Page 45

Cody

The bus ride to New Hampshire was abysmal. A rancid, rotten egg smell permeated the bus—I blamed Theo. He always managed to stink up the bus when we had away games.

This wasn’t just any away game. We were on our way to the Fall Classic.

The stakes were high, and we were all anticipating a brutal tournament. It would start with a round robin. Teams would be divided into small groups, and each team would play one another. The team with the most points scored after the match-ups would move on to the semi-finals, and then the finals.

Rafael sat beside me, his scowl no doubt because of the smell. With the suspension behind him, Coach let him play in the two games leading up to the Classic.

I could see his nerves brewing when he first stepped on the ice, but he got over it quickly. Rafael was one of the sickest players I’d ever seen. I beamed with pride when he scored his first goal after the suspension. The impulse to run over and kiss him was palpable. I wanted to scream, “That’s my man!”

Instead, we hugged like teammates do. It was getting harder to keep up the charade, but we both decided it would be for the best. Between attending Alcoholics Anonymous weekly, starting at a new school, and seeing a therapist, Rafael had enough on his plate.

Words can’t even describe how proud of him I was. He’d have the occasional nightmare, but he didn’t turn to booze. His therapist taught him a deep breathing exercise; if it were really bad, he’d wake me up.

Because I told him to.

My head turned to look at his beautiful face. His dark features and blue eyes never ceased to knock me off my feet.

His hand rested on the seat between us, and I surreptitiously lowered mine to meet his. My pinky linked with his, and he turned and gave me a big smile.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“Nah. We’ll thump them all.”

Bluffer. I knew he was nervous. It was completely normal to worry that one might need a few games to get back into the swing of things after a suspension.

“Big, tough man,” I remarked with a comically deep voice.

“Fuck off.” He gave me a playful punch on the shoulder.

“You’re going to do great,” I told him. “You were amazing during the last two games.”

Rafael took a long, deep breath. “It was only two games. The round robin will be intense, and I haven’t played back-to-back games like that in a minute. I’m just worried about my endurance.”

“You were always lightning fast during practice,” I assured him. “Plus, it’s not just you out there. We have to work together as a team.”

“I know you’re right, but this means a lot to me. I’m putting the pressure on myself to be amazing.”

A month ago, Rafael would have never admitted that.

I knew therapy was a good idea.

“You’ve got this, and we’ve got your back.”

“I’ve got yours too, angel.”

My lips curled in a smirk as I whispered, “You’ve got my back or my ass? Cuz, I’d prefer the latter.”

“I’ll hit that ass from the back as soon as we get to the hotel,” he whispered.

“Now, there’s my man. You think pounding me through the wall would boost your confidence?” I asked.

“That, and you sitting that magical ass on my face for a while will make me fucking unstoppable.”

“All of that can be arranged,” I said.

“Good boy.”