On my wing, Hunter rode shotgun. He was hot on my left, ready to throw down or snatch that puck away—a true bodyguard on blades. The plays unfolded seamlessly and Yale’s defense tried their best to steamroll me. Quick thinking led to a pass to Colton behind me on the right, the sound of the puck meeting the stick signaling his next move.
Scouting Yale’s goalie, I spotted a chink in his armor. His left shoulder lagged, lacking the reflexes and reach of the right. The top left corner was screaming for attention and I needed to hit it fast. Signaling Colton, I saw his eyes on the goal, but two defenders were itching to pin him against the boards. The only way out was a pass, and Colton had to make his move.
There was a glance, a brief hesitation, and then Colton unleashed the puck in my direction. I could sense Chisnech closing in, and Colton’s puck-hogging tendencies threatened to throw a wrench in my play. The goalie braced himself on the right, but the left was my ticket to glory. I faked right then flicked left, bracing for the hit that never came.
Cheers erupted.
I looked around. Hunter had leveled Chisnech, giving me a clear shot. Chisnech was fuming, confronting Hunter, who shot back with a cocky grin and a mock surrender. “Clean hit, man. Handle it. My forward just taught you a lesson.”
A chuckle escaped me as we regrouped at center ice. As we skated back, I couldn’t ignore Hunter’s whispered words in my ear. “Told you I’d always have your back, baby.”
Chapter fifteen
Hunter
Tyler was right about the high of a game. Whoops and hollers reverberated off the walls as we walked down the corridor to the lockers, men patting each other on the back and smacking asses.
Aussie held the team together in that game. We won, but only just. That last shot on goal was magic, and it nearly didn’t happen because of Colton.
He wanted that shot. Something he neglected to tell his team: there was a scout in the bleachers today. One who had his eye on Justin Chisneck. He wanted to show up Justin, but only succeeded in making himself look like a fool. I don’t know why that made me feel good—maybe something to do with his digs at Tyler. But I was eager to celebrate, eager to keep that high going. Taunting Tyler had brought that spark back. He pretended to hate it, but I saw that glimmer in his eye. It’s exactly what caused him to be such a menace on the ice. There was nothing hotter than watching him read the plays, and fuck, did he read that play.
I stood shoulder to shoulder with him at his locker, offering a congratulatory grin. “You showed them, baby,” I teased with a playful lilt.
He whipped his head around, eyes wide. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Didn’t he!” Mouse whacked his shoulder, not even batting an eye at the use of the term. We were hockey boys, after all, and our locker room banter often included enthusiastic shouts of phrases a far cry from anything we’d say in the bedroom.
My baby gay, however, was cautious, not wanting to draw attention to us. I observed his shoulders tense briefly but then relaxed as he realized the nature of my comment.
Aussie shrugged. “The team showed them. You guys worked hard on the defense, and I saw a couple of you guys really strike off and close in on those Yale forwards. Your energy was truly something to be proud of.”
I glanced at Colton, not missing the way his jaw ticked. “Everyone worked hard, though that last play could have gone really wrong. Graves, you were supposed to be on my wing. If you had my back, I would have had my shot. That’s what we practiced.”
“That’s what we practiced if they played how we expected them to—which they didn’t. Aussie had the perfect opening. Backing him up was the better option, and it worked. What nearly fucked it up was your hesitation.”
Coach picked that precise moment to walk through the door. “Hunt’s right, if the defense weren’t solely focused on you, we would have missed that goal. Aussie was the one who saw that weakness in the net. I’m proud of how you all played today. I can see huge improvements with your footwork. If we keep this up, we’ll kick some Harvard ass next week. Now, don’t do anything silly tonight. I want you well rested for Monday’s skate time. “
Colton didn’t retaliate. Instead, he smiled and said “Yes, Coach,” corralled everyone into the showers.
As we dressed to leave, I watched as every single teammate patted Aus on the back and said something to the tune of, “You’d better be celebrating tonight.” To which they got a “maybe” or “I’ll think about it,” in response.
I made a point to match his pace as we left. My intention was clear: to catch some alone time with him and—hopefully—convince him to spend just one more night together.
Though the moment we walked out, Cal sidled up to Tyler’s side. “Tyler, you’re coming out with me tonight. My ex is going to be at the party and I need him to see I am not hung up on him cheating on me with Sir Punky Pierced Dick.” Tyler groaned while I somehow managed to forget how to breathe and choked on my own spit.
“I’m sorry; Sir Punky Pierced Dick?” I could barely say it with a straight face.
Cal nodded, not bothered in the slightest about the pierced dick in the room. “Yeah, my ex decided to try a new stick. Though he took the test drive wrong—what a shame. That stick was meant for a power bottom but alas, Nathan’s a greedy top.”
I coughed again, barely covering the laugh that wanted to burst free.
“Can we not talk about the logistics of where sticks should be going?” Tyler grumbled.
Cal smiled, turning to face him. “What’s the fun in that? I like making you squirm. It’s cute making a baby gay all flustered. One of these days I’ll break you right out of that shell.”
Tyler looked around the hall and seeing that it was only us said, “It’ll be like waiting for rain in a drought man: not going to happen. And I am not cute.”
Cal spun around to walk backward, holding his fingers up. “You are a little bit cute, right Hunter?”