Page 7

Shane

O ne thing I can’t stand is bullying. Especially in college. We’re all adults yet some people still feel the need to hurt others so they can feel good about themselves. It’s pathetic.

Dean Fisher used to be the middle linebacker for the football team. But he couldn’t keep up with his grades and was kicked off the team in the middle of the season last year. And he’s been a huge dick since.

I didn’t see what happened, but I heard the commotion and then his mouth. Matt is with me, and when we get to Dean, we stand on either side of him.

“Emo boy here was trying to skip the long ass line. I’ve been standing here for ten fucking minutes! So, I made sure he knew he belonged in the back. It’s not my fault he tripped over his own feet. Fucking loser.”

He spits at the guy curled in a ball on the floor.

“What the fuck is your problem man? How do you know he was trying to get to the front of the line and not to grab a snack or something from the front?” Matt asks.

“Who cares! I was here first. He belongs in the back of the line.”

“I think you need to leave, Dean,” I say to him while looking at the guy on the floor. He’s not moving except for a slight tremble in his shoulders.

“The fuck did you say to me, hockey boy?” He puffs out his chest like he’s trying to intimidate me. He may have more muscle than me, but I’m taller.

Stepping up, I look down my nose at him, about to put this asshole in his place, when Matt nudges my arm and tilts his head towards Julie, the manager. Backing up, I smile at Julie as she walks over.

“What’s the problem boys?”

Turning to Dean, I cross my arms over my chest and wait for him to tell Julie he’s causing problems.

Of course he doesn’t say anything, just glares at me. Rolling my eyes, I turn to Julie but stop when I notice the guy on the floor is shaking harder.

“Hey, are you ok?” I ask as I walk towards him.

He curls his legs more and tightens his arms that are covering his head and wrapped around his middle. As I crouch down, I gently place my hand on his arm.

“No, no, no. Please. I-I’m sorry.” His words are a low whisper.

Looking back at Matt, he’s following Julie who’s escorting Dean out of the shop. Good. Matt may be a goofball, but he knows when to be serious and use his size to get assholes like Dean to do what he says.

“He’s gone,” I say, looking back down at the guy on the floor. He doesn’t move.

“Here, let me help you up off of the floor.”

I reach for his shoulder to encourage him to uncoil but the moment my hand meets his shirt, he lets out a whimper.

“It’s ok, I won’t hurt you. Dean is gone and won’t be coming back. I’m pretty sure Julie just banned him,” I say with a soft chuckle.

He slightly lowers his elbow and looks around. When his eyes land on me, I suck in a breath. Fearful golden-brown eyes look up at me.

Fuck. It’s Charlie.

His eyes are wet and he looks scared out of his mind. I slowly reach out and move his hair from his eyes.

“Hey, beautiful,” I smile softly at him. “You’re alright now.”

It takes him a second like he’s processing my words, then he slowly starts to sit up. But he only gets halfway when he falls back to the floor, grabbing his ribs.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong? Did that son of a bitch kick you?” I’m seething. What the actual fuck is wrong with Dean. Who kicks someone when they’re down? Literally.

He shakes his head, taking shallow breaths. “I tripped over my own feet and hit the corner of the table. It’s my fault. I lost my footing. I-I’m fine.”

His fault? How the hell is being bullied his fault?

He slowly rolls to the side and uses his elbow to sit up. He winces as he reaches for the table and tries to pull himself up. I quickly get to my feet and help.

I smile at him, but it falls when I notice blood dripping down his cheek. “You’re bleeding.” I grab some napkins from the table beside us and go to gently wipe his cheekbone, but he flinches back.

“I’m fine.” He uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the blood away.

He looks up at me with sad eyes but quickly averts his gaze. He must notice all the eyes that are on us because he lowers his head, letting his hair block half his face.

“I should go. Th-thank you,” he says while looking at the ground.

“Let me buy you your drink. A warm cup of tea helps me relax after I’ve had a rough day. Or coffee, if that’s what you drink. There are only a few people in line now, so it’ll only take a second.”

I tilt my head, trying to catch his eyes. He seems to be thinking about it but he shakes his head.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Ok. What about tea? They have like twenty different flavors.”

He slowly lifts his head, giving me the slightest glimpse of those golden orbs. “I don’t really like tea either.” He says softly with his shoulders up to his ears.

Smirking, I shake my head. “What college student doesn’t drink coffee or tea? Caffeine is life. I wouldn’t survive my morning classes without it.”

Still holding his ribs, he walks to the cooler that has energy drinks in it. He slides the door open and reaches in to grab one. Turning around, he holds up a can of Red Bull.

He turns back and walks over to the cashier.

“Those aren’t good for you, you know,” I say as I walk up next to him and hand Katie a five-dollar bill. She smiles at me and takes the bill, running her fingers over mine.

“Hi, Shane,” she says, bending over so her cleavage is practically spilling from her top. “Am I going to see you at the party Friday? I’d love to show you my new tattoo. It’s right here.” She flips her platinum blonde ponytail over her shoulder and points to the spot between her boobs. We’ve fucked a few times. She’s a fun time, but she seems to have forgotten about her boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there with the guys. How’s Brad doing?”

At the mention of her boyfriend, she stops trying to flirt with me and shoves my change at me.

Smiling, I put it in the tip jar. “See you around, Katie.”

I turn to where Charlie was standing, but he’s not there.

Where the hell did he go?

I scan the tables while walking to the door but don’t see him. As I step outside, I don’t see him anywhere.

Why did he leave? I wanted to make sure his ribs were ok. To make sure he was ok.

