Page 28 of Puck Shots (Love The Game #6)

Eli

I ’ve never been great with crowds, and less great when the attention is all on me, so after being voted into the KOK house and finishing the rituals of admission, their term, not mine.

I decided to step out and grab some air while the other successful pledges take center stage at their welcome party.

The cool night air fills my lungs with each steadying breath, and as my heart slows to its regular resting rate, I lower my head on my knees and just sit in the sound of it all.

I did it. I really did it. I somehow managed to not totally screw this up.

Except was it really me that did anything?

I know Cosmo had more to do with me getting in than even he is letting on, and I mean more than helping me study for the frat quizzes and giving me pointers about how to get the guys on side.

How many favors did he have to call in to get me through the door?

“Eli,” his voice pushes through the hum of the noise behind me, and I look up.

Cosmo’s eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open in disbelief.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, rushing to him. “Was it the dinner?”

“Didn’t you make it?” he asks, and I almost laugh.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“I’ll tell them to change their minds,” he says, moving past me, a fire in his eyes I usually only see when he’s playing hockey. I reach for his arm and pull him back to me.

“You don’t have t—”

“I do, they have to see they made a mistake,” he says, voice pleading.

“But they didn’t.”

He cups my face, the warmth of his palms spreading through me. I was surprised how soft his hands actually were when he first touched me and haven’t been able to get enough of that feeling since. He kisses me, staying close when he says, “They did if they didn’t see how awesome you are.”

I laugh, my hands grip the sides of his jacket, and I pull him harder against me, kissing him again before explaining.

“You’re not listening. They did let me in. They voted yes.”

His eyes widen slightly, lips turning up at the corners in a brilliant smile.

“You’re a KOK?” he asks as his hands move to grip my arms.

“I will never probably get used to saying it, but yes. I’m a…KOK.”

“You’re a KOK,” he cheers again, looping his arms all the way around my back and spinning me in place. It’s like flying while being hugged by the warmest bear in the world, and I love it.

***

“Where do you want this?” Cosmo asks, holding up my chess set.

“On the bedside table, thanks.”

“So how do you like your upgrade?”

“I don’t think sharing a room with two other guys is really that much of an upgrade. How did you score the attic when you were a pledge just like me last year?”

“The attic was a shithole last year, trust me. It was the worst room in the house; we slept on mattresses on the floor for the first month.”

“Then how?”

“Luka’s parents came to visit.”

“For real?”

“Yeah, they put in the bathroom first. We got the rest of the furniture from yard sales nearby and sidewalk collections.”

“So it’s not all Luka’s parents doing then?”

“I guess not.”

“Well, this sure does beat the air mattress,” I say, falling back on the bed. Cosmo leaps and lands beside me, immediately hugging my side and kissing me.

“Did you set up a code with your new roomies?” he asks, kissing down my neck and sending a shiver through my body down to my balls.

“What code?”

“You know, like a sock on the door handle so they know not to come in unless they want to see a show.”

I shove him back, shaking my head.

“No, we don’t have a code, and we won’t be putting on a show for anyone either.”

“You say that now, but wait until it’s been three weeks and we haven’t been able to find a single place to be alone together.”

“Remind me why we can’t use your room again?”

“He caught me at a weak moment,” he says, trying to justify why he agreed to Luka having first dibs on their room to “entertain” guests. “He wasn’t even seeing anyone when I made that deal.”

“Well, he is now. But don’t worry, we always have the stacks.” I laugh.

He climbs from the bed, and I follow just as Magnus walks in, lugging his trunk in with him held high on his chest. I needed Cosmo to help carry mine in, and I still struggled with my end.

“I claim the bed by the window,” Magnus says, but Cosmo pipes up.

“Already taken, pick another.”

“Loft one it is,” he replies, dropping his trunk in front of the desk that sits under one of the two loft beds on the left wall. “This is better anyway, more desk space to set up my gaming stuff.

It was good Cosmo suggested I get in first to pick my bed.

