Page 5 of Total Assist (For Puck’s Sake #13)

DASAN

There have been moments all week where I’ve wanted to show up at Coach Shively’s house and fuck him into oblivion for no other reason than I fucking miss the way he feels on my cock.

I’d been mistaken when I thought it would be easy to carry on with our lives as if the night at the hotel had been simply a random hookup.

I can’t stop staring at him. Remembering.

More than that, I can feel the way he watches me when I’m looking literally anywhere else. It’s as if he’s avoiding eye contact so he won’t stare when I’m staring, which is probably good. We don’t need our weird behavior to give us away.

This weekend is going to be a bigger challenge than usual though. Coach is having us go on a few excursions as a team to facilitate team building and whatever. Excursions that don’t inherently have anything to do with hockey.

When I pull into the parking lot at the base of the Hunt Lake Trail, there are already several vehicles here, many of which I recognize. One being Coach Shively’s. I pull in beside him and park, then I glance at the trees.

I’ve never been camping. I’m not sure I’m going to enjoy sleeping on the ground. I also didn’t go all out at a camping supply store. I went to a military surplus store instead and purchased the gear that they use to “camp.”

I chug the rest of my water in the car before getting out and heading for the trunk. Some of what I packed is definitely unnecessary, but I know I’ll be prepared for some things that my teammates might not be.

“Hey,” Willits greets as he joins me at my trunk. He’s already wearing his backpack full of gear. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” he comments.

I chuckle. “I’m not sure any of us are.” I glance toward the group of guys off to the side of the trailhead. “I have reservations about this. How many injuries do you think we’re going to walk away with?”

He laughs as I pull on my backpack and get it situated on my back. I don’t even want to know how heavy it is. I already feel tired.

“You have a water bladder?” Willits asks. He holds up the water hose when I look at him.

I nod and adjust so I can reach mine and get it situated for easy access. “Yes, though I have a feeling that with the extra weight, three liters isn’t going to be enough.”

“I think Coach said there was a water spigot halfway up where we can refill and another when we get to our camping spot.”

Yep, big reservations about this. I also brought like ten pairs of socks because I kept reading about the need to keep your feet dry or a lot of painful consequences can come of that.

And yes, I have a full first-aid kit, too.

As well as the few must-have things that Coach mentioned in an email, like a flashlight and whatever.

Curiously, he said that we didn’t need to worry about food because he had that taken care of.

As I look at him while shutting my trunk, I definitely don’t see how he’s going to feed twenty- seven big hockey players, him, our assistant coach, and the two physical trainers with the contents of his single backpack.

It’s not long before the majority of our team is there while a few more trickle in. I see our coaches periodically doing a headcount as if we’re preschoolers and they’re making sure that they have the number of bodies they’re supposed to.

I glance at Felton. He’s a giant all the time, but he looks even more massive right now. Ren taps the hose to Felton’s water bladder and wordlessly commands Felton to take a sip, which he does. I smirk and look back at our team milling about.

“Who’s missing?” Coach asks our assistant coach. “I’m only counting twenty-six.”

“Morris is missing,” Sebastian says.

Reno sighs and pulls his phone out. With the call on speakerphone, we all hear it ring.

“I’m sorry,” Morris says as soon as he answers, the sound of sirens filtering in along with his voice. “There’s an accident three cars ahead of me. He crossed the line, and it looked like some shit out of a movie.”

“Is anyone hurt?” Assistant Coach Reno asks.

“I don’t know. I’m about to turn around before more of the road gets blocked. It just happened like four minutes ago, and I was debating whether it made me a bad human to drive away.”

“They’re not going to let you help anyway,” someone says. “They’re not even going to take a statement from you.”

“Wiley’s right,” Coach says.

We hear Morris’ heavy breath. “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be late.”

“Drive safely,” Reno says.

Beethoven Morris is one of our new players this year, so I imagine he’s feeling very stressed right now because we’re waiting on him. Checking my watch, I see that he’s not technically late anyway. We weren’t scheduled to be here until nine this morning, and it’s still quarter to.

