Page 33

33

Caleb

O ur home rink’s cheers are deafening as the timer buzzes loudly.

We won. Again.

If we win our next game, then our rank will send us straight to the quarterfinals.

Fuck, I think we’re going to take it all the way to the championships this year. Nobody wants to jinx it, so nobody actually says it out loud—that we’ve got a good chance this year—but the energy in the locker room is palpable.

Nick’s smiling wide as he chugs down water, his throat bobbing, and I want to put my tongue all over his skin—can’t do that in the middle of all these assholes, though, so I simply flash him a grin.

My golden boy scored the winning goal today, and I was so happy I tackled him. Might have kissed him too, if the other guys didn’t pile over us.

While the guys are celebrating, I peek at my phone and see that I have a message from McAvoy. Buffalo’s development coach had been watching today and I’m really glad we won despite my nerves, and I can feel Nick’s eyes on me as I read McAvoy’s text.

Coach McAvoy: Good game. Got some pointers for you but I think it’d be easier if we worked on it on the ice. Let me know if you’re free tomorrow and we can meet up at the home rink.

Fuck. My veins buzz with excitement.

Someone knocks their shoulder against mine. It’s Nick. He smiles softly at me and asks, “What’s up?”

I angle my screen towards him. He reads the message and immediately, his face lights up in that way each time I give him news about my upcoming NHL career. Nick lifts his hand as if he’s going to hug me then stops himself at the last minute. Fuck that, really. I lean against him, and it forces him to wrap his hand around my waist, even if tentatively.

Who cares? Everyone else around is celebrating, and even if anyone saw us all cuddly, anyone who has an issue with it can suck my dick.

Well, not literally. Only Nick can do that.

“That’s cool,” Nick says, voice low.

“Come with me.”

“To your training with McAvoy?”

“Yes. I want you to see what their home rink’s like without the crowd.”

Nick laughs and he lets go of my waist, trailing it up my side and squeezing my neck. “Sounds exciting.”

I leave him to go talk to my uncle, who’s standing by the door and watching the team. He eyes me suspiciously, no doubt questioning how close Nick and I’ve become. I don’t see why he’d have any complaints, though. Didn’t he go and ask Nick to babysit me when I joined the team?

He listens as I update him about my upcoming training with McAvoy, though he seems much more interested in Nick and I.

“You and Sandoval are getting along great, I see,” he says, eyebrows lifted.

I scoff. Getting along would be an understatement. I’m not sure if Nick’s all right with me telling my uncle we’re seeing each other, though, even if any person with a working brain could probably figure it out.

On that note, I wonder if Nick’s thought about telling his parents. I should probably ask.

Afterwards, when we’re leaving the rink, I’m still contemplating how to broach the subject. Even if the game ended a while ago, there are still people dawdling around, some of them cheering at us and congratulating us on our win. It feels kind of weird, honestly—and Nick keeps getting pulled aside by people I don’t know.

Some people call out to me too, and I nod at them and force a smile. I’m learning from Nick, I guess.

We finally get some silence once we’re seated in his car, and I’m relieved that Rhys is carpooling with Schultz, giving us some alone time.

“I think my uncle knows we’re… seeing each other,” I tell him. Even if it’s the truth, it’s still odd to actually say it. I haven’t had a boyfriend in what seems like an eternity. “That’s okay, right?”

“Yes. I told you I don’t mind if anyone found out.”

I don’t even try to hold back the smug grin that spreads across my face. “I think he’s surprised, though. I wasn’t exactly holding back when I told him you were a fake-ass golden boy who lacks a personality.”

“I haven’t even heard that one before!” He groans. “Caleb, why would you tell my coach that?”

“To be fair, I was talking to my uncle, not our coach.”

“Fine,” he grumbles.

Here goes nothing. “Also, and no pressure, but are you going to tell your parents about us?”

He goes quiet, and my heart sinks.

“I could tell them,” he says after too long a pause.

“Wow, sound more unsure about it, I beg you.”

The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s trying not to smile. “They don’t even know I’m into guys. I was only thinking of what they’d say… but I doubt it’d be an issue.”

“I don’t know, Nicky. You’re the sole heir to a vast conglomerate. Maybe they’re old-fashioned and want you to settle down with a cute chick so that your royal highness can give them grandchildren.”

“Stop making fun of me. Besides, why would grandchildren ever be an issue? We could always get a surrogate or adopt.”

