Zone Entry

Camrose U Book #1

Maia Kinley

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Copyright © 2025 Maia Kinley
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the
prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission
requests, contact [email protected].
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No
identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or
should be inferred.
Covert Art by Seajart
Editing by Raven Quill Editing, LLC

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 Contents

Author's Note
1. Nick
2. Caleb
3. Nick
4. Caleb
5. Nick
6. Caleb
7. Nick
8. Caleb
9. Nick
10. Caleb
11. Caleb
12. Nick
13. Caleb
14. Nick
15. Caleb
16. Nick
17. Caleb
18. Nick
19. Caleb
20. Nick
21. Caleb
22. Caleb
23. Nick
24. Caleb
25. Nick
26. Caleb
27. Nick
28. Nick
29. Caleb
30. Nick
31. Caleb
32. Nick
33. Caleb
34. Nick
35. Caleb
36. Nick
37. Caleb
38. Nick
Acknowledgements
About the author

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 Author's Note

T his book is a work of fiction and references real-life sports leagues.

While the rules and structures of these leagues are generally followed,
some details have been changed for the sake of the story. Any similarities to
real people, events, or organizations are purely coincidental.
While this is a light-hearted book with a happily ever after, the story
includes elements that might not be suitable for some readers such as:
Cheating (not by the main characters), mentioned death of a parent, pranks,
alcohol consumption, anxiety, chronic illness, and explicit scenes that are
for mature audiences only.

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 1

Nick

August

ey, Nick! You actually came out tonight. That’s a surprise.”

“H Forcing a smile, I nod at my teammate. There’s something in his
expression I can’t decipher, as if he’s wary about me being here.
He’s probably weirded out because I rarely go to parties.
“Yeah, I wanted to surprise Jessie!” I raise my voice over the loud music
and chatter surrounding us. “You see her around?”
He points towards the living room. There are several people in the way,
and I can’t see her from where I’m standing.
“Thanks.” I grin at him and turn away, making a beeline towards where
my girlfriend’s supposed to be.
I’ve never been a fan of parties even if my teammates insist they’re part
of the college experience. Honestly, I’d rather be in my dorm room right
now looking for a new show to binge than weaving myself through a mass
of drunk college kids.
Jessie wasn’t pleased when I told her I didn’t feel like going to this party
today. She said I never want to do anything with her and that it’s no fun,
even if I tried to tell her I’m exhausted from today’s practice.
 I caved after only half an hour alone in my dorm room, though—because
Jessie’s right. I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately and really have been
neglecting spending time with her.
So here I am, attempting to go surprise Jessie. We’ve been steady for a
year now, and she’s one of the best things ever to happen to me—she’s
pretty, fun, smart, and she drags me out of my shell.
She deserves a boyfriend who tries.
Now that I’m here, I’m giddy at the thought of how her face will light up
when she sees me. I wonder if she’ll flick her blonde hair behind her ear in
that way she does when she’s happy.
Except that when I round around the corner, I come to the very real truth
that this was a fucking horrible idea… because there, on the couch, is
Jessie, and she’s straddling a guy while making out with him.
Here.
In front of all these people.
In front of me.
Well, fuck.
Anyone else would probably march right up to them and yank her off
him, maybe get a good punch in. Anyone else would want to knock the
living daylights out of the guy who’s currently making out with their
girlfriend.
Apparently not me because my thoughts shut down and there’s only
numbness in me. I can’t even feel my overworked muscles anymore, and
the loud music and chatter surrounding me devolve into a buzz.
I don’t know who the guy is. He doesn’t look familiar at all, though Jessie
seems well acquainted with him by how she sticks her tongue in his mouth.
Neither of them have seen me and everyone else around us seem to be in
their tiny little world as well, and I stand, frozen, wondering what my next
move should be.
Then, just like that, the numbness turns into disappointment, and then
humiliation.
And I turn right around and get out of there.

***

“Nick, what’s wrong?”

 A shadow looms over me as Rhys peers down at me with those
judgmental brown eyes of his, an equally judgmental frown on his lips. I
love him, really. I wouldn’t survive college without him—but right now, I
want to be left alone.
I put on a well-practiced smile. “Nothing.”
Around the locker room, a few of our teammates glance over at me, and I
don’t know if I’m imagining the pity in their eyes. Even if we’re all tired
from practice, it’s uncommon for the room to be this quiet. Usually, my
teammates would be horsing around, not standing around talking in hushed
voices and casting me wary looks.
They know, don’t they? Of course they know. God, whatever. I fight not
to let my expression fall.
Rhys stares at me with pursed lips, and I continue to smile back at him as
if my life depended on it.
Coach Holland, fortunately, stops Rhys from saying anything else by
walking into the room and calling for everyone’s attention. “I’ve got an
announcement,” he says.
The thing about Coach is that his very presence demands to be noticed,
and everyone’s heads swiftly turn to him.
“We’ve got a transfer student coming. He wasn’t able to make it today,
but he’ll be here for our next practice. I expect everyone to be as welcoming
as they can be.”
A transfer?
Coach continues, “Some of you might remember Caleb Jennings from the
Michigan Tigers.”
Groans and sounds of disapproval echo through the locker room. Even I,
who makes it a point not to hold a grudge against other players—it’s only a
game, after all—grimace.
Rhys grumbles, “What the hell’s Jennings doing transferring in his senior
year?”
Caleb Jennings has always given our team a hard time. He plays as a
winger, like me, and is ridiculously skilled. Caleb’s also memorable not
only for how good he is on the ice, but also because of his huge mouth and
how he doesn’t hold back on his taunts.
He has a reputation for goading players into fights. There was even a
rumor going around that he got suspended back in high school for fighting
his own teammates right before a match.
 Sighing, I run a hand through my sweaty hair and close my eyes.
Awesome.
The last time I came face-to-face with Jennings, he threatened to knock
me out only because I smiled in his general direction. He thought me
smiling at him was a taunt.
“Coach!” Schultz calls out from the other side of the locker room. “Are
you serious? That guy’s a tool!”
Eyebrows lifting, Coach says, “He’s also my nephew.”
Silence.
Schultz unfolds his arms. “I mean… he’s brilliant. Can’t wait to be on the
ice with him.”
There are a few scattered snickers, and Coach gives Schultz a look that
would kill a weaker man.
I didn’t realize Caleb Jennings and Coach were related. They don’t share
a last name, but then I remember that Coach took his husband’s last name
when they got married, and that his middle initial is J. I also remember
seeing him talking to Jennings before, but I didn’t put any meaning to it.
Now, though, all these small details snap into place and paint a bigger
picture.
Coach turns to me. “Sandoval, a word.”
Rhys winces as I stand up and walk over to Coach. I swallow down the
nerves in me and fix my expression, wondering if Coach is going to yell at
me for my awful performance today. I’ve always looked up to him, even if
he’s strict on most days and pushes us to our limits—which is why I
fucking hate disappointing him.
“This isn’t your job, but I’d appreciate it if you could show Caleb around
campus when he gets here,” Coach tells me. “Give him a rundown of our
training schedule and everything, too. I want him up to speed immediately.”
My jaw drops. “Why me?”
Coach makes a face. “Hasn’t your resident assistant e-mailed you? He’s
your new roommate.”
“He’s my… what?”
Fuck. I haven’t checked my phone all day, mostly because Jessie’s been
blowing it up and I didn’t want to see any of that.
He flashes me a slight smile. “Caleb’s… dealing with some things right
now, and I want to make this change easy for him. I know he’s not the
easiest person to get along with, but you’re probably the most likable player
on the team.”
What am I, a babysitter?
I clear my throat. “Uh, Coach… you didn’t pull some strings, so we’d
room together, did you?”
His frown instantly makes me feel bad for even asking. “Of course not. I
asked Caleb who his roommate would be, and he gave me your name, and
that’s the only reason I know. Is there an issue?”
“Not at all.” I force a smile. Of course, I’ll attempt to help Jennings out.
Coach could ask me to jump off a cliff and I’d do it—that’s how much I
look up to him.
After a quick shower, I duck out of the locker room and find Rhys
waiting for me.
He straightens up and nods at me. “What did Coach say?”
“Guess who my new roommate is.”
“No way… Jennings?” Rhys sounds horrified.
“Yep.”
He lets out a roar of laughter. “Didn’t he threaten to knock you out the
last time we played against him?”
“Yep.” A sigh escapes me. “I enjoyed having a room to myself.”
I haven’t had a roommate since freshmen year… now I have to move my
shit off the extra desk and the mattress.
“To be fair, you don’t even have to be at the dorm,” Rhys says. “Your dad
would rent you an apartment if you asked.”
“I don’t like asking my dad for things.”
“Right, right.”
He’s not lying, though. Renting an apartment off-campus wouldn’t even
cost a dent in Dad’s wallet. He would probably call his assistant and get it
done within a day, and I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Still, I hate bothering
Dad. He’s way too busy for that.
“Want me to come with you?” Rhys asks when we get to our building.
“Jennings might be here already, and you might need backup.”
“He’s just another guy. Relax.”
“Yeah, but he’s kind of an ass and you’re… you.”
I stop walking in the middle of the hallway, turning to him slowly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
 Rhys tilts his head and gives me a small smile. “You’re a nice guy. The
nice guy. I worry about you, Nick. You don’t know how to get angry.”
“Rhys,” I warn.
“I heard about what happened with Jessie.”
“Nothing happened.”
“She was sucking face with someone from the baseball team. Please tell
me you broke up with her.”
“I did. You can even check my phone messages if you don’t trust me.”
He won’t see much. After heading straight back to my room after seeing
Jessie and that random guy, I sent her one message.
Me: We should break up.
Jessie didn’t reply until the next morning, probably because she was too
busy doing… well, that guy, and her back-to-back messages made it clear
that she was taken completely off-guard. She sent dozens of frantic
messages and called many times. I couldn’t bring it upon myself to reply or
pick up… and that wasn’t out of spite, but because I’m pretty sure if I
actually spoke to her and she disagreed with the break up, I’d cave right
away and take her back in a second.
Honestly, I’ve already convinced myself that I probably misunderstood
what I saw. Maybe that wasn’t even Jessie. Maybe I didn’t even have to
worry about the guy she was sitting on—did I even see them actually kiss?
Holy fuck. I’m delusional.
What the hell is wrong with me, really?
“I believe you,” Rhys tells me. He walks towards his dorm room, which
is on the first floor, and I smile at him and make my way towards the
elevators. He waits outside his door until I get inside the elevators, giving
me a nod as the doors close.
When I get out on the fourth floor, I immediately glance down the hall
towards my room. The door’s ajar and there are two boxes outside, which
means Jennings is here.
So looking forward to this.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and walk down the hall, pausing right
outside the door and giving it a slight knock before stepping in.
“Hey there,” I greet.
Jennings, who’s organizing his closet, turns to me. “Hey. Roommate,
right? I took your stuff off my side.”
 He gestures towards my side of the room, which is identical to his, with
its single bed and closet. Even if his side is still bare, the room looks
smaller now that someone else is in it. There’s a window on the wall where
our headboards are against, and two study desks separating our beds, and I
can see that he’s pushed the books off his desk towards mine.
I nod. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t know you were coming today, so I wasn’t
able to tidy up.”
He shrugs.
I’ve only met him a few times before, and all those times were on the ice.
He was always in his gear, face red and his sweaty blond hair sticking to his
nape. It’s the first time I’m getting a good look at him, and he’s doing the
same thing—giving me a once-over and not even being subtle about it.
He looks slimmer without all the gear, and he’s about my height—six
feet, give or take. He has nipple piercings, which protrude through his tight-
fitting white shirt. When I realize I’m staring at his damn chest, I snap my
gaze to his.
When he’s not behind the cage of a helmet, his eyes are surprisingly
striking. I find myself wondering what shade of blue his eyes are, exactly.
They’re not an uncommon shade so it’s a bit strange that I find them
curious, and it’s not until closer look that I realize it’s because they’ve got
tiny flecks of green. So tiny they’re easy to miss, but grab attention once
noticed.
Shit. I went from staring at his chest to staring at his eyes. What’s going
on with me?
“I’m Caleb,” he says.
“I… yeah, I know. We’ve played against each other a few times before.
I’m Nicholas Sandoval, but you can call me Nick.”
Caleb’s brow furrow together and he gives me another once-over. “Right,
my uncle… well, I should probably get used to calling him Coach,
mentioned you were also on the team. Really, we’ve played against each
other?”
“Yes.” You threatened to knock me out.
“Oh, my bad. Not so good with faces. Or names. What position?”
“Right winger.”
“Cool, I play left. Maybe we’ll end up on the same line.”
“Yeah,” I murmur, forcing a smile.
“What’s that?”
 “What’s… what?”
“That creepy thing you’re doing with your face.”
That easily, my smile drops, and I blink at him. “I… huh? It’s a… smile?”
“Listen.” Caleb grimaces, and his posture is stiff, leaving me wondering
what the hell I did wrong. “I don’t know what that is, but that definitely
wasn’t a smile.”
What the…?
Irritation courses down my spine and I smile again, much tighter this
time, only because if I don’t, my patience might slip. I don’t usually let
words get to me, but it’s been a rough day.
Suddenly, he lets out a hoarse laugh. The sound of it grates on my nerves.
“Wait! Yeah! Sandoval. I remember you. I remember that annoying smile of
yours, anyway. Freaked me out and I said I’d knock you out if you didn’t
quit it.”
I can practically feel the vein in my temple pulsing. “Mm-hmm.”
Caleb’s expression twists, then he shakes his head and mutters something
under his breath. He turns away and goes back to fixing his closet,
dismissing me.
Well. Okay, then.
Wanting to get out of one of the weirdest and most aggravating
interactions of my life, I head to our small bathroom. I shut the door behind
me and lean against it, scrubbing a hand down my face and letting out a
deep breath.
For the first time in a long time, I’m actually pissed off.

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 2

Caleb

elcome to Camrose U, we’re happy to have you,” Maddox says

“W dryly, smirking. My best friend holds me by the shoulders and looks
at me from head to toe, studying me. He acts like we didn’t just see
each other over summer break, and it makes me snort. We live on the same
street, and he was over at my house a lot, mostly making sure I was on top
of everything I needed for my transfer here.
I make a show of giving him a once-over as well. Maddox has a bit of a
baby face, and along with his thick lashes and plump lips, he gets called a
pretty boy a lot. Which he hates.
He’s got a heavy-looking shoulder bag that probably has tons of books in
it, and I already know he’s going to make me carry it. I’m guessing he has a
tutor session because he told me to meet him out at the quad this afternoon.
He wouldn’t be outside otherwise.
It’s a huge relief to see him today, though. While we always hang out
every time I’m in town, it’s nice that we’re studying in one place again, just
like back in high school. Him being here is probably one of the few plus
sides Camrose has.
Maddox asks, “How does it feel, playing for the Rams?”
“Like I’m on the losing team.”
“Caleb,” he says, rolling his eyes. “You literally just got here yesterday.
Have you even been to practice?”
 “This afternoon’s the first, and that doesn’t matter. They haven’t made it
to the finals in years.”
“You’re the one who transferred here.”
“Yeah, because I wanted to move back to Buffalo.”
“Then suck it up! Besides, your uncle’s the coach. Should you be trash-
talking his—your—team like that?”
I make a noncommittal sound. “The team’s improved a lot since he
signed on as coach, but not enough. Some of the guys are brilliant, but
they’ve got no cohesion, and they need more aggressive forwards.”
“They’re so lucky to have you then.”
I don’t miss the sarcasm, but I nod anyway. “Exactly.”
“Yes, you’re such a powerful, skilled hockey player and you’re definitely
going to help bring the team to regionals this year. Help me out here, my
very strong best friend.” His tone’s dry as he casually gives me his bag, and
I scowl at its weight. “Your practice isn’t for another hour, right? Help me
carry this. I’m meeting someone for a quick tutor session.”
Called it.
“Fine,” I grumble, hiking his bag over my shoulder and following his
lead.
He tells me about his new teaching assistant job and how he had to take
less tutees this sem because of it, and I listen, impressed. Maddox has
always been smart as shit. He’s in his fourth year of college like me, but
while I’ll be hightailing it out of here after this year, he’s going to stick
around to get a graduate degree. He wants to be a math professor one day,
and while I’ve never understood his fascination with numbers and teaching,
but it makes him happy, so good for him.
We end up under the shadow of an enormous tree. His tutee is a girl
whose name I immediately forget, and they spread their books on a blanket
and get right to it. While they’re studying, I lie on my back and scroll
through my phone, looking through part-time job postings. Back in
Michigan, I worked part time as a barista, and I only hope I can find
something similar here.
Camrose was willing to give a transfer student like me a scholarship
thanks to my outstanding grades and stats, and most likely because of my
uncle’s influence, but I still need pocket money for everything else. Like
food and water.
 Asking Mom to help me is out of the question. She didn’t even want me
to move back to Buffalo in the first place, but I don’t regret it at all. Even if
I had to give up a spot in a team that was last year’s conference champions,
I’d still do it again in a heartbeat.
I want to live near my family… I need to. Even if I’m staying on campus
so that it’s easier to juggle class and hockey, being much closer to them is a
tremendous relief. If there’s another emergency, I’m only a half-hour drive
away.
There.
I come across a job posting for a coffee shop that’s right outside campus.
It’s called Stella Café and they’re looking for a part-timer.
“Madd,” I say. “You familiar with Stella Café?”
Maddox, who’s leaning back and people-watching while his tutee works
on something on her own, glances at me. “Yeah. It’s about a ten-minute
walk from here. Why?”
“They’ve got an opening for a part-time job.”
“I have a friend who’s a barista. Want me to ask if they can get you an
interview?”
“Shit, that’d be perfect. Please.”
He takes his phone out of his bag, and I watch him, only to be distracted
by a familiar voice.
Getting up on my elbows, I look in the direction and find my new
roommate, Nick Sandoval, talking to two women.
I can’t help but grimace at their body language—the women keep
giggling and touching his arm, and Nick doesn’t pull away even if he seems
slightly indifferent to their flirting.
And he’s wearing that annoyingly fake smile of his.
Okay, so I might have lied to Nick when I said I couldn’t remember his
name or his face. Of course I remembered him.
My uncle has mentioned him many times, and I remember him from the
handful of times we’ve played against each other. He’s an amazing player,
and I know. He’s effortlessly skilled, and he lets nothing get to him, as if
nothing bothers him.
It’s as if he doesn’t even realize there are other people on the damn rink.
He just does his thing, wearing that infuriating smile of his the whole time.
That stupid, goddamn smile. It pisses me off, especially when he directed
it at me that one time his team was up by three points. I told him to wipe
that smile off or I’d knock it off for him.
When he introduced himself yesterday, I pretended not to know him. You
know, just to fuck with him. It was also funny how he stared at my
piercings as if he’s never seen any before, and I was wondering if I should
call him out for it.
Then he smiled. Again. Irritating smug asshole. So, I dropped the act and
told him exactly how much I hate that smile of his.
“Caleb?” Maddox asks. “Why are you staring at Nick Sandoval like you
want to punch him?”
“You know who he is?”
The girl he’s tutoring snorts, and I glare at her. She says, “Everyone
knows who Nick Sandoval is.”
“He’s my new roommate.”
“Really? How do you like him?” Maddox’s eyes widen. “He’s cool,
right? He’s incredibly nice, smart, and…”
“And what?”
“He’s easy to look at.”
“You’re into jocks now?”
He scoffs. “No, but I’m not blind. Nick’s hot.”
“Eh.”
He is, but I can’t let Maddox think I know that. I’d never hear the end of
it.
It sucks that Nick’s one of those people that gets on my nerves without
even trying because, honestly, Maddox is right when he says Nick’s hot.
Even if he has the most nonexistent personality ever.
I immediately noticed him the first time I faced him at a game about three
years ago. I remember memorizing the name of his jersey and instantly
thinking he looked good—with his dark hair and eyes and deep voice. He’s
got that classic boy next door, and I can see the appeal, though now that I
know better, there’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me.
The two girls get into another fit of giggles at something Nick says. He
then shakes his head, and they seem disappointed. Nodding at him, the two
girls give a slight wave and walk off.
As soon as Nick turns away from them, his smile slips by a fraction, and
he walks in our direction. He’s probably already heading to the rink for
practice.
 Ugh. I lie back down on the blanket and put my arm over my eyes,
hopeful he doesn’t spot us.
“Hi, Maddox, Jean,” I hear Nick say, and I mentally groan.
Maddox and his tutee—Jean, apparently—greet him back. He doesn’t call
out to me, so I assume he doesn’t recognize me with my arm over my face,
or he thinks I’m asleep and doesn’t want to wake me, so I continue to
pretend we don’t exist in each other’s lives.
“Heard you’re Caleb’s new roommate,” Maddox says.
Aaand thanks, Madd.
“Yeah. You know each other?” Nick sounds surprised. My best friend, the
traitor, probably points at me because Nick follows up with, “Oh, that’s…
sorry, Caleb, didn’t recognize you.”
“Hey, Nick,” I grunt, putting my arm away from my face to give him a
long, hard stare.
The corner of his mouth twitches, and he digs his hands deep in his
pockets. He hesitates for a second, then clears his throat. “I’m heading to
practice. Want a ride?”
Maddox turns to me with a knowing stare and waggles his eyebrows, and
I resist the urge to kick him.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” I mutter. “I have a car.”
Nick’s shoulders are stiff. Again, he hesitates, shifting between his feet.
He says, “Yeah, but we can carpool.”
I squint at how awkward he’s standing. It’s such a huge contrast to how
casual he looked when talking to the two girls, and it’s as if he’s forcing
himself to be friendly with me.
Which makes no sense to me. There’s no reason for him to reach out to
me like this, and it’s creeping me the hell out.
“Nah,” I tell him. “I’ll see you at practice.”
His shoulders slacken, as if that was the answer he was hoping for.
Weirdo. Why even ask, then?
“All right, see you there. Bye, Maddox, Jean.”
“Bye,” Jean says, and I’m pretty sure she’s swooning.
“See you around, Nick,” Maddox says, and Nick flashes us a smile before
turning away.
I put my arm over my eyes again before Maddox can ask me what that
was about, because even I can’t even explain why Nick gets on my nerves.
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 3