I never had a bunk bed as a kid, but we always had to sleep in them when we were on vacation with the rest of the extended family.

The parents would pick some Cabin Rentals place that has a pool, and I’d lose whatever game it was that John insisted we play for the choice of beds.

Somehow, I always ended up on the bottom bunk, then one summer we lucked out and the room had two bunks, I was going to get my first chance at the prized top bunk.

I rolled off in the middle of the night and broke my left wrist. First year, I lost the science fair, too.

Couldn’t get my rocket built with one hand in a cast. So it’s ground floor beds for me from then on out.

“Is this going to be a regular thing?” Magnus asks looking first at Cosmo and then to me.

“You got a problem with that?” Cosmo asks immediately on the defensive.

“Nope, I just want to work out some kind of system.”

Cosmo laughs and turns my way.

“See, I told you everyone has a system.”

***

I put the finishing touches on the presentation and scroll through the slides one more time.

“I swear I’ll be back in time. They said it’s just a casual meet and greet, nothing serious,” Cosmo says as he pulls on his dress shirt and jacket.

The action sends a waft of vanilla, coffee, and his woody scent my way.

He’s been invited to lunch this time with a coach and a few players from Chicago that are in town and wanted to make time to meet him.

“It’s fine, really, don’t rush out on my account.”

“But I promised.”

I already told him that he’s already stepped up for me in more ways to count.

“I don’t want you thinking about me at lunch.

Chicago would be an amazing team to be picked up by.

Did you know that the Argonne National Laboratory is near Chicago?

They have some of the most in-depth physics research out there.

Oh, and they have one of the world’s brightest x-ray light sources allowing them to study the structure of things at the atomic and molecular level. ”

“I’ll be sure to ask about it at lunch.”

“Why would you ask about it at lunch? You should be talking about the hockey team.”

He chuckles and turns his head slowly my way.

“You’re so right. What was I thinking?”

“Are you nervous?”

“A little, does it show?”

I reach over and grab the marker from his dresser and grab his hand, turning it over to see his wrist.

“Here, this will help,” I say, popping the cap and brushing my thumb over the faded lightning bolt on his wrist for a second before tracing it over in fresh black marker. “Feel better?”

“Actually, yes. Can I have that?” he asks, and I hand it over. He flips my grip on his wrist to turn mine up.

“Now you’ll have one, too, just in case I don’t make it in person.”

He traces the felt of the marker over my skin, the gentle scratch not really bringing me any calming vibes.

I know I said I don’t need him there, but that doesn’t mean I am not totally freaking out.

I am going to make a total fool of myself, trip up the stairs, throw up all over my laptop and fail this first presentation altogether.

When he’s done, he lifts my wrist to his lips and blows gently over the sensitive skin, sending a shiver through me all the way to my balls.

My eyes close as I let the sensation wash over me, my cock thickening, and when he presses his warm lips over the same spot, I let out a soft moan.

“How long do we have?” I ask, and his kiss moves up my inner forearm.

“Long enough.”

Kissing and stumbling our way to the bathroom, I’m careful not to mess up his shirt and jacket and hang them on the back of the door. His pants are off next, also hanging over one of the hooks.

Once my shirt is over my head, he’s lifting my other wrist to his mouth, kissing the same spot, and it’s unbelievable how hot it’s making me.

I knew that there were other zones or whatever that could be arousing, but it never occurred to me that the inner wrist was one of them.

I give his ass a squeeze, then move my grip to his hard cock, stroking him slowly.

His lips move up my arm until he’s nuzzling the crook of my elbow, and fuck me if my knees don’t wobble at the way the sensation travels through my body.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” I breathe, unzipping myself and letting my hard cock spring free. I step closer, wedging us together in my grasp, and he sucks my arm harder, and sweeps his tongue in circles over the soft skin.

His free hand is pressed tight at my back, helping to hold me close as I work us, faster and faster.