We mill about while we wait for Morris. I catch Coach’s eyes several times as they move through the team. I don’t even try to hide my smile, especially when I think I see a flush on his cheeks.

Finally, Morris arrives. He’s scrambling to join us, still apologizing.

“Not your fault,” Coach says.

“You’re not actually late,” Zenia Talmage says. “It’s 8:59. You’re still early.”

Coach inclines his head. “Zen is correct. Take a breath and relax. No need to begin the day stressed.”

Morris nods and takes a breath. “Thanks.”

“Alright,” Coach says. “First business. Everyone has water, correct?”

A chorus of yeses fill the air.

Coach nods. “Good. We’ll be hiking to the end of the trail. It’s not an aggressively steep incline, but the terrain can be challenging.” He holds up a beach ball. “You’re familiar with the practice of tossing a beach ball around during assemblies in high school, yeah?”

I nod along with my teammates.

“I thought that was just my backwoods hillbilly town,” someone mutters. Snickers fill the group.

“As we walk along the trail, you’ll be tossing this around.

Your goal is to keep it in the air and with us the entire time, all while not breaking an ankle.

This will hone your skill of knowing where your teammates are when they’re behind you—where the puck is when you don’t see it.

Be aware of your surroundings. You need to keep the ball in play until I tell you otherwise.

Do not let it go off the trail or hit the ground.

This isn’t keep-away. It’s keep-in-play.

Your job isn’t to aggressively hit it to the front of the line from the back. Use your teammates. Any questions?”

I shake my head as several teammates answer verbally.

“Good. Let’s get started.”

“We’ll be stopping halfway for a quick break and water refills for those who need it. You should all be hydrating. It’s not super hot, but I’m sure your packs are heavy, and you’re going to be strenuously hiking for several hours,” Mina says.

“I don’t think I’ve ever hiked,” Willits says. He steps beside me as we fall into line behind Ren and Felton. Ren’s besties, Zenia and Denny, are in front of them.

I glance behind us to see how far back our team goes. It’s important to know when that damn beach ball is heading in our direction. Seems we’re about in the middle of the pack. Not an awful place to be.

There’s a lot of chatter for the first hour or so before it dies off. The team has fun with the beach ball for about that time. That’s when it becomes clear that fit hockey players do not equate to endurance hikers.

“How long is this trail?” someone behind me asks.

“The site says 7.6 miles, but I don’t know if that meant one way or round trip,” someone else answers. I think that’s the voice of our second goalie, Marion Arivitis. The slight Greek accent gives it away.

“I think Coach said the hike should only be three or four hours,” Zenia says, “but that’s probably for more seasoned hikers. We’ll probably be four or five.”

“You think Coach is a seasoned hiker?” Felton asks.

Mentioning Coach Shively has me peeking around the bodies in front of me as if I can see him through the trees ahead.

I can’t, but I imagine him all sweaty and sexy.

I can see his tight ass in tight pants as he steps up rocks and over roots.

Thoughts of him occupy my mind while we continue hiking through the morning.

I’m ready for a nap once we hit the mid-way point where we fill up our water. Coach has a protein bar for each of us. I’m not so tired that I don’t smirk when our fingers brush. “Thanks, Coach. That’s very thoughtful of you,” I say.

His smile is polite, the same smile that everyone gets, but I think the way he stares into my eyes may be just for me. It lingers. I think his eyes follow me as I head back toward Willits and Felton to rest before we hit the rest of the trail.

It takes us four and a half hours to reach the end of the trail. We move a ways beyond the end until we reach a clearing by a lake where we’re going to set up for the night. There are two wooden crates waiting there, which tells me that there’s also a trail for vehicles close by.

Like my teammates, I drop my bag on the ground and stretch my back. I’m not the only one groaning as I do. Wow, I feel old. Thirty must be the new sixty. Oof.

“Can we cool off in the lake?” Zenia asks.

“Go ahead,” Coach answers. “Enjoy yourselves for a bit, then we’ll set up camp.”

“Can we swim naked?” Felton asks.

