Page 15 of Puck Shots (Love The Game #6)

Cosmo

I grab an OJ from the fridge, down it in two and go to toss the bottle in the recycling when I spot the same bottle only missing its label already in there.

My eyes immediately dart around the room looking for the origami Eli has made from it.

Hopefully, no one else has found it already.

I’ve come to find his little creations around the house and have about fifteen in my top drawer now.

I spot something white peeking through a bunch of bananas in the fruit bowl.

When I slide it out, I find the label folded into the shape of a monkey. How does he do this?

“Are you sure about this?” Eli asks from behind me, and I slip the monkey into my pocket and sling my training bag over my shoulder.

“Sure. I swear, skating is not as hard as it looks.”

“It looks pretty hard. Maybe I should just get video from the sidelines.”

“Don’t be silly. Look, at least give it a shot.”

“Fine, but if I totally suck, you have to promise not to laugh.”

“I’d never laugh at you.”

His cheeks blush a little as his lips pick up in that adorable smile.

“Okay, let’s go before I lose my nerve.”

Getting ice time is hard with hockey season starting soon, but I was lucky to grab an hour before training today. I slip on my skates and pass Eli, my pair from last year. He watches intently as I do them up, copying me and then standing hesitantly.

“So right now you have the guards on. When we get down here, you’ll have to take them off, and then we’ll step onto the ice.”

“I’m really not sure about this.”

“You’ll be fine, trust me.”

He follows me down to the gate, and I take off my guards and step through to the ice. The second my blades touch it, I feel like I’m home. A rush of calm washes over me, and I take a second to breathe in the cool air as I turn in place, waiting for Eli to join me.

“Here goes nothing,” he says, taking off the guards and gripping the rail so tight his fingers turn white.

When he steps onto the ice, his first skate goes to slide out to the side, and he pulls it back, slamming his ankle against the wall with a thud.

“Take it slow,” I say, moving to stand beside him. He takes a breath, holding it as he lifts his other leg to step fully onto the ice with me.

“See hard part done,” I cheer, and he laughs, finally letting the air out of his lungs in a soft cloud.

“Staying upright is going to be the hard part,” he says, his legs wobbling a little.

“Actually getting back up after you fall down is harder.”

“Like I needed more reason to not fall on my ass.”

“Just keeping it real. Okay, so first things first, you need to relax.”

“I’m essentially standing on two knives, trying not to fall over and slice through my arm or something, not exactly a calm situation.”

“Take a slow breath, feel the cool air fill your lungs, focus on the way it cools your whole body from the inside out, forget about your feet, just focus on your breath,” I tell him, and he closes his eyes and breathes slowly, purposefully.

I watch his chest move up and down as his warm breath sends clouds of air past his lips.

“Now take my hands,” I say, and surprisingly, he reaches out with one hand first, still his eyes remain closed.

“Trust me,” I say, and his other hand lifts up to find mine. His grip is tight at first, and as I pull him away from the wall, his feet gliding along the ice following my direction, his grip starts to lessen and his eyes flicker open.

“Holy shit, I’m doing it.”

“See, easy,” I say, and he turns his head to see how far he’s come, but he turns his body too much, and then like we’re in some slow-motion skit, his skates go out from under him.

He grabs my arms, eyes going wide, spinning us sideways until I land with a thud, back against the ice, his long warm body pressed against mine.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, trying to push himself up, but the tips of his skates slide over the ice, and he lands on me again with an oomph.

“It’s okay. Turning your head while skating is like checking your blind spot when driving. You don’t want the whole car to turn with you, so you need to focus on only turning your head.”

“Blind spot, okay, umm, how do we get up?”

“You aren’t comfortable down here?”

His cheeks take on an even warmer hue, and his glasses slip further down his nose. I reach up and push them back, but they slip down again instantly.

“I’m… there’s no way to answer that question without giving you the wrong idea.”

“Oh,” I replied, a knot forming in my stomach. “Okay, umm, well, ahh, roll onto your side,” I say, helping shift his weight off me so that I can pull myself up.

“That looked easy enough,” he says as he tries to stand just like I did and then falls down instantly again. I try not to laugh.

“Careful. Try getting on your knees first,” I say, and an image of him on his knees for a whole other reason flashes in my mind, and my cock twitches. The way he smirks my way has me wondering if he could have thought of the same thing. But there’s no way, right?

“Okay, umm, I think I can do this,” he says, and he lifts one leg up. His skate slides forward, but I block it with my own, giving him something to leverage off to stand, and when he takes my hand, he’s up in one swift push.

“Ready to go again?” I ask.

“Absolutely, but maybe, umm, is it okay if you hold on for a bit?”

My stomach swirls.

“Sure,” I say, and he links his arm with mine. “We can go as slow as you like.”

It takes about twenty minutes for him to be confident enough to stand on his own and another twenty before he’s moved away from me, skating slowly across the rink in diagonals.

“See, it’s fun, right?” I ask about skating around.

“It’s sort of like what I imagine flying might feel like.”

“That’s what I think, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The guys think I’m full of it, but when I’m zooming down the ice, it’s like I’m not even touching the ground. It’s…”

“Freeing?”

“Yeah. It’s like it’s the only time I feel like I know what I’m doing.”

“I get that. It’s like when I’m working on a problem, or in a game of chess, when my brain is focused, I just feel…right.”

“Yo, Flash!” Luka calls as he and a few of the guys from the team burst through the doors. Shit, has it been an hour already?

“I should get off the ice. I’ll record a few things from the stands for now.”

“Do you need help?” I ask as he wobbles.

“Nope, I got it. Deep breaths, stay calm, just like flying,” he says with a wink, and he slowly moves to the edge where we stepped through. Luka is by my side a second later.

