night, and all I wanted was to kick back in his Jacuzzi and forget about everything. Plus, the hottest girls at school were gonna be there, and I couldn’t get Cynthia Rowland out of my mind. Damn, she was fire. Long auburn hair, killer smile—I’d walk over hot coals for a girl like that. I already knew how I’d catch her, too. I’d hop in that Jacuzzi,get the guns all nice and wet, flex the pecs, and put on a show. The girls loved it when I did that—got their attention every damn time.
Before practice, I’d given everyone a pep-talk. “Let’s ace this so Coach lets us out early. Then we can get hammered and make out with some honeys!”
Clearly, my pep-talk didn’t work. I could see the fire in his eyes. Coach Hughes was livid, and we weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon.
Every single one of our forwards moved like molasses. Well, except for our top three—Asher, Cody, and Rafael. Rafael was new, but the guy could skate. The three of them were doing the heavy lifting for the rest of the team, pushing themselves hard, maintaining their pace, and staying agile. But that wasn’t good enough. We were a team, and Coach wanted one hundred percent from everyone. It didn’t matter if you were in the top three or would probably never see the ice in a game. If you played for the Vipers, you had to work.
Asher was my best friend, and I do meanmybest friend. Other dudes tried to pal around with him because he was our center and team captain, but they didn’t hold a candle to me.
I could tell Asher was furious. He took Coach’s criticism personally—like it was up to him to lift the rest of the team. Sure, he was captain, but he wasn’t responsible for making sure everyone didn’t drag ass on the ice. It had been a long practice already, but he was still pushing.
Asher was everything a guy should be, and I admired the hell out of him. Many high school athletes play because it’s a status symbol. You’re instantly thrust into the social stratosphere when you’re a star athlete, and most guys only care about that. Not Asher. He was the personification of passion.
He came from nothing and worked his butt off for everything he got in life—the kind of dude you couldn’t help but respect. He was also smart, though he downplayed that constantly, and funny as hell. My only beef was that he was incredibly hard on himself. Hopefully, he’d just let himself have fun at Rowan’s party. Knowing him, he would be fuming about the rest of the team not pushing hard enough.
That’s why I messed with him so much. It was my little way of helping him lighten up. Life is too freaking short not to have a little fun.
I remember the day we met. We bonded right away, literally the first practice. Both of us were scared shitless to be playing with such a fantastic team, and Coach Hughes was renowned for being tough on his players. I put up a good front, but I was shaking with nerves. I looked at the dudes surrounding me, and they all had these well-rehearsed scowls etched into their faces. Whether real or not, all of them looked ready. I scanned the players, hoping to find someone I could befriend, when I saw Asher.
I can’t really describe why, but I instantly felt something pulling me towards him. Every once in a while, there was a guy that I’d zero in on and just know that I admired them. It was hard to understand why, because I barely knew them, but I somehowknewthey were awesome and had to become their friend—it became a personal mission of mine.
Never did I have that feeling stronger than when I saw Asher. He didn’t have a shit-eating grin or a big tough scowl on his face like the others. He looked nervous, and it made me want to wrap my arm around his shoulder and tell him he was going to do great. Nobody would have noticed, but his hands were shaking as he clenched his stick. His emerald green eyesscanned the sea of guys, looking for help.
That’s when my protective instincts kicked in, and I knew right then and there that he would be my best friend.
Whether he liked it or not. I’d figure out a way to make him like me.
But I couldn’t just skate over and start hugging the kid. That would be weird as fuck. So, instead, I skated to his side and told him he looked like the psychotic Chucky doll from the horror movie. Asher didn’t look like that at all. He was just a redhead, and that’s where the similarities ended, but it was the first thing I noticed. His hair looked like it was flaming under the rink lighting, and I couldn’t stop looking at it. I had to say something shitty or he’d think I was creepy.
