Page 4 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)

TWO

AIDEN

Mikal & I drove onto campus at Manchester University, and excited didn’t begin to cover how I felt.

I’d been here to visit a few times, but knowing this would be my home for the next year or two blew my mind.

My eyes widened, and my mouth dropped open as I tried taking everything in at once.

JUCO had been eye-opening for a former street kid turned hockey star, but the campus wasn’t much bigger than the high school I attended before hockey took over my life and Anya started home-schooling me.

This was… yeah, there were no words. Other than much, much different.

And bigger. So much bigger.

I glanced in the passenger side mirror, catching a glimpse of Anya behind the wheel of my Jeep. Coach’s big hand patted my thigh, and I turned back to look at him as he navigated his truck through the throng of parents and kids moving in early.

“It’s a beautiful campus, no? ”

I nodded, swallowing as we continued driving, passing brick building after brick building until he stopped.

“You will do well here, Aiden. You’ll see. It is large, but it quickly becomes home.”

I nodded, clearing my throat to say, “I know.”

And I did. JUCO had stressed me out as well, but I fell back to what I knew at the end of the day.

It gave me the opportunity to regroup before the next day.

I wasn’t really a people person. I didn’t know if it was my personality or just another…

what was it my therapist called it? Another trauma response.

Either way, I didn’t much care for people in general, and being able to live at home during JUCO had limited my exposure to others.

That wouldn’t be an option here. I would be sharing an apartment in the hockey dorm with three other guys. And it worried me.

What if I couldn’t get along with them?

What if they hated me?

Those thoughts spiraled, always to the other worries I’m sure all elite-level athletes had.

What if I couldn’t hack it?

What if I let everyone down?

I tried to keep my anxiety about, well, everything under wraps so Coach and Anya weren’t aware, but I caught them eyeing me over the last few days, so I felt positive they had an inkling. At the very least. Then there was the issue with Coach Muncy.

The guy got caught gambling. Specifically, gambling on college hockey was a huge no-no. Players and staff weren’t allowed to gamble. It was part of the league regulations .

He wasn’t the type of guy I wanted to play for, but to achieve my goal of making it to the pros, I needed on a D1 team, and this was Coach’s school, so I sucked it up and signed on the dotted line.

But now he was gone. At least with him, I had an idea of what to expect.

This new guy I didn’t know at all. No one really did.

He’d been a recluse for years and years after taking a puck to the head.

“I know it’s scary, Aiden, starting over somewhere new, but at least Coach Muncy is gone. The man was an asshole.”

“But this assistant coach…”

“Will Grigor was a terrific player. And he’s been just as effective off the ice as an assistant coach.

He will do everything he can to keep this team moving forward and winning games.

You focus on the things you can control…

mindset, food, hockey, and school… and leave Will and the coaches to their jobs and the university to theirs in finding a new head coach. ”

I wanted to believe him. I really did, but my thoughts spun around in a whirlwind. A blender on high went slower.

“We’re here, kiddo.”

I glanced around and sighed. This area of campus didn’t look so intimidating. Unlike the enormous, brick-and-stone buildings we passed, which felt like some medieval, old-world town where everything was about status, money, and who you knew.

Oh! Wait! That’s what a lot of these big-name schools were. Without Coach’s name and reputation behind me, I was sure I wouldn’t have gotten in.

I grabbed Coach’s arm and he stopped, driver’s door open, half in, half out of the car as he looked back at me .

“What’s wrong?”

“Does Coach Grigor know you’re my dad?”

Like Anya, he beamed at the name. I needed to get over myself and start calling them my parents, Mom and Dad.

They were the best thing that ever happened to me.

My birth mom, what I could remember of her, tried as best as she could, at least that’s what I told myself, but her addiction was just too strong.

And my sperm donor, in my opinion, was a waste of space.

Who left their kid behind when they couldn’t deal with their wife’s drug use?

Coach’s… Dad’s big hand gripped my shoulder, giving me a little shake. “Yes, but he’s assured me that no one will be told unless you tell them.”

A deep breath filled my lungs, and I exhaled heavily. I didn’t want special treatment.

“What are you guys waiting for? This stuff won’t carry itself upstairs.”

