Page 69 of Fear of Intimacy

Stealing the puck from my teammate, I skirted around him, my eyes searching for one person. Catching sight of Wyatt, I brought my stick back and snapped it forward, sending the puck straight for him.

With a quick flick of Wyatt’s wrist, the puck shot right into the goal. Grinning under my helmet, I skated over to my best friend, slapping him on the back. Bryton landed a hard smark to my helmet as he skated by.

The sound of the whistle called the end of practice.

“Good job, boys!” Coach yelled from the side of the rink. Three hours later and practice was finally done. Despitebeing exhausted, I felt great. Our first game was Monday, and I was stoked to finally be back on the rink with hundreds of screaming fans.

The image of Tasha sitting in the stands shouting my name came to mind, making my heart stutter for a beat. I’ve never had someone in the stands to cheer me on. Sure I had Wyatt’s mom and brothers but they were hereforWyatt, not me. My parents never came, too strung out to care. Having Tasha there formewould be everything. I just had to ask her and hope she wanted to.

Taking my helmet off, I shook out my hair, sweat sticking to my forehead as I skated slowly around the rink.

“What has you in a good mood?” Bryton asked, coming up to my side.

“Yeah, you’ve been smiling nonstop the last week,” Wyatt interjected.

“No reason,” I lied. I knew the reason. It was because of Tasha.

The last week had felt surreal. Every day, Tasha and I hung out. Whether that was because I dropped by her office for lunch or because we went to each other's place for dinner. And, of course, food always turned into much more but neither of us were complaining. Not in the slightest.

“You’ve been MIA all week.” I could feel their eyes on me as we took another lap around the rink to cool off.

“I was recovering from jet lag. Aren’t you guys?” It wasn’t that much of a falsehood. I'd just been recovering from jet lag with Tasha.

A few nights prior, the two of us decided to keep whatever was going on between us a secret. Just for now. We both knew we couldn’t hide it forever—the paparazzi and our friends were bound to sniff it out. We just wanted to keep it on the low for the time being.

It did suck not telling my boys. Every day at practice that week, I had to bite my tongue from saying something. But until Tasha and I agreed to tell our friends, I wouldn’t say a word. Even if I did want to shout from the rooftops that Tasha Davis was mine.

We had yet to actually classify what we were, but I was pretty sure we both knew it was beyond just a hookup. Tasha was mine in every sense of the word.

“Getting Mila out of bed this week has been a chore.” Bryton laughed, shaking his head at his girlfriend.

“How is finding a house going, by the way?” I asked.

The three of us skated to the side of the rink where our water bottles sat, leaning our sticks against the wall along with our helmets. We were the last on the ice as everyone else headed for the locker room.

“Good, actually. I think we found a house we both like.” Bryton grinned. It was still crazy to think that Bryton was buying a house with his girlfriend. Wyatt was engaged. Felt like yesterday all three of us were single, hitting up the bars on weekends.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Wyatt clapped Bryton on the shoulder.

“Are you and Josie going to move before you get married?” Bryton asked.

“We aren’t sure yet.” Wyatt shrugged, chugging his water. “Her apartment is the last thing her dad gave her. I don’t think she wants to leave it.”

“She can always keep it so when she gets tired of your ass, she has another place to stay,” I joked.

“Ha ha.” He shoved my shoulder as I laughed. “My fiancée loves me, thank you very much.”

“Oh, I know.” I thought back to Monday night and the phone call I interrupted between Tasha and Josie.

“What?”

Realizing I said that out loud, I pushed off the side wall.

“I need a fucking shower,” I told the guys as I skated toward the locker room, leaving the two to follow me off the ice.

“Want to go get drinks tonight?” Bryton asked from behind me.

“Sorry, I can’t tonight,” I told him. I had other plans that were more important.

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