Nick

o what’s Jennings like?” Schultz asks me as we’re getting ready for

“S practice.
I look around the locker room to make sure that nobody else is
around. Most of the team’s not here yet, but I enjoy getting here before
everyone else, and Schultz and Rhys almost always have the same idea.
“We haven’t talked much,” I say.
“I wonder why he transferred?” He stretches his arms and grabs his gear.
“Makes little sense to me why he’d come here when he was on a team that
was doing so much better.”
Rhys shrugs. “Maybe it was a personal reason. Coach is his uncle, so
maybe his family’s from Buffalo. Why don’t you ask him, Nick?”
Coach was vague about it, but he said that Caleb was going through
something, and I wonder if that’s the reason he came here.
“I can’t ask him because he hates me.” I attempt at nonchalance, but my
words come out clipped. Rhys lifts his eyebrows.
Caleb hasn’t said it outright, but that’s the impression I get from him.
Caleb’s unpleasant and he doesn’t hold back, and I can’t tell if he’s that way
to everyone or if there’s something specific about me that he dislikes. It
seems too petty to me that he’d be that way only because of the way I smile.
Rhys scoffs. “What makes you say that?”
“He said my smile was creepy, and he glares at me for no reason.”
 “What an ass.”
Coach pretty much asked me to befriend him, and Caleb’s doing
everything possible for me to fail at that. Granted, it’s only been a day—so
maybe he’s simply adjusting and he’s not usually this difficult.
Though, my impression of him as my new roommate matches the
impression I have of him on the ice—cocky, obnoxious, and antagonistic
for no reason.
“Speaking of the devil!” Schultz suddenly yells. He puts his hands on his
hips and grins wide at Caleb, who’s just arrived with his hockey bag over
his shoulder and a blank look on his face. “Yo! I’m Schultz, one of your
defensemen. This is Rhys Morgan, our captain—and you should know
Nick!”
Caleb seems taken aback by Schultz’s enthusiasm, though he recovers
quickly and nods at him. “Hey.”
Rhys gets up from where he’s sitting. “C’mon, I’ll show you around the
place.”
“I’m good.” Caleb yawns and walks past us. “It’s a rink, Captain. How
hard can it be to find my way around?”
Frowning, Rhys gives me a look and rolls his eyes, and I can’t help but
stifle a laugh.
All right, then. Maybe he is this way towards everyone, and I don’t need
to take it personally.
Schultz is undeterred by Caleb’s attitude though, striding right up next to
him and telling him he’ll show him to his stall. He also tells Caleb his
uniform’s been delivered, and then asks what he’s majoring in.
After a few minutes, Caleb’s one-worded grunts have turned into actual
answers, and it seems he’s warmed up to Schultz. It doesn’t surprise me,
though. Schultz has always had that effect on people.
Fantastic for them, I guess.

***

Shit. Caleb’s amazing.

He’s incredibly fast and his handling is out of this world. During drills,
the other guys on the team struggle to keep up with him and watching him
pumps up my energy.
 I pull away from the team for a quick water break. Walters, another
forward, does the same.
When he’s done gulping water from his bottle, he wipes at his chin and
gives me a look. “Why are you smiling?”
Without hesitation, I cock my head at Caleb. “He’s good.”
He frowns. “You think this is really how he plays all the time? Or is he
showing off because it’s his first practice with us?”
“I don’t think he’s showing off. He’s always been a menace when we’re
against him.”
“Yeah, but there’s no reason to go all out right now. We’re only doing
drills.”
“Don’t let Rhys hear you,” I joke. Rhys hates it when we slack off only
because it’s practice. He always tries to push us, no matter what. I think it
frustrates Rhys that, during our stay here, we haven’t made it to the finals.
It’s not that our team’s not good—I’m positive that we are—but we’re
missing something. What that is, I don’t even know.
Caleb comes to an abrupt stop in front of Walters and I. “Why are you
two standing around?”
“Resting,” Walters answers for both of us.
“Ugh. Gross.” Caleb makes a face. “Move, pillow princesses.”
He skates away, and Walters gives me a scandalized look. “It’s his first
fucking day! Who does he think he is, talking to us like that?”
I can’t help but laugh. When it’s not directed at me—all right, this time, it
was only half directed at me—he’s pretty funny.
Coach blows his whistle and tells us to line up for the next drill, and I
skate right up to Caleb. He turns and gives me an unamused look, and I
instinctively give him a smile before I remember he hates it.
Now that I’m already smiling though, it’d be weirder to drop it—so I let
it stay. Caleb stares at me as if I’m a psychopath.
“You can’t talk to your new teammates like that,” I tell him.
He genuinely looks confused. “What’d I say?”
“You called us pillow princesses. Walters is pissed.”
“Oh.” He looks behind me and grins, and when I look over my shoulder, I
see Walters seething at our direction. “I bet you I’m going to have his spot
on first line before our first game.”
I agree with him, but I won’t tell him that.
Caleb smirks and meets my gaze. “Or maybe I’ll take yours, golden boy.”
 “Golden boy…?”
“You heard me. Or do you prefer campus hottie? Prom king?”
Frowning, I mutter, “What are you going on about?”
He waggles his eyebrows and lets out a huff of laughter, making me even
more confused. “Boy next door?” he asks. “Shit, don’t tell me you actually
prefer pillow princess?”
“Not sure what this nonsense is,” I tell him just when one of the assistant
coaches blow a whistle. Ahead of him, one of our forwards move, and
Caleb blinks when I push him aside slightly to take his turn. “But just so
we’re clear, you’re never getting my spot.”
Caleb wheezes. “Well, well, so the golden boy actually has some
personality!”
I ignore him completely, though his laughter rings in my ears as I leave
him behind.
Trash talking on the ice isn’t entirely new, if you could even call it that—
he was basically making a list of nicknames that mocked me, but I doubt
being called hottie could even be called an insult.
Weird, though… me proclaiming that he’d never get my spot escaped me
before I even knew what I was saying.
I didn’t even realize I cared that much about my spot.

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 4

Caleb

his is Stella Café,” Maddox says. “My friend said the manager’s
“T going to come at around five and you can talk to her about a part-
time job.”
“Thanks, Madd.”
He leads me inside the modern-looking coffee shop. There’s chatter all
around and it’s filled to the brim with college students, though Maddox
easily weaves us towards a two-seater table. He offers to get our orders, and
I shrug, absently staring out the window.
Maddox soon comes back with two, absurdly tall, iced coffees with
whipped cream, sliding mine in front of me. I frown. He’s always had a
sweet tooth, but I did tell him to order me whatever.
“You’ve been here for a week now, made any new friends yet?” Maddox
asks.
“What is this, kindergarten?”
He snorts. “I’ll take that as a no. What about the guys on your team?”
“They exist. A few of them are all right.”
Some of the guys are in my Economics class and they usually include me
in their conversation, which is cool of them, I guess. Schultz is hilarious
and entertaining, and he doesn’t let my shit-talking get to him. He’s
probably the one I’ve been getting along with the most.
 Walters is annoyingly uptight, and I don’t get along with Captain Rhys
Morgan at all. I also can’t stand Morgan’s right-hand lackey.
Coincidentally, that would be Nick, my fabulously dull roommate.
“Meet any cute guys?” Maddox prods.
For fuck’s sake, I’ve barely been here for a week and he’s already trying
to micromanage me. “None that have caught my eye.”
“Okay… have you been getting along with Nick?”
That gets a reaction from me. “He creeps me out.”
“What’s wrong with Nick? He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
“He’s not nice. Keeps asking me how I’m doing and offering to show me
around campus, introduce me to people, tell me which professors to get.”
“Uh, Caleb. That’s the definition of nice.”
Nick’s not nice. I’m convinced that it’s all an act, though I’ve only seen
his facade slip once, and that was days ago during our very first practice.
Since then, it’s like he’s been making it his life mission to be as polite as he
can be, despite me purposely taunting him.
I shake my head, strangely invested in proving my point. “It’s all fake
politeness, along with that fake smile of his. It’s seriously giving murderer
vibes.”
Maddox bursts out laughing. “He hasn’t done anything to you to warrant
such a strong reaction, Caleb.”
“I’m telling you… he’s not as great as you all think he is. He’s a fake-ass
golden boy playing a role nobody asked him to.”
Beside us, someone clears their throat, and I raise my head to see who it
is. Standing close to our table with to-go coffee in their hands is Rhys and,
lo and behold, none other than Nick himself.
I grimace. The one time all week he leaves our dorm aside from practice
and his classes, and he has to take a trip to the café while I’m shit-talking
him to Maddox?
Rhys, who was probably the one who called our attention, glares at me.
Nick’s shoulders are stiff, and his ears are red, but he’s staring out the door,
as if he wants to go. I wish he would.
“You eavesdropping on us?” I ask, frowning. An odd, unpleasant
sensation settles in my guts.
Guilt. That’s guilt I’m feeling.
“Caleb,” Maddox reprimands.
 “Hard not to when your voice is that loud,” Rhys tells me. “You’re an ass,
Jennings.”
I put a hand to my chest and mock a gasp. “Oh, no.”
Nick puts a hand on Rhys’s arm and pushes him slightly, still avoiding
looking at me. His eyes are darting around the place. “Can we go?”
Rhys says to him, voice low but still audible, “Relax. She’s not here.
You’re the one who wanted to get a drink.”
Who’s not here?
Nick mutters, “Rhys, let’s just go.”
Rhys grunts and heads out, and Nick finally meets my eyes with his deep
brown ones. It sends a weird tingling sensation down my spine, and I want
to blame it on the crazy vibe he constantly gives out. Nick’s gaze flickers
past me and lands on Maddox.
“Nice seeing you,” Nick says, cracking a smile. He nods at Maddox, who
smiles brightly back at him. What the actual fuck? Maddox does not smile
that way, most especially to jocks.
“That was embarrassing,” Maddox says once they’re gone. “For you, I
mean.”
“If you tell me you have a crush on Nick Sandoval, I’m going to lose my
mind.”
“I don’t do jocks, remember? I think he’s nice is all. Besides, is he even
into guys?”
“I wouldn’t know. What the hell?” This entire thing’s going to drive me
to an early grave. I grumble under my breath and finally take a sip from my
untouched drink, only to gag at how damn sweet it is. “If I end up working
here, I’m not making it like this.”
“It tastes fine.”
“No, it’s too sweet. It tastes shitty.” A movement behind the counter
catches my eye. A young woman’s just arrived, and since her apron’s black
instead of green like the other staff, I point at her. “Is that the manager?”
Maddox glances over his shoulder. “Yeah. She should know you’re
coming.”
I get up. “Excuse me, need to secure myself a job.”
“Don’t forget to dazzle them with your oh so pleasant personality,” he
deadpans, earning a laugh from me.
 ***

It’s late when I get back to my dorm, and Nick is sitting cross-legged on his
bed with his laptop perched on his thighs. Probably watching his stupid
shows again. He glances at me when I get in and slips his headphones on,
and his laptop goes quiet.
He always puts his headphones on when I’m here, and it took me a while
to realize it was so that the noise wouldn’t bother me.
Funny, because I play my music at full blast when I want to. Honestly, I
didn’t realize that was rude until Nick happened.
“Here.” I reach out to hand him a box with a chocolate cupcake in it. The
manager gave it to me as a welcome gift, telling me I could start next
Tuesday. She said to look for a girl named Jessie when I got there, who’d
show me the ropes.
Nick pauses his show, takes his headphones off, and takes the box.
“What’s this?”
“Peace offering.”
He snorts, which is one of the most genuine reactions I’ve ever gotten
from him. Nick opens the box and pulls out the cupcake, eyeing it for a
second before biting into it.
His expression lightens up and color comes to his cheeks, and I can’t help
but stare at how he licks away the crumbs on his lower lip.
“Thanks! I love sweets,” he says, grinning widely.
I give him a hard stare. “Great, because I got a part-time job at the place.
I think I’ll be bringing back a lot of sweets.”
Nick jolts, his fingers tightening around the cupcake. “You got a job at
Stella?”
“Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing,” he mutters. Nick shoves his headphones back on and
unpauses his show, and I stare at him for too long trying to figure what the
heck that was. He continues to eat the cupcake, his attention focused on his
screen. Frowning, I put my jacket away and sit on my bed.
It’s not until he finishes the cupcake and starts licking the frosting off his
fingers that I realize I’m staring. Baffled by myself, I finally look away.
Honestly, maybe I’m watching him so closely because I’m still annoyed
that he’s not even bothering to bring up what I said. I called him a fake-ass
golden boy, and he doesn’t care? Just took my peace offering and thanked
me for it?
It only proves my point, really. He’s definitely got a few screws loose.
Unfortunately for him, I’m not giving him any peace. I get up and walk
over to the side of his bed. He glances up, taking off his headphones once
more when I gesture at them.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“The shit I said. It doesn’t bug you?”
The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s going to smile, then he stops
himself. “It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I’m not beating myself up over it.”
He shrugs. “All I’m saying is… don’t worry about it.”
The way he says it is so… genuine. It’s creeping me out. “You’re
seriously okay with me saying you have the vibes of a murderer?”
Nick makes a strangled noise, then bursts out laughing. “I didn’t even
hear that.”
“So it doesn’t bother you? Doesn’t piss you off?”
Why I’m pushing for an answer is beyond me, but I want to get a damn
read on this guy.
“Of course it bothered me. It hurt my feelings, if that’s what you wanted
to hear.” The way his jaw clenches tells me he’s telling the truth. “But it’s
fine. I can’t please everyone. Thank you for the peace offering, though. I
appreciate it.”
I blink at him. When his stare flickers to my fists, I realize I’m clenching
them. Sighing, I lay my hands flat against my jeans and force myself to
relax.
“All right,” I say, turning around and walking away.
Fuck. I was wrong.
He’s not a fake-ass golden boy.
No… Nick Sandoval’s a fucking doormat.

