Page 58 of Save the Game

“Hey!” Everyone looks at me, surprised. I flush slightly, not usually one to raise my voice. “Will the pair of you put your dicks away for a second? Luke and I are together, Carter, and I appreciate you having my back but I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Vasel agrees.

“But he won’t have to. That’s what I’m for,” Carter puts in, popping a bite of burrito in his mouth and watching Luke, who’s face is pinched with anger.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m not fucking around with him, all right? We’re together, and that’s how we’re going to stay. He doesn’t need you to protect him, he’s got me,” Luke says, voice rising.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is going on here,” I say to little effect, putting a hand on Luke’s arm to stop him from leaping across the island and throttling Carter.

“Does anyone want more enchiladas?”

Silently, everyone turns to look at Zeke, who holds up a container of enchiladas. Carter’s lips twitch as he fights a smile; I laugh, suddenly overcome by the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Luke unclenches his jaw, grinning at me sheepishly.

“I would like an enchilada, I think. Thank you,” Vas says politely, and for some reason this makes me laugh harder. Luke, who couldn’t maintain a grudge even if he wanted to, joins in and even Carter looks like he’s struggling not to laugh.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter, shaking my head at him. He winks at me.

“Perhaps everybody needs an enchilada,” Vas continues in an even tone, and proceeds to serve everyone. In an obvious effort to try and get Luke and Carter to stop eyeing each other up for a fight, Zeke pipes up.

“Carter, tell Max and Vas what you were saying about your team, earlier.” He looks up at Carter as he speaks, standing close enough that their arms are brushing. Carter reaches a hand over his shoulder to wrap around his chest and pull him backward and into him, totally unconcerned about displaying affection in a room full of people.

I listen as Carter talks about his AHL team, speaking more words in these five minutes than I’ve ever heard him say in the time I’ve been friends with him. Zeke chimes in every now and then, back still pressed against Carter’s chest as he picks his way through his dinner; he looks ridiculously proud. Vas, too, looks pleased as he listens. It was, I remember, under Vas’ prodding that Carter even entertained the idea of trying to play professional hockey.

“That’s a local team, then?” Luke asks him, and then shrugs when everyone looks at him. “Sorry, I’m familiar with the NHL teams but not so much the minor league ones.”

“Very close,” Zeke answers. “Only a six-hour drive. They are the farmer team for South Carolina’s NHL team.”

“Farm,” Carter corrects quietly, smirking and resting his chin on Zeke’s head.

I glance over at Luke; a six-hour drive doesn’t seem close to me, but I know I’ve got what might be considered an unhealthy codependency on my boyfriend. I’ve gotten so used to having everything I care about within the confines of the SCU campus, that the thought of Luke not being in that radius gives me a physical pain in my chest. Under the edge of the counter, I put my hand on his leg.

“And he comes home every chance he gets,” Zeke continues.

“You like it, then?” I ask, and Carter’s dark blue eyes find mine. I’d been intimidated by his fierce expressions before I’d gotten to know him—unsure about breaching the stony exterior he carefully maintained. Now, though, after spending time with him in and outside of hockey, I can read him a little better. He’ll never be as free with his emotions as Luke, but I don’t need him to be to pick up on how he feels. And right now, I can already guess what the answer is going to be before he gives it.

“Yeah, I do.” He glances down at the top of Zeke’s messy, dark-blonde head before he continues. “I’m glad I was able to stay on the east coast. I didn’t want to go far.”

“Coach Mackenzie will be offering you a job for the summer, I am thinking,” Vas says, arms crossed on the counter in front of him as he leans forward in his seat. “He wants Micky to be Carter Morgan the fourth.”

I bust out laughing, surprised to hear the joke come from Vasel, of all people. He looks pleased; even more so when Carter scowls at us, menacingly. Luke bends his head and shovels food in his mouth, fighting a smile.

“McIntyre isn’t bad. Seems like he might lack in confidence, is all,” Carter says, which is fair.

“Correct,” Vas agrees, “which is why he needs Carter Morgan. You are confident enough for us all.”

“Truth,” I put in, and Luke laughs. “Coach told me that him and Anthony Lawson got a place, so he’ll be moving off campus.”

Vas and Carter look at me, shocked into silence. It’s Carter who breaks first.

“Coach is leaving?”

“Well, no. I mean, yes, he’s leaving campus, but he’s not leaving the program. He just won’t live here anymore.”

“I’ve never heard of faculty living full time on campus,” Luke muses. “Isn’t it usually like the student dorms? Professors can live there for the school year, but that’s it?”

“He might have special circumstances,” Zeke says, running his fingers idly down Carter’s arm. The movement looks so practiced, I wonder if he even knows he’s doing it.

“Mm. Will be strange, yes? Who will we call when we need help with freshmen?” Vas asks, and Carter snorts. Luke raises his eyebrows, questioningly.

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