Goal Lines & First Times (CU Hockey 3)

One look at the center of the room where Beck is on Jacobs’s shoulders, with Simms climbing up on Rossi’s, makes me think we’re way later than I’d originally thought. Richie goes to grab drinks while I find Foster and Zach sitting in a booth up the back with Asher. And Asher is … well, he’s sitting uncomfortably close to my brother.

“Hey, guys,” I say cautiously, and Zach’s face floods with relief.

“Seth, thank God. Sit down. All I’ve heard about for the last hour is hockey.”

Asher lets out a loud burp. “Been asking your brother about his rookie season.”

“Flattering would be more like it,” Zach mumbles.

Foster obviously hears him because he pulls Zach close and presses a kiss to his temple.

I turn my attention from them in time to see a dark look cross Asher’s face. “Everything okay?” I ask, eying the multiple empty glasses in front of him.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t it be?”

Well, hello, aggression.

My eyebrows lift a little, because while Asher’s always been a little weird, this isn’t like him. “Want me to get you some water?”

“How about I come with you?” He pumps his eyebrows. “Maybe we’re both a little thirsty.”

Richie chooses that moment to reappear, and without a change in expression, he whacks Asher over the back of his head. “No one at this table’s going to sleep with you, dickhead.”

“Pity. I’ve got a big dick.”

Richie snorts. “I’ve seen you in a locker room, dude. You can’t lie.”

Asher gives him the finger and looks out at the crowd, while I give Richie a what the hell look. He leans down to my ear. “Since that last game, Asher’s been even worse than usual.”

Shit. I don’t want to be, but I’m sort of worried about him.

“Hey.” Richie leans forward and slides Asher’s beer away from him. “You’ve gotta let it go, dude.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“Because it is.”

“It’s not even about the game. Don’t worry about it.” Asher shoves away from the table. “You know what, I’m going to go join whatever dumbass game they’re playing. You guys coming?”

Richie and Foster exchange a look, and I’m sort of uncomfortable about having him go off alone.

“Yep, we’ll come,” Foster says, finishing his beer and sliding out of the booth with Richie.

They all disappear into the crowd.

Zach stares across the room to where Beck is cheering over something. “I’ll never understand jocks.”

“It’s probably better that way.”

We share a quick smile.

“How are you feeling about the move?” he asks.

“Good. I’m actually excited. And we’ll be living in the same apartment building, which is …” I trail off when I notice him gnawing on his bottom lip. “Is that okay? Foster mentioned it to Mom and Dad, and you know what they’re like. Once they were set, there was no arguing, but I mean”—I run my hand back through my hair—“I know you said you wanted the distance or whatever, so if it’s too much—”

“No.” He grabs my arm. “I don’t want to leave you. I’m so relieved you’ll be there with me.”

Happiness sweeps through me. “Really?”

“Of course. It’s keeping me from being all panicky and freaked-out.”

I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that until right now. I pull Zach into a tight side hug and down the rest of my beer. “Come on. Let’s go see what our precious jocks are up to. Gotta make sure no one’s giving anyone a concussion.”

Our precious jocks are playing what looks like a jousting game with pool cues and jugs of beer, and honestly, I don’t want to know. Someone’s going to be injured soon, and that someone better not be Richie. I have plans for him later that require the use of a few key appendages.

As I’m about to drag him away from this shitshow, Rossi stumbles and someone barely catches Asher as he comes crashing down, laughing uncontrollably.

“Jesus, dude. What if you got injured?” Apparently in a room of drunk hockey players, I’m the only one thinking of that.

“Lighten up, cutie.” He grabs both my shoulders and presses a sloppy kiss to my cheek. I’m not sure whether to be relieved he’s no longer being a grumpy idiot or concerned at how quickly he’s done a one-eighty. “We only live once, am I right?” A few people near us agree loudly. “Now excuse me, fellas, I’m going to go do something stupid.”

He’s gone before I can stop him.

“Should we, umm …” Zach points after him.

I sigh. “He’s an adult. I guess there’re some things he has to figure out for himself. Just like the rest of us.” And as much as that need to go after him and fix his problem is itching at me, I stamp it down. Richie’s helping me learn that people are allowed to make mistakes.

Another loud cheer goes up, drawing my attention to Richie climbing onto Foster’s shoulders.