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 5

Nick

I know Coach had high hopes that Caleb and I would get along, but that’s
basically impossible.
Even if I backed off and left him alone once I found out he hated what he
calls the “fake-ass golden boy” attitude, nothing changed.
If anything, he seems a lot more passive-aggressive. He’s doing these
random things to annoy me, such as taking long morning showers even if he
knows I also have early classes and turning his music louder when I’m
studying.
I wouldn’t think he was doing them on purpose if he didn’t keep glancing
at me, as if trying to size me up. That’s how he is on the ice, too. He teases
and taunts people until they snap. He thinks it’s amusing, which I don’t get.
At all.
And the things he does do annoy me, though I’ve quickly figured out that
if I don’t give him the reaction that he’s looking for, then he’s the one who
loses his temper in the end.
So I continue to act like his taunts are only minor inconveniences that I
can look away from.
Unfortunately, Rhys doesn’t have the same outlook.
My best friend has been annoyed with Caleb on my behalf, glaring at him
and practically hissing at him every time he walks by. Rhys has always
been like that. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and he’s always
taken it upon himself to be overly protective. I know he’d stop if I asked
him to, but I don’t want him to feel as if I don’t appreciate it. Because I do.
I’m lucky that he always has my back.
I’m just not sure how to tell him he’s only encouraging Caleb to taunt
him even more, though.
Coach’s idea of doing a scrimmage and experimenting with Caleb, Rhys,
and me on the same line is going horribly. He wanted to see where Caleb fit
in, and I can tell you now—Caleb and Rhys do not work together. At all.
Though… Caleb and I jived better than I expected, which surprised both
of us. He always goes all out in practice and even Rhys has a hard time
keeping up with him and his passes, and because I may be more passive-
aggressive that I thought, I may have upped my intensity to match Caleb’s.
I thought he’d be irritated because I was intentionally passing where he
shouldn’t be, but he was there. Every time. He never complained, and I
think I may have spotted him grinning ear to ear every time he’d return the
favor. Each time I went a little faster to match him, he only seemed to get
more pumped up.
We’re heading to the sidelines when Caleb grumbles, almost too quietly,
“Not bad, Sandoval.” Not expecting the compliment, I flush immediately.
Before I can respond, though, he adds in a much louder voice, “Much better
than our captain who can’t keep up with either of us.”
Rhys grits his teeth. “You won’t even pass to me.”
“I won’t pass to you if you won’t do shit.”
“You damn—”
Sighing, I get between them. Coach blows his whistle and tells us to cool
it, and I drag Rhys away.
“I’m close to punching him, Nick,” Rhys seethes. He slams his stick
against the bench and yanks his helmet off, earning him a wry look from
Coach.
“Please don’t,” I mutter.
Caleb bursts out laughing. “Please do. Playing with you is so dull. I’m
begging you to make it interesting.”
Rhys shakes his gloves off, shoves me aside, and grabs Caleb by the front
of his shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this angry before, the look in
his eyes murderous. Caleb grins at him and cocks his head to the side,
taunting him further.
 “Enough!” Coach yells. “Caleb, stop messing with your new teammates.
The three of you better get a grip or I’m benching all of you for our first
game.”
My jaw drops. What did I do?
Rhys grumbles and lets go of Caleb, who gives his uncle a mock salute.
“Morgan, go cool off. Caleb, see me in my office.” Coach shakes his head
and turns to his assistant, his expression twisted in frustration.
Giving Caleb one last icy glare, Rhys heads to the locker room, leaving
me pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Oh, Sandoval,” Coach suddenly calls, lifting his chin at me. “Actually, I
need to talk to you as well. My office, before you go.”
What, to ask me to babysit Caleb again? To his face this time?
I nod at Coach and make my way to the locker room, absently listening to
the surrounding chatter. Schultz and Caleb are walking in front of me, and
Schultz is poking fun at Caleb for the shit he’s been pulling all day.
Snickering, Caleb seems pleased with himself.
Coach should have asked Schultz to babysit instead. I have half the mind
to ask him if he’d like to switch dorm rooms with me.
“You know what I noticed?” Schultz suddenly asks Caleb. He looks over
his shoulder to see if I’m listening too. “Sandoval, you want to hear?”
“Sure?” I ask uncertainly.
“Your styles when entering the offensive zone are drastically different.
Jennings here is aggressive and always does a dump and chase, sending it in
deep, messing with the defense line and then fighting for possession. You,
Sandoval, are the exact opposite and always go for a controlled entry.”
I frown, debating whether I want to disagree with Schultz—but he’s the
team’s best defenseman and is always quick to notice these things, and I
don’t think I have it in me to get into it with him right now.
Caleb, of course, doesn’t have the same inhibitions. He argues, “My way
works better.”
“Not when it gets predictable! You need to change it up a bit, like Morgan
does. He does whatever fits. Jennings, your zone entries are too aggressive.
Sandoval, yours are too controlled.”
Caleb snorts. “Okay, chill. It’s only practice, of course I’ll mix it up in an
actual game.”
That seems to satisfy Schultz, and he lets it go.
 In the locker room, Rhys is nowhere to be seen—probably made a beeline
towards the shower. I text him not to wait for me today, and that I’ll head
back on my own, and then change into a shirt and slacks. Grabbing my bag,
I make my way to Coach’s office. I’m all sweaty and I hate how my clothes
cling to me, but I’d rather catch Coach before Caleb does and take a shower
back in the dorm.
Unfortunately, it turns out he has the same idea.
When I get to Coach’s office, only Caleb’s there, sitting on one of the
chairs across Coach’s desk and running a hand through his damp hair.
Brilliant.
He makes a face. “What, you’re just going to stand there?”
“I’ll come back.”
Before I can head off, though, Coach appears in the hallway and walks
towards me. He waves me inside his office, and I stand there like the
dumbass that I am.
Coach glances inside his office and clears his throat. “Caleb, can I have a
word with Sandoval first?”
“I got here first.”
“I’m not here to talk to you about hockey.”
“Jesus, did you call me to your office to catch up with me?” Caleb huffs
out a laugh. When he sees how Coach lifts his eyebrows and fixes him a
stare, Caleb clears his throat and mumbles, “Sorry.”
My jaw almost drops. This guy can actually apologize? Coach is a
fucking magician.
“But,” Caleb says, and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face, “I share
a room with my good friend here. We don’t share any secrets. Can I sit here
while you talk? It’s fine, right? Nicky?”
Nicky?
What a load of bullshit. I force the biggest, most fake smile I can muster,
only because I know it annoys him. “Of course.”
Coach frowns. “Are you sure, Sandoval? I wanted to talk to you about
agents.”
Fuck. My smile wavers, but I catch myself when Caleb fixes a stare at
me. “Yes.”
“All right. If you say so.”
God, my chest tightens as I take the other seat in front of the desk, right
across Caleb, who’s giving me a smug smile. Coach rounds the table and
takes a seat, leaning back and giving his nephew a long look. Then he sighs
and shakes his head, probably deciding that it’s not worth telling Caleb to
leave.
“Okay, Sandoval,” Coach says. “I’ll cut to the chase. I know you’ve told
me before that you’re not interested in going pro, but an agent—Aleks
Polinski, if you’re familiar with him—has been asking about you.”
“Um.”
“You’re one of the best college players around, and you’re on your senior
year. I believe more people will express interest. You told me before that
going pro is not possible for you, and that’s why you never joined the draft.
Is that still the case?”
I nod, ignoring the way my stomach twists.
If I had a spine, I’d be honest and say, fuck yes. Let me talk to them. Let
me go pro. Unfortunately, I give Coach my practiced answer. “I’m not
interested in going pro.”
Caleb’s scoff is a stark reminder that he’s here for this. “Wait up, you
didn’t even join the draft, with those stats of yours? And now you don’t
want to be a free agent? What a waste.”
And just like that, my anxiety’s replaced with anger. Yes, I didn’t join the
draft despite being strongly advised to. At eighteen, I was told that if I had
joined, I would probably have been one of the first picks—but since I knew
that I’d never be going pro, I didn’t see the point.
Now that I’m in my final year of college hockey, because I’m undrafted,
my last chance of going pro is to be a free agent—but I shouldn’t even be
thinking of that possibility, despite Coach and Rhys nudging me towards
that path.
It’s not the smartest decision, I know, and I could do without Caleb
reminding me about it. My mouth twitches and I glower at him.
“Caleb, get out,” Coach says sternly.
“What?” Caleb laughs, leaning forward towards me. A whiff of his scent
invades my senses, further yanking me away from the tightening in my
chest. Instinctively, I sit up straighter to get away from him. “You can have
something many people would kill for, and you don’t even want it.”
I want it.
“Caleb.” Coach’s voice is much more firm now. “I let you get away with
a lot of things because you’re my nephew, and I know you’re going through
something, but you’re toeing the line here.”
 “My bad.” Caleb shrugs and leans back and mimes zipping his mouth,
saying, “I’m not here.”
Coach grunts. “Get out.”
“It’s fine.” I look at Coach and smile. “Thanks, Coach. I appreciate it,
but… I’m going to be helping my dad with his company right after I
graduate.”
Caleb asks, “Does he pay as much as the NHL?”
Something in me breaks and I swivel towards him and snap, “I thought
you weren’t here?”
He seems to be taken off-guard for a moment—then he gets that shit-
eating grin of his again, leaning back and crossing his arms as he studies
me.
Coach scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. “Thank you, Sandoval. That
was all. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“Thank you,” I say again, making a move to get up.
Then I pause, glancing at Caleb, who’s still watching me.
On second thought…
I sit back down and mimic Caleb, leaning back and crossing my arms.
“Actually, Coach, maybe I can wait for my good friend Caleb here so we
can head back together.”
Caleb’s grin falters, and he stares at me in surprise.
Mood. I’m shocked, too.
A startled laugh escapes Coach. I don’t think he’s familiar with this petty
side of mine. He says, “Okay. Seems fair.”
“What the fuck?” Caleb mouths at me.
I shrug.
“I only wanted to ask how you’ve been adjusting to your new school,”
Coach tells Caleb. “How are your classes? Have you been making friends?”
Caleb grimaces and his face turns a fascinating shade of red. I lift my
eyebrows at him and smile, urging him on.
“I’m not a kid,” he mumbles.
Coach gives him a look. “You’re my nephew and I told your mom I’d
look after you. This wouldn’t bother you if Sandoval weren’t here, but you
brought this on yourself.”
My smile grows and I tilt my head at him.
“Now, answer me. How are things? Are training hours too much for your
schedule?”
 “No, everything’s cool.” Caleb’s voice is low and awkward, and I can tell
this is a humbling experience for him, letting a guy he hates listen in on his
dear uncle checking up on him. “I actually got a part-time job at the coffee
shop just outside campus.”
A ball lodges in my throat at the reminder that he’s working where Jessie
is, though he’s never brought her up.
“You’re not overworking yourself? Have you been eating well?”
“Yes.”
“Have you gone through McAvoy’s development plan for you?”
Caleb’s tone turns impatient. “Yeees.”
“Who’s McAvoy?” I interrupt.
When Caleb only glowers at me, Coach’s shoulder shakes with the effort
it takes him not to laugh. “He’s Buffalo’s development coach, and he helps
prospects like Caleb get ready for the NHL. Caleb here is most likely NHL-
bound after this year’s over.”
I perk up. “Oh, right! The Jets drafted you!”
“Yes,” Caleb says dryly.
Coach smiles and I’m pretty sure he’s still fighting back a laugh when his
gaze flickers to me. “Hmm… and how are you two getting along? Has
Sandoval been helping you out around campus?”
“No?”
“I offered,” I speak up. “But he said I gave off the vibes of a serial killer.”
It’s a low blow I’m snitching to Coach, but whatever. Apparently, he’s
successfully brought out all the pettiness in me.
“Caleb,” Coach hisses.
“I didn’t say that.” Caleb kicks my shin, and I let out a surprised laugh. It
doesn’t hurt, but it’s funny to see him lose his cool.
“You definitely said that,” I counter
“I used the word murderer, actually.”
This guy.
Coach rolls his eyes. “Just… leave. Both of you. And let me know if you
need anything, Caleb.”
“Yeah. Of course.” Caleb’s attention snaps to me again, and I deepen my
smile. His jaw clenches. Caleb gets up and I follow his lead, trying not to
burst out laughing at the way he’s balling his fists.
“Oh, and,” Coach says, just as we’re almost out the door. “Penny? She’s
happy you moved closer to home?”
 I turn my head just in time to see the strange shift in Caleb’s expression.
His gaze falls to the ground, and he looks… sad? “Yes,” he says. “I’ll tell
her you asked about her.”
Caleb exchanges a few more words with Coach and I wait for him in the
hallway. When he finally turns to leave, he makes a face when he sees me
still standing there. I expect him to say something snarky, like tell me I
don’t need to be a creep and wait for him, but he only huffs under his breath
and walks past me.
Pleasant, as ever.
I was going to walk back to campus, but I might as well try my luck. “I
rode here with Rhys, but he should already be gone. Can I catch a ride with
you?”
“Whatever,” he grumbles.
I follow him to his car, and we don’t talk the entire ride back to our dorm.
This guy’s mood swings are out of this world, and I’d rather not get into it,
so I don’t say a thing.
When we get to our room, he gets into the shower right away, and I plop
down on my bed and take my shirt off. Ugh. I’m all sticky and disgusting
all over, and I only hope Caleb won’t take one of his absurdly long showers
to piss me off.
Seriously though, who’s Penny? It really is none of my business, but his
reaction niggles at my mind. A… girlfriend, maybe? But why would he be
so touchy about it?
My stomach rumbles and I pull out my phone. Pizza sounds good. I’m
too wiped out to head to the cafeteria.
Caleb gets out of the shower, and I instinctively look up, only to face
away immediately. He has a towel around his neck and is shirtless, his
sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
Not sure why him walking around practically naked surprises me, as if I
don’t share a locker room with an entire hockey team.
His voice startles me. “So you’re turning down going pro to work in an
office?”
“Uh? Yeah?” I look up and a single droplet makes its way down his torso.
It’s distracting. I’ve seen him shirtless in the locker room before—not that I
make it a habit to stare—and he removes his piercings during practice. He
put them back in now though, the silver barbells on his chest catching my
attention.
 “Eyes up here,” he mumbles.
My face heats and I look away instead. “Sorry.”
“So. Turning down going pro. Who does that? What does your dad even
do?” Before I can actually answer him, though, he grabs his phone. “Don’t
bother telling me. I’ll Google it.”
I bite down the urge to tell him to put a shirt on.
Caleb whistles. “Sandoval Enterprises? Wooow, fancy. Your family owns
one of the biggest construction companies in the state of New York, huh?
Oh, and he’s philanthropist, too?”
Shrugging, I ignore his questions. “Do you want to share a pizza?”
“Look, here’s a photo of your family. Nice suit, Nicky. You clean up well,
huh? You look kind of like your dad, but nothing like your mom.”
She’s not my mom. “Pepperoni good?”
“So you’re the heir to a massive conglomerate, and that’s why you have
to give up hockey after you graduate? What a good son.”
Ignore him, ignore him.
“No wonder you’re such a prim and proper golden boy who can’t be
bothered with us peasants.”
“What are you talking about?” So much for ignoring him.
Caleb grins. “I said what I said.”
“Okay. Whatever. Pepperoni?”
“Yeah. Your treat, considering you’re apparently loaded.”
“Fine,” I say, not in the mood to even argue about it. Then, before I can
stop myself, I ask, “Who’s Penny?”
His expression hardens. “What do you care?”
“Thought we were sharing is all. You literally stalked me on Google.”
“Huh.” He pauses, blinking. “Okay. Fair. Penny’s my little sister.”
“Oh.” I let out a small laugh and go back to ordering a pizza.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“I hate that word.”
When I look up at him, of course he’s still half-dressed. It catches me
completely off-guard when he puts a hand on his hip and his sweatpants slip
down even more, revealing his V-line. Caleb continues to stare at me,
waiting for me to explain myself, so I cave and say, “I thought she was your
girlfriend.”
“Never had a girlfriend, never will.”
 “Because of your pleasant personality?”
He grins. “Wow, feisty. Actually, it’s because I’m gay as fuck.”
Uh?
I stare at him blankly.
“What?” he asks. “You have an issue with that?”
“Of course not. Sorry. I just didn’t realize. No issue.”
“You straight?”
The question makes my face burn again, and I hunch over my phone,
hoping he can’t see me blushing. “Yes.”
“Funny, considering you’ve been checking me out for the past three
minutes.”
I choke in surprise. “I’m not checking you out!”
“Keep saying that,” he says, cackling as he turns away.

OceanofPDF.com
 6

Caleb

September

E ven if Stella Café’s probably the most popular coffee shop near campus,
working here’s pretty chill. The manager doesn’t micromanage us and
doesn’t really care if we’re running late. If anyone has to miss a shift, the
other baristas often offer to cover for them. Yeah, the lines are long and the
shop’s usually filled to the brim, but the people here are great.
I work four times a week on the evening shift and picked up shit quickly.
I’m brilliant like that.
The girl I share a shift with, Jessie, is a student athlete like me—track, I
think. She’s hilarious, fun, gets along well with the customers, and has a
cute smile. I’d probably be into her if I were… well, into girls.
Annoyingly, I wonder if I were into girls, would I be suffering from such
a dumb dry spell? Few guys on Flair, my hookup app, catch my interest,
and on the handful of times I’ve matched with someone, our conversations
fell flat. I don’t really feel like meeting up with just anyone, if even just
chatting with them bores me the fuck out.
The most amusing match I’ve made so far was Schultz, and the only
reason I swiped right was because I recognized the tattoo on his hip. He
swiped right on me too, and the first thing I messaged was, “It’s Caleb.
Don’t hit on me, just recognized your ugly ass tattoo is all.”
He replied with, “Likewise, bitch. I recognized your ugly ass piercings.”
Fuck him. My piercings are hot.
Schultz isn’t my type, though I like how he’s not apologetic about
himself. He wants what he wants, and when I joked about him being a
fuckboy, he didn’t even deny it—just said that I was bitter because I
couldn’t find anyone to hook up with.
And he’s right.
As much as I want to get laid, my pickiness is my downfall.
Yeah, I don’t mind casual hookups, which is what almost everyone on
this app is looking for—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to subject myself
to people with no personalities.
I already get enough of that from my amazing roommate.
Who, by the way… totally not as straight as he thinks he is. I’ve caught
him staring at me more than once. That guy confuses me so much. He’s the
hardest person to get a read on, and I’m not even sure why that bugs me.
“I know that sound,” Jessie says with a laugh, waggling her eyebrows at
me. She stops on the other side of the counter, mop in hand. We’re currently
closing, and I’d love to get out of here soon, though at least the company
isn’t so bad. “That’s a notification from Flair, the queer dating app, right?
My roommate uses it, too.”
“People actually use this for dating?”
“Fine, let’s call it what it is. It’s a hookup app.” Jessie laughs again,
flicking her blonde hair behind hear ear. Cocking her head, she asks,
“What’s your type?”
“Cute guys.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Ohhh. Shit, and I was about to ask you out.”
“We wouldn’t work out, anyway. You have horrible taste in music.”
She sticks her tongue out at me, and I smile at her—an actual, genuine
smile. One that I rarely hand out.
Jessie and I continue to clean up, though I break the silence after a while
and say, “You seem cool. I didn’t think you’d be single.”
“That’s sweet of you,” she says, voice suddenly soft. “I had a boyfriend,
but he dumped me a few weeks ago.”
“He’s a dumbass, then. Why?”
 “I don’t know. He just texted and said it was over, then ghosted me. No
explanation or anything, as if we haven’t been together for an entire year.”
That makes me scowl. “What the hell?”
She nods at me, her face solemn. Jessie’s expression breaks my heart.
Whoever this guy is, he certainly did a number on her.
Once we’re done cleaning up, we grab our bags, shut off all the lights,
and head out.
“Where do you stay?” I ask. “I’ll walk you back.”
“I’m heading to the library. Need to work on some stuff first.”
“It’s nine p.m.!”
She whistles. “The life of a student athlete.”
“True. It’s fine, I’ll walk you to the library. It’s on the way to my dorm,
anyway.”
We chat about her classes as we walk. She also invites me to a party that
weekend, saying that I’d have a better chance of meeting someone there
instead of on an app. She makes a good point, and I’m just about to ask her
for the details when I see a familiar figure walking in our direction.
In a team jacket and with his dark hair falling over his eyes, Nick’s got
his full attention on his phone and hasn’t noticed me.
“Hey, Nicky!” I call out. Beside me, Jessie stops in her tracks. Nick looks
up and blinks at me, then his gaze darts to Jessie, and he immediately
flushes.
Huh.
“You know each other?” I ask, glancing between them.
Jessie sucks in a breath and recomposes herself, then she strides up to
Nick. Confused, I walk up beside her, watching how Nick shoves his hands
in his pockets and gives her one of his aggravatingly forced smiles.
“Are you still ignoring me?” Jessie asks, though her voice isn’t angry. It
just seems hurt.
Nick’s eyebrows clash together, and he shakes his head. “I’m not
avoiding you.”
“You literally ghosted me, Nick. You won’t answer any of my calls. Even
the guys at the café say you only come over when I’m not on my shift. I
haven’t gone to your dorm because I wanted to give you your space, but
this is ridiculous. You at least owe me an explanation.”
Oh.
Ohhhhh.
 It all finally clicks in my head.
Nick’s the guy who ghosted Jessie after a year of dating.
Well, how about that?
As if remembering that I’m here, Nick glances at me and grimaces. “I
don’t want to talk right now, Jessie.”
“Why? Because Caleb’s here?”
I cock my head. Okay, I should go—and I’m just about to do that when
Nick says, plainly, “I don’t want to talk at all.”
Whoa. The only reason I don’t call him feisty again is because of how
Jessie’s face falls.
“All right, this has been great, but I’m going to go now.” I give them both
a grin and get the hell out of there.

