Power Plays & Straight A's (CU Hockey 1)

“You’re still not allowed to hit on him.”

My gaze darts around the open-plan kitchen and living room and toward the hallway down to Mom and Dad’s bedroom.

“They’re not here,” Seth says. “But that does raise another point—”

Ugh. He’s going to bring up the whole telling them I’m bi thing. Again. My argument that I’m waiting to be in a relationship with a guy for it to even matter to them was vetoed when Seth found out I was seeing a guy last year.

I had to explain to my poor naïve brother there’s a difference between dating someone and fucking someone.

He hasn’t brought it up since.

Until now

“Why does Zach need a friend?” I change subjects, hoping he will drop the conversation about me coming out.

“You mean apart from the obvious?”

“The obvious?” I know what he’s saying, but I’m playing dumb.

Zach is adorably nerdy but ultimately unapproachable. During the handful of conversations I’ve had with the guy over the last three years, he’s either given one-word answers or rambled about some obscure topic.

“If it was up to him, he’d never go out or talk to anyone. He’d spend all his time in his room studying.”

“Oh, the horror! Someone looking out for their future!”

“It’s not healthy. And he knows no one at Colchester.”

“He’s twenty-one. He should be adept at making friends by now.”

“Have you met him?”

It’s not that I don’t like the guy or that it’d be too hard to be friendly with him, but I won’t exactly have time this year to play hero. That’s my brother’s forte. He was the same all throughout school. He’d find the loneliest kid and befriend them. It’s admirable, but fuck, I spent most of my childhood trying to fit in a box that felt too small for me. I’m the selfish brother.

I need to focus on hockey this year, plain and simple. I can’t see myself chasing after some nerd, no matter how cute he is and no matter how many times I’ve jerked off to him over the last three years. Seth wanted me to stay away from him, so I have. He can’t go changing the rules on me now, especially when I can’t be distracted this year.

Nothing can come between me and hockey. End of story.

But then my brother averts his gaze, and I get the feeling there’s more to this.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I ask.

“Nothing.” Seth’s voice is all high pitched.

I lean on the counter, bringing our faces closer. I know when my brother is lying; it’s obvious in the way he refuses to look at me. “Liar.”

“Okay, fine. He … he had a bit of trouble with some guys on campus last year.”

“What kind of trouble?” The growl that comes out of me is completely involuntary.

“Juvenile stuff mostly.”

“How surprising coming from UVM students.”

“Don’t start.”

“So, what, some guys were picking on him? What is this, high school?”

“I figured if you saw anyone hassling him, you could maybe help him out. But I forgot how proud you Colchester jocks are. Forget I said anything. Sorry for trying to look out for my friend.”

Damn it. Now I feel guilty.

He doesn’t even need to ask me. I might not be the type of guy to actively seek out those who need help like my brother does, but if I saw someone harassing Zach, or anyone for that matter, I’m not the type of asshole who would sit back and not do something about it.

I’m a hockey player. One NHL bound. Hopefully. We’re not known for backing down from a fight. We’re usually the first to run toward one.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t use this situation to my advantage.

My gaze goes to my weekly laundry sitting by the front door. “Okay. I’ll look out for your friend.”

“Thank—”

“If … you do my laundry.”

Seth looks horrified. “All your sweaty hockey socks?”

“Take it or leave it.” I stand to my full height and head for the stairs up to my old room.

Seth doesn’t let me even reach the first step. “Fine. Deal.”

I keep walking while I try to hide my face-splitting grin.

2

Zach

Sweet Jesus, why is this school so big?

I check the map on my phone to make sure I’m heading in the correct direction when I notice the dorm now seems farther away than when I started.

Either the girl who gave me directions at dorm registration doesn’t know the difference between left and right, or I took a wrong turn somewhere.

Before I can get frustrated, I turn on the spot and drag my suitcase back in the other direction. It bumps along the tree-lined path. Normally, I’d take advantage of the detour, observe the lay of the land so to speak, but the campus at Colchester University is nothing like the beautiful one I’m used to at UVM. Here, everything is all angles and glass, and the few brick buildings I’ve passed have been painted obnoxious colors.