Page 3

CHAPTER 3

JACE

PRESENT DAY, SUTTON U, WINTER SEMESTER

T here was nothing like the smell of a hockey locker room; a combination of musky jocks, funky pits, and ripe feet, along with the hit of ammonia that lingered from the cleaning crew. To some people, it’s intense, even gag-inducing. To me, it was a reminder that no matter how shitty things got, this was home.

Hockey wasn’t just a game to me; it was my destiny. That might sound dramatic, but it was true. I was eight years old when my aunt gifted me a hockey jersey with the number to match, along with a pair of secondhand skates. There was trepidation but mostly elation when I stepped out onto the ice for the first time, like a wobbly newborn deer discovering how to walk. But it didn’t take me long to get my footing. Soon, I was outskating every kid in my town and on my team, and I didn’t look back.

For a guy like me, whose professional league dream was just within reach, it wasn’t a matter of doing what I love, but needing it, like a drug. Everything in my life up to this point was a fight to get here.

And I always played to win.

According to my aunt Josie, I’d been born scrappy, a preemie with a tiny body but a huge set of lungs. And nothing had changed in twenty years. I was still loud and determined to beat the odds.

My first year at Sutton U had felt like a dream and after every game I pinched myself. This was my life. And now, more than halfway through my second year, my goal was to secure the coveted center spot. Coach Banning hadn’t decided yet and it was chafing my balls. I was the highest scorer on the team and ranked fourth in the national college standings. That spot was fucking mine. I knew it as sure as I knew every inch of ice that we played on.

But there was a problem with my plan. A problem named Axel Lund.

He was a new forward, but an old reminder of the life I’d left behind. Axel wasn’t just a teammate; he was also my ex-boyfriend’s best friend. My stomach roiled at the thought of my last semester of high school and everything that had happened with Preston. I thought I’d put it all behind me but having Axel here brought back shit I didn’t want to face.

But I’d survived tougher enemies than Axel. I could handle it.

I was handling it. Sort of.

This past fall was nothing but me and Axel circling each other with wary glances and sharp comments. The tension was undeniable, but given that we barely spoke to each other, we kept it contained. But we couldn’t maintain this distance forever. I was dying to ask him questions. Like, what the fuck was he doing here at Sutton anyway? Why would Axel transfer from the top-ranked team in the country? Did he miss his mark as Langston’s play maker? The guy didn’t score as much as me last season, but he sure as shit had more assists, so the nickname suited. And I knew that he was also vying for the same spot.

He was close, too close, and now my competition for everything I’d been busting ass for.

And here we were, in late January, ready to ramp up again. And it wasn’t just hockey that had my gut churning and my nerves riding high. I’d recently come out to the team. I’d known I was bisexual since high school but living in a small town stuck in the nineties didn’t exactly encourage me to tell people. Axel already knew, of course he did, and I was surprised he didn’t tell everyone the moment he landed here, since he hated my guts. But he didn’t. As to why, I still didn’t know.

More questions whizzed around in my brain like a puck bouncing off the boards, and my pregame anxiety turned to full-on panic. I fought hard against the urge to run to the bathroom.

“Jace!” a familiar voice shouted, snapping me out of my doomsday headspace.

I looked up to find my friend, and the captain of the Cougars, Dane St. Pierre, standing at the doorway to the locker room.

“You coming or what? We need our best forward if we want to smash this fucking game,” Dane teased with a big grin on his face.

I could always count on Dane to cheer me on, and I couldn’t lie; I was a total praise slut. Hey, I was a hockey player, we all have big egos that need stroking on the regular.

“Yeah, I’m coming already,” I fired back and popped to my feet.

Grabbing my stick from the stall, I followed my friend as we made our way out of the locker room and down the chute to the rink. The closer we got to the ice, the faster my pulse thrummed. My stomach flipped over again but it was more about excitement.

As long as I kept moving, my intrusive thoughts wouldn’t win.

“Everything okay?” Dane asked.