Walking past the edge of the coffee shop, I scrunch my nose at the unmistakable stench of weed. Looking down the side of the building, I don’t see anyone, only a green dumpster. Then I hear the crack of a can being opened.

As a puff of smoke is let out, I turn to find Charlie crouched against the wall, a few feet from the garbage. He takes a big gulp of his energy drink as he looks at me.

“Thanks.” He holds up the can. “I’m fine, though. You didn’t have to follow me.” He takes another drag of his joint and holds it in his lungs until I’m sure he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen. He finally slowly releases it, rubbing at his ribs.

“Can I see?” I tilt my head towards him.

He doesn’t say anything as he continues smoking, looking up at me. When the joint is done, he rubs the end on the brick building then turns and flicks it into the dumpster. Little by little he stands up until he’s slightly hunched forward.

“Why do you care if I’m hurt?”

“I’ve had cracked ribs before. They’re a bitch to deal with and I know a few tricks to help the healing process.” Though I doubt they’re broken by the way he held that smoke in his lungs for so long. He’d be in a lot of pain right now. But if he’s willing to show me, I’ll be able to touch him without him flinching this time.

“Will you leave me alone if I let you look at them?” he asks with an attitude I wasn’t expecting.

“Of course.”

He holds the can in his right hand and pulls his shirt up with his left. It’s like he’s doing it in slow motion. Every second that passes, I’m given an inch of his milky white skin. He has a black trail of fine hairs below his belly button that disappears under his black boxers. He’s thin, with a flat stomach and visible ribs sticking out.

My mouth goes dry when his light pink nipple appears. This close I can smell his sweat mixed with whatever laundry detergent he uses. It’s a combination that has my eyes closing as I take it in. He’s about five inches shorter than me, making him the perfect height for forehead kisses.

His breath hitches when my knuckles touch his stomach. It’s silky smooth. I slowly move them up, skimming my fingers over the bumps of his ribs. When I get to where a bruise is forming, I stop.

I gently add a bit of pressure, feeling for any breaks. He sucks air in through his teeth when I hit a sore spot but doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t think you broke any. Does it hurt to take in a deep breath or when you tossed your joint?” I ask, still touching his delicate skin.

He shakes his head and steps back, lowering his shirt.

“It’s not raised or anything, but you have a bruise. Lots of ice will help and take Tylenol for pain.”

He nods while chugging the rest of his energy drink.

I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. Why is that making me hard? I’ve never found a man’s throat as sexy, but there’s something about Charlie’s that has me wanting to lick it.

“Bye.”

He turns and walks off while I stand there watching him go. He looks back at me for a second before turning the corner and walking out of sight.

Walking into the locker room, I get ready to warm up for our last preseason game. The season starts next week and I’m more than excited for a repeat. Winning the Frozen Four was one of my greatest accomplishments. Coach Q told me the NHL scouts were very impressed and were looking forward to watching me play this year. I’ve been working my ass off since I was eight. I’m so close to having my dream come true, I can almost taste it.

I find Asher riding a bike in the warmup room. I take the one next to him and start warming up my legs.

“You ready for this? I have a feeling Boston isn’t going to treat this as a preseason game. Nothing like playing the team that beat you in the finals.”

He turns his head to me and removes an earbud I didn’t see, lifting his brows.

Shaking my head, I tell him never mind, and start replaying our last game. I almost had a hat trick, but still had a great game with two goals and three assists. This is going to be another great year. I can feel it.

Coach Q calls us all back to the locker room to get ready to head out for on-ice warmups.

“These guys are out for blood. We won last season which leaves a bitter taste in their mouths. They’re looking for payback so keep your heads on a swivel and play smart. No dumb penalties. I’m looking at you, Kane.”

Everyone laughs as Matt stands up, shrugging. “What? Me? Never.”

“Damn, nitwit.” Coach Q grumbles. “Let’s go boys!”

We shuffle out of the locker room and down the tunnel. The energy buzzes through me as I get closer to the ice. The crowd goes crazy as we shoot out of the tunnel.

I love this part.

Skating around, I spot a few of my classmates up against the glass, cheering like crazy. I look around while I do a few laps on our side of the rink. I know the chances of seeing a certain golden-eyed boy sitting in the stands are slim, but I still look. Alexander skates by, giving me a weird look.

“What’s that look for?” I ask as we get down to stretch.

“Who’re you looking for up there? You got a girl waiting for you after the game?” He pumps his eyebrows.

I’ve been playing with Benji since freshman year when we both made the varsity team.He’s a decent hockey player, but he’s very self-centered. He always has his nose in everyone’s business and then feels the need to tell you what he thinks about it. Whether you asked or not. He also loves to talk about how well he did in the game, how he scored that one goal, or how he won the game. He loves getting his ego stroked.

“No, just looking at all these people here supporting us,” I say as we get up and start drills.

“You’ve gotta get yourself one of those hot as fuck puck bunnies. They all have huge tits and juicy round asses. Always a fun time in bed with one or two of them.” He laughs as he skates to the other line.

He can have all the puck bunnies because I have a cute, shy boy I need to find and make mine.

I’ve been open about being bi since high school and Coach Q made it clear on day one that if he hears any homophobic slurs, joking or not, they will be removed from the team.I’m not sure if that made Benji uncomfortable or what but the next day he made sure his locker wasn’t close to mine. I’ve also caught him glaring at me when everyone was changing. He hasn’t said anything, but I try to keep my distance from him when I can.

The horn goes off, signaling the end of warmups. We head back down the tunnel to the locker room for one more pep talk from Coach Q, last-minute gear checks, and to piss before game time.

Matt keeps his head in check and only ends up with two penalties. We play like it’s the championship game all over again. And we beat them, again, with a score of five to two.