Page 23 of First Puck

His face morphed from frustration into the sunny smile that blinded most people and fooled everyone. It wasn’t a good sign. As an acting major, I could never quite tell if he was being honest with me, and I rarely trusted him when he smiled like that.

“Fine,” he huffed. “I’ll leave it alone.” He paused, and I made the fatal error of believing for a microsecond that he’d let it go.

But Lance was always on point.

“I’ll let it go if… Okay?” He dipped his chin like he was looking over imaginary glasses. “If…You let me tell you about Brad 9.0.”

I sighed as I met his shining smile. If I just had to listen to Lance unload his megamind for half an hour, then it would be worth it to get him off my back. Then I could just focus on gettingthrough the next four weeks by completely suppressing myself until I had my monthly cathartic meltdown.

“Alright, but you absolutely promise you’ll leave it alone if I reject Brad 9.0?” I used to avoid his project names but, by the time we got to Brad 5.0, I’d kind of come to like them.

“Of course!” Lance grinned at me again, dropping his palm to sweep his fingers down my arm and ring my wrist. “I promise you’re gonna love it.”

Suddenly, Lance’s full presence surrounded me as he pressed himself even closer.

“So, Alex.” His tone deepened to a purr as one knee slipped between mine as his chest knocked against me. His lips fully brushed my ear as a smirk colored his voice. “How do you feel about making that best friend of yoursinsanelyjealous?”

Brad

“Alex, get fucking moving!” Tommy, the freshman vice captain and top dickhead, shouted as we soared down the ice.

Alex had the puck, and we skated in line as I spun around a forward to get us thirty feet closer.

It would be the perfect shot. We just needed to get past two more fuckers, and we were in.

Shouts bounced around the high ceiling of the Redhill Kites rink, music drowning out any thoughts as the crowd slapped the barrier and cheered us on.

Scouts were here, the stands were full, and this was our fucking chance.

There was nothing there but the puck, Alex, and the scrape of the ice.

We glided like fucking swans, and in seconds, we were there.

Four minutes left of the match, and we were tied. This was the second of three games we needed to win to get us to the finals. The Delmer Knights shit on us the last time they beat us, and our pride was on the line.

Alex angled his stick, the puck flying across the ice, just dodging a defenseman as I took the lead.

Twenty-five feet, fifteen feet. I lined it up, everything vanishing except for the puck and the absolute tank filling the net. Eyes on the top left corner, I barely heard Alex’s yell and the slam behind me.

Alex and I had been practicing the maneuver since we were five, and nothing could stop me as I lowered my elbow, skidding that last few feet to get close enough to shunt the puck.

People were screaming before it even got past the goalie’s helmet.

As soon as I hit it, I knew it was a goal. Because I was just that fucking good.

The second it hit the back of the net, the music exploded in the stadium, and I spun on the tip of my skates straight around to grin at Alex, already soaring toward him.

There was no fucking way he wasn’t getting a hug this time.

Our teamwork was always the fucking best, and we were sticking together. The Wranglers scout would have clocked that move, seen how good we were together. And no matter whichscout gave us offers at the end of the year, we were a package deal.

My excitement stuttered as I scanned the rink, searching for Alex amongst our white and red uniforms as the guys swarmed me with cheers.

My brow furrowed, that same tension building in my chest that came whenever I was away from him.

We were meant to be independent and whatever, like Alex said he wanted, but it wasn’t right if I didn’t know where he was.

My heart flew to my throat as he crumpled on the ice next to the barrier, an asshole Knight sailing off after knocking him down.

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