I glanced at my friend and nodded. Now wasn’t the time to unload all the shit I’d been working on in my head since high school.

“Just school stuff.”

Dane’s eyes surveyed my face, and he shook his head. “Not buying it.”

I rolled my eyes and playfully smacked his padded chest with my gloved hand.

“Later, okay. We’ve got the game to worry about first.”

Dane smiled. “Jackson’s got the whole crew here today to make noise.”

I wasn’t the only one who came out recently. Dane told the team about his boyfriend—and dormmate—Jackson. They’d dated secretly in high school and reconnected here at Sutton. Since Jackson was a member of the rowing crew, he always had a group of friends with him to help cheer on our home games. Their antics were loud and sometimes crazy, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“There’s nothing like the buzz of playing for a home crowd,” I replied as we shuffled down the chute, the noise around us getting louder and louder. “I swear, I could live off of this feeling for weeks.”

“I know, right?”

We joined the rest of our teammates but in the crowded space, I bumped into Ethan Walker, another forward.

“Sorry, man,” I muttered.

No one should stand near a hockey player when they’re all geared up. On the ice, we had smooth moves. Off the ice, we were all accidents waiting to happen.

“No worries,” Ethan replied with a teasing grin. “Just don’t knock into me like that when I’m heading for the net, yeah?”

“You? Don’t you mean me?”

“Fuck off,” Ethan said playfully and nudged me with his arm.

Unfortunately, Ethan pushed a little too hard and I fell back, hitting someone else. Someone who smelled like sweat, grapefruit, and musk. I recognized that unique combination right away and there was no need for me to turn my head.

Axel.

I’d never seen the guy in a good mood. I knew some of his backstory from Preston, and from the fact that the Lund name was well-known in New York state. Axel came from money. A lot of it. Which is probably one of the reasons he looked down his nose at me. He was a snobby asshole times ten, and it pissed me off that he always smelled so damn good. What, did he sit in a bath of cologne before every game or something? I snorted at that idea. Given that his family was loaded, he probably did.

“Do you fucking mind?” Axel growled and shoved me forward.

Thankfully, I had Dane and Ethan around to cushion me.

“Easy, Lund, it was an accident,” I explained as I turned around to face him. “Save that aggression for the other team.”

“Stop talking and keep walking,” Axel muttered, his dark blues full of contempt.

“Bite me.”

Axel shook his head, his shaggy blond mullet sticking out from under his helmet. With his six-three height and broad build, number thirteen (I didn’t know if that was lucky or unlucky) was a force to be reckoned with. I was shorter and leaner, but faster, and most important of all, I wasn’t intimidated. Not by him or anyone else. I’d faced a lot tougher rivals than this spoiled jackass.

“Maybe if you spent more time on your slapshot and less on getting your dick wet, you’d get drafted already,” Axel snapped.

“Maybe if you got laid occasionally you wouldn’t be a dick,” I bit back. “Or, do you suck at scoring off the ice, too?”

“Ooh,” Ethan cackled as more teammates turned around to stare at us. “The gloves are coming off now, baby.”

Axel’s face turned ruddy, and I swear I saw smoke coming out from under his helmet. My smart-ass comments often got me into trouble and today was no different.

“Shut your fucking mouth, Rowland,” Axel bit out.

Kayden Melnyk, our biggest defenseman, but the sweetest guy ever, grabbed my shoulder and gave me a worried look. “Come on, guys, can’t we all just get along?”

“Let them be, Kay.”

That gruff comment came from Maddox Rocher, our first-line goalie, and Kayden’s boyfriend. Talk about opposites attracting. More like the moon and sun colliding. Mad was one hell of a blocker but snarky and testy as fuck, and not one for the whole ‘team spirit’ thing. Unlike Kay, who made friends anywhere he went. But thanks to Kay, Mad’s initial chilly reception to the team finally started to melt. But the last few weeks hadn’t been easy. They’d come out too, and while most of the team were supportive, there was still tension in the air. Or maybe that was just because with every game, we were one step closer to the national championships. Emotions, frustrations, and expectations were riding high.

