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SILAS

PRESENT DAY—AGE TWENTY-TWO

“ R owland got the drop on you, Moss! How many times do I have to tell you, don’t be distracted by his footwork, follow the puck. Run the drill again.”

I stopped short and stared at Banning, frustrated as fuck, exhausted from practice, and fighting the urge to say take my hockey stick and shove it up your…

“Now!” Coach snapped and blew his whistle, motioning for me to get my butt in gear. “We have the college final coming up in two days. Head in the game or head out of this rink.”

I nodded, biting back a snarky reply. He wasn’t totally in the wrong, but I was pissed that he only seemed to notice my screw ups and not the good stuff.

This extra practice time, one hour a week with my teammates Jace, Finn, and Axel, only proved that I still had far to go.

I’d worked my ass off for months and months, but I was still not where I wanted to be.

September to December had me hanging on by my teeth, and shit, I hadn’t played so hard or sweated so much in all my life.

The winter semester was much the same, and now April was here. I didn’t feel any closer to my goal than I did that first day back. I assumed that I’d return from a year away from college, hockey, and socializing, and reenter everything full force, scoring a hat trick.

Not quite.

School was good and I was caught up on my courses. I always had a mind for numbers so that hadn’t changed. And I’d finish my accounting degree no matter how long it took. That was the least of my concerns.

Socializing? I didn’t have much time for that.

The first semester was all about classes, follow up medical appointments for Josiah, visiting my dad, and working at Verdant.

Now I made it to the occasional party, but I was still finding my footing.

With teammates like Maddox and Finn, I found new friends.

Finn for sure, both of us defenseman, both of us on Coach’s shit list. Maddox, our first line goalie, was a prickly one, but I appreciated his snarky nature, and he seemed to appreciate mine.

Not that there was any competition in that; Maddox won for sure.

The one thing I didn’t do was sex. Not with any guy I went to school with, that is.

I’d hooked up with Darby, one of the tattoos artists who worked at Verdant, but he and I had an understanding.

After closing, we’d give each other hands jobs or blowjobs in the alley behind the shop.

I only had the inclination for casual and barely any time for even that.

No one else knew that I was gay. Not my dad, my brother, or anyone in my life.

Not that I expected a negative reaction from my family, but I was concerned about my hockey future more than anything.

Even though our team had two openly queer players, like Dane, and two couples, Maddox and Kayden, and Jace and Axel, I still hesitated to come out.

I figured I had enough against me; my age and my year off, without adding any more pressure.

There was also the fact that being around guys who played hockey, or any sport—their drive, their competitiveness, their confidence—turned my crank like nothing else.

Yeah, I had a type. Thankfully, none of the players on my team did it for me.

I needed that kind of complication like I needed a puck to the head.

Besides, no one was bossy enough or crazy enough to put up with my shit anyway.

“Are you going to do the drill, Silas, or are you going to stand there growing your beard?” Banning commented.

I bit my lower lip. Hard. The copper tang of blood was painfully familiar. I’m sure I had permanent teeth marks on my lip at this point.

“I’m on it, Damien ,” I bit out, using Coach’s first name and really pushing my luck.

The cacophony of the other players on the ice quieted to near silence. I didn’t need to look at Coach to know that he was glaring at me. Hell, I could feel the bite of his frosty gaze, colder than the ice under my skates.

Banning had it in for me from the get-go, and I was determined to prove him wrong.

I had a knack for solving puzzles and reading players.

But Damien Banning’s problem with me was still a mystery and one I intended to figure out.

One that I needed answers to. I’d given in to my curiosity and tried to learn more about him, but what I found online was nothing I hadn’t already known.

Five years ago, he played defense for Chicago, until his pro career was sidelined by a knee injury.

An accident that could’ve happened to any player.

But watching him skate now, it was hard to picture.

He was eight years older than me, but he looked a lot younger than your typical hockey coach.

And he certainly pushed me harder than any previous one I’d ever had.

I should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt. He was a coach, after all, and he was here to help players improve. But his expression was as clear as the blue line painted on the ice: he didn’t have faith in me. There was judgement and the verdict was “you’re good, but not good enough.”

Fuck that and fuck him.

Maybe his dream was gone, but mine was only beginning. Yes, I was facing guys that were all younger than me. But I had grit going for me. A ruthless core that never quit.

My teammates had hockey in their blood, like me, but they were living and breathing it. Me? I had other responsibilities that required survival.

Banning knew about my guardianship of Josiah.

The parts I was willing to share, that is.

I told him enough to let him know that I wasn’t fucking around in my spare time.

I was doing the best I could. Life wasn’t fair, and I knew that if I wanted to make it to the next level, I’d have to forego everything but family and hockey.

“Moss!” Banning shouted again.

“On it!” I yelled back and skated over to face off with Jace.

I didn’t let my temper get the best of me, and I focused on the drill. We ran it over and over, until I finally got the advantage and blocked Jace. After the danger zone drill, we played two-on-two, with me and Axel winning one-zip.

“Good job!” Banning shouted and motioned to the boards. “We’re done for the day. Get out of here and rest up for the game. We have a championship to bring home.”