I wheeze, alarmed, and Nick doesn’t even seem to realize the gravity of what he’s said as he checks his side mirror.

“Damn,” I say. “You’re already thinking about kids? We’ve never even gone out on a date.”

He huffs a laugh. “Sure, we have.”

“Literally when?”

“When we went to my favorite food truck, every time we play Mario Party—”

“I can’t tell if you’re messing with me.” We did all those even before we figured out we were into each other. I doubt he really thinks those were dates.

“We spent New Year’s together.”

He’s winning this argument, and I can’t have that. “I meant, like… a romantic sit-down dinner or something,” I joke.

“We can do that. Tomorrow. Wear something nice.”

I scoff. “Fuck off.”

“I’m serious. There’s a nice restaurant downtown called The Cedar Room. My dad's obsessed with it. We can go there when you’re done with McAvoy.”

“Sounds expensive.”

“My treat. Bring something nice to change into after your training, okay?”

Nick sounds so eager that I stare at him for a good second, and realize that he’s very, very serious. He really wants to go on a date with me, dressed in nice clothes, to a fancy restaurant. My face heats—nobody’s ever wanted to take me out like this. God, it makes me feel… special. The fuck is wrong with me?

“Please?” Nick asks.

“Fine,” I snap, even though at that moment, I realize that I really, really want to.

***

“Faster, Jennings!” McAvoy yells, and I curse under my breath and pick up my speed.

The rink’s empty except for us, though the team’s regular practice ended just before our session and some of the players are watching us from the stands. Great. As if I wasn’t feeling enough pressure already.

Nick’s also in the stands, smiling at me the whole time. That he’s wearing a button-down and dress pants for our date only distracts me.

According to McAvoy, while my accuracy and speed are good, and I’m a menace when on the offense, my weakness is in the defensive zone. He’s been killing me with drills, unsatisfied that I haven’t been able to correct it on my own.

Despite his feedback, though, we end our one-on-one training with him giving me a huge grin.

“We’ll work on that more,” he tells me. “I’ll send you an updated plan. By the way, is that Nicholas Sandoval over there?”

“Yeah, I dragged him with me.”

McAvoy glances at Nick with a meaningful look. “Looks like the team’s getting to know him.”

He’s right. I’m not all that surprised to see that the handful of guys who stayed behind are now talking to Nick and shaking his hand. My boyfriend laughs and chats with them, though I can tell that he’s not sure how to act.

Time to rescue him, I guess. I follow McAvoy off the ice and listen in on them.

“Hey, Jennings!” calls out Cruz, one of the forwards who I’ve met before. “Sandoval here says you brought him along to watch. Are you trying to convince Camrose’s star to join us?”

“He didn’t even join the draft!” says someone else—Langdon, their goalie.

“Shit, why not?” Cruz turns back to Nick. “You planning to be a free agent, then?”

Nick huffs an awkward laugh and shakes his head, and suddenly questions are being thrown at him from my future team. Nick’s cheeks redden and he tucks his chin to his chest as he shifts awkwardly.

“Hey! Wait up! I’m the star forward from Camrose,” I declare, which earns me some laughs—at least they stop bombarding Nick with questions, though.

“Good stuff out there, by the way,” Langdon tells me, to which Cruz nods along to, right before they go on their way.

“I’ll e-mail you soon,” McAvoy tells me. “Nice seeing you as well, Sandoval.”

Nick blushes. “Nice seeing you.”

Once the team and McAvoy’s gone, leaving me and Nick alone, Nick turns to me with wide eyes.

“They actually know me,” he squeaks.

I huff out a laugh. “Of course they know you. You don’t know how big a deal you are, do you?”

“I’m not a big deal.”

“Baby, you could get into any team you wanted to.”

He shakes his head and turns away, and because I don’t want to ruin our upcoming date, I let it go.

“I’m going to go shower,” I tell him, turning away. “Do you want to wait for me here or outside?”

When I don’t get an answer, I glance back at Nick.

With his hands deep in his pocket, he focuses on the rink, his eyes narrowed as if he’s in a trance.

“Nicky,” I call.

He snaps out of it and turns to me. “Sorry. I’ll wait for you here.”

I want to ask him if he’s all right, but then his lips spread into a warm smile and he beams, and my heart leaps.

Goddamn, why does my heart keep doing that? I should get that checked.