I shake my head, but Coach waves us off. “Go for it.”

I’m surprised by how many of my teammates decide to do just that. They strip bare and run into the water. I’m slower to strip, and unlike everyone else, I brought water shoes. Call me weird, but I don’t enjoy stepping on rocks or feeling anything potentially slimy under the water.

They’re tied to the outside of my pack so I don’t have to work extra hard to get at them. Once I’m naked save for my water shoes, I head for the water. Is it my imagination, or am I being watched? It feels as though there are eyes on me from behind.

The water feels almost cold as I step into it. I don’t join the ruckus of my teammates but head off to the side. I dive under and float around for a minute, letting the water bleed through my hair to my scalp. Fuck, I’m sweaty.

When I need a breath, I come back up and float on my back to let the sun beat on my skin while the water keeps me cool. This is probably one of the last hot days before fall really sets in. A perfect weekend for camping.

Willits makes his way over and joins me on his back, hooking his arm on mine so we stay close. “I could get used to this,” he says.

I turn my head to look toward shore. My view, though not interrupted, is strange because I’m right on the surface of the water. But I see him. I bet he’d feel good on my dick right now while we float in the water.

“Yep, though I could do without the hike to get here.”

He snorts. “I didn’t hate the hike, but I’d have enjoyed it much more without the fifty pounds on my back.”

I nod. “Also, I’m starving. Is it just me, or do you smell food?”

Willits picks his head up. “Not just you. There’s certainly a fire going.”

We’re left to our own devices in the water for quite some time before Coach calls us in. We’re given food, and maybe I’m super hungry or someone knows their way around a campfire, but it’s fucking good.

I’m amused that no one bothers to dress. We sit around with our bare, wet asses on our packs as we eat. I keep Coach in my peripheral vision as I do, and I’m sure I’m not imagining him constantly glancing in my direction.

Once we’re finished, we’re instructed to set up our tents.

Everyone has tents from outdoorsy shops.

I’m the only one tying a rope between two trees and setting up my military-style bivouac.

I spread out the poncho liner on the ground then unroll the sleeping bag.

Perfectly simple and finished before anyone else.

I sit in front of my tent on the edge of my sleeping bag and watch everyone else struggle with poles and stakes. No one else thought to bring a mallet, so they’re using the soles of their shoes to try to pound them into the ground. Apparently, no one saw me using my mallet.

I’m amused when Marion looks at me with narrowed eyes from close by. “How is that to keep you warm?” he asks, Greek accent more prevalent because he’s frustrated.

“The sleeping bag keeps me warm. This keeps me dry.”

“And the bugs?”

“I haven’t felt any bugs, but I have a bug net that I can drape over if I need to.”

“That’s sick,” Nason says. “You have military parents?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I was looking for simplicity when I went shopping.”

“If we were smarter, we’d have all pitched in for a handful of those enormous ten-person tents,” Denny says as he stares at the tent he’s mostly finished setting up.

“Little late to suggest that now,” Zenia says, shoving him. “But since I broke my poles, I’m sharing yours. So you kinda get your wish. You have a roommate, bestie.”

Denny gives him a demure look, and I laugh.

“Where’s little Ty this weekend?” Zenia asks.

“With Tyler. Where else?” Denny answers. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to bring him on this adventure. He’s not even one.”

“Too bad. You gotta get him on skates.”

Denny nods absently. I don’t know the whole story about what goes on at his house, but the snippets I’ve heard is that his baby mama died just after childbirth, then her brother, Tyler, showed up.

Apparently, she and Tyler were very close, so close that she named the kid after him, something Denny hadn’t realized until Tyler showed up on his doorstep, distraught over his sister’s death and wanting to help with the kid.

All that, I’m relatively sure about. The part I’m less sure about is that I think they’re together now, though Denny is a relatively private person.

While we’re friendly enough teammates, we’re not exactly friends.

What I know is via Felton who says little on the subject because it’s not his life to share, which I totally respect.

My attention is distracted when I catch Coach watching me. His tent is to the side but in clear view of mine. I grin.