Page 66 of Bad Pucking Roommate

“Why would I do that? He makes me laugh.” Noah hugs Tripp a little tighter with the arm he’s still got slung around his shoulder.

“And if I do go too far, he knows exactly how to get me to stop talking.” Tripp waggles his eyebrows.

This is going nowhere. “Not that this conversation isn’t exactly how I planned to spend my morning, but can we focus for a second?” I look to Justus, “What are you thinking, babe?”

“Ooh pet names. Definitely boyfriends,” Tripp whispers to Noah.

Justus licks his pillowy bottom lip. “I’m thinking I don’t want to say anything. Not because we’re two men and not because of management’s rules. I just want to live in the moment. To see what we are privately before they make us into a spectacle.”

I give him a quick peck on the lips. “Then that’s what we’ll do. You guys can handle that, right?” I ask our uninvited guests.

“We aren’t going to out you without your permission.” Niko sounds offended by my question.

“I know you wouldn’t out us, but at the same time we’re asking you to keep a secret from the rest of the team. It’s not a fair request, but I’m asking anyway.”

Niko shrugs. “I asked you guys to do the same for me before I came out.”

“So did I,” Noah says.

“Neither of you were dating another teammate, though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Niko insists. “Everyone should have the right to come out, or not, on their own timeline. We sort of forced you into it today since we were worried about Justus, but that wasn’t the intent, and I’m sorry about that. How things go from here is totally up to you guys.” Niko looks to Noah for his input.

“I agree with everything Niko said,” Noah starts. “We’ll keep this secret as long as you need us to, although, I’d be more worried about you two spilling your secret than us.”

“What do you mean?” Justus’s brow furrows with worry.

“Xander’s right about the googly eyes,” Noah says. “We might be more conditioned to see it since we all suspected something was goingon, but all it takes is one lingering look and the rest of the guys will catch on. We’ve got half the season left, and if you want to make it to the end without anyone else finding out about you then you’re going to have to be way more discreet than you were during the last game you played together.”

“I still say that was a dirty hit,” I mumble.

“And I still say retaliation like that is the fastest way to out yourself,” Noah retorts. “On the ice, in front of the guys, you two have to be nothing more than teammates.”

“We can do that, right?” I look at Justus.

“Right.”

Noah sighs unconvincingly. “Let’s test that. Justus, have you been on the ice since your concussion?”

“No.”

“Get dressed,” my fellow captain says. “We’re headed to the rink.”

Chapter twenty-four

Justus

After skating for so many years, it comes as naturally to me as walking, and once my feet hit the ice muscle memory takes over. Each subtle shift of my legs carries me forward, looping around and around the rink. And while I can tell I’ve backtracked somewhat—my muscles seem to fatigue far too quickly—it’s also rejuvenating to feel the air rush past my face as I increase my speed.

Though Niko, Noah and Luca are on the ice with me while Xander and Tripp watch from the bench, and the four of us are skating as a pack to warm up, Luca is the only one I can sense without having to look at him. I don’t know if he’s watching me or I just inherently know where he is, like we’re tethered together. If it’s the latter, that’s no different than how we are during a game, except in those instances we’re reacting to our opponents and executing some variation of plays we’ve practiced, while this is just a free skate.

Five minutes into our skate, Noah declares the warmup is over, and he takes his place in goal so we can play a little two-on-one. Luca and I start at the opposite end of the rink and drive the puck toward the goal, attempting to get around Niko for a shot.

Nearly three weeks off the ice has made me rusty, and for the first few rounds of the drill I’m too slow to get past the league’s top defender. By the fifth attempt I’m starting to find my groove, and—copying one of Luca’s sneakier moves—I flick my wrist to send the puck between Niko’s legs as I skate seamlessly around him, connecting with it just before he can spin around, and sending it to an open Luca.

Almost.

My pass is a little off target, and in the time it takes for him to lurch toward the puck Niko has recovered and Noah is in position, so we don’t get a shot. Luca gives me an approving wink anyway, which brings a shy smile to my lips.

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