“Yes, Coach!” all four of us called out.

I skated off with Finn by my side.

“That was a close call today, Silas,” Finn muttered. “I’ve never seen Banning’s face turn that shade of red before.”

I chuckled and pulled one of my gloves off, wiping the sweat off my face with my hand.

“He’s too easy to rile up.”

“Yeah?” Finn raised one eyebrow. “Normally he’s always cool. Nothing bothers him.”

“Nah. Remember that penalty against Grainger College?”

“Oh, yeah. There was that. He lost it for sure.”

“I don’t blame him,” I replied. “If you don’t have passion for the game, there’s no point, right?”

“Still, don’t piss him off for no good reason.”

“He doesn’t want me here,” I bit out. “I’m sick of it.”

“He’s trying to get the best out of you. If he didn’t want you here, you’d be gone already.”

I thought about that for a moment. Would I have been cut by now if my playing was subpar?

“Maybe.”

Definitely.

“For sure. And stop thinking he has it in for you. He wouldn’t offer this extra ice time if he didn’t think you had potential.”

My friend didn’t see the way Banning looked at me.

Finn was a sweet guy, scrappy on the ice, but often na?ve when it came to everything else.

Finn shouldn’t be playing with guys like me; he should be protected at all costs.

My teammate reminded me of my brother, and that soft spot in my heart that was reserved for the select few, warmed.

“Thanks,” I offered. “I’ll try to keep the negative shit out of my head.”

“Exactly,” Finn urged. “You need a mindset reset.”

“Fuck, please don’t go all sports psychology on me,” I muttered. “You know I’m not into that woowoo shit.”

Finn rolled his eyes, and it made me chuckle.

“It’s not woowoo. It works.”

“I’m not entirely sure it’s working out for us.” I sighed. “We’re stuck here with extra practice.”

“Jace is our top scorer and he’s right here with us,” Finn added and stepped off the ice first.

“That’s because him and Axel weren’t working together.”

“They are now,” Finn replied. “So, why’s Coach still got them practicing with us? Huh? Well?”

Finn had a point.

“That I don’t know.”

“See? You’re being paranoid for nothing. Coach doesn’t have it in for you. He’s trying to push you to be better.”

Did I want to believe Finn? Yes. Did I? Not entirely.

“Look, I can admit that I didn’t play the way I wanted to in the fall, and it wasn’t easy coming back,” I replied and followed Finn down the hallway to the locker room. “But I feel like things are clicking with the team, and I’m working hard. I want Coach to recognize that.”

“We’re playing for the national championship, Silas. What more do you want?”

I wanted it all. I wanted to be the best.

But there was more. Truthfully? I wanted Coach’s approval. His praise.

Shit.

“You’re right. I should listen to you and shut up.”

“Don’t do that.” Finn chuckled. “You’d explode if you couldn’t say something sarcastic every day.”

I playfully nudged him with my elbow.

“Have faith in yourself,” he added.

We entered the locker room, and it was damp and drafty as usual. I shivered but it was my nerves talking, not the temperature. A lot was riding on this final game of the season.

“I work my ass off, but, sometimes, it doesn’t feel like I’m enough,” I admitted. “I had a plan, but so far, I’m still not where I want to be. And what if going pro doesn’t happen? I mean, I’m okay to go on and be an accountant?—”

“An accountant that looks like a biker,” Finn teased.

I gave him my tatted finger in response.

“You know you’ll come to me when you need help with your books,” I snarked.

“Me?” Finn asked, his eyes widening.

“Yes, you. When you go pro, you’re not going to hand your money to a stranger, right? You need someone who knows what they’re doing. Even if it’s not me, you gotta do your research and hire the right people to manage your money.”

Finn shrugged. “I’m sure if I get an agent, they’ll watch out for me.”

I sighed. “Finn, you’re way too trusting.”

“And you don’t trust enough,” he insisted as we headed for our cubbies.

I grabbed a towel and threw it over my shoulder, then reached for my shower kit.

My cubby was the bare minimum, neat and tidy, everything in its place.

I hated clutter. It made me twitch. Finn’s cubby, on the other hand, was like my friend: overflowing with color and personality.

He had neon stickers with funny slogans and jokes, a photo of him and his huge family taken at the farm in Nebraska, and a big stuffed cougar that sat on top, looking more like a teddy bear than a fierce cat.

The sight made me smile, but also shake my head.

We were so different and yet we got along.

“You headed home after this?” Finn asked, running a hand through his messy auburn hair.

I nodded.

“You want to join us for dinner?” I asked.

Finn missed his family something fierce.

He’d told me all about them, and about his girlfriend, their breakup, and the fact that he was demi.

There were times I wanted to tell Finn that I was gay, to unburden myself to someone.

But I didn’t. I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not that I wasn’t tempted to confess to him.

Maybe releasing the secret would ease the pressure inside me.

Pressure that was only going to get more intense from here on out.

“If Josiah’s cooking, yes,” Finn replied, breaking my musings. “If you’re cooking, no thanks.”

I threw my towel at his head, and he chuckled, ducking to avoid it.

There were too many smart-asses on our team.