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

“Zach … do you like him?”

I’m not expecting the question. “What?”

“Do you want more?”

“I’m not deluded. I’m not some naïve swoony virgin who falls in love with the first person I have sex with.”

“Again, don’t need to talk about that. But even before … you two were hanging out, so I wondered if there was more going on.”

“Of course not.” I curse internally as my voice shifts to a higher register.

“So you’re coming to his first game then? This weekend?” Seth’s casual tone tells me this is a test, but I’m not sure what the correct answer is. Yes, to prove I can watch him and behave amicably, or no, to prove I don’t need to because I have no further interest in him?

Why is this so hard?

“Why are you going?” I ask. “He’s not even playing because of the whole suspension thing.”

“To support him? To sit with him and help cheer his team on? You should come with us.”

“I … don’t think so. No. I have too much to do.”

“Clearly. Because researching until you forget what day it is, is obviously part of your coursework.”

“Seth … I really am busy.”

“Next week’s game then. If you’re not there, I’ll have to sit with my parents.”

I laugh. “You were fine sitting with them all the other years I never went to hockey games.”

“That was before you had sex with my brother.”

“I have to go.” I huff, slamming my laptop closed and Seth wraps up the call. My dorm is too quiet, and I’m not hungry anymore.

I curse because all I’d wanted was to distract myself from thinking about Foster.

I’m not going to show up at his games like a stray puppy hoping for a scrap of his attention. I don’t want him to feel like he owes me anything. If we catch up again, it will be a mutual, friendly arrangement. But in all the years I’ve known him, Foster has been single mindedly focused on hockey, and even if by some strange reason he wanted more with me, he’d never risk what he’s worked toward for so long.

I’d never want him to.

We’d agreed to sex, not a relationship, and I’m perfectly happy with that decision.

Perfectly happy.

So happy, I reopen my laptop and get back to work.

23

Foster

Coach is punishing me. As if my one-game suspension isn’t mean enough, I swear it’s become his mission to run me so ragged, all I’m able to do after practice is go home and pass out.

I haven’t had time to think, let alone see Zach again, but I make sure to check in with him so he knows I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth. Even the breakfast dates I’d been squeezing in with him have been replaced by mandatory gym time, and while I don’t miss the disgusting cafeteria food, I do miss seeing Zach. More than I thought was possible.

After the team scored a hard-fought win in game one, which was painful to watch from the sidelines, we need to kick some serious ass in game two.

My first game of the season is finally here, and I’m determined to put the UVM game behind me and show them I’m a team player who is worthy of being captain. If I do, Coach might finally back off a bit.

I score a goal in the first four minutes of the game against New Hampshire, and from there it only gets better.

Being the first team to score always feels like an advantage. And normally, I wouldn’t care who it was who put the biscuit in the basket, but because it was me, I’m off to a good start toward proving myself.

On the ice, the only important things in my life are my team and getting the W.

That doesn’t mean when I’m off the ice I can’t glance around at the stands looking for a certain dark-haired, green-eyed nerd whose sex noises are ingrained in my mind.

But I don’t get long to search the stands before Coach calls for a line change, and I’m back in the game.

I’ve never had to compartmentalize hockey and someone I’m dating before. It’s always been easy to switch between my personal life and hockey life.

No one has filled my thoughts the way Zach does.

His message responses were short when they came at all. If I was the type of guy to read into things, I’d suspect he’s avoiding me, but I assume he’s been busy and lost track of time like Seth says he often does. I’d kicked myself when I accidentally slept through last week’s sports psych class because I was that exhausted. And when I haven’t been exhausted or at practice, I’ve been studying to catch up on other classes I’ve skipped.

Zach said he’d be at the game tonight with Seth, but I haven’t spotted them yet.

Right. Head in the game. Not on Zach.