Page 23

Xander, December 3rd

M eeting off campus at a diner had been Nate’s idea. I guess he’s got his eyes on the curly-haired waitress, going by the looks she throws him before we sit down. Behind the counter there’s a neon sign spelling out “bats it shines in a slightly different red. The mix hurts to look at, like a too-bright phone screen.

I’m not a big fan of milkshakes, but I pick up the folded menu anyway. It helps me block out Nate, who’s looking at the door every time it opens to check if it’s his twin. After what happened when I last saw Van der Hoff, I have no idea how I should interact with him. I’ve had a few casual hook-ups over my years at St. Bernard’s, but none of them were the brother of my best friend.

Sitting together in a diner to talk about an expel- and hockey-league-ban-worthy secret isn’t what I usually do after getting off together. I’m not about to have The Relationship Talk with someone I’ve kissed once and then jerked off with. It’s beside the point that he also hates my guts, and I’m not sure I can stand him either.

However, I do think chatting about where this leaves us for next year would have been a smart move between the two of us. But there hadn’t been any time left, barely enough for me to make it back into the other locker room before my teammates came walking in, carrying the weight of our loss against the Badgers.

“Hm?” I mutter when I notice Nate is looking at me expectantly, meaning I missed his question.

“Do you know yet if you’ll go home for Christmas?” he repeats himself, hopefully thinking I was too lost in the selection of ice-cream sundaes and crazy milkshake combinations, such as cinnamon-cranberry-mint.

“Probably not. I mean I’ve just been home for Thanksgiving. I can’t afford another plane ticket.”

“You should come home with me,” he says immediately, like he expected my answer.

“What?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s invited me in the past, at least once a year since we’ve known each other. Nate is exactly the kind of person who wants to have his friends and family around himself all the time. He’ll probably call me every day if I decide to stay behind in our dorm.

I’m saved from giving an answer by the simultaneous arrival of his brother and our waitress.

“Oh, I’ll give you another moment then.” She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear and twirls back to the bar.

“Why is he here?” Van der Hoff huffs by way of greeting as he slides into the booth next to Nate. He pointedly doesn’t look my way. I’m glad about it, because it gives me time to level out my voice to an even drawl.

“Because I didn’t get you both banned from the NHL?”

“And I wanted to tell you some good news.” Nate neatly talks over my jab.

“The Pioneers finally reached out to me again, so it all worked out. Milkshakes are on me!” He grins at me first, then his brother. It’s good that they’re busy with each other, because my brows shoot up in disbelief.

I don’t think it’s fair that Nate is continuing his lie of having to impress some scouts that never existed.

But the words are already out.

“That’s good,” Van der Hoff says so quietly that I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want me to hear. I see the waitress coming over so I raise my menu again, schooling my face behind it. If Nate wants his brother to believe that their charade worked, who am I to burst that bubble?

I bite my tongue and manage a smile by the time we’re asked about our orders.

“Also,” Nate starts again after ordering his extravagant milkshake: banana-chocolate with a swirl of caramel—yes, of course topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. “I want to celebrate that my best friend and brother are finally getting along!”

“Getting along?” I snort and shake my head. “Nate, we got thrown off the ice for fighting on Friday.”

“Yeah, but you two lived together for two weeks and both survived. And uh…” Nate wags his brows and I groan, knowing exactly what he’s hinting at.

Van der Hoff makes a disgusted noise, but I don’t think I’m imagining the light pink flush on his cheeks.

“That was before I knew it was him,” I growl, though Van der Hoff does his best to talk over me.

“As if smelling Hart’s dirty socks for two weeks makes me want to kill him less.”

“I mean you did let him kiss you, sooo…?”

“Nate.” I put as much warning into my voice as possible, willing my face to stay neutral and not warm up. There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. At least nothing that Nate would know. A kiss sounds perfectly innocent compared to licking Van der Hoff’s cum off of my hand.

“I– I was drunk!”

Nate ignores us both. “Maybe I should have a serious talk about what your intentions are with my little brother…”

“I’m only seven minutes younger than you!”

I ignore Van der Hoff’s protest in favor of frowning at my best friend.

“My intentions?”

“Oh, come on,” Nate huffs, but stops when our drinks arrive. We hurry to thank the waitress with polite smiles. In turn she asks sweetly if we need anything else before she disappears again. I turn back toward Nate.

“I have no intentions toward your brother.”

“Yeah, because you run around kissing just anyone.”

“Clearly it was a mistake.” I should have known that Nate would get the wrong idea, since any girl he has more than a friendly conversation with automatically gets announced as “girlfriend.”

Thankfully, for once, his hard-headed brother is on the same page as me.

“Doesn’t matter what his intentions are, I’m not interested. I got Michael , remember?”

“Right! Did you go on a date? I told you he was funny!”

“Not yet, but soon.”

“Oh…well, that’s good then,” Nate is quick to find a way back to his cheerful mood, scooting closer to his brother. “Probably for the best. But hey, at least you figured out that you can be crazy good when playing for the same team! The Rebels are really lucky!”

“It’s a good thing that we know we can play together,” I admit, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of Nate’s babble. It’s true that I had my reservations about playing with Van der Hoff, yet we did click incredibly well on the ice.

However, the relief over that is vastly overshadowed by the new confusion we created—and the misplaced stab of an unpleasant surprise.

I didn’t know Van der Hoff was seeing someone.

“I don’t know about him , but they sure will be lucky to have me! ” Van der Hoff grins, unabashed about his self-congratulation. Cocky bastard.

“If there’s any doubt, you can practice over the holidays. Xan’s coming home with us.”

“He what?!”

“I am?”

Nate raises his eyebrows at me. “Yeah, you are. You just said you won’t fly home, not even you need to study over Christmas , sitting around all by yourself in the dorms is depressing–”

I frown, trying to talk back, but Nate keeps going.

”– and our parents would be thrilled to see you again.”

“I mean there is a lot you can learn from me, Hart,” Van der Hoff chimes in, tilting his head to catch the straw between his lips. His tongue peeks out for the briefest of moments as he pushes it to the side of his mouth. For the first time since sitting down, he looks right at me, then his eyes close as he sucks and enjoys the sweet treat.

I bite my tongue hard enough that copper mixes with the strawberry flavor of my milkshake. So much could be read into his words. Not that I want to. Why would I? He’s just being an obnoxious idiot as always. I’ve been there and done that now–and we both know it was unthinkably stupid, even as it happened.

Oh God, so incredibly stupid!

My heart hammered the whole way back down the hallway, and I must have only heard half of Coach’s speech, because the whole time I kept waiting for someone to turn to me and ask what the fuck I was doing sneaking around.

There’s no way I can let anything like that happen again. Despite my resolve, I nod before I can think of more reasons why I shouldn’t go with the twins.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to twist my arm about it.”

“Great!” Nate grins, satisfied. He raises his huge milkshake glass as if we’re here to toast to some victory. Still, I raise my own and clink it against his.

Van der Hoff does the same.

I just barely catch the glance he shoots me before his eyes dart away again. No intentions at all , I remind myself.

Whatever is waiting for me at Casa Van der Hoff, at least Christmas won’t be boring.