***

I make it back to the dorm in record time, changing into something much
more comfortable and crashing into my bed. I wonder if Nick and Jessie
actually ended up talking? Not that it’s any of my business.
Why would he ghost Jessie like that, though? She’s amazing. I’ve never
been into girls, but if I were, I think I’d ask Jessie out.
The look on Nick’s face when he told her he didn’t want to talk… I don’t
think I’ve ever seen that on him before. The smile he had disappeared in
half a second as if he couldn’t keep up with the act, and his jaw clenched
tightly, and his eyes were the coldest I’ve ever seen.
I might have made it my life’s mission to get on his nerves, and on the
few times his actual personality slips through, it feels like whiplash. I don’t
know what happened between him and Jessie and why he ghosted her, but I
saw it again—that moment where the real him surfaced.
The quiet anger in his expression was… okay, it was hot. The fuck is
wrong with me? I replay the image in my head and my damn dick twitches
because it’s a traitor and has a mind of its own. Getting turned on by my
teammate slash roommate who I can’t stand? A terrible fucking idea.
Scowling, I take my phone out and doomscroll through my hookup app. I
so badly need to get laid.
The door opens and Nick, my living nightmare, comes in. I bend a knee
and cross my leg over it, not really fascinated with the idea of him seeing
my semi. Nick spares me a quick glance as he takes his jacket off and hangs
it over his chair.
It hasn’t even been ten minutes since I left him with Jessie, and because I
have no fucking self-restraint, I quip, “I’m guessing you two didn’t actually
talk?”
He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please stop.”
“I literally can’t because you’re making my brain hurt. She’s really sweet
and I can’t tell why you’d ghost her for no reason.”
He ignores me.
“I can’t figure you out at all,” I mutter.
“Why do you need to?”
“Because you’ve got everything and you don’t care. Money, but you’re
staying in this cramped dorm instead of renting a place somewhere. The
option to go to the NHL, but you don’t care about that. An amazing
girlfriend, but you dumped her for no apparent reason. You’re a fucking
conundrum.”
Then there’s me—who has to get a part-time job, whose stats aren’t as
good as his despite getting drafted by the Buffalo Jets, and who can’t even
get a decent lay.
“I’m leaving,” he blurts. His jaw ticks, and I realize he’s trying to hold his
reaction in again, making my eyebrows shoot up.
“Did I offend you?” I ask mockingly.
“Nah.” He flashes me a smile, and I resist the urge to lunge at him.
Gritting my teeth, I swing my legs over the bed and stand, thankful that
my semi’s all gone. All it needed to disappear was to have a conversation
with the most infuriating person to ever exist.
Who, ironically, was the reason for the semi to begin with.
I hiss, “I told you to stop smiling at me like that.”
“Like this?” he asks, pointing at his mouth. He deepens his smile.
Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him.
“God, fuck off,” I grumble. His stupid smile wavers for a fraction and his
jaw ticks. “Just go. I get it, golden boy. Nobody’s good enough for you, not
even Jessie. You’re a mess. You strung her along for fun and then decided
she’s not good enough for you—”
He suddenly closes the space between us and reaches for me, and it’s so
sudden and unlike him, I don’t even have the time to react. Nick wraps long
fingers around my throat and squeezes it, his eyes hardening.
 Show me the real you, golden boy. I can’t help but smirk. Jesus, I need
help.
“She cheated on me,” he grits out. His thumb bears down on my pulse
and my stupid dick twitches. The hold he has on me isn’t tight enough to
choke me or even to hurt me, simply steady and firm. “I was going to
surprise her at a party, and I found her on someone’s lap, tongue-fucking
him.”
My shoulders drop. “Oh.”
For a long moment, we only stand there—with him gripping my throat,
and me staring blankly at him.
And when reality seems to hit him, Nick winces.
He drops his hand and flushes. “Sorry. Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know what
got into me.”
No idea why he’s apologizing, because anyone else would have done way
worse to me by now. Still stunned and honestly a lot turned on, I hold my
throat and let my hand linger where he touched me.
“She cheated on you,” I repeat dryly.
“Yes. A few weeks ago. I texted her and broke it off then.”
“Why doesn’t she know why you broke it off?”
“Who knows? Maybe she doesn’t know I saw her.”
God, he’s giving me a headache. “So tell her.”
Nick, who apparently forgot he was leaving, exhales and plops down on
the edge of his bed. He scrubs a hand over his face and says, “Why’s it on
me to tell her she cheated on me? Besides, what’s the point? I don’t want to
talk to her. If she…” His voice trails off.
“What?”
“If she apologized and asked to get back together, I’d probably say yes,
which is a bad idea.”
“Of course it’s a bad idea. Why would you even want to forgive her for
that? Cheating’s despicable.” I give him a look of disbelief. “You can’t
possibly be thinking of forgiving her.”
“Even if I don’t get back together with her, is what she did really that
despicable? She was drunk, and she made a mistake—”
“Holy fuck, stop defending her.”
Nick’s eyes glaze over, and he stares at the floor for a long time.
“Nick,” I say. “What she did was not okay. Nothing good comes out of
cheating and you need to know that. Do not get back together with her.”
 “I won’t. Don’t worry.”
I sit on my bed as well, grabbing a pillow and dragging it over my lap to
hide my boner. I don’t know how to feel about the fact that we’re having an
actual conversation. Even if I was the one who pushed for it.
“Huh. That explains quite a bit, I guess,” I say after a long silence.
He huffs a smile, and strangely, it doesn’t irritate me. It doesn’t look like
he’s forcing it this time around. “I know. I’m pathetic. You happy now? I’m
sorry I choked you.”
“Barely felt it,” I lie. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”
Nick snorts and shakes his head. “You’re insane.”
I definitely am, as proven by my traitorous dick. I decide feelings time—
which I enforced, thank me very much—is over. My phone buzzes and I
take it out, and my hookup app says I matched with someone.
Hopefully, it’s not another dud, and I send him a quick message.
Nick’s moving around a lot as if he’s restless, and I eye him when he
opens his desk drawer and pulls out a Switch.
Cool.
“You have Mario Party?” I ask.
He looks around the room as if I could possibly be asking anyone else.
Then he settles those big, surprised eyes on me. “Yeah. You want to play?”
“Yeah.”
His face splits into a wide grin, which catches me completely off-guard.
Nick seems way too excited when he sets up the Switch for a multiplayer
game, as if he’s never played with another human being in his life.
What a dork. It’s kind of cute, though.
Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.

OceanofPDF.com
 7

Nick

C aleb’s been a lot less antagonistic since that night I lost my temper and
told him about Jessie. Honestly, I still don’t know why I put my hands
on him like that. It was so unlike me—and he seemed just as stunned as I
was.
Note to self: Next time I want Caleb to shut up, all I need to do is grip his
throat.
Maybe I should tell Rhys for the next time they butt heads during practice
—though the idea of anyone else being privy to that information somehow
annoys me.
But, yeah, I think we’re getting somewhere. He must have felt guilty for
the things he said because he’s been coming back with sweets from the
café. Caleb doesn’t even say anything when he gives them to me, just
throws them at me without a word.
It’s weird, but also… kind of endearing? Maybe I’m delusional, but I
think the guy’s warming up to me.
He’s warming up with the rest of the team, too. Caleb’s still irritating as
ever, throwing the most immature taunts at everyone, though I think we’ve
all figured out that he just likes to mess with people for fun. It’s nothing
personal.
Like right now, he’s across the locker room, arguing with Schultz about
something. I can’t tell what they’re talking about, but Schultz slaps him
with a towel and Caleb makes a move to kick him—before Schultz runs off
to the showers.
I don’t even realize I’m staring until Caleb catches my eye, and I look
away before he calls me creepy again.
My phone beeps and I use it as an excuse to look busy, surprised to see a
message from Dad.
Dad: You busy? We’re in the city. Thought we’d stop by.
Me: Practice just ended. Where do you want to meet?
Dad: Dianne wants to go to Stella’s.
Fuck.
I haven’t told Dad and Dianne—my stepmom—that Jessie and I have
broken up. They probably want to head there because they adore her, and
just the thought of it makes my stomach churn.
Me: Why don’t we go somewhere for dinner instead?
Dad: We can’t stay long. Let’s have a quick coffee at Stella’s. We just
pulled up.
Me: There’s another café down the street that I think you’d like.
Dad: But we want to see if Jessie’s around. What’s your ETA?
Me: Dad, let’s go somewhere else.
I curse. This can’t be fucking happening. Swallowing, I’m in the middle
of typing that Jessie and I have broken up when another message comes
through.
Dad: We’ve already ordered and are seated, Nicholas. What’s gotten
into you?
Oh, my fucking god.
“Caleb,” I blurt out just as he’s passing by. He’s dressed down in his
compression shorts and he turns to me, and his abs momentarily distract me
as if I haven’t seen them before. The guy’s built like a rock.
“What?” he asks, and my eyes snap to his.
“Um. Is Jessie at the café?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Shit!” When more heads turn to me, my cheeks flare. “Sorry.”
Rhys’s head pops out from behind his stall. “Nick, what’s going on?”
“I gotta go. My parents are at Stella’s.” I know that’s enough to explain
why I’m freaking out, and I grab my things. After the quickest shower ever,
I rush towards my car.
 I could just tell Dad that Jessie and I have broken up, but they’ve already
ordered. The only thing I can hope for is that Jessie’s in the back or missing
her shift, even if I know that’s unlikely.
And I’m right—the moment I step inside the café, Jessie’s manning the
counter. Her eyes meet mine and her expression hardens as she tilts her
head towards the back most corner where Dad and Dianne are.
“Sorry,” I mouth at her, and I drag my feet over to my parents.
Dianne spots me first, holding Dad’s shoulder to get his attention. Her
perfectly manicured red fingernails are a stark contrast against Dad’s white
button-up, and he turns to me with a smile.
“Hello,” I tell them, taking a seat across from them in the booth. They
both have coffees. “Sorry it took a while. Practice just ended.”
“That’s fine,” Dad says. “Go order a coffee. Jessie’s at the counter.”
“Ah, no. It’s all right. I’m good.”
I haven’t seen them since classes started. They only live an hour away,
but they’re always so busy with work and with many events that I prefer to
stay on campus on weekends rather than going home to an empty, quiet
penthouse.
Dad focuses all his attention on me as he asks about my classes and
practice. Even if he never comes to my games, he’s still a doting dad in his
own way. He’s also very interested in my grades even if it’s only the start of
the sem and gives me a proud smile when I tell him I’m set to graduate by
this year.
“I should set you up with an internship with one of our offices before you
graduate,” he says. “So you get a hang of things.”
“He still has hockey,” Dianne reminds him.
“Oh. That’s right.” Dad eyes me. “Well, that’s fine. It’s not like an
internship or a full-time job won’t be waiting for you as soon as you’re
done with your degree.”
I nod. It’s true that everything’s being handed to me on a silver platter,
but I’d never tell Dad I wasn’t keen for his plans for me. That would be
downright ungrateful.
“I think Jessie’s going on a break.” Dianne gives a slight wave to Jessie,
who’s circling around the counter and taking her apron off. Caleb’s behind
the counter now, taking over for Jessie. I avoid Jessie’s stare, and my gaze
automatically lands on Caleb’s, who lifts his eyebrows at me.
Even across the room, I can feel the intensity of his stare.
 “Jessie, honey,” Dianne says, voice loud enough to carry over the chatter
of the café. “Come join us.”
Jessie’s eyebrows clash together, and she slowly comes over to us.
Fuck. I screwed up.
What was I doing, thinking this wouldn’t happen?
I turn to Dad and Dianne. “We broke up,” I blurt out.
Both their jaws drop.
“Hello.” Jessie steps up to us, forcing a smile. “So nice to see you again. I
won’t be joining you because, um…” Jessie meets my eyes, and she chews
on her cheeks. “I…”
Dad clears his throat. “Yes, Nicholas just… told us why.” His voice turns
tense when he adds, “I wish you told us earlier, son.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s nice seeing you, dear,” Dianne says, and Jessie gives her another
forced smile before turning away. She heads to the backroom, her ears and
cheeks flaring.
“I was going to tell you,” I say, staring hard at the table. I don’t enjoy
disappointing them. It makes my stomach twist, and shame courses through
my veins.
Dad says, “That’s why you wanted to go somewhere else.”
“Yes, but. Um. You said you were already seated, and. Uh.”
“You broke up recently?” Dianne interrupts.
“A month ago.”
Dad lets out an exasperated sigh, and the shame in me only intensifies.
“Nicholas, you could have told us so much sooner to save us that
embarrassing encounter. Honestly.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Dianne says. As always, she plays the mediator between Dad
and I. Maybe she can tell how much his disapproval gets to me. “I adored
Jessie, though. Are you sure it’s not something you two could fix? You were
supposed to bring her along to the ribbon cutting at the new clinic and
introduce her to everyone.”
“No,” I murmur, and it’s only then I realize I’m clenching my hands tight
against my knees. “Um. No, sorry. It’ll only be me.”
“Oh. Well, no worries.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine, Nicholas,” she says gently.
 Is it, though?
I’ve always made it a point to keep my head down and not cause Dad and
Dianne any trouble. They’re both so lenient with me despite our… history.
Honestly, I don’t even know how Dianne can stand to be this calm with me.
If I were in her shoes, considering who I am and how I came to this world,
I’d hate to see the boy that her husband had with someone else.
I’m not even supposed to be their problem.
And, not for the first time, I think of Mom and how it would have been so
much easier if she were still here. I probably wouldn’t have hesitated to tell
her about Jessie, unlike how difficult it was to tell Dad and Dianne.
“Nicholas.” Dad sighs. “Sit up properly, please. Stop slouching.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. You know how I don’t care about that habit of yours.”
I hear it for what it is—grow a spine.
God, I’m going to throw up. I clench my hands against my knees again
and hang my head low, even if Dad told me to sit up.
“Hi!” Caleb’s voice suddenly jolts me out of my spiraling thoughts. He
shoves me further inside the booth and a surprised sound escapes me.
He’s still wearing his apron and when I glance at the counter, there’s
nobody manning it. I don’t think he’s on a break.
Grinning wide, Caleb says, “I’m Caleb Jennings, Nicky’s new roommate.
I’m on the hockey team, too.”
“Nicky?” Dianne repeats.
Dad gives him a practiced smile—which I know for a fact Caleb hates.
He looks between me and Caleb and nods. “Nice to meet you, Caleb.
Nicholas hasn’t mentioned you, though I recognize you.”
Caleb sounds surprised. “You do?”
What the heck is he doing? I stare at Caleb, feeling out of my element.
The guy ignores the baffled look I’m sending his way.
At least he shook me out of my spiraling, though.
“I recognize you from Nicholas’ matches,” Dad says, as if it’s the most
obvious thing ever. “You used to play for Michigan, right?”
Caleb blinks at him. “Yes, sir. Wow, Nick, your dad’s memory is
incredible.”
I—yeah, Caleb’s right. Dad’s always been sharp and amazing with names
and faces. But… that’s not what surprises me right now. I ask Dad in
disbelief, “You’ve watched one of my games?”
 “I watch most of your games, as long as I’m free.”
Dianne puts a hand over her mouth and laughs. “You should see how
passionate he gets. When you got injured last year, he asked me if it would
be possible to get his legal team to sue the boy who hurt you.”
What? I didn’t—I didn’t know this. At all.
All this time, I had the impression that Dad didn’t bother with my love
for hockey aside from paying for it and asking about it occasionally.
Caleb reaches over and places a finger under my chin, snapping my jaw
shut. He scoffs and says, “How can you not know your dad watches your
games?” Then he turns back to Dad. “You know you can watch him live,
right? The season’s starting soon and everyone on the team has
complimentary tickets to give out to family and friends.”
Dad laughs. “Well, Nicholas has never invited me to a game, so I
assumed he wouldn’t want me there.”
“No!” I blurt out. Dad cocks his head at me, and even both Dianne and
Caleb seem stunned at my outburst. I clear my throat and say, “It’s not that.
I’ve never invited you because I didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Do you want me to watch your games?”
Instinctively, I want to tell him I know he’s too busy, and he doesn’t need
to bother. It’s enough that he lets me play, and I’m grateful for it. But…
Caleb’s looking at me so intently, as if daring me to tell the obvious truth.
“Yes,” I murmur. “I’d like that. If you’d come to my games, I mean. Just
when you’re not caught up with anything else, and if it’s not too much of a
hassle for you.”
“Then I will,” Dad says, and I can’t help but smile.
I’m hit with the realization that this conversation would never have
happened if Caleb didn’t insert himself the way he did. I space out, vaguely
aware of how Caleb’s making small talk with my parents. When I notice
Dianne watching me, I stand up straighter and listen in on their
conversation. Dad’s telling Caleb about how they’re working on the new
clinic for the children’s hospital, and how they’ll be back for the ribbon
cutting. Caleb must have asked them why they’re in town.
“Oh, yeah,” Caleb says. “I saw them working on it last weekend.”
That gets my attention. “Why were you at the children’s hospital?”
“I was visiting someone.” Caleb doesn’t explain more and quickly adds,
“Nicky, if you’re going to the ribbon cutting, check out the hospital’s
garden. It’s really pretty. You can mope around there in that way you do.”
 “I don’t mope around.”
He snickers.
“We actually built that garden as well,” Dad says, and I can see the pride
in his eyes.
“Really? I love the place!” Caleb sounds excited by this revelation, and I
can’t help but smile.
After some more small talk, Caleb turns to me. He studies me and then
grins, and I wonder what he sees—all I know is that I’m much more at ease
compared to a few minutes ago.
“I need to go,” Caleb says, sliding out of the booth. “I only wanted to say
hi, but I’m not actually on break. Better go before my manager gets back.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Dad says. I think he means it.
“You too, sir, ma’am!”
When he’s gone, Dianne smiles warmly. “He’s a nice boy. Caleb, right?”
Nice boy and Caleb aren’t words I’d usually put together, and I’m still not
sure what that was about, but that was a side of Caleb I can definitely get
used to.

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 8

Caleb

W hatever possessed me to interrupt Nick’s family time, I’m glad I did it.
I could see him having a quiet meltdown from across the café, and it
got to me.
Why? Who the fuck knows.
All I know is that he somehow snapped out of it when I invited myself
into their cute little family gathering.
I don’t get why he’s never brought his dad to his games, or why his dad
never mentioned to him he watches them. They’re an odd family. Probably
the type who keep their thoughts to themselves, despite the perfect images
they project.
Looking at Nick’s dad, I can see where he gets his prim and proper image
from. His mom seems a bit more laid-back, though she looks nothing like
Nick—she’s a petite woman with platinum blonde hair, and her gray eyes
are nothing like Nick’s dark brown ones.
I can’t help but watch them from behind the counter, strangely relieved
that they’re a lot more relaxed now. I can’t understand their conversation,
but Nick’s smiling widely, gesturing animatedly, while his dad nods over
his coffee.
Jessie appears beside me, whispering, “I can’t believe he didn’t tell them
we broke up. What was I expecting, though? He won’t even talk to me
about it.”
 Jessie’s great. I adore her, and I’m glad I made a friend like her at work.
Now that I know why Nick broke up with her, though, her words make my
jaw twitch. I give her a slight shrug as I grab a slice of cake for a customer.
She continues ranting, somehow under the idea that I want to hear all this.
“He’s always been so… passive. I’m so over the nice guy act. He’s not even
that nice, he simply doesn’t care.”
She lets out a quiet sniff and wipes her sleeve against her eyes.
“I just don’t understand. We had a good thing going. Why would he
throw that away? Nobody will ever love him the way I do.”
My jaw twitches again. “And thank god for that, I guess.”
Uh.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Jessie gapes at me. “Do… do you know something I don’t? Why did Nick
ghost me?”
“I don’t know, Jessie. Do you think you making out with another guy had
something to do with it?”
Goddamn it. This entire thing is so irritating that my brain-to-mouth filter
is completely malfunctioning.
Jessie pales and she covers her gasp with a hand, her eyes going even
more comically wide. “He knows about that? Who told him?”
“He saw.”
“He saw!?”
Her eyes get all watery again and her lower lip quivers. And I don’t know
what to do because I’m not really all that equipped to deal with crying girls.
Or girls at all, for that matter.
Nick and his parents get up and make for the door, and Nick glances over
at us and gives me a weak smile. For some odd reason, I smile back, even if
it’s really more of a grimace than anything else—because his ex is on the
verge of crying.
Which he can’t see, because he’s not even looking her way.
“I’m going to go talk to him,” she whispers. “Caleb, cover for me a for a
bit.”
“Ah? No. Jessie, don’t. Horrible idea.”
She’s already circling around the counter. “I won’t take long.”
Nick’s going to kill me. I’ve finally done it—this is what’s going to push
him over the edge and make him choke me, and on purpose this time.
 Okay, but. Nick choking me…
Focus.
Through the window, I watch as Jessie runs up to Nick’s family. She says
something to Nick’s parents that has them smiling, then they wave at Nick
and leave him behind with her.
Nick and Jessie talk right outside, with Nick staring at her blankly as she
goes on and on. She still looks as if she’s on the verge of crying but holds
back as she tells Nick whatever it is she wants to say.
I think she’s… apologizing? I can’t tell, though Nick listens to her, not
once interrupting her.
Then he smiles, reaches out as if he’s about to hug her, then stops
himself. Nick drops his hand back to his side and says something to her.
She nods along, and soon enough, they go separate ways.
Just like that.
I’m left there wondering why the hell I just watched an entire
conversation I can’t even hear, and why I was strangely invested in seeing
how it would play out.

***

Nick doesn’t scare me.

