Page 1 of Icing the Play

CHAPTER ONE

MYLES

The only good thing about August in the Arizona desert was the crazy monsoons that rolled in, doused the place with rain and cooled things off. After a grueling pre-season practice, I walked into the squad house, or what remained of it, and set my duffel by the kitchen island. My gaze wound past our wooden dinette and through the sliding glass doors next to it into the backyard of landscaping rocks and arid plants. The sun was hot as fuck out there.

I headed for the black refrigerator, tucked between our white shaker cabinets, and opened it, scanning for my favorite drink. It was nice coming back to the same place we’d had last year and knowing what to expect. Okay, and having Ace and Zoma around. I plucked a protein shake off the shelf and twisted it open as I shut the door. Approaching the sliding doors, I drank the shake and checked the sky for rain clouds. Nope, not today.

My reflection gazed back at me, my blond hair still damp from the post-game shower, the messy wave of my bangs falling to the sides of my brown eyes, the ones Tyler, my best buddy from Chicago, always said were doe eyed. I smirked. Sometimes, he was a fucker. But now he played for the Blackhawks with Rowan, his boyfriend, and I was…here.

“Hey, Myles, you’re home. Have a good practice?” Zoma strolled out of the hallway from the bedrooms with his laptop tucked under an arm, dropped into the corner of our well-worn green sectional, and set his laptop on the coffee table.

“Yeah, it was good. A little weird with no one from the squad left on the team but me, eh.” I headed toward him and sank in next to him. “The new guys are great.” All my buddies had gotten contracts but me. Would this be my year? Only time would tell, and I wasn’t holding my breath.

Propping his elbow on the back of the couch, he shifted his slender body to face me. “Are there any other queer players you know of?” His blue eyes focused on me and gel mussed the top of his wavy brown hair.

I shook my head once. “Nope, not that I know of. I’m sure they’ve been told my status by the other guys.” I shrugged. “Nobody seems to care. It’s the same old same old.”

“Good.” He sighed. “There’s another gay man on the figure skating team this year. He’s cute as a button.” The edge of his mouth quirked. “Don’t tell Ace I said that.”

With a chuckle, I said, “Of course not.” I looked him over, his black shirt and grey board shorts. His grooming was impeccable—a stark contrast to Ace, his boyfriend and ex-goalie. Ace was most at home in athletic gear, same as me. I did like to mix it up when we hit the gay bar, though. Because there, I could put all the pressure behind me.

“So, when do you start your first class?” He narrowed his eyes. “And what about the gay football player you met last year?”

“My first class is tomorrow.” I studied him. I’d heard almost nothing from JJ all summer. “His name is Jordan, but he goes by JJ. He’s a wide receiver from Scottsdale. I guess Kurt Warner was a coach at his high school at one time, so they had a great program.”

“Oh, damn. Kurt Warner?” His eyes grew wide.

“Yep.” I chuckled and shook my head, memories of hangingout with JJ last year playing through my mind. “He’s kind of a partier, but a good guy. I haven’t heard much from him. He’s probably busy with football practice right now.”

“It’s got to be hot as fuck on that field. I don’t know how those guys do it.” Zoma sucked in a breath.

“I know, right? At least we get a nice cold rink.” With a smile, I sipped my protein drink.

“Hell yeah.” Zoma lifted his fist to me. “Here’s to sports on skates.”

“Right on.” I fist bumped him. Yeah, JJ was fun to hang out with, but there hadn’t been a connection. He mentioned there were some queer guys on the football team, though. Maybe I’d find some new jocks to hang out with?

Later on,I sat at the dinette, my laptop open, and looked over the syllabus for my social media class I started tomorrow. It was a fun elective for my biomedical engineering degree and sounded like it would be easy. I mean, what guy my age didn’t know about social media already?

Ace and Zoma puttered in the kitchen, making Ace’s signature spaghetti. “How was practice, Myles?” Ace lifted his head from the sink, his brown eyes focused on me under his dark, messy hair. He had some good scruff growing along his jawline.

“Good. Same old shit.” I wouldn’t mention that not having him on the team was going to suck this year.

“Who’s the new goalie? Did they pick Sutton?” He eyed me.

“Yeah.” I lifted my brows. No matter who they picked, he’d think the coaches made a terrible choice.

Ace scoffed. “That fucker’s a sieve. I hope the D-men know their shit or you guys won’t make the Frozen Four this year.” With a shake of his head, he stirred the sauce in a pan on the stovetop.

“Don’t say that, Ace. The team will be great this year. Even if you’re not there.” Zoma slapped Ace’s shoulder.

Ace grabbed Zoma’s hand and kissed the back of it. “We gotta make sure Myles gets a contract and for that, it helps if he’s playing with a Frozen Four level team.”

Propping my elbow on the table, I dipped my forehead into my hand while my chest tightened. Fuck, NHL contracts were not something I wanted to think about.

Zoma poured pasta into a colander in the sink. “You all right, Myles?”

Rubbing my forehead, I straightened. “Yeah, why do you ask?” Was I that obvious?

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