Page 3 of Defensive Zone

“Yeah?”

He nods, smiling lazily. “Load it up, Reid.”

Leaning over, I grab the TV remote from the nightstand, load up the streaming service, and find the movie. As the intro rolls, I settle back onto the bed. Carter wraps his arm around my shoulders again, threading his fingers through the hair on my crown. Whenever we lie like this, he likes to play with my hair. A few years ago, I decided to grow it to give him more to play with, as he says it’s calming for him.

And I’m not going to lie, it’s calming for me, too.

Placing an arm over his stomach, I snort as he begins to recite the words on the screen in a cinematic voice. A sense of peace settles between us as we watch the movie that’s been our routine for ten years, occasionally echoing the words as they’re spoken on screen. I’m pretty sure we could recite the entire script off the top of our heads.

We’re almost two hours into the movie when Carter sits up with a groan. I roll off him and onto my back, watching as he removes his phone from his jeans pocket, tapping the screen to light it up and check the time.

“Okay, we have ten minutes until we can time it right. Let me go get some snacks, then we can bring in the new year with a bang.” He grins.

I laugh, pausing the movie as he climbs over me.

“Hurry up! The Death Star has gotta explode at midnight to count!” I call out, listening to the thunder of his feet as he runs down the stairs.

I keep an eye on the time on my phone, watching as minute after minute goes by and there’s no sign of him coming back.

When there’s four minutes left of our timer, I get up and head downstairs. Maybe he got caught up or there’s a problem. These parties never usually go without some form of altercation. Butas soon as I get to the bottom of the stairs, my stomach drops. With the bag of our favorite potato chips tucked under one arm and the other placed on the wall by her head, he’s chatting with Paisley, his face bright with whatever topic he’s talking about. She tips her head back and laughs, and then her dainty hand is back on his chest, and his dark, hooded eyes sparkle at the move as his head gets closer to hers, and his tongue swipes over his lips. A rush of heat floods through my body, but it’s not from desire.

No, it’s from jealousy—and embarrassment.

I was ten years old when I fell in love with Carter Lockwood. I didn’t know what it was at first—the feeling of euphoria that would take over me whenever he was around. It was only when I got older that I realized it was love, but I kept my feelings to myself in fear of losing him. Carter would talk about girls in a way that let me know he didn’t feel the same way about me, and I told myself that was okay because he was still my best friend.

Tonight, our New Year’s Eve ritual came to an end. I’ve kept my feelings squashed down for the last decade, but I guess it’s time to squash them down for good.

As the only thing exploding tonight is my heart shattering into pieces as the clock strikes midnight.

Chapter One

June – present day

Carter

Sometimes, I wish I had a special power. Be a superhero or a Jedi. I could use the Force to do something good. Like making the offensive players always fumble with the ball, allowing us the easy attack, or in this instance, keeping the puck away from the back of the Thunder’s net.

I would wave my hand like Obi-Wan Kenobi and say,This is not the net you’re looking for.

But I don’t have any kind of superpower, and the Force isn’t with me.

My heart is in my throat as I watch my best friend on the ice, his shoulders slumped in defeat. The Chicago Thunder were so close to making the Stanley Cup Finals.

Sodamn close.

But Los Angeles got one up on them with a sneaky goal, making it a 4-3 win in double overtime of game seven. Shit. Evenjust thinking about it rips my heart in two, and I’m not the one on the ice.

Zach lines up to shake the opposing players’ hands. I know he will be congratulating them and wishing them all the best in the finals, because he’s a good guy like that, but me? I’m feeling bitter, and I’m kinda hoping LA will choke in the finals. I know it’s bad sportsmanship to wish bad luck on a team, but still. I really wanted to see Zach and the rest of the Thunder make it to the finals.

After missing out on the Super Bowl in February, I was hoping that I could get a different kind of win this year, even if it was in the form of my best friend’s team.

The crowd claps loudly in support as the Thunder players do a final lap of the ice, holding their sticks in the air in salute, before disappearing down the tunnel, and I take that as my cue to leave.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” I say to Alex. He’s dating the Thunder’s star forward, Blaine Olsen. I’ve been sitting with him and his friend Nate at every game since I arrived in Chicago a few months ago.

His blue eyes are glassy with unshed tears as he turns to me. Alex is a big hockey fan, having followed the team since when he was a kid. He met Blaine at a game back in November when Blaine spilled his beer all over him during warm-ups, and I know his emotions are high right now, not just for his boyfriend but because he’s a fan too.

“I don’t know why this one is hitting harder. They’ve lost before.” His voice trembles.

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