Page 158 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

He released my chin and waited in silence. If he thought it was my turn to start, he was wrong. I had no idea where to begin. But there was some mercy in him and Beckett inhaled. “Uncle Nate’s my hero,” he said. It was a truth in need of no evidence. He said it so firmly that there wasn’t a power on this planet that could change his mind. “I…” And he stumbled. He blinked fast and looked away. “He’s the father I never had. He’s the reason I play. He is the greatest man I have ever known.” The phrasing and the preamble of it told me there was more he wanted to say, but he desperately wanted me to understand the whole picture. Beckett let out a strangled chuckle. “But he’s also a megastar with incredible shoes to fill. Even if he’s the reason I found my love for hockey, I can never hope to live up to that glory.”

“That’s not…” I blurted, but Beckett shook his head once and I went quiet.

“The fact is, few people are truly great. And if one Partridge already holds that title, it’s not likely another will take the crown. I know that and I’m okay with that for the most part. I accepted it. But nobody else understands. The fact that I am Nate’s nephew doesn’t make anything easier. It makes things twice as hard. I keep having to prove myself as a player because everyone thinks it’s in my genes or my uncle’s backend deals with my coaches. As if. Nate’s too busy to keep up with it. And too proud of me to meddle and risk my future.”

I felt like I had always known that somewhere in the depths of my heart. But the nature of our rivalry hadn’t allowed me to admit as much until now.

“I know I’m a piece of shit to many people,” he said off-handedly. He focused on me and there was nothing dismissive about his words, then. “Most of all to you. I was having a bad day, Caden. I just got here and everyone was talking about my uncle. You can’t imagine what that’s like. I love that guy more than I can tell you. And yet, when everyone flocked to ask me what he was like, I wished he’d never existed. That messes with your brain.”

I swallowed. “I think I get it. And I walked into all that with praise for your uncle when you were already sick of it.”

Beckett grinned. “And thus started the two-year war. I must have seemed like such an asshole, lashing out for no obvious reason. And you, Caden, took that seriously. I can’t tell you how much you freaking haunted me all the time. If I saw you, I expected you to attack me.” He shrugged. “So I always cut to the chase. I figured if we have to fight, I might as well catch you off guard.”

I held my breath for some time. When I exhaled, it was like stepping into the pleasant sea. It was like releasing myself into something bigger and greater than I could imagine. But I wasn’t so naive as to go into it without reservations. “I did what I always did. I liked you and then I hated you because liking you hurt.”

It was enough to provoke Beckett’s fiercest kisses. We made out for a long time, pushing one another to the very limit of what we could take before we desperately took our clothes off. The sense of dread at the upcoming game against the Vikings was a little easier to ignore when we were busy pleasuring one another, but it was never truly gone.

Long, long after we had ridden the climax of our passion, we showered and dressed. Beckett’s clothes were those he wore for appearances around Jordan, mine were just a pair of pajama bottoms.

As he moved toward the door, he paused for another blazing kiss. I wondered how he did it. How was he so capable of obliterating all my concerns with little more than his wet lips and warm tongue?

“Oh,” he said, still holding me against his body but pulling his head back to look into my eyes. “Uncle Nate’s coming to watch us play against the Vikings. He called this morning.”

My heart leaped with boyish excitement. “Seriously?”

Beckett seemed torn after an instant. “Seriously. I haven’t seen him in months.” That last part was idle conversation. He was deliberately postponing something.

I couldn’t help it. I asked the question. “Do I get to meet the legend?”

Beckett scratched the back of his head. “I suppose everyone will get to meet him at the party after. I just hope it’s a victory celebration. But…” His eyes met mine and I read the apology in them. I also found how firmly his mind was made up.

It made my guts turn to steel and my heart clench, but I played along. I enjoyed Beckett too much to do otherwise. “I’ll be discreet,” I said.

Beckett nodded, kissed me on the lips, and left my room while murmuring a thanks. Although he had tried to make this kiss more than a peck, I had failed to reciprocate.

I’ll never be that important to you, I realized when nothing but the spicy scent of his cologne remained. I’ll never be good enough that you’re not ashamed of it.

And while I knew in my mind that I couldn’t judge him for it, my heart was tearing. It kept me up all night and made me want to stay in my bed when dawn found me tossing and turning. I didn’t feel hunger or thirst. I didn’t feel the drive to go on. It was hardly anything dramatic; a slow and steady descent into hopelessness was all it was.

I did get out of my bed. I did go down and have breakfast with the other guys who were sauntering around in their underwear, rubbing their eyes, and murmuring greetings. I spotted Beckett, fresh as a daisy, walking into the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal. How he could keep up with the lack of sleep and the appearance of freshness was beyond me. Maybe he had actually gotten a few hours of sleep. He wasn’t haunted by the near or distant future the way I was.

As I watched him move around with other guys, searching for space in the kitchen and some fresh coffee before it was gone, I longed to be over there with him. I longed to get that mug full for him and give him a bite of my sandwich. I wanted him to be mine more with each heartbeat.

I could let go of so many things, I realized it in that instant.

I could surrender the captaincy. I could follow him and assist him. I could be the platform on which he stood when others celebrated him. He had grown so much in the months of his captaincy that I began to see Coach Murray’s thinking.

But I couldn’t hide how his proximity quickened my pulse. I couldn’t wipe the last trace of a smile from the corners of my lips when I caught his glance. I couldn’t keep the blush away when he passed by me in the locker room, smelling of body wash and cologne.

I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel the things I felt when all those around me showed theirs so freely. Sawyer, who wasn’t even here this morning, so openly loved Noah that I didn’t think anyone would ever dare to object. He was so dedicated and loyal to their relationship that I was sure he would rip any critic apart.

Why couldn’t I act the same when every instinct in my body told me to?

It haunted me for the rest of the day. It bugged me and jerked me this way and that even when I paced the room, waiting for Beckett. I was nervous beyond my memory. Our game against the Vikings was so close that I needed to direct my attention to it. We had done our drills twice as hard today, every last one of us honing in on our greatest strengths, aligning with the rest of the team. We all needed a good night’s sleep and few distractions, but I was desperate to see him. I needed him tonight to soothe my anxiety over the game. But even more so, I needed him to hush the worries that he could never silence.

And when he finally knocked, I wished he hadn’t. I knew he couldn’t do the thing I needed of him. And I knew tonight was the worst time to speak up, even if keeping it to myself felt like a little death.

Beckett walked in without waiting for my voice. He shut the door sneakily as always, leaning against it, and eying me. He wore his white shirt, dotted with a small blue pattern, tucked in his fitted navy blue pants. The light brown leather belt matched his shoes and I realized then that I had never been with someone so well put together. Guys I had been with were mostly either smart casual or, more often than not, playing the slob aesthetic with baggy clothes, sweatpants, and sneakers. Beckett had gone from one of those to nearly wearing suits to our bedroom dates.