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

I like the third option. But I keep that to myself.

I know they’re right, but the last thing I want is to tell Foster my worries and have him think that means I want him to give up hockey. This isn’t some idiotic hobby. He’s been working toward the NHL his whole life, and a couple of months with me won’t derail the path he’s meant to take.

“Definitely talk to him,” Mom says. “And my psychic is still—”

“Not an option.” I smile to soften my rejection. “But thank you. You’re always trying to help.”

“Well in that case”—she leans over and takes my plate before carrying it to the kitchen—“we can stay up all night, watch sappy movies, and drown your worries in ice cream.” She sighs happily. “My little boy’s first love. Oh, I’m so happy.”

True to her word, she drapes us both in a knitted throw and picks some old sappy movie she says always makes her cry.

Dad disappears, the traitor, which means I’ll be left to deal with the sobbing.

I couldn’t be more uncomfortable.

Yet even with the threat of my mother’s tears hanging over my head, I’m able to relax without Foster being here for the first time in … well, it’s been a while. No Seth, no Foster, only me and Mom and a rapidly depleting stash of candy.

I still feel vaguely sick at the thought of letting Foster go, but I’ve made up my mind to talk to him, and it’s like a weight off my shoulders. Maybe how I feel will be too much for him and he’ll end it tomorrow, but at least then I’ll have Mom to wrap me up in comfort food. I can extend my stay here if I need to.

This isn’t a conversation I want to have over the phone at all, but once I’m back in Vermont, I won’t be able to run away and hide. Then again, can I really imagine not seeing him again if this all ends? Wouldn’t it be better to squeeze in one more moment with him?

Mom sniffs at the stupid movie, and I’m appalled when I do too.

Emotions.

Who needs them?

But when I check my phone later and find a sweet good night text from Foster, I melt a little inside.

I need them.

I need Foster.

And for the first time ever, needing someone doesn’t feel like a weakness.

31

Foster

I’d contemplated bringing a sign to the airport saying, “Property of Zach Sawyer,” but I thought he might get embarrassed. It was tempting to see his face that bright shade of red I love so much.

I’d invited him to New York with me, but he already had his ticket home for the break, so we haven’t seen each other in … too many days to count. I was half hoping for an invite to his hometown but didn’t want to intrude. I get the impression Zach’s family is supportive but not really close. Not like mine.

When Zach’s dark head of messy hair appears in the distance, I hold myself back from doing something lame like running at him in slow motion.

I force my feet to stay where they are, next to the baggage carousel that has his flight number on it.

He’s got his head down, looking at his phone.

Mine buzzes in my pocket.

ZACH: I’ve landed. Seth should be here to pick me up. Can’t wait to see you.

“Hey,” I say when he’s a few feet away.

Zach jumps back. “Foster … What are you … I mean …” He looks down at his usual baggy jeans and his old, thinning shirt. “I thought Seth was coming. I would’ve …” He gestures to his clothes.

“Aww, you woulda gotten dressed up for me?” I go to wrap my arms around him, but he steps back.

“I smell like plane, and it’s gross.”

I hug him anyway. “Don’t care.” I squeeze him tighter. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he mumbles against my shoulder.

“Fuck, I cannot wait to get you back to the house.”

There are still a few days before classes start back up, so he’s staying with us.

And, oh, look at that, I still managed to make my boyfriend blush anyway.

“No sex in your parents’ house.”

I grin. “How long did that last over Thanksgiving before you caved?”

“Thanksgiving rules stand. No sex while they’re home.”

Sleeping naked next to Zach almost killed both of us until he finally broke and instigated a loophole. It seemed every time Mom and Dad left the house, we’d rush to my room, much to Seth’s annoyance.

“I happen to know they’re at work right now, so we have the place to ourselves. Well, Seth’s there, but we can tell him to fuck off.”

He purses his lips. “We’ll see.”

I don’t know what that means, but I try not to read into it.

Zach wraps himself in about three layers of sweaters and jackets before we head for the parking lot.