Yet as I make my way back to our dorm, I’m dreading seeing him. Must
be why I sniped a bag of cookies from the café. My plan is to throw it at
him right as I see him. He always lights up each time I bring back
something from the café, and I’m hoping that this time around, it’s enough
for him not to get in my case about accidentally spilling to Jessie.
I open the door to our dorm and Nick’s sitting by his desk, a book laid
open in front of him. He looks over his shoulder at me. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I toss the bag of cookies at him, which he catches with amazing
reflexes. Nick swivels his chair around, beaming, and happily opens the
bag. He practically inhales a cookie. His sweet tooth is on another level.
He’s not angry. I think?
I eye him as if he could pounce any minute—but he only sits there, way
too excited that I handed him sweets, popping another cookie into his
mouth.
“Um,” I say carefully, because I might as well bring it up myself rather
than get stabbed in my sleep. “You and Jessie. You’re okay now?”
 “I suppose.”
I plop down on the edge of my bed and wait for him to say more. When
it’s clear that’s all he had to share, I lift my eyebrows at him. “What did she
say?”
Nick clears his throat. “She apologized and said she was drunk, upset that
I wasn’t there, and didn’t know what she was doing. Said it never happened
before, and that she didn’t realize I knew about it. She thought I ghosted her
for no reason.”
“Did she, um.” I clear my throat as well. “Did she ask to get back
together with you?”
“No.”
Well. Okay, then.
I’m still not sure why I was so invested, but at least that’s over now. Nick
puts the bag of cookies away and I get up to change out of my clothes,
conscious of the way he tracks my movements.
“Have you had dinner?” he asks.
“Yeah, I ate at the café.”
“Got it.”
His disappointed tone makes me halt. I stare at him, my fingers frozen
over the button of my jeans. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“I fucking swear to god, Nick, I told you to quit saying—”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to go get something to eat.”
“Ah.” My hands drop to my side, and I look at him, baffled. “You haven’t
eaten? It’s almost ten.”
“There’s this Mexican food truck a couple of blocks away that I wanted
to go to that’s open until late.” Nick huffs out a laugh and rubs the back of
his neck. “I was waiting for you in case you haven’t eaten.”
“Why didn’t you text me and ask?”
“I don’t know your number.”
“You’re kidding, right? It’s in the e-mail from the dorm—” I cut myself
off and take a deep breath, asking the universe to give me patience. “All
right. Let’s go.”
“But you’ve already eaten.”
“Hurry.” I grab my jacket and pull it back on. “Are we walking?”
His face lights up. “We can take my car.”
 He’s parked a few minutes away, and his car’s an unassuming tiny Ford
Fiesta. Not exactly the type of car that I’d expect from the son of a
millionaire. Nick looks like a fucking giant in the tiny car, and I’m pretty
sure I look just as ridiculous.
He drives us a few blocks away from campus and stops at a public
parking, then he leads the way to an orange and green food truck. It must be
a popular truck because there’s a bunch of people around, mostly people our
age. We join the line, and I watch the wide smile that Nick wears as he
looks over the menu board.
“Your treat,” I tell him, because I didn’t bother to bring my wallet.
Besides, he’s loaded. “I don’t know what’s good, so get me whatever you’re
getting.”
“Okay.”
Nick gets us both an order of burrito bowls, and I watch him put an
obscene amount of spicy sauce on his. When he catches me looking, Nick
smiles sheepishly, and then digs in. It’s a pretty heavy meal, especially at
this time of the night, and I wonder what my health nut uncle would say if
he saw us—especially since this was my second meal.
Watching Nick, I can’t help but admit that my impression of him has
slowly changed during the weeks we’ve known each other. Maybe he’s
more at ease with me, but his smiles don’t seem forced anymore—at least,
not so as much as before.
“Want to try?” he asks, dangling the bottle of sauce in my face. “It’s
really spicy, though. I’m not sure you can take it.”
“Is that a challenge? Put it in.”
“Not a challenge,” he says with a laugh.
“Doesn’t matter. Give it to me.”
He mumbles something about how weirdly competitive I am, which
makes me puff out my chest, because hell yeah. I enjoy winning. Besides,
he’s one to talk—the asshole threw a pillow at me last time we played
Mario Party, annoyed that I didn’t row hard enough and that the timer had
run out.
Nick squirts out some of the sauce on my bowl and I take a spoonful of
food, making sure I get the sauce, and shove it in my mouth.
“Holy shit.” I gasp, my mouth burning, and he snickers and passes me my
drink. I gulp it down in seconds. “Fuck you, actually.”
“Told you.”
 I wipe the sweat off my brow and glare at him, eating around the sauce in
my bowl.
“My mom used to make it even spicier,” he tells me, smiling. “I loved it
when she cooked for me.”
“She doesn’t cook for you anymore?”
He shakes his head. “She passed away when I was twelve.”
My eyebrows clash together, and I give him a look, urging him to explain
further.
“Earlier, that was my stepmom, Dianne. I used to live with my mom and
when she passed away, I moved in with Dad and Dianne.”
Well, this is a lot to take in. He must take my silence the wrong way
because he flushes.
Nick stammers, “S-sorry. That was a bit much.”
“Tell me more about your mom, Nicky.”
Nick stares at me as if I’d just asked him to jump off a cliff, all shocked
and wide-eyed. Then a smile spreads across his face, and he tells me about
all the kind of food that his mom used to cook for him. She was the type of
mom who would cook a dish every day of the week if Nick said he liked it.
He also tells me about how they’d cook together sometimes, and how
patient she was despite the messes he’d make.
He chatters endlessly that I have to remind him that his dinner’s still in
his hands, and then he laughs and digs in, still continuing to talk with his
mouth full.
The prim and proper boy forgets his manners when he’s excited,
apparently.
“Hey, Sandoval! Jennings!”
Both of us turn to see Vega and Walters walking up to us.
“I didn’t know you two hung out!” Walters says, putting his arm around
Nick.
Frowning, I want to tell him to let go of Nick, then realize that’s a bizarre
thing to say. The two of them chat with us, but mostly to Nick, and I keep
my mouth shut, pissed that they interrupted us. It was nice hearing Nick talk
about his mom. It almost gave him a personality.
Vega’s talking about a sorority party this weekend and is trying to
convince Nick to come, saying that it’s time that he meets some new girls.
Aaand that’s my cue to stop listening.
 My phone beeps and I use that as an excuse to turn away. After tossing
my empty bowl in the trash can, I whip my phone out and smirk when I see
I’ve got a new message from Dex—the guy I matched with a few days ago.
He’s asking if I want to meet up tomorrow. Tomorrow’s a Friday night
and this guy obviously wants to hookup—and he has an actual personality
and a hot body to go with it. Hooking up with him will probably make me
stop thinking of Nick wrapping his huge hand around my neck.
The memory of Nick doing that makes my dick harden, and I internally
curse myself. Dumbass dick of mine being into my straight roommate.
Then I overhear Walters tell Nick that he has a friend who’s asking for his
number, and even if Nick’s laughing awkwardly and makes up a flimsy
excuse about how he’s not a great texter, my dick deflates.
“Hey, Sandoval,” I say, once the other guys have left and we’re walking
back to his car.
He frowns and opens his mouth and then closes it again. Not sure what
that’s about, but I’m not in the mood to hear him say nothing again.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“You got plans tomorrow?” I need to make sure he’ll be out, because Dex
says his roommate will be at his place.
“Rhys and I are hanging out with his brother. You want to come?”
“Nah, was only curious.” I take my phone out again and send my room
number to Dex. I really hope he’ll help me get over my dry spell.
And help me stop fantasizing about my roommate.

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 9

Nick

U nknown number: What time will you be back?

Me: Who’s this?
Unknown number: Caleb.
Me: How’d you get my number?
Caleb: It was in that e-mail from the resident assistant when I moved
in.
Caleb: Helloooo? What time will you be back???
Me: Late. Still with Rhys and his brother. Why, you want to hang
out?
Caleb: Yes, Nicky, that’s exactly what I want to do.
I’d think he was serious, if not for rolling eyes emoji he tacks on the
message. I snort and Rhys catches it from where he’s in the open kitchen
pouring popcorn into a bowl. He cocks his head at me, and I shrug, putting
my phone away before he accuses me of seeing somebody new.
Nope, sorry, Rhys. That was actually my roommate whom you hate.
Rhys plops down on the couch between me and his brother, Archer. He
hands me a beer and grabs the remote, unpausing the action movie we were
watching.
Archer digs his hand in Rhys’s bowl, earning him a scowl from his
brother. Unperturbed, Archer says, “I heard you have a new roommate,
Nick.”
 “Yeah. Caleb. He’s also on the hockey team.”
“And he’s a dick,” Rhys says.
“He’s not bad.”
Rhys raises an eyebrow at me. “Are we talking about the same person?”
“Not everyone hates their roommate, Rhys,” Archer says. “Isaac is the
best.”
“Where is Isaac, anyway?” I ask. Archer’s roommate and best friend
usually enjoys staying in, but I haven’t seen him all night.
“Got dragged to a work thing.” Archer reaches for the bowl again.
Rhys yanks the bowl away from his brother, glaring at him. He had asked
Archer earlier if he wanted his own, but Archer said he didn’t want any. The
two of them are always bickering, which is maybe why Rhys chose to live
in the dorm over living with him. After he slaps Archer’s hand away, Rhys
says, “Caleb’s obnoxious, taunts everyone, and even said Nick was a fake-
ass golden boy.”
Archer wheezes, and Rhys smacks him on the knee.
“He really isn’t that bad, though,” I say. “We’re getting along better
lately. Actually, I think he wanted to hang out with me tonight.”
Caleb sounded sarcastic over text, but between him asking me last night
where I’d be and him checking up on me again just now, that’s the only
conclusion I can come up with.
“So why are you here?” Rhys asks. “I hope it’s not because I asked you
first. I’m a grown man. It wouldn’t have hurt my feelings.”
“You wouldn’t mind if I ditched you to go play Mario Party with my
roommate?”
“Kinda annoying because I hate the guy, but if that’s what you want to
do, then go.” Rhys shoves popcorn into his mouth and fixes his stare at the
screen. “I’d ask to come along, but I don’t want to be in a room with that
ass. Also, Mario Party’s stupid.”
Rhys isn’t in the habit of lying, so I can tell he’s serious—if I wanted to
go, he won’t care. Still, I give watching the movie a solid effort. It’s hard
though, because I hate action movies, and the people on the screen have
been fighting on a moving plane while it takes off the runway. For ten
minutes now. This is the longest runway ever.
“Yeah, I’m going,” I say, deciding I can’t deal with this movie any longer.
“Wait!” Rhys suddenly exclaims. “I forgot you were my ride.”
 “Relax, I’ll drive you back,” Archer tells him. “Let him hang out with his
roommate, and you can hang out with me and Isaac. He’ll be back soon.”
Rhys chews on his lip, his eyes narrowed. He shifts uncomfortably and
his brother glowers at him.
“Why are you always avoiding Isaac?” Archer asks in an accusing tone.
“I’m not.” Rhys flashes me a look that says, help me.
I nod at him and say, “Actually, Rhys, didn’t you say you had a paper due
—”
Archer cuts me off. “Enough, Nick. You’re a terrible liar. Rhys, spend
time with Isaac. I’m sick of you making up excuses to stay away from him.
He’s a great guy.”
“Fine,” Rhys says, sounding defeated, and I give him an apologetic smile.

***

When I get to our room, it’s dark. My first thought is that Caleb’s not
actually here, and my chest clenches in disappointment—what the hell’s
that about? Sighing, I’m about to switch the lights on when a slight
movement on Caleb’s bed startles me. I squint in the darkness, confused.
“Fuuuck,” says someone in a breathy and hoarse way, and I realize it’s
Caleb. The reality of what’s going on shocks me, and I back up
immediately, slamming loudly against the doorframe.
“Nick?” Caleb asks, baffled, and there’s the sound of blankets rustling
around.
Another unfamiliar voice says, “Who’s that?”
“My roommate.”
Two shadowy figures get up from Caleb’s bed.
Fuck.
“Sorry!” I squeak. “I’ll go. My bad. Sorry.”
“Nah, stay, this is your room. I can go,” the unfamiliar guy says. There’s
the sound of pants being zipped up and my face flares.
Caleb grumbles something under his breath and makes his way towards
me, and for a moment I think he’s going to punch me in the gut. Instead, he
switches the light on, and I’m met with the angriest glare I’ve ever seen on
him. Caleb glowers at me, his hair tousled and his mouth bruised, and I
don’t even want to think about what caused that. Even if it’s painfully
obvious.
 I’m just really, really relieved they both have their clothes on.
The guy he’s with grins at me from over Caleb’s shoulder. I think he’s a
senior who plays for the baseball team. First, Jessie cheats on me with a
baseball player, then I walk into Caleb hooking up with another one? That
quickly, I decide I hate baseball with a passion.
The guy laughs. “Don’t worry about it, dude. Shit happens. I’ll go.”
Still horrified, I step away from Caleb and duck towards my side of the
room. He tracks my movement, still glaring, and the guy approaches him.
They talk in quiet voices, and I pretend to be busy, rearranging my bed as if
it weren’t already perfectly arranged.
As soon as the guy leaves, Caleb rounds in on me. He shoves me back
and, feeling incredibly dumb, I let him.
“In my defense,” I mutter, “how was I supposed to know you were
hooking up with someone? We should have, like, a system or something.
Let me know to stay away.”
“I asked you what time you were coming back! Why else would I ask?
Small talk?”
Yeah, he did. I hang my head. “Sorry.”
Caleb seethes, and he jerks away from me. His hair falls over his face and
I have to fight down the weirdly uncontrollable urge to tuck it behind his
ear. I don’t like how he looks—with his messy hair and red cheeks. Not
because I think he looks bad, but because I can’t push away the thought of
him doing things. With someone. In our room.
I rub at my sternum. Huh. There’s a chance I might be lonelier than I
thought.
Caleb curses and turns away from me, stomping over to his side and
crashing down on it. He lies on his back and covers his eyes with his arms,
his lips curved into a tight frown.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
An exhale escapes him, and he slackens. He doesn’t uncover his eyes,
though. “It’s whatever, I guess,” he says, surprising me. “Wasn’t feeling it
all that much, anyway.”
Suddenly, I feel much lighter, and I fight back a smile.
He asks, “What are you even doing here? I thought you’d be late.”
“I thought—” I snap my mouth shut.
Caleb finally puts his arms down to peer at me. “You thought?”
“Nothing.”
 “That stupid word again.”
“If I tell you, you might get angrier.”
“Spit it out, Nick.”
I take a deep breath and murmur, “I thought you’d want to play video
games. Like we’ve been doing lately.”
Caleb's eyes widen, and he stares at me for an agonizingly long time.
Finally, he splutters, “Y-you cockblocked me for Mario Party?”
My heart drops to my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
“Fuck, Nick,” he says with a laugh, though not unkindly. “Okay. Shit. My
bad. I should have been more direct with you—like, hey, don’t come back
yet because I’m getting dick.”
That weird, unpleasant sensation wraps around me again. “I don’t want to
hear about that shit,” I blurt out without thinking.
He goes silent, and I wince at my own words.
Slowly, Caleb sits up and narrows his eyes at me. “Hear what?”
“I… um…”
A tense silence passes. Caleb, who was literally laughing a few seconds
ago, looks furious. “Thought you weren’t homophobic, golden boy?”
“I’m not,” I insist, my mind scrambling for words. “Caleb, I didn’t mean
—”
“So when all the other guys in the locker room go on and on about all the
girls they’ve hooked up with, you’re fine with that, but I need to be quiet
because I do it with guys?”
“Caleb—”
“Shut the fuck up, Sandoval.”
He gets up and flips me off. Caleb grabs his shoes, yanks the door open,
and disappears before I can salvage this trainwreck of a night.

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 10

Caleb

M yquickly
alarm blares at seven a.m. and I swing my legs over my bed and
swipe my phone.
Across the room, Nick’s still asleep. I know he has a morning class as
well, which means his phone’s alarm will probably go off any minute.
It sucks that I literally can’t get away from him. No matter how pissed off
I am, we still need to share a room.
Just when I thought we were actually friends, he had to go off and expose
his true colors. He’s uncomfortable with me talking about hooking up with
guys. But it’s all right when the rest of the guys do the same thing—only
because they’re talking straight hookups?
Fine, then.
Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been this pissed off in my life, and that’s
saying something because my temper’s terrible.
I glare at him as I get up. All this bitterness in me can’t be healthy, but I
can’t help it.
For a long moment, I only watch him—like a creeper, but who cares? His
hair’s a mess and his blanket’s discarded at the foot of his bed. Nick’s shirt
rides up to his abdomen, and he has a hand on his abs. Just yesterday, I
thought he looked cute like this.
Stupid me, really.
“Fuck you,” I grumble under my breath.
 I’m about to head off when his phone, resting on his desk, catches my
attention.
Smirking, a fabulous idea pops into my mind.
It’s not my proudest moment, but I grab his phone from his table and turn
the damn thing off—there. Nick’s not getting up and he’s going to miss his
first class, which I’m sure will be a total wreck on his very perfect day.
I’d feel bad about it, but then again, if he thought I was going to let his
disdain for my sexuality pass, then he’s in for a surprise. While I’m at it, I
open the windows and throw his shoes outside, because fuck him. It’s
raining, which should make me feel bad, but it doesn’t.
I can’t get away from him, but I sure as hell can make sure his days are as
horrible as possible.

***

After my morning class, I meet up with Maddox in the library. He’s got his
nose buried in a book and just when I think he’s not going to notice me—he
does that when he’s focused—he looks up and frowns.
“Why do you look like someone shit in your coffee?” he asks
I fight to rearrange the scowl on my face… and fail horribly. Shrugging, I
take a seat across him and bury my face in my arms. It’s not until Maddox
prods my ankle under the table that I realize he’s not going to let this go.
My voice is muffled against my arms when I say, “Got into a fight with
Sandoval.”
“Ah, must be bad because you’re using his jock name.”
“The hell is a jock name?”
“It’s what you testosterone-fueled athletes call each other because you
think it makes you all sound manly.”
I lift my head to stare at him. “You mean our surnames?”
“Yes, that.” Maddox grins at me. “You’ve been calling him Nicky for a
while now, and now you’re back to his impersonal jock name. Must have
been a bad fight. What happened?”
He can probably see the mess I’m in because he gently closes his book
and puts it aside. It’s unlike him to brush off studying.
Maddox folds his arms and gives me a look.
“You don’t want to know,” I tell him.
“Try me.”
 “Fine. He said something homophobic, and it pissed me off.”
Maddox frowns. “Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like Nick at all.”
“You don’t know him that well, then. Told you he was a fake-ass golden
boy.”
“I… wait, no. Back up a bit. What exactly happened?”
“He said he doesn’t want to hear about my hookups.” Maddox shifts in
his seat and clearly has something to say about that, maybe to tell me that
not everyone’s going to be fine hearing about those kinds of things.
Quickly, I tack on, “But you don’t know what it’s like in the locker room,
Madd. These fuckboys talk about their sexcapades all the time and Nick
never has a problem with it—but then to me, he doesn’t want to hear about
that shit.”
“I don’t know. It could be a misunderstanding… what if he was jealous?”
I burst out laughing, and a girl from a few tables down shushes me
loudly. What Maddox said is so fucking hilarious that I swear I’ve got tears
in my eyes when I finally settle down.
He asks, “Did you let him explain himself, at least?”
“No. I turned his phone off so he’d be late for class, then I threw his
shoes out the window.”
“Caleb! Are you serious!?”
“Yes,” I say as smugly as I can, even if I don’t actually feel all that great
and proud about what I’ve done now that I’ve had time to think it over.
“You’re an ass,” Maddox grumbles, and I only shrug in reply.
“Hey, Jennings!” Rhys’s voice is loud in the near silent library, and he
marches towards me with a pissed off look, Schultz in tow.
I smirk. Guess they heard about the pranks.
Maddox murmurs, “You’re in trouble.”
“As if.”
In contrast to Rhys, Schultz doesn’t look angry—if anything, he seems
entertained by all this.
“Nick was late for class and missed half an exam, and his shoes were
drenched,” Rhys says. “That was your doing, wasn’t it?”
“Possibly.”
“Nobody else would do something that fucking unhinged.”
I grin. “Simmer down, Captain. It was a harmless prank, and one silly
exam won’t even cause a dent in the golden boy’s GPA.”
 Schultz lets out a laugh, only to be shushed by the same girl who shushed
me only minutes earlier. He says, “Dude, he smelled like a wet dog.”
I mock a gasp.
“That’s the end of it,” Rhys orders, as if I’d ever listen to him. “No more
pranks.”
“Or what?”
“Oooh, prank war?” Schultz jests, and Maddox lets out a tiny snort.
Apparently unnoticed by my teammates until now, they both glance at
Maddox.
“My bad,” Maddox deadpans. He grabs his book and flips through it.
“Continue.”
While Rhys averts his attention back to me, Schultz continues to stare at
Maddox. His expression gradually changes from curiosity to… interest.
Schultz’s lips part and it’s as if he’s seeing another human being for the first
time, and it grates on my nerves.
Maddox is undeniably one of the prettiest guys on campus, and it
wouldn’t be the first time someone’s immediately enamored by him. So, I
get Schultz, but also—I can’t have that.
“Anything else?” I ask, wanting them to go now.
“No more pranks,” Rhys repeats. Hesitatingly, he adds, “Or… uh, we’ll
fight back. I guess. Right, Schultz?”
So convincing.
“Ah? Yeah, sure.” Schultz is still watching Maddox. He turns to me and
points at Maddox, then back at himself. Beaming, he whispers loudly,
“Introduce us.”
Not sure why he’s saying it that way, considering Maddox is within
earshot. My best friend, who’s tapped out of this conversation, is reading
his book intently. I can’t tell if he’s ignoring Schultz or if he genuinely
didn’t hear him now that he’s back to his studying.
I flip Schultz off.
“Shoo,” I tell my teammates, and Rhys rolls his eyes. Rhys relents and
drags Schultz off—who’s now glowering at me for not conceding to his
request.
Once they’re gone, Maddox mumbles, “You athletes are Neanderthals.”
I snort, amused. Can’t disagree, though.
Honestly, our captain’s not that smart if he thinks I’m going to cave and
let Nick get away with anything. If he thinks this is the end of it, then he’s
in for a surprise.