Our breaths heavy, soft moans escaping from our lips, my balls ache as the pressure builds, and then he releases my arm, grabs the back of my neck, and kisses me hard, his tongue forcing its way past my lips.

He presses me against the wall, the cold tile sending a chill through my spine that’s in perfect contrast to the heat between my legs, and it’s enough to send me to the edge. My gut swirls and my balls pull up tight as steady pumps become greedy thrusts and my orgasm hits hard.

He breaks our kiss, his blue-gray eyes locked on mine, swollen lips parted as he sucks in a breath, then lets out a guttural moan as his cock spills between us.

When we’re both spent, he lowers his head to my shoulder.

“Well, I can’t think of a better way to settle my nerves, how about you?”

“Pretty sure I’ve never felt this relaxed,” I say, and he kisses the crook of my neck just once, then steps back to start cleaning himself up.

“I better get redressed,” he says, tossing the washcloth in the hamper and washing his hands.

“I might need more…relaxing later tonight,” I say, and he gives me that cheeky grin of his.

“I’m pretty sure I can make that happen.”

“Oh, I know you can. Just like you’ll make your NHL dream happen. You can do anything you set your mind to, Cosmo. You see that, right?”

“Since I met you, yeah, I think I do.”

***

I’ve got my first big presentation, and as I step up to the lectern, my heart is racing like a jackhammer, the calm from my earlier release with Cosmo waning.

I’m the first to present, too, which I haven’t yet decided is a good or bad thing, mostly because I have nothing to compare this feeling to.

When the professor posted the class order, my heart sank seeing my name at the top.

I hate getting up in front of small groups, let alone big ones like this.

A full class of eighty-seven students. Though with me being the one presenting, I guess I am in front of eighty-six, but then there is the professor and his aid, so eighty-eight.

Fuck. Stop doing the math and just focus on your presentation.

You’ve run it twenty times with Cosmo. You know the data.

You know the program. You know what you have to do.

My palms are clammy, and I wipe them on the front of my shirt when I’m sure no one can see before opening my laptop and connecting the cord to feed my screen directly into the projector overhead.

My professor sits in an open seat at the front and watches me with an impatient raised brow directed my way.

“The study of mm…” I stutter, swallowing the lump that has risen to my throat and wishing I had brought up my bottle of water from my seat as well.

My gaze scans the back of the room. Cosmo isn’t here, and the churn in my stomach grows into a tornado.

Don’t throw up, I tell myself as I take a steadying breath, my gaze catching the corner of the black lightning bolt on my wrist. Cosmo might not be here, but he believes in me.

I have to believe in myself. I can do this.

“As I was saying,” I begin, my voice coming out clearer across the floor than I expect, and it gives me a little boost. “The physics of human movement has been widely studied, however, with the introduction of 3D generative technologies and modern mathematical modeling, my program can go further.”

The professor sits up straighter. He’s interested.

The whole class is watching. No one is fiddling with their phones or chatting in whispers.

My heart is still racing, but now it’s different.

It’s like there’s a shift from terrified to excited.

I keep going. “My program translates theoretical adjustments to movement into real-world applications and enhancements. Just take the video on slide one.” I click, and the screen shows Cosmo flying down the ice on one of his failed attempts at his slap shot.

“Taking real footage and inputting the data, I was able to simulate the skater and make adjustments to stick angle, stride timing, and shot release to present new outcomes.” I click to the next slide, my heart beating steadier now, and as I show the generative image of Cosmo making the shot utilizing his now signature double-tap, I can’t help but smile.

More than one student in the class is smiling up at the screen, too, actually interested in what I’ve been doing, my professor is leaning forward on his seat, intently studying the screen, and that’s when I really know, I’ve got this.

I nail the rest of the presentation, zero mumbling, exhibiting the confidence and cool Cosmo does on the ice, and when I finish, my professor actually claps. A few students do, too, and my gaze goes again to the back of the room, hoping for just a moment that Cosmo might have made it after all.