“Do you really think your boy can help us with his science stuff?” he asks, nodding towards Eli.

“He’s not my boy.”

“You’re sure spending a lot of time with him though.”

“Is someone getting jealous?”

“No,” he replies with an obvious pout in his tone.

“I promised Calvin I’d keep an eye on him, you know, so he has a fair shot at getting into the house.”

“Sure that’s all it is?”

“What else would it be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. All I can say is since school started, there have been zero nights I’ve had to hide my head under the pillow while you get it on with some random.”

“I’ve been too busy with classes and training.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“It has nothing to do with Eli. You know I totally messed up my chance to get drafted last year with all the partying and fuckups. This is my last shot. Besides, we’re just friends helping each other out. I’m helping him get into the house, and he’s going to help us with our moves on the ice.”

“When he can’t even skate.”

“I thought you were all for his idea?” I ask, slowing.

He shrugs. “I will try anything that could help get us drafted this year, but I’m not entirely convinced your boy is the answer.”

“Again, not my boy, and why didn’t you say anything before?”

“You just seemed really excited about it, and I suppose I was…excited you were excited.”

“You’ll be excited, too, when he helps you land that spin pass you’ve been struggling with all summer.”

“I almost had it the other day.”

“Almost isn’t good enough, though, is it?”

“Fine, if he helps me figure it out, I’ll get excited.”

“And you’ll give him your vote.”

“You really think KOK is the right fit for him?”

“You don’t?”

He shrugs, and I want to punch him.

“We’ve got a few guys in the house not into sports. Why should Eli be excluded when we accepted them?”

“It’s more than being into sports, though. It’s about connecting with the rest of the brothers. Can you honestly say he’s doing that?”

“He’s trying to.”

“Yeah, but so far the only brother he’s really connected with is you, and as much as you like to think the whole universe revolves around you, in this case, Flash, he’ll need more than you on his side to stay.”

I hate to admit it, but he isn’t wrong. I’ve been trying to make things easier for Eli, but that’s meant keeping him almost all to myself. I should back off, let him get to know the other guys better. He should be bonding with the other pledges, like I did with Luka in our first year.

“Firstly, fuck you. The entire world does revolve around me. Look at us right now, talking all about me. Oh, and second. I get your point. I might have taken this whole looking out for him a little too far. But promise me you’ll consider the vote.”

“You got it, brother.”

***

I skate as fast as I can down the ice and slam against Luka, who’s playing on the other side for the training game.

“Dude, that drilled,” he complains as I skate away with the puck.

I scan the stands to find Eli, hoping to catch his reaction, but instead of cheering or even smiling at my hit and steal, he’s watching me with a quiet curiosity instead, his phone raised as he records our moves.

I pump my legs harder, passing the puck back and forth, the cool air rushing past my face, the net getting bigger and bigger.

I line up for the slap shot, but I’m going too fast, and my stick comes down a second too late, and I spin to try to regain the puck, but their center collects it and heads right back up the ice.

I go after him and catch up just as he sends the puck right into the glove of our goalie.

“So close,” I joke, shoving him sideways as I pass.

“Closer than you, Flash. What was it you got hold of a second ago, oh, that’s right…air.”

“Fuck you, I’ll land that super-speed slap shot soon enough, and then you’ll all be fucked.”

He laughs. “Same team, dude, you land that super-speed slap shot and the other teams will be fucked.”

“Oh, right.”

“Come on, try it again,” Luka calls, sending me the puck, and I take it up to the other end before turning and going full speed again, but the same shit happens when I try for it again.

I can make it easy if I slow down a little, every player out on the ice can hit a slap shot.

It’s a fundamental skill that we still practice for a multitude of reasons.

For most, it’s just to maintain good power and accuracy, but it’s also because practice isn’t the same as doing it for real in a game.

The pressure of the crowd, your team, the drive for the win; it all can mess you up.

Practicing helps it become automatic. But for me, I’m just going too fast for the puck to keep up when I raise the stick.

If I can’t figure this out, I’ll have to slow down every time I want to shoot for the net, and that will suck balls.

“It’s no use,” I complained and stopped at the side to grab a drink. Coach has already left for the day, leaving us some personal time on the ice. I think he secretly watches from the cameras around the place.

“You think your boy can help you land it?” Luka says, joining me, and I shake my head at him again calling Eli my boy. Only the more he says it, the less I hate it.

“Yo, Eli, think you can help Flash out with his suck ass super slap shot?” Luka calls, and Eli lowers his phone and jogs down the stairs toward us, wearing a shirt as green as his eyes and a big smile.

“I think I can. I’ve got some footage now, and I’ve half-written the program already that will analyze the angles and movements.”

“So this is the science genius that’s going to help us win this year?” our goalie, Ferris , asks, stopping at the side with us.

“Eli, this is Ferris, but we all call him Reddy. He’s a goalie, so he’s a little weird, but you’ll get used to him.”

“I’m not weird,” Reddy replies.

“Sure you are,” Luka and I both say and then laugh.

“I’m a physics major. I don’t mind weird,” Eli says, brushing a loose curl behind one ear, and Reddy smiles, pumping his brows.

“Good to know. I’ve been looking for a tutor. Do you think you might be able to help me out?”

“You don’t even take any science courses,” I interject, and Reddy grins.

“Who said I wanted tutoring for a class?”

My heart thumps in my ears. Is Reddy seriously hitting on Eli right now?

“Come on, guys, we’ve got the ice for another thirty minutes. Let’s see what we can do in that time,” Luka says, pulling me away. “You good?” he whispers as we skate to the center.

“Yeah, why?” I ask my chest, filling with the calming cool air it’s come to love.

“You looked like you were about to deck Reddy for hitting on your boy.”

“He’s not my boy,” I say again, only this time I hate the way it sounds because I think I might want him to be.