Page 4

FOUR

KEVIN

“Kogan! Eyes up!” Coach Ryan barked from center ice.

His voice jolted me. Heat flared in my cheeks. Damn it. My focus snapped back, heart thudding against my ribs. Tyler. I’d been watching Tyler again—the effortless way his edges carved into the ice during the drill.

“Sorry, Coach.” I scrambled back into position along the blue line. The cold air burned my lungs despite the sweat cooling on my skin.

Need to focus. No sloppy mistakes.

Henderson glided past, shooting me a curious look. “Head in the game, rookie.”

A flicker of annoyance. Fourth season in the league, but still the rookie here. I gave a sharp nod, gripping my stick tighter. Defensive zone coverage was all that mattered.

When Coach blew the whistle, ending the day’s practice, sweat plastered my hair to my forehead. My muscles screamed, less from exertion and more from the mental strain of not looking at Tyler every five seconds.

“Kogan, Bennett—a word.” Coach Ryan flagged us over to the bench.

Tyler skated up beside me, helmet off, expression neutral. But his eyes met mine for a brief second before landing on Coach.

Shit. Did he see something? My gut clenched. Were we that obvious?

“Whatever you two are doing, keep it up.” Coach’s directness caught me off guard. “Your defensive pairing is clicking better than I’ve seen since you got here, Kogan. That sequence in the penalty kill drill? Textbook communication and positioning.”

The tension in my shoulders eased. Textbook communication. He’d noticed. Of course, he did. Our chemistry was practically screaming across the ice.

Tyler nodded beside me. “We’ve been working on our timing.” His voice was steady, professional.

Coach Ryan’s gaze moved between us, shrewd. “Well, it shows. Chemistry like you’ve got is what makes successful D pairings. Build on it. But—” he looked directly at me—“always keep your focus out there. When you’re distracted, Kogan, it all falls apart.”

“Yes, Coach. Understood.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you two tomorrow morning, nine sharp.”

As we skated toward the tunnel, Tyler bumped my shoulder. A small smile played at his lips. “Chemistry, huh?”

I focused straight ahead. I couldn’t chance the look at him because then I might have to kiss him right here. “Shut up. He’s talking about hockey.”

“Sure he is.” Tyler winked as we reached the locker room. “See you inside.”

I paused, sucking in a deep breath before pushing through the door after him. The usual post-practice chaos hit me—loud chatter, Velcro loosening from chest protectors and shin guards. I took a seat at my stall and kept my head down, keeping my attention on getting out of my gear.

“That no-look pass to Bennett was sick, Kogan,” Petrov yelled from across the room. “You guys been practicing that?”

My neck felt hot. “Something like that.” I avoided Tyler’s eyes when I replied.

“Whatever it is, it’s working.” Petrov pulled off a skate. “You two are suddenly reading each other’s minds out there.”

How long until someone connected the dots? The ease with which Tyler deflected the attention, joking as he peeled off his jersey, only highlighted my awkwardness. He moved through the locker room, comfortable in his skin. Damn him for being so effortlessly cool.

The hot spray of the shower eased my tired muscles, but not the knot in my stomach. I leaned my forehead against the tile wall. This was getting complicated. We’d been careful—separate arrivals, no texting during team meetings, acting like nothing had changed.

But hockey players notice everything. Shifts in energy, the on-ice synergy Coach mentioned. How long could we keep this between us? Not that I wanted to hide it. But this was Tyler. A teammate. The stakes seemed impossibly high. If this went wrong…

* * *

Back at my apartment, I collapsed onto the couch. The lingering buzz from practice, the anxiety from the locker room—swirled inside me. My mind replayed Tyler’s wink at the tunnel entrance. That calm confidence. The heat that flared between us with just a glance.

God, I was falling hard. And fast. Too fast?

My phone buzzed on the coffee table. A text from Meg. Maybe talking to her would help. I hit call.

“There’s my baby brother! I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

“Hey, Meg.” I sank deeper into the cushions. “Sorry I’ve been MIA. I’ve been busy.”

“Hmm.” Her suspicion radar went on high alert. “Busy with what, exactly? You sound different.”

I laughed despite myself. “How can I sound different? I’ve said like a dozen words.”

“I have big sister superpowers. Spill it, Kev.”

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. But it was Meg. “I met someone.”

Her squeal nearly deafened me. “Tell me everything! Who is he? How’d you meet? Is he cute? Of course, he’s cute. You have excellent taste.”

“Slow down.” Laughter bubbled up. “It’s... complicated.”