Anya’s voice pierced the air as she came toward us. She’d driven my SUV so I could sleep on the way. It would be the last time I got to sleep in for a while. So I’d taken full advantage of it for most of the trip.

We piled out of the truck, and Anya sent me off to check in while she directed Coach… Mom sent me off while she directed Dad as to how she wanted things unloaded and who was to carry what.

My parents, being who they were, got us on campus so early that there wasn’t even a check-in line yet.

“Sport?” The girl behind the check-in table asked .

“Hockey?” I responded, taking a step back to ensure I approached the person behind the hockey sign, not the football sign.

The guy sitting behind the football sign bit his lip, and while it might’ve kept him from laughing, his face said exactly what I was thinking.

“Name?” she asked.

“Aiden Mercer.”

The doors behind me opened. I turned to see who it was, gulping at the sight of one of my fellow teammates.

Holy freaking hell.

Donald “Trey” Malachek.

Son of Donnie Malacheck.

Grandson of Donald Malacheck.

Team member of Team USA.

Olympic Gold medalist.

And leading candidate for the Hobey Baker Award.

When I turned back, the girl, Lexi, by the name tag, had her head craned to see who came through the double doors.

A comical look had taken over her face. Her eyes were big, round, and bulging, her mouth equally round, and her chin touched her chest. She shot up from the table, knocking over the chair she’d been sitting in as she said, “Ohmigod! He can’t see me like this! ”

At least that’s what I think she said. It sounded more like a bunch of syllables mashed together into one long, incoherent word.

She took off like a flash. All of us watched her disappear through a door on the opposite side of the common area lobby. The football guy cracked up, doubling over as laughter burst from him.

“Aiden Mercer, right?”

I looked to the right, and Trey stood there looking at me, his brows raised as if he was waiting for me to say something.

“Fuck! Please tell me I didn’t fuck up your name,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh, umm, no. I mean, yeah, I’m Aiden Mercer.”

Mentally, I smacked my face because here I stood, in front of the best player in all of college hockey, if not in all of hockey outside the pro teams, and I was acting just as bad as the puck bunny that took off running at the sight of the hockey star.

“Thank fuck. I suck at names, but since we’re rooming together…”

“We’re rooming together?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“Yeah.”

I nodded, confused. I’d asked the housing office who was rooming with me, and they said the assignments hadn’t been finalized by the coach and refused to give me the info.

“How did you get your hands on the roommate info?” I asked.

“Muncy let me pick. I figured you might make a good fit. ”

“Here’s your packet,” the guy behind the table said.

“Inside is your temporary ID, to get you into the room. You’ll need to get the new one done in the next forty-eight hours, because that one will expire and you’ll be shit out of luck if the student services office is closed.

Here are the contact numbers for housing, resident advisors, and dorm directors.

There are also some forms you need to complete and return to the housing office.

It’s your emergency contact info, as well as a checklist to note any damages.

I recommend taking pictures, just in case.

Then, of course, there’s your room assignment, parking pass, info about the move-in events that start after the official move-in day, and well, you’ve already met one of your roommates, but their info is in there, too. ”

I blinked, completely stunned at the onslaught of info. I opened my mouth to say thank you, and he cleared his throat, my unfocused gaze honing in on his face as he said, “So, yeah, umm, I think that’s about it.”

“Umm… thanks,” I ducked my head to check his name tag, “Charlie.”

His face turned pink, and he stammered a “You’re welcome,” before digging through the stack of packets and handing Trey his.

Trey thanked the guy, smacked me on the back, and said, “Let’s go check out this crib, roomie.”

It took a bit of a shove from Trey to get my feet moving. As soon as the dorm’s front doors closed behind us and we were halfway to Coach’s truck, Trey lost it. “Dude, someone has a puck bunny.”

“What? No. He’s… ”

Trey laughed, his hand gripping the back of my neck, and gave me a little shake.

“A guy? Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference here.

They come in all shapes, sizes, and genders.

Looking the way you do, with the hint of liner and gloss, he pegged you as queer, and he’s been chasing players since the day he got on campus.

If you’re looking for a good lay and you swing that way, far be it for me to assume based on appearance, then give him a go. He’s a fun ride.”

He left me standing with a two-fingered salute and a “see you upstairs” as he turned in the opposite direction. His famous dad and model mom stood next to a massive SUV.