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 11

Caleb

October

aleb. A word,” my uncle says, and I have to hold back a groan

“C because I can tell he’s going to give me a mouthful.
With the way he’s glaring at me, I wonder if this is his breaking
point. I skate away from the rest of the team and come to a halt in front of
him, yanking off my helmet and giving him the most innocent smile I can
muster. Behind us, the rest of the team continue with their drills, the
assistant coaches yelling after them.
“Yes, Coach?” I ask sweetly, since I’m supposed to call him that when
he’s working.
“Why the hell do you keep taunting Sandoval?”
Huh. So he caught that.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say.
“You’ve been taunting him all week. Stop it. You’re supposed to be a
team.”
“I’m not saying or doing anything that any other person in a match
wouldn’t say.”
 “Really? Because I doubt anybody would yell, and I quote, ‘You suck at
handling as much as you fucking suck at Mario Party.’”
I grin. Okay, I admit, that wasn’t my best moment, but I’m running out of
ways to shit talk him. Even Schultz thought it was so lame that he snorted,
telling me I’ve devolved to a middle schooler. Funny guy, that man.
My uncle snaps, “Stop smiling. You’re getting in his head. I haven’t seen
him fumble like this, ever.”
“What’s the issue? If his game’s off because of a few jabs, then that’s on
him.”
“Caleb,” he growls. “You’re a team. Is this a roommate thing? You’re not
getting along?”
Yes. He’s a homophobic prick.
“Quit being such an immature asshole or none of these guys will have
your back in game time, and I might as well not let you play.”
Okay, that hits hard. Take anything from me except for hockey. I grunt in
response and put my helmet back on, and I’m just about to rejoin the drills
when he blows his whistle loud enough to get everyone’s attention.
My uncle yells, “We’re doing two versus two.” He goes over the drill he
wants us to do, and I already hate it. “Everyone pair up. Sandoval and
Caleb, you’re together.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I remind myself that he’s my mom’s only sibling, and he’s done so much
for me. Including helping me get a transfer here. I owe him a lot, and any
other coach would have given up on me by now.
Sighing, I bow my head and just fucking accept whatever it is he’s trying
to do. The man’s probably trying to get me and Nick to actually work
together, as if a stupid drill would do that.
I get in line, and opposite me, Nick does the same. He narrows his eyes at
me, his lips pursed, and I give him a shit-eating grin.
Schultz skates up to me and elbows me. “Lay off him. Morgan’s ready to
pummel you to the ground if you don’t quit it.”
“For some mean words? Did I hurt their precious baby feelings?”
“I’ve never seen Sandoval this frustrated at anyone.” Schultz waves a
gloved hand around. “At least spread out the hate and piss everyone off
equally. Heck, go at it with me, if you’d like. I don’t care. It’s been a week.
Let it rest. What did you two fight about, anyway?”
“Roommate shit,” I deadpan. “He used up all my toothpaste.”
 Schultz rolls his eyes and when the drill starts, he backs away from me.
Not surprisingly, Nick and I work awful together—mostly because
neither of us clearly wants to be paired up. I’ve somehow been able to pull
out Nick’s competitiveness, except that he’s doing it all wrong considering
we’re supposed to be on the same fucking team.
“You’re not supposed to steal from each other!” My uncle yells when our
turn’s over, and the next pair starts. He looks so frustrated, but this was his
idea, right? What did he even expect?
The next time we go, I pass Nick the damn puck just so my uncle will get
off my back, and he misses the net altogether. I burst out laughing, and Nick
looks ready to break his stick in half.
“Quit messing with him!” Rhys yells from the other side of the rink.
“I didn’t do shit!”
“You’re getting in his mind!”
Yes, that’s the point. Nick skates over to Rhys, telling him something I
can’t hear, and Rhys glares at me from over his shoulder. I smile back.
What the hell is Rhys’s deal, anyway? Is he in love with Nick? That
would be sad, considering what Nick thinks about me and my choices.
When practice ends, I watch the miserable look on Nick’s face as he
leaves ahead of me. I’m just about to follow him and the rest of the guys
when someone yanks on my sleeve, pulling me back.
It’s Rhys, his jaw ticking. Schultz skates up to us just as Rhys mutters,
“Leave Nick alone.”
Great, not another intervention from these two.
“Yeah, Jennings,” Schultz says. “You’re taking it a little too far.”
“So dramatic,” I quip.
Rhys narrows his eyes. “He’s been late to his morning classes all week
because of your pranks, and this is the first time I’ve ever seen him this off
his game. Game season’s starting soon and he can’t be fumbling like that.”
“Why? It’s not like he wants to go pro. Who cares?”
“Dude, we care,” Schultz interrupts. “You need to chill out. Seriously. It’s
not a good look on you.”
“Let go of me,” I snap at Rhys, who’s still holding my shoulder. He
shrugs and listens though, and I take a moment to look at them. Rhys gets
on my nerves with his holier-than-thou attitude and how he keeps speaking
for Nick, but Schultz isn’t too bad.
 With them pulling me aside to talk to me like this and my uncle, the
coach, talking to me earlier—maybe I see how I’m doing too much. I
grumble, “Fine, I’ll back off.”
“Thanks,” Rhys says, which honestly only annoys me more.
When we get to the locker room, my eyes automatically seek Nick. I
don’t even know why—the guy’s simply that ingrained into my thoughts
now, haunting me. He’s sitting in his stall and chugging water from a bottle,
his throat bobbing, and I can’t help but stare.
My mouth dries up, because face it, Nick’s hot. It’s getting harder and
harder to not admit it, even if he’s an insufferable asshole. Some of the guys
are talking to themselves, voices resounding through the room, and I take a
while to catch on that they’re talking about some girls they met at a party.
Because of fucking course they are.
“Hey, Sandoval!” Walters slaps Nick with a towel. “Did you think about
what I asked you the other week? About my friend who wants your
number?”
“Oh.” Nick forces a smile. “No, I—”
“Don’t worry, she’s not looking for anything serious, which is what you
need. I think what you need is to get laid.”
“I’ll pass,” he says, earning him a loud groan in response. Walters leaves
him alone after that, though.
This is exactly what I’m talking about—these fuckboys and their locker
room talk, and the way Nick doesn’t call them out for it, even when they’re
including him right in the middle of it.
But me? He told me he didn’t want to hear anything about what I do,
even when I barely said anything.
I can’t help but snort.
Nick’s eyebrows clash together, and he snaps his attention to me, and I
make a theatrical bow and gesture towards the guys.
“See?” I mouth at him, and his frown deepens. And even if I told Rhys
and Schultz I’d back off, I can’t help but take a last dig, showing him both
my middle fingers before turning away to my stall.

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 12

Nick

I haveI’venogotclueclass
what I’m doing right now.
in the morning, but when Walters and Vega asked if I
wanted to hang out, I agreed, mostly because I couldn’t even stand the idea
of going back to my dorm room and facing Caleb.
He fucking hates me, which is my fault. I don’t even know why I care so
much. Yeah, I’m not stupid—I hear what people say about me. They say
I’m a people pleaser, that I’m kind and all that, but when somebody doesn’t
like me? It doesn’t really bother me, I simply stay out of their way. It’s not
as if I’m going to demand that they like me.
With Caleb, though…
Now that I know what it’s like to be on his good side, having it yanked
away from me so abruptly and facing the extreme opposite is like whiplash.
“Sandoval, I think you’ve had enough,” Vega says. He winces at my
state, and I shrug, rubbing my eyes. “Morgan’s going to kill us if he found
out we got you drunk.”
“You didn’t get me drunk.” My head’s pounding and when I look around
me, the walls are tilting. The bar’s chatter and the music is too loud in my
ears, and Vega and Walters are fuzzy shapes. “And Rhys isn’t my keeper.”
A hand rubs my back. Walters. He stares at me with a grimace, and I
blindly reach out for another shot. All the glasses on the table are empty,
though.
 “Another round?” I ask.
“No,” Walters says. “Let’s go, Sandoval. We’re bringing you back to your
dorm.”
“I don’t fucking want to go back there,” I seethe.
“Is this about Jennings?” Vega asks. They must have seen all the trouble
Caleb’s been putting me through recently. “If he’s getting to you that much,
talk to Coach. He may be his nephew, but he wouldn’t let it slide if he knew
how far he’s going.”
“Yeah,” Walters says. “Why don’t you request a switch of rooms?
Jennings is an asshole. I wouldn’t last a day with him.”
“He’s not an asshole,” I mumble.
Well, he is.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t like him, anyway.
“Nick?” a familiar voice—one that I’m dreading even more than Caleb’s
right now—calls out. Blinking, I look up and Jessie’s standing by the side
of the table. She crinkles her eyebrows. “What’s happening? You’ve got
classes tomorrow, right?”
Her knowing my schedule would be annoying if she wasn’t the one who
helped me rearrange them.
“Hi, Jessie,” I force out, not missing the way my teammates glance at
each other.
Vega mumbles, “We were just about to bring him home.”
I scoff. “Nope. Another round, please.”
“God, Nick.” Jessie rolls her eyes, and I’ve heard that tone before. She
won’t take no for an answer. She grabs my arm and despite being much
smaller than me, she’s able to haul me to my feet. “I’ll drive you back.
You’re a mess, and I know you’re going to regret this in the morning.”
Vaguely, I watch as Jessie tells her friends that she’s leaving, and then she
pulls me towards the door.
My teammates look at a loss, but since I don’t fight Jessie—if it’s
familiarity or my disintegrating mind, who knows—they help me to her car.
Someone buckles me into the passenger seat, and I grumble under my
breath, leaning my head against the window and closing my eyes.
I feel the rumble of the car as it moves along familiar streets. Jessie’s
silent, and when I force myself to glance over at her, she looks as if she has
a ton of questions for me.
That makes both of us, really.
 “Thanks, Jessie,” I murmur, because despite the shit that went down
between us, I can appreciate the way she’s looking after me right now.
Though, when I remember how she cheated on me and then got angry at
me for ghosting her, a hysterical laugh bubbles in me. I hide it behind a
stifled cough, and she looks alarmed for a second, probably scared I’ll
throw up in her car. She drives a little faster after that.
When the car stops in front of my dorm, I fumble with my seatbelt. It
takes me three tries to unbuckle it.
“Need help to go to your room?” she asks.
Okay, this time, I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “I’m fine.”
Bringing a girl to my dorm room will probably make whatever’s
happening between me and Caleb a thousand times worse.
“So, this is about Caleb?” Jessie asks.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes. He’s not giving you a hard time, is he?” Her voice is soft and
concerned, and I don’t like it at all.
“Why do you care?”
“He seems like a nice enough guy, especially at work, but don’t forget I
was following your games for a very long time. I know he has a reputation
for being a jerk, and you have a reputation for being a…” Her words drifts
off.
“A pushover,” I supply for her.
She sighs. “I was going to say a nice guy.”
I stare at her for a moment, then shrug. Time for me to leave. Frowning, I
push the passenger door open, and Jessie makes a surprised noise when I
stumble out of the car. It’s irritating but not unexpected when she gets out as
well to help me, and I’m just so out of it that I let her.
She holds me up by the arm, but I stand my ground because I suddenly
feel the need to clear some things.
“He’s not really that much of a jerk,” I tell her. “We were actually hitting
it off, and it was fun. He’s great. But we had a misunderstanding and I’m
not sure how to fix it, and it’s bumming me out.”
“That’s why you’re in this state? Because you’re fighting with your
roommate?”
I shrug, and she lets out a hollow laugh.
Jessie says, “Wow. He’s something else, then. We were together for a
year, and I barely got a reaction out of you on most days. I mean, you
caught me, um…”
“On someone else’s lap making out with them,” I remind her, my voice
clipped.
Her lower lip wobbles. “You didn’t even get angry.”
I shrug.
“You pretended I didn’t exist. That’s all I got from you. And now here’s
someone you met recently, and you’re self-destructing over a
misunderstanding.”
“I see the irony.”
“Oh, Nick. I know you probably hate yourself for being this emotional
for once, but I think this is a good thing. And I think it’s because of Caleb.”
“What?”
“He makes you feel deeply,” she says, as if that explains a damn thing. “I
don’t know what you’re arguing about, but I know you and I know you
didn’t have any bad intentions. It’s hard, but you need to use your words
and talk to him.”
How, when he won’t even let me speak?
And what would I even say? That I want to be his friend? That
sometimes, I stare at him and wonder what it would be like to touch him? If
I could make him make the same sounds he did, that night I saw him with
someone else?
That he makes me confused about what I really want?
Oh, god. What the hell is going on?
“You can do it,” she urges, and I can see her point, but it’s all so very
confusing. How am I supposed to tell him when even I don’t fucking know?

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 13

Caleb

N ick’sOdd.notThe
in our room when I get back from my shift at Stella’s.
guy usually stays in unless it’s a weekend, which he spends
mostly with Rhys.
Maybe he’s sleeping somewhere else tonight so that I don’t have the
chance to turn his phone off. Honestly, though, he could’ve just fucking put
it under his pillow or something. He leaves it on his desk all the time, which
is why it was begging for me to mess with it.
When midnight hits, I maybe get worried. I think of sending him a text
asking him where he’s at, but then—we’re not friends. I made sure of that.
So I switch the lights off and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
I really fucked up, didn’t I?
I’m not sure how long I spend just lying here, and when I hear the door
creak open, I turn towards the wall and pretend to be asleep. The darkness
probably disorients Nick because I hear him stumble against something and
hiss under his breath. Then everything goes quiet.
I don’t even hear him head to the shower or dive into his bed.
Huh?
I turn to look at him and—
My heart drops to my stomach because the motherfucker’s standing right
beside my bed, looming over me like a goddamn creeper.
 “Nick, what the hell!?” I yell, sitting up with a hand to my chest. My
heart’s beating so fast, I think it’ll stop functioning altogether. “What are
you doing!?”
“I’m not homophobic,” he says, and is—is he slurring?
“Are you drunk? On a Thursday night? What the hell’s going on?”
“Caleb, I’m not homophobic.”
“Yeah, yeah! I heard it the first time. Can you please go back to your side
of the room?”
He doesn’t go back to his side. In fact, he takes it as an invitation to sit on
the edge of my bed, and I stare at him in bafflement.
I can barely make out his face, but I can smell the alcohol on him.
“Nick,” I say carefully. “You’ve got classes in the morning.”
“You’re just going to make me late again, anyway.”
Good point.
“Are you all right?” I ask, voice softer than I intend it to be.
“I was jealous,” he murmurs.
My chest cracks open, and I don’t know what to say to that. This entire
thing is disorienting. “Um. What?”
“I wanted to hang out with you.” He moves his hand against my sheets,
as if searching for something, and it lands on my thigh. The tips of his
fingers slip under the opening of my shorts. I jolt at the contact, but don’t
push away. You know… in case a sudden movement makes him decide to
kill me or something.
What the fuck is going on right now?
Nick says, “You kept pushing me away, and I thought we were finally
getting somewhere. You’re okay with Schultz and the other guys on the
team, even with my ex, but then… you hate me. And I let it go. But then we
hung out, and I liked it. A lot.”
Nick struggles to get his words out and with the hand that’s not on my
leg, he clutches at his hair and lets out an exhale.
“Nick,” I croak. “Go to bed.”
He shakes his head. “I saw you with someone else in here, then you’re
talking about hooking up with him in our room, and it made me feel…
jealous. I don’t know the right word.”
“Listen—”
“It threw me in a loop. Maybe the right word’s envy. Is that it? And I
know it’s lame and stupid because we’re practically strangers, and you call
me a fake-ass golden boy—”
“Hey.” I grab his arm. “Stop.”
“I really wanted to spend time with you. Then I said the wrong thing and
things spiraled, and I pissed you off, and then I didn’t know how to fix it.”
Wow. He’s slurring, but he’s still eloquent, despite smelling like a
distillery. Is there anything the golden boy can’t do?
“To be fair,” I say, “I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.”
“I’m sorry.”
I clear my throat. After a moment of hesitation, I say, “Sorry for the
pranks. And for messing with you in practice.”
He smiles, all soft and eager and real, and I don’t know what to do—
especially when he rubs his thumb against my leg. Nick looks at me in a
way that nobody else has, as if he’d want to get closer to me despite me
constantly giving him reasons not to. And he said exactly that, in his
drunken stupor.
Slowly, he leans towards me and buries his face in my neck. The scent of
tequila and his shampoo invades my senses, and I forget how to act. We’ve
never been this close before. Not ever. My throat’s tight and my hands
shake against my sheet. God, I feel dazed. It takes everything in me not to
tilt my head and press my lips against his hair.
Nick’s quiet against me, and if it weren’t for his soft breaths on my neck,
I’d think he fell asleep.
“Nick, go to bed,” I murmur.
He huffs a laugh. “I like it more when you call me Nicky.”
God, just how drunk is he? He needs to stop being so up in my space like
this, needs to take his hand off my leg, because my dick’s taking all kinds of
interest in whatever the hell is happening right now.
I pry his hand off my thigh—especially since it’s getting dangerously
close to my crotch, and he only takes that as an invitation to place it flat on
my chest instead. He shifts a bit, clutching at my shirt, and his fingers catch
on my nipple piercing. I choke out in surprise and heat rushes through me
and settles in my gut.
“Caleb,” he murmurs, cupping my neck and pushing our foreheads
together. His breath’s warm against my mouth and I can’t move. My brain
has stopped functioning. “Is it weird that I think about kissing you?”
I suck in a breath and my thoughts devolve into static. This is ridiculous.
He’s drunk and not thinking right, and I need to be the better person.
 Hoarsely, I say, “Hey, stop, you need to—”
The grip he has on my nape tightens and my mind stutters when Nick
presses his lips against mine, hard. His lips are soft and wet, and he tastes
like the tequila he’s probably been inhaling all night, and my world comes
to a complete halt.
It takes too long for my brain to catch up.
He slides his warm mouth against mine, poking his tongue out and
licking it against my lower lip. I almost part my lips and give him more,
because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something this much.
Fuck. No.
A hand flat on his chest, I push him away. “Stop it, Nick.”
My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I see the horror on his face.
He rasps, “Shit. I’m sorry.”
My hearts beating so fast my ribcage aches. “It’s fine. Forget it. You need
to go to your own bed now, though.”
“Caleb… I’m so sorry.”
“We can talk about it in the morning if you want to, but not right now.”
He blinks at me slowly and his lower lip wobbles. He nods, and his
expression’s killing me. He’s mortified, and I don’t know what to do about
it. After a long silence, he finally gets up.
Nick stumbles under his own weight and almost falls over. I put an arm
around his waist and lead him to his bed, and he’s so fucking warm, and my
throat constricts once more.
I help him out of his jacket. Then Nick fumbles with his jeans and I blink
at him, wondering if I need to help him with that as well—and he stares at
me with huge eyes and a pout, and I tell myself I’m truly and completely
fucked.
“Sit down,” I say.
Nick mumbles words I don’t understand, and his bed creaks when he falls
back against it. He sucks in a breath when I get on my knees to unbutton his
jeans for him. I unzip him too, being careful about not touching him
anywhere else, and then realize he’s still wearing his shoes.
Gently, I take his shoes off, then help him out of his jeans.
What a sight we make—hours earlier, I was ready to knock him out.
Now, I’m on my knees undressing him.
As soon as he’s only in his shirt and his boxer briefs, Nick lets out a
pained groan and collapses into his bed.
 “I wanna be friends.” He speaks against the pillow, muffling his voice.
Judging by how he kissed me, I’m guessing that’s not all he wants—
though I don’t say that. He’s drunk, and I can’t really hold him to his
actions right now.
In the room’s dimness, he gives me a lop-sided smile, and I can’t help but
stare at how dorky he looks and sounds. It’s… shit, it’s kind of cute.
“Fine,” I say, wondering if he’s even going to remember this in the
morning. His eyes flutter closed, and I murmur, “Good night, Nicky.”
As soon as I turn my back on him, a slight smile spreads across my face,
and I tell myself it’s only because of how ridiculous this night turned out to
be.