“Complicated how? Oh god, he’s not married, is he?”

“No! Nothing like that.” Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for her reaction. “It’s Tyler Bennett.”

Silence lingered. Worry crept in about what she was thinking.

“Tyler Bennett? As in your teammate Tyler Bennett? All-Star defenseman Tyler Bennett?”

“That’s the one.”

“Holy shit, Kevin.” Another pause. “Wait, isn’t he gay too? I remember hearing something about that years ago.”

“He is, yeah.”

“So how did this happen? When did this happen?”

I recounted the story—Detroit, the blizzard, the single bed, the Grindr notification that broke the ice. The easy intimacy that followed. The connection between us.

“You realize this could be a rom-com, right?” She sounded way too excited about this. “Stranded in a snowstorm with a hot hockey player who likes you back? I’m jealous.”

A reluctant smile touched my lips. “It is kind of unbelievable.”

“And?” She knew me too well. That single word held a weight of unspoken fears.

“He’s also a teammate, Meg. Someone I have to work with every day. Not just on the same team, he and I are paired up every shift. If it goes south…”

“Hold up.” She interrupted. Her voice was firm. “You’re already thinking about something happening? It literally just started.”

“I know, but?—”

“No. Look, I get the teammates concern. Really, I do.” Her voice softened slightly. “But from what you’ve told me, this sounds like something more than a hook up. And I haven’t heard you this excited about someone in...” She paused longer than necessary. “Well, ever.”

It did feel special. That was the terrifying part. A warmth spread through my chest hearing her say it.

“Kevin Michael Kogan, you listen to me.” She switched to full big-sister mode. “Yes, dating a colleague has risks. Yes, if it ends badly, things could get awkward. But what if it doesn’t? What if this is the real deal? Are you going to let fear stop you from finding out?”

Her question resonated, echoing the turmoil inside me.

Tyler’s easy laugh. The intensity in his blue eyes when he looked at me. The way my hand seemed to automatically go to his when we were near each other. Was I really going to let fear win?

“You’re right.” The admission loosened something tight in my chest.

“Of course I am. I’m always right.” The smile was back in her voice. “So what’s next? Are you guys actually dating or just messing around?”

“We’ve been hanging out. His place, mine. It’s low key.”

“So... that’s a no on dating? Just private indoor activities?” The suggestion hung heavy in her tone.

Heat crept up my neck. “Not just that. We text and talk. A lot.”

“But have you been on a proper date? Like, in public, eating food that one of you didn’t cook? Going to a movie? Maybe even dressed up a little?”

“No.” The admission was weak.

“Then that’s your next move, little brother. Ask him on a proper date.”

After hanging up, I stared at the phone lying on the cushion beside me. Meg was right. It wasn’t sustainable to keep the secret. It wasn’t fair to either of us, or to whatever this was becoming. If this was real—and god, I hoped it was—we needed to go on a date.

My mind immediately went to Vesuvio. The cozy warmth, the incredible carbonara, the kindness of the owner, Mirco. It was personal, a place I’d discovered on my own. A place I wanted to share.

My thumb hovered over Tyler’s contact. Nerves tightened my throat. After a couple of deep breaths, I tapped out the message, forcing myself not to overthink it.

Kevin: Any plans tomorrow night?

I hesitated on the send button for a second before tapping it.

The phone buzzed before I could put it down.

Tyler: Nope. What’s up?

Okay.

My fingers flew across the screen.

Kevin: Want to have dinner with me? There’s this Italian place in the North End I’ve been wanting to take you to. Vesuvio.

Send.

The typing bubbles appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. The wait was agonizing.

Tyler: Like a date date?

Kevin: Exactly like that. Unless you’d rather not.

Waiting again. Seemingly longer. Then?—

Tyler: Are you kidding? I’d love to. What time?

Yes!

A grin stretched across my face, sharp and sudden. I almost dropped the phone from my excitement.

Kevin: 7:30? I can pick you up.

Tyler: Great. I’ll be ready.

A date. I’m going out with Tyler Bennett.

My pulse hammered—a mix of pure terror and giddy anticipation. Nothing, not even stepping onto NHL ice for the first time, compared to this. Relationships had come and gone, but this connection with Tyler felt like finding a missing piece I hadn’t known I was searching for.

My phone buzzed again.

Tyler: Just to be clear, I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. And not only for the food.

A laugh escaped me.

Kevin: The food is pretty life-changing. But yeah, me too.

Tyler: Good. And just so you know, I clean up pretty nice for a date.

Kevin: Can’t wait to see.