Kayden gave me another concerned glance but said nothing.

“What the hell are you guys waiting for?” Coach Banning suddenly yelled out. “Get out there and get warmed up! We have a game to play!”

I shoved aside my anger with Axel and followed my teammates. Once my blades hit the ice, I did what I always did, I got in the zone. Out here, I wasn’t struggling with my insecurities, or worried about my past, or anything else.

I was exactly where I was meant to be.

The rink was packed with students proudly displaying the Sutton U green and gold, from sweatshirts to jackets and hats, and even banners. And of course, there was our mascot, the roaring cougar, working the fans into a frenzy. I spotted Jackson in the crowd with his friends, waving and clapping. Then Jackson stood up and turned around, showing off his jersey with Dane’s name and number on it.

I skated around the net and nudged our captain, pointing to Jackson. Dane glanced up at the crowd and waved to his boyfriend. Their smiles were nearly blinding and for a split second, I envied my friend. Not that I wanted to go down that road. Not with anyone. I’d tried the relationship thing, and it had fucked me up, bad. No way was I doing that again.

And being around Axel was a constant reminder of that fact. I shook my head, needing to cut loose from the past and remain focused on the present.

“Stop poking the bear before every game,” a deep voice muttered behind me.

I came to a sharp stop and turned to face another giant on our team, Silas Moss. The guy was a mountain of a hockey player, with long, dirty blond hair, a full beard, and tons of tatts. Silas was a skilled, if somewhat inconsistent, defenseman. But unlike sunny Kayden, this d-man was quietly intense, often sarcastic when spoken to, and had a rebellious air, like he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought about him. Defensive, if you will. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Silas was the oldest guy on the team at twenty-two and after taking a year off from school and hockey, he was still trying to find his rhythm and prove his place on this team. As to the reason why he was gone for two semesters, no one knew. There was plenty of speculation but since Silas barely spoke to anyone, he was a mystery. The only other bit of information I gleaned about him, courtesy of Kayden, was that Silas had a younger brother.

“I didn’t start it,” I replied automatically.

Fuck, even I could admit that I sounded like a petulant brat. With Axel around, that was no surprise.

Silas shook his head. “You don’t have to pour gasoline on the freaking fire.”

He had a point. I hated to admit it, but he was right. Maybe.

“Maybe my timing wasn’t good,” I bit out. “I just can’t help it. I’m not the type to let insults slide. It’s just not me.”

Not anymore. In the past, yes, because I wanted everyone to like me. But I learned a hard lesson about being too nice. A lesson that would stay with me forever.

Silas grunted in response and skated off. Okay, then.

“Good talking to you!” I called out and Silas raised his stick in acknowledgment.

At least, I think he was acknowledging me. One of these days I was going to have an actual conversation with that guy. I was a curious person and I made it a point to talk to everyone in my class and on my team. I was a lot like Kayden in that way, except louder and with more sass. The only person I didn’t have any urge to get near was Axel; sometimes, a bad apple just needs binning.

The shrill sound of a whistle pierced the air and Coach Banning waved us over to the boards for our pregame scrum.

“Rowland, Lund, St. Pierre, Barak, Melnyk, Rocher, you’re up. Like I’ve said time and again, I want to see you working cohesively. Remember our strategy. Mansfield is weaker when it comes to their offensive plays so keep your eyes out for any advantage and press hard. This season’s ramping up and there’s no time for bullshit,” Banning barked. “Get out there and get that win.”

Everyone tapped their sticks on the ice and shouted ‘cougars!’ before we skated off to take our positions.

Dane faced off against Mansfield’s captain.

Just before the puck dropped, I glanced to my right. Axel’s glare cut sharper than my blades. I looked down, surprised I wasn’t bleeding all over the ice.

Then I remembered Coach’s words. Out here, there was no time for bullshit.

The only thing that mattered was winning.