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 14

Nick

November

C alebKindandof.I are friends now.

The pranks have stopped, at least, and he no longer scowls each time I’m
in the room. He’s back to bringing me sweets from the café, and we’ve
played a few rounds of Mario Party since making up.
Weirdly, I feel like there’s a huge puzzle piece I’m missing. That night we
made up, I got drunk and probably made a fool of myself. I have the vague
memory of practically begging him to be my friend, and that’s it.
The drunk memories have morphed together with a recurring dream of
me kissing Caleb, and I don’t even know how to tackle that.
I’m a goddamn mess, and at least tonight’s a change of scenery. That’s
how I try to see it, anyway. I’m at the children’s hospital for the ribbon
cutting of the clinic Dad’s company built, and my nerves are going haywire.
I don’t like hospitals. They remind me too much of Mom’s last days.
So here I am, wearing a suit with a tie, entirely out of my element.
“Nice to see you, Nicholas,” Dad’s business partner says. He shakes my
hand, and I return the smile he gives me. “I hear you’ll be joining us soon?”
 “Yes, I’m graduating this year,” I tell him. Out of the corner of my eye, I
can see Dad watching us—as if seeing if I’ll be able to hold my own in this
conversation. It’s as if I haven’t joined him in these parties before and did
exactly what was expected of me—smile, exchange pleasantries, and
basically put on a facade.
Caleb’s not wrong when he says I’m a fake, though I owe it to Dad to get
through these things for him. Besides, I should get used to it—this is going
to be my world soon.
Dad’s partner asks me about Camrose, mostly interested in the professors
and campus life. He’s got a son going into college soon, he says, though he
hopes he’s going to get a scholarship abroad. I nod along and force myself
to listen to his every word.
A woman with a clipboard steps up to us. “Shall we gather around for the
ribbon cutting?”
I step beside Dianne, who squeezes my arm as we watch Dad and his
partners gather around the ceremonial red ribbon. They stand right in front
of the clinic they’ve built, grinning from ear to ear. Save for a few genuine
ones, none of their smiles reach their eyes.
Practiced, stiff, and forced. I let out a soft exhale, trying to relieve the
pressure in my chest. This is nothing like being out on the ice, where things
are unpredictable, fast-paced, and real.
Caleb would lose his mind if he saw all these forced smiles.
God, I’m thinking of my roommate again. Lately, I can’t seem to think of
anything else.
One of Dad’s business partners says some words, then all three of them
hold a ridiculously large pair of scissors. They pause for some photos, and
beside me, Dianne hiccups. I take a moment to realize she’s sniffling, and I
wonder if that’s part of the act, too.
Don’t be ungrateful, I tell myself as I recollect myself. They’ve been
nothing but nice to you. Dianne treats you like her own son.
The ribbon’s finally cut and there’s a round of applause, more talking,
and then the crowd finally disperses to smaller groups. Dad walks up to me
and Dianne, wearing a suit that’s probably as expensive as most people’s
entire wardrobes.
“Are you all right?” he asks me. “Nicholas, are you spacing out again?”
I force a laugh and shake my head. “Sorry, Dad. Just a bit tired because of
this morning’s game.”
 “Oh, yes. I wanted to watch it, but we were so busy today. Did you win?”
I nod, and Dad beams as if he’s truly happy for me. I think he is.
He says, “Good. I know how much you love that sport.”
Too bad I only have until this year to play it. Of course, I could still play
occasionally and for fun, but it won’t be the same.
I put up a hand as if to loosen my tie, then stop myself. After a moment of
hesitation, I ask, “Do you mind if I walk around?”
“Go ahead. You should look at the garden we built on the fifth floor.”
Right, the garden that Caleb mentioned he liked.
Shit. There I go again, thinking of Caleb.
I make my way to the fifth floor, searching for the garden that Dad
mentioned. The hospital hallways, as usual, makes my stomach churn. It
helps that the vibes here differ from the hospital where my mom stayed,
though. Colorful murals of cartoon characters fill the walls, and even the
nurses and doctors wear brighter scrubs than in most other hospitals I’ve
seen.
Still, it’s a hospital. Nobody wants to be here, including me.
There are sounds of children giggling and laughing, and I follow it to two
tall glass doors. It leads to a massive outdoor space with stone pathways,
overflowing planters, and benches.
There are some kids with their families, most of them in wheelchairs, but
one person instantly catches my attention.
Caleb.
I stare, not sure if I’m actually seeing him. I’ve been sort of obsessing
over the guy all week, and maybe I’ve finally lost it.
The guy’s wearing a baseball cap and a sweater, talking to a young girl in
a wheelchair. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s around ten years old.
Before I know it, I’m making my way to them. They don’t notice me and
Caleb’s cackling as he shows her something on his phone.
I clear my throat. “Caleb?”
He looks over his shoulder, and yes, it’s definitely Caleb. Wide-eyed,
Caleb stares at me as if I’m an apparition, then stands up straight. A massive
grin spreads across his face, and his reaction floods me with relief.
“Nicky!” he says, way too loudly. A lady across from us shushes him.
“Who’s this?” the young girl he’s with asks.
“Penny, this is Nicky, my annoying roommate. This is my sister, Penny.
Short for Penelope.”
 I remember him mentioning her, and I give Penny a smile. It only now
occurs to me that when Caleb said he was visiting someone at the hospital,
he was talking about her. That had been weeks ago, though—she’s been
here since then?
Penny doesn’t return my smile and only frowns at me.
“What are you doing here?” Caleb asks, giving me a once-over. “And
why do you look like you’re running for the presidency?”
I self-consciously glance down at my suit. It’s not the cheaper and
simpler one I use for games, but the expensive one that Dad’s personal
tailor made for me. “Uh. I’m here for the new clinic’s ribbon cutting.”
“Oooh, fancy. I didn’t know that was today.” Caleb snickers and waves in
my direction. “See, Pen? Told you my roommate’s a billionaire.”
“I’m not,” I mutter. My dad is.
Penny still says nothing and only continues to stare at me. Her
resemblance to her brother is uncanny, including the way she scrutinizes me
with a look. They have the same light hair, though hers is a lot thinner. The
shape of their face is the same, and their eyes are identical. I wonder if she
also has green flecks in her eyes? She’s too far away for me to see, and even
Caleb’s aren’t easy to spot unless I’m looking too intently.
The way she doesn’t take her gaze off me makes me shift between my
feet, and Caleb seems to notice and laughs. He affectionately ruffles her
hair, and she relaxes somewhat.
Is she pissed I disturbed them? Shit. I’m sure she doesn’t see him a lot,
and I just interrupted the little time they have. I’m about to say that I’m
leaving when a nurse opens the door and calls out, “Visitation hours are
over, folks.”
“Nooo,” Caleb says dramatically. He grumbles under his breath as he gets
behind Penny’s wheelchair, his face contorted in a pout. “Sorry, Pen. Mom
should head back, though.”
“Can’t you stay with me tonight?”
“No, sweetheart, I have practice early tomorrow.”
There’s a funny, fluttering sensation in my chest when I hear the
nickname he has for his little sister.
“But you had a game this morning!” she whines. “You’re so annoying.”
Caleb flashes a grin at me. “Don’t let her fool you. She loves me.”
I huff out a laugh.
 He pushes her wheelchair towards the door, and I don’t move, watching
them go. When he’s a few steps away, Caleb turns to me and lifts his
eyebrows. “You can’t stay here. They’re going to lock it.”
Caleb seems to be familiar with all the ins and outs of the hospital, and it
causes an ache in my chest. I nod and follow them out, immediately
transported back into the fluorescent-lit hallways that I hate.
“You bring a car?” Caleb asks me.
“No, my dad’s dropping me off after this thing.”
“You can hitch a ride with me if you want.”
“Ah, yeah. That’ll be great, so it’s less trouble for my dad. I don’t want to
bother him too much.”
He gives me an odd look but doesn’t say anything. Shrugging, he pushes
Penny’s wheelchair down the hallway. Once we’re in front of what I
presume is her room, Caleb spins Penny’s wheelchair around a few times,
making loud helicopter noises until a nurse asks him to stop it.
Penny’s giggling though, and as soon as the nurse turns away, he does it
again, without the sounds this time.
“I’m going to go let my dad know I’m leaving,” I tell him, because I can
tell Penny doesn’t want me here.
“Okay. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Dad and Dianne are still where I left them. When I tell them I ran into
Caleb and that I’m hitching a ride home with him, Dad asks, “Who is your
roommate visiting?”
“His sister.”
His eyes widen. “Why?”
I shrug, only then realizing that I don’t know much about Caleb and his
family. He knows about my family—because he stalked them—and knows
about how I lost my mom. In return, I barely know anything about him.
Is his little sister the reason he transferred to Camrose? Was it to be closer
to her?
When I head to the lobby, Caleb’s not there yet. While waiting, I loosen
my tie. The damn thing makes me feel as if I’m choked. I take my suit
jacket off too, folding it in my arms.
“Nicky!” Caleb calls from behind me, and I turn to him and can’t even
stop the goofy grin that spreads across my face. His gaze flickers over my
button-down shirt, and for a moment, I think he’s going to tease me about
my outfit again. Instead, he looks away and points towards the parking lot.
“C’mon, let’s go.”
Nodding, I follow him. We’re silent while we walk, and I rally myself to
start a conversation.
“Are you looking forward to our next game?” I ask. “We’re going against
your old team.”
“I guess it’ll be nice to see them,” he mumbles. “Feels weird, though.”
“It’s kind of like seeing an old ex,” I joke. When he pulls a face at my
teasing, my mouth parts in surprise. “Wait… do you have an ex on your old
team?”
“Something like that. At least one guy won’t be happy to see me.”
“Shocker,” I say, keeping my voice light. Still, my insides twist, similar
to when I saw him with that guy in our dorm room.
“Was that sarcasm? That sounded like sarcasm.”
I smile in response. “Nah.”
He leads the way to his car, and I’m climbing into the passenger seat
when my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen and it’s from a group chat I
share with Rhys and Schultz.
Schultz: We’re avenging you, Sandoval. Morgan still has your spare
key.
Me: Avenging?
Schultz: Yes, we’re getting back at Jennings for all the pranks he
pulled on you!!!
Me: Huh???? Don’t.
Rhys: We’ve got you, buddy.
Schultz: Stop being so nice. We’re already here. LET’S DO THIS!!!
“Sooo, that was my sister,” Caleb says, interrupting how I’m frantically
typing a message in the group chat. He awkwardly rubs the back of his
neck.
“Is she why you transferred?”
“Yup. She has a rare autoimmune disease, and she’s in and out of the
hospital a lot. She’s battling an infection right now, but she should be
heading home this week.”
I wince. “I’m sorry.”
Caleb’s frown makes me realize that was the last thing he wants to hear
from me.
 “Anyway,” he says before I can apologize for apologizing. “Last
semester, she collapsed in her bedroom, and they had to rush her to the
emergency room. It killed me that I was too far away, and that it took me
hours to get to her—and that’s why I transferred. Stupid, really. I should
have just gone here from the start. Realistically, I know I can’t always be in
the same city, you know? But at least if I go to a school nearby, even if I
have to stay at the dorm, at least I’m so much closer most of the time.”
I chew on my lower lip and study him. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re
playing for Buffalo, then. Your home rink will still be close to her.”
“Yeah. They’re supposed to sign me after the school year’s over.”
The way he says it doesn’t have his usual conviction. “You’re not
confident they will?”
“Nah, they said they’ll surely sign me… but they might send me to the
minors first, which pays well, but not as well. Also, it’s my dream to play in
the major league, so I need it to happen sooner than later.”
Before I can stop myself, I say, “They’ll definitely send you to the NHL
right away. They’d be stupid not to.”
Caleb reaches for me and flicks me in the ear, making me yelp in
surprise. I’d probably retaliate if he weren’t driving, though the grin he
gives me makes my irritation die a quick death, anyway. For a moment,
Caleb meets my stare, and my heart skips a beat. What’s that about?
I chew on my lip. After a moment of hesitation, I ask, “Can I ask you
what it’s like?”
“What’s what like?”
“Getting drafted, the development camps, the training… it sounds
exciting, and it’d be interesting to know.”
Caleb huffs out a soft, amused laugh. The sound of it makes me relax,
and I loosen the grip I have on my thighs. I didn’t even realize I was doing
that.
He says, “Yeah, what do you want to know?”

OceanofPDF.com
 15

Caleb

O nhesitates
the drive back to campus, Nick asks me a ton of questions. At first, he
a lot, thinking too long about what he wants to know. As with
almost everything about him, I notice his reluctance and don’t call it out. I
simply respond with as much detail as I can.
Soon enough, he’s leaning forward in his seat and beaming at me,
listening to every word I’m saying. Nick’s expression lights up in a way
that blinds me, and it takes all my willpower to keep my eyes on the road.
It’s obvious he’s interested in playing hockey beyond college.
Which begs the question… why the fuck doesn’t he want to do pro
hockey? I don’t understand why he’d give it up to work at some corporate
job, but I stop myself from asking because it’d probably ruin whatever nice
thing’s happening between us now. When I tell him the names of the players
I met at the camp, he actually groans and buries his face in his hands,
saying he’s envious.
“You want to see the plan the development coach sent me?” I cock my
head towards my phone, which is resting between us.
“Yes!”
After I tell him how to unlock my phone and find the document pinned
on my screen, Nick’s dopey grin gets even bigger. He beams as he scrolls
through the pages, which outlines what McAvoy—Buffalo’s development
coach—wants me to work on.
 “No wonder you sometimes stay behind to do extra drills,” Nick says,
grinning. “I can stay back and help you if you want to.”
“Sure.”
“This is really, really cool.” The enthusiasm in his voice is palpable.
“Shit. This plan’s incredibly detailed and tailored for you. I’d kill to have
one of these.”
He could have that experience too, but I continue to shut my mouth about
that. Nick asks me more questions, and I gamely answer him. It’s not until
I’m parking near our dorm that he stops mid-sentence.
Nick flushes. “Sorry. I’m asking way too much.”
“I don’t mind.”
He beams again, and my hand falters from where I’m turning off the
ignition.
“Let’s go, dork,” I say before getting out of the car, and he protests at the
nickname but follows me out, anyway. He looks as if he wants to ask even
more things, but as soon as we enter our building, a guy calls him over.
Of course, people are going to stop Mr. Popular, as per usual. Sighing, I
wait until they’re done, and he apologizes before we finally head up.
“By the way,” he says, once the elevator doors open to our hallway.
“Why didn’t you just study here from the start?”
“Because your team hasn’t made it to the championships in years.”
“Ouch. Also, you mean our team. And we almost made it last year.”
“Yeah, and only because my uncle started coaching here. Besides, almost
doesn’t cut it.”
“We’ll just have to make it this year, then.”
I huff a laugh as I unlock our door. “So confident. What makes this year
any different from last?”
Nick meets my gaze. “You.”
My eyes narrow. He’d better not say shit like that, or I’ll do something
stupid—like kiss him.
“Weird way to propose, but okay,” I joke, and he wheezes in surprise.
I open the door and switch on the lights, ready to change and sink into my
bed, when—
“What the fuck?” I growl.
“What?”
“Where the fuck’s my mattress?”
“Your… mattress?”
 Scowling, I grab him by his loose tie and yank him inside. Nick grunts
and almost falls forward, catching himself before he stumbles at me. I
gesture towards my mattress—or lack thereof. My bed frame’s empty save
for my pillows and blanket.
“Oh no,” Nick says softly. “They didn’t…”
I round on Nick, and he steps away until his back’s flat on the wall.
“Where’s my bed, Nick!?”
His expression twists and he hesitates. “Um. Rhys and Schultz… they.
Uh.”
“Use your words.”
Nick’s shoulders slacken and he rubs a hand over his face. “They’re
getting back at you for the pranks you’ve been playing on me.”
“You knew they were going to do this and didn’t stop them?”
“I got distracted,” he mumbles.
“Give me your phone.”
Nick doesn’t even hesitate. He takes his phone out and unlocks it, giving
it to me with a slight frown. The only notification is from a group chat he
shares with the culprits who stole my bed, and when I click on it, there’s a
photo of Rhys and Schultz posing with my mattress. The background is a
dorm room similar to ours, which means they’ve hidden it somewhere in
the building.
I hit the button to start a video call and they answer within seconds.
Schultz says, “Hiii, Sandov—oh. Hey, Jennings, so nice to see you.”
“Give me my bed back.”
“Can’t,” Rhys says. “Need to sleep.”
I stare in disbelief. Nick’s trying not to laugh, and I’m sorely tempted to
kick him.
“Where’s my bed!?” I yell.
“Relax, dude,” Schultz says. “It’s in one of the empty rooms. I won’t tell
you which one and where to get the key, though. You need to apologize to
Nick first.”
“I’m not apologizing to him.”
“Guess you’ll be sleeping on a hard surface tonight, then,” Rhys says,
grinning.
I can feel the vein on my forehead, ready to pop. Gritting my teeth, I
shove the phone at Nick’s chest. “I’m going to get ready for bed, and that
bed better be back here when I’m done, or I’m kicking all your asses.”
 Nick only smiles when I give him the most intimidating glare I can
muster. Clearly, I’m losing my touch—the guy’s not even shaken by my
efforts anymore, so I smack him lightly on the head. Annoyingly, that only
earns me another laugh, and I roll my eyes and stomp over to my closet.
Nick walks over to his side of the room and says, “Come on, guys, give
him his mattress back.”
I duck into the bathroom to get ready for bed and can hear Rhys and
Schultz arguing with Nick. Nick’s asking them where the key is and telling
them he’ll get it himself, but they won’t budge at all. Assholes.
After I’ve done my bedtime routine and changed into a shirt and sweats, I
step back out and, unsurprisingly, my mattress still isn’t there. I glower at
Nick, who only smiles sheepishly at me from where he’s sitting on the edge
of his bed.
“Take my bed,” he tells me. “I’ll go sleep at Rhys’s.”
“What, he doesn’t have a roommate?”
“He does, but I crash with them sometimes.”
I blink. “Like… beside him?”
Nick’s typing into his phone and absently nods, and something ugly
twists in my gut. I think this annoyance may be… jealousy? Gritting my
teeth, I circle around Nick and collapse on his bed. My knee hits his back,
and he chuckles, glancing down at me.
“I’ll go get changed and head to Rhys’s then. Might as well punish him
with my annoying body heat and all my tossing and turning, since he did
this even if I asked him not to.”
He does toss and turn a lot—I hear him at night, moving around as if he’s
running a marathon in his sleep. “Whatever. Do what you want, but I’m
sleeping here.”
“Got it.” Nick stands up and pulls his tie off.
While he’s in the bathroom, I send the longest, most unhinged text
messages to both Rhys and Schultz. When I’m satisfied, I grab Nick’s
blanket and throw it over me, turning to my side and resting my cheek
against his pillow.
And, wow, okay. I sorely miscalculated this. The scent of his shampoo
floods me and I’m pretty sure my brain almost malfunctions. It smells so
good—masculine and intoxicating, and it possesses me to turn my head
slightly into his pillow.
 I’m debating whether to send more messages to Rhys and Schultz when
Nick returns and gives me a look, and I pretend he didn’t catch me sniffing
his pillow.
“See you in the morning,” he says, switching the lights off for me, and I
watch his silhouette reach for the door.
“We could share your bed,” I blurt out before my brain’s able to fully
reboot.
He’s quiet for a long while, then he clears his throat. “Really…?”
“Sure?” Not sure if I’m imagining it, but I think he sounds thrilled? Like
when I ask him if he wants to play Mario Party? Holy shit, I’m becoming
delusional.
“I move around a lot.”
“I know.”
“And I’m a human furnace,” he adds.
I know that too, because when I helped him out of his clothes, his skin
burned under my fingers. “I don’t mind, Nicky. But if you’d rather not sleep
next to a gay guy, I get it.”
He huffs. “That’s not it at all.”
Nick walks over to me, and I feel as if a ball’s lodged in my throat.
Ironically, I didn’t actually expect him to agree about this. I scoot over to
the wall, giving him space, and Nick pauses. He stands there for a few
seconds, only staring at me, and I almost think he’s going to take it all back
when he lets out a breath and gets into bed beside me.
The both of us get as comfortable as we can while also trying not to let
any inch of our skin touch. My shoulder’s wedged up against the hard wall
and I’m stiffer than I’ve ever been in my life, and I think Nick’s trying not
to move, either.
This is the most awkward night of my entire existence. Who the hell
thought this was a good idea?
Oh. Right.
Me.
“You sure you’re fine with this?” he croaks.
“Yeah, dude. If you and Morgan can share a bed just fine, then so can we.
We’re friends, right?”
Despite how dim the room is, I see the wide smile he gives me. He laughs
and says, “You admitted we’re friends!”
“Don’t get too excited,” I grumble.
 Nick snickers, and I say nothing else because I’m distracted by the
warmth radiating off him. Honestly, I don’t think I’m getting any sleep
tonight. Every fiber of my being is hyperaware of how close he is.
“We’re friends,” he repeats, still sounding way too happy about it.
“Okay. We’re friends. Don’t you remember how you already asked me to
be your friend the other day?”
“I asked…?”
“Yes. Do you remember anything from when you came back here drunk
off your ass?”
Do you remember kissing me?
After a pause, he says, “Vaguely. I don’t drink a lot, and, um… I
remember that night, but not clearly. I think I apologized?”
“Uh-huh.” I guess he doesn’t remember the kiss, then.
“And I asked to be your friend?”
“Yes.”
“And you said… yes?”
“I don’t know, Nick, we’re sharing a bed right now. What do you think?”
Nick laughs, and we’re so close that I feel his breath on my cheek. His
breath smells like toothpaste and my hands itch to reach out to brush his
hair away from his eyes. His gaze meets mine, and when he smiles, I can’t
help but stare at his lips.
I only hope it’s too dark for him to notice—except that I can see his face
clearly enough, so I’m sure he can see mine.
As if mimicking me, his gaze also falls to my mouth, and my heart jumps.
He snaps his eyes back to mine immediately, and I can’t even tell which is
more torturous—him staring at my mouth or holding my stare.
What the hell is this guy doing to my thoughts? I’ve never been so
fucking conflicted with anyone else before.
“Um,” he murmurs. “That guy from before…? The one you were with in
our room?”
“Dex?”
“Dex. Is he all right with this?”
“We’re not a thing and I haven’t even talked to him since. Besides,
nothing’s happening.”
Nick nods, and I feel the ends of his hair against my forehead. Not sure if
it’s just my imagination, but I think I’m slowly inching closer to him—or
maybe he’s the one doing it.
 “You do that a lot? Hookup?” he asks.
“Not recently. Haven’t been with anyone since I transferred here. I think
my dick’s about to fall off.”
His eyes widen and he wheezes.
“And you?” I ask. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“Not since Jessie.”
“Not even anything casual?”
“No. Not really my scene. I have to be really into someone before we…
you know…”
I grin wickedly. “Fuck.”
“Jesus Christ, Caleb.”
“We’re adults, Nicky. We can call it what it is.”
Nick gives a long sigh, though I can see the amusement in his face. “Fine.
I have to be really into someone before we… fuck.”
“And you haven’t met anyone since Jessie?” I’m whispering, and I’m not
sure why. This whole thing seems strangely intimate, with us in a bed that’s
way too small for two tall athletes like us, and the room’s so quiet that I can
hear every move and breath he makes.
Nick doesn’t answer my question, and he looks away and shrugs, though
there’s something in his smile that I can’t read. He shifts as if he’s trying to
get more comfortable, and I’m pretty sure that if he accidentally moved
backward even by only a bit, he’d fall off the bed—so I press my back
against the wall as much as I can and put a hand on his arm, pulling him
towards the middle of the bed.
He doesn’t complain when I don’t take my hand off him. His knee’s
resting against mine now, and it’s ridiculous how I want more. I feel as if
I’m teetering on the line and ready to burst, wanting to reach out to do
something about the tension that’s probably all in my head.
I remind myself he’s straight and uninterested.
Though… a part of me has convinced myself that he’s not actually as
straight as he says, especially with how he looks at me, and with how he
kissed me when he was drunk—but that’s ridiculous. And even if he were
into guys, he’s this perfect golden boy who can have anyone on campus.
Why would he want someone as messed up as me?
Nick’s eyes flicker to my lips again, and he lets out a soft exhale, and I
can’t take it.
“You need to stop looking at me like that, Nicky,” I say.
 “Like how?”
Like you’d kiss me again if I asked.
“Nothing.” I grunt, turning around so my back’s facing him. “Good
night.”
“I thought you hated that word,” he mumbles with a chuckle, and I
pretend I don’t hear him, shutting my eyes tight and hoping I get some
fucking sleep even when I’m next to the human equivalent of fire.

***

I’m going to punch him.

That’s what I keep telling myself throughout the night, because Nick was
not kidding when he said he tosses and turns in his sleep. A lot. That I knew
this and still thought this was a good idea is beyond me.
He kicks and punches too, and when he smacks a hand across my face at
two a.m., I stare at the ceiling and question all my life choices.
Sometime through the night, he finally settles—or maybe I turn immune
to the physical beating—and I get some shut-eye.
Only to be woken up at what I swear is not ten minutes later to his alarm.
He blindly smacks around his desk to turn it off, and then, silence. Glancing
at the window, I see that the sun’s rising. Light comes through the cracks in
the curtains.
I might as well get up and plan my revenge on Rhys and Schultz.
But then Nick drapes an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against
him, my back to his front, and my brain short-circuits. He grumbles
something under his breath and buries his face against my hair, his breath
coming warm against my nape, and all the muscles in my body refuse to
move from the shock.
Jesus Christ. Does he think I’m someone else?
I close my eyes to calm myself down, my heart hammering in my chest.
And when I think I’ve gotten it under control, a warm hand slips under the
bottom of my shirt and lays flat against my stomach.
That’s when my brain finally catches up.
Grunting, I grab his arm and pry it off me. “Let go, Nick.”
“Five more minutes.” His arm wraps around me again and he says in a
raspy voice, “Please, Caleb.”
What the actual fuck?
 Hearing him say those words in that way immediately gets me worked
up, because it sounds like he’s begging me for something else entirely. It
brings up a vivid image of him holding me close, sweaty and naked,
pleading—
I curse under my breath and try prying him off again, only to freeze when
something unmistakably hard presses against my backside.
All my sanity gets thrown out the window.
Nick’s dick is hard.
And he’s pressing it against the small of my back. And with that
realization, my cock begins to thicken.
Oh, dear god, all sorts of lines are getting crossed right now, and even I’m
not unhinged enough to let this fly.
“Nick!” I yell, struggling out of his hold and sitting up, and he finally
stirs to consciousness.
He blinks slowly at me, then he freezes, and his face goes multiple shades
of red. His jaw drops open, and I stare back at him—so fucking unsure
where to go from here. Nick bends a knee and angles away from me, clearly
trying to hide his boner.
Do we talk about his morning wood? Do we talk about how I’m clearly
trying to hide mine as well? What the actual fuck?
I clear my throat. “Let me through. I wanna get up.”
Nick nods, sitting up with a groan, and I practically jump off the fucking
bed.

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 16

Nick

C ongratulations, Nick, you fucked it up again.

The sight of Caleb rushing off to the bathroom as if he’d seen a ghost
is enough to make my boner disappear, but it’s a little too late because
there’s no way he didn’t see it.
Worse than that, he felt it. Against his back. This would be so much less
awkward if I hadn’t been practically holding him down and pressing it
against his back.
Seriously, what the fuck’s wrong with me? I’m a mess.
Every time I think me and Caleb are finally getting some groundwork and
establishing what could be called a friendship, I do something stupid—like
make him think I hate his sexuality or hump him in my sleep. This is all on
top of me coming back drunk and pouring my heart out to him and not
remembering even half the shit I did or said that night.
I press my pillow against my face and groan. “Oh, my gooood.”
It’s mortifying, and I wish I could blame it on an unfortunate case of
morning wood, except that I’m pretty sure I got hard because of Caleb.
Because of the smell of his hair, and the warmth of his skin, and how
perfectly he fit in my arms. I thought I was dreaming because my half-
asleep brain was thinking there was no way Caleb would be in my arms,
and that’s why I leaned into the sensation.
And got turned on by it, apparently.
 I guess that really means I’m into guys?
I mean… sure, I’ve found some guys attractive, and I may have had the
occasional and confusing daydream about it—but I’ve never actually felt
the need to unpack that.
Until Caleb happened.
I’m not even sure what it is about him that makes me gravitate towards
him. He’s loud, competitive, antagonistic, and aggressive… but he’s also
kind, thoughtful, funny, and doesn’t take shit.
He’d never want someone like me. And I just humped him.
After a few minutes wallowing in self-pity, I grab my cellphone and send
a quick text to Rhys and Schultz telling them to give back Caleb’s mattress.
My amazing friends totally ignore me and instead flood the group chat with
messages asking to hang out after practice.
I don’t know how to tell them I’m thinking of not going to practice at all.
While I’m at it, might as well drop out of school and disappear, considering
I don’t think I can face Caleb ever again. I wonder how difficult it would be
to move to another country?
The bathroom door opens and Caleb steps out, and I duck my head and
pretend neither of us exists.
Caleb stands there, watching me, and my cheeks heat at his scrutiny.
“It’s fine,” he bites out, voice clipped. “It’s simple biology so let’s not get
weird about it. My bed better be back by tonight though, or I swear to god
—”
I raise my hand to interrupt him, my other still typing a long-winded text
to Rhys and Schultz. “I get it. Already on it.”
“Good.” Caleb grumbles something else under his breath, pulls on his
shoes and grabs his bag, and the next thing I hear is the sound of the door
shutting behind him.

***

“Please, guys,” I plead. “Give him back the mattress.”

“Not until he apologizes.” Rhys leads the way to Stella’s. I agreed to
come here with them after practice only so I could pester them to stop with
their silly prank. Unfortunately, Rhys and Schultz are both hell-bent on
proving a point.
 Caleb, who left the rink before we did after our afternoon practice, is
already behind the register. When he spots us, he scowls at both of my
friends and flips them off. He was antagonizing them the entire time during
practice, too.
“Sup, Jennings!” Schultz salutes him as we make our way towards a
booth.
“Fuck off!”
The café isn’t full today, though some heads turn towards us. There are a
few laughs, shaking of heads, then they brush it off—probably thinking it
was some weird jock thing. I offer to get Rhys and Schultz’s drinks and
make my way over to Caleb.
His friend, Maddox, has just arrived as well and is pulling a stool by the
bar. Caleb’s already handing him a drink before he’s even sat down.
“Hey there, Maddox,” I murmur.
He nods at me, smiling. “Hey.”
Caleb folds his arms and glares at me as I step up to the register.
“They won’t budge,” I mumble to him after he’s taken our orders.
Unsurprisingly, I’m still unable to look at him in the eyes. “Maybe you
should just apologize. You don’t even have to mean it, but at least they’ll
quit it.”
He hisses, “Apologize for what, exactly?”
“The pranks.”
Caleb leans against the counter and peers at me. “Do they even know
what the pranks were for, Nicky?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t want to tell them why we fought.”
“Exactly. It’s none of their business.”
Sighing, I pull out my wallet, but Caleb brushes me away.
“My treat,” he says.
My heart does an odd, swooning motion. “T-thanks.”
When I turn away from the register, I hear Maddox ask Caleb, “What
happened? Please don’t tell me you actually started a prank war.”
I slide back into the booth where Rhys and Schultz are watching some
hockey clips, and I knock on the table to get their attention. “The bed,” I
say.
“Shut uuup,” Schultz groans. “If I hear that word one more time, I’m
going to lose my shit.”
“So give it back.”
 “Not until he apologizes,” Rhys reiterates for the millionth time. Then his
eyebrows clash together as if something in his brain clicks. Rhys frowns
and cocks his head at me. “Wait, where did Jennings sleep last night?”
“Huh?” I ask, taken off-guard.
“Where did Jennings—”
“Here you go,” Caleb suddenly interrupts.
Oh, that was quick. I wonder if he started on our usual orders even before
we came, like how he does for Maddox. Problem is, he’s only holding one
drink. Caleb places an iced latte in front of me then puts his hands on his
hips and grins down at our table.
Rhys and Schultz stare at him.
“Where’s ours?” Schultz asks.
He bluntly replies, “I’m refusing service.”
“What the hell?”
“Stop with your bullshit, and I’ll give you your drinks.”
“Uncool. Where’s your manager?” Schultz looks behind Caleb, and
suddenly sucks in a breath when he sees… Maddox, I think? “And for the
love of god, can you please introduce me to your friend?”
“My manager’s not around.” Frowning, Caleb narrows his eyes. “I’m not
introducing you to Maddox.”
“Maddox,” Schultz repeats slowly, gazing at Maddox with an intensity
I’ve never seen on him before. “He’s seriously the prettiest person I’ve ever
seen in my life. Is he into guys?”
“Save your breath. Maddox doesn’t do jocks.”
“But he’s into guys?”
Caleb doesn’t deny it, though his frown deepens, and he snaps his fingers.
“Focus. My bed.”
Rolling his eyes, Rhys says, “God, you’re insufferable.”
“Don’t make me tell my uncle you’re hazing me, because I’m sure he
won’t stand for this shit. Bet it’d be a horrible look on you, Captain.”
Rhys scoffs. “We’re not hazing you, dumbass. Literally all you need to do
is apologize and you get your stupid bed back, and you’ve done more
unhinged shit than this. Also, where’d you sleep last night?”
“Huh?”
“You sleep on the floor?”
Schultz suddenly slams the table, startling all of us. “You slept beside
Sandoval, didn’t you?”
 “No way.” Rhys clasps a hand over his mouth and laughs. “That’s a
punishment all on its own, too. Did he beat you up in your sleep?”
I narrow my eyes at Rhys. “Will you please shut up—”
“Yeah, actually.” Caleb crosses his arms and stares down at Rhys. “How
the hell do you share a bed with him? I think I have bruises everywhere.”
Schultz bursts out laughing.
I scrub my hands over my face. “I offered to stay at Rhys’s and you said
no!”
Laughing, Rhys says, “The trick is to shove a pillow between you two
and if that doesn’t work, just roll him off the bed. He’ll sleep on the floor
and won’t even notice.”
“Gee, thanks,” I tell him dryly.
“Does that mean you’re planning on sleeping beside each other again
tonight?” Schultz asks.
“Maybe, because I don’t plan on apologizing,” Caleb says, and my heart
jumps. I blush and duck my head, suddenly very interested in my drink.
Walking backwards, Caleb flips my friends off again. He says, “Need to
work. Bye, dipshits.”
He flashes a grin that’s directed only to me, and I don’t like the way
Rhys’s eyebrows lift. Cheeks flushed, I pretend not to see my best friend’s
inquisitive expression. I snap my attention to the floor-length windows and
watch students walking past the café.
“Aww, man,” Schultz suddenly whines.
Rhys asks, “What?”
“Someone’s hitting on the Maddox guy.”
I ignore them, trying to wrap my head around the fact that Caleb might
sleep in my bed again, while also trying to come to terms with the fact that
he genuinely doesn’t seem bothered by what happened this morning.
It’s messing me up and he doesn’t seem to care.
My mind reels back to how annoyed he sounded when he pushed me off
this morning, and how he got out of my bed in a rush. I can’t stop spiraling
from the mortification.
“He’s not hitting on Maddox,” Rhys says. “He’s hitting on Jennings.”
My head swivels to where Caleb is and, like Rhys said, a now familiar
guy—Dex, the guy Caleb had in our dorm room—is leaning over the bar
and talking to Caleb. Maddox is right next to them, though he doesn’t look
interested in their conversation, and my gut twists when Dex puts his hand
over Caleb’s and laughs.
I see red. Why do I see red?
“You good, Nick?” Rhys asks, studying me closely.
“Yes,” I mumble, looking away from the flirting that’s going on and
instead focusing on Schultz. He hasn’t stopped staring at Maddox since he
first noticed him. I’ve always found this aspect of Schultz incredibly
impressive. He sees someone he finds interesting, and he doesn’t hide it.
Unlike me, who can never voice what I want.
And it’s getting really hard denying to myself that what I want is Caleb,
because I can’t stop thinking about last night—how his throat bobbed every
time I stared at his lips, how he kept smiling at me, and how soft he spoke
while we were in the darkness of our room.
And how he sagged in my hold this morning—right before he bolted.
I go silent again and stare at my hands.
In my peripheral vision, Caleb and Dex are still speaking.
Is that his type? Dex is taller and bulkier than me, and now that I’ve had
the chance to get a closer look at him, I recognize him from one of my
classes and some parties Jessie’s dragged me to. He’s friendly, charismatic,
and popular with both men and women. Everyone must want someone like
him—and Caleb probably agrees, judging from how he’s not pulling away
from his touch.
Unlike how he pried me off him this morning.
Someone nudges my foot, and I blink at Rhys. He cocks his head at me.
As usual, he’s perfectly in tune with me and knows when my thoughts are
clouding me.
“Nick?” he asks.
“The bed,” I say, my voice clipped. “Put his bed back, guys. I know you
want him to apologize, but it was my fault, and we’ve hashed it out. The
pranks were because we fought, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
Because it’s humiliating.
I don’t want to tell them how I accidentally made Caleb feel bad for who
he is, and I also don’t want them to know about how I spilled my heart out
to him in a drunken stupor.
“Give him the damn bed back,” I repeat harshly, and my friends exchange
puzzled looks with each other. Before they can say anything else, I tack on,
“I’m going to head back.”
 “Take your coffee,” Rhys reminds me, and I grab the latte that Caleb
made too sweet for me, because he knows that’s how I enjoy it.
Because he’s thoughtful like that. Honestly, Caleb can be really nice, and
I may just be obsessed with having him as a friend.
Still, our friendship’s rocky, and I can’t afford to let it crash over
something nonsensical like a missing bed.

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 17

Caleb

M addox convinces me to go to the library with him, where he buries his

nose in books. He doesn’t even talk to me, though he’s always been
like this—he enjoys having someone he knows close by, even if it’s silent.
It helps him focus. I don’t get it, but it’s whatever.
I’m bored out of my mind, but I shut up and play games on my phone,
waiting for him like the awesome friend I am.
It’s almost nine p.m. when he finally slams his books closed and
announces that it’s time to head back. Thank fuck. Maddox’s dorm is on the
other side of the campus, and I walk him back because his books are too
heavy. For someone who proclaims to not like jocks, he has no issue
benefiting from my strength and stamina.
When I finally make it back to my dorm room, it’s dark and there’s a
Nick-sized lump on his bed. He turned in early today, apparently, but I’m
much more surprised by the fact that my bed frame’s still fucking empty.
Pissed off, I get ready for bed and debate whether I should just go talk to
the resident assistant. He probably has an extra bed I can take, but then he’d
ask questions and I’m sure one thing would lead to another. Rhys and
Schultz would probably get into trouble—and snitching isn’t really my
style.
I should just swallow my ego and go talk to Rhys.
Or, maybe, I can squeeze between the wall and Nick again…?
 It’s wrong, though.
I can’t keep invading Nick’s space like that, especially after this morning.
The guy looked horrified when he realized he was hugging me and pressing
his dick against my back.
Was he thinking of someone else?
But he had said my name. His sleepy mind somehow knew it was me.
“Get it together, you delusional moron,” I mutter at my reflection.
I head out of the bathroom and quietly make it to the door, defeated and
ready to face Rhys.
“Caleb?” a hoarse voice asks. Nick stirs in his bed and sits up and pulls at
the curtains, opening it enough to let light from the streetlamps outside in so
we can see each other. It casts an orange glow against his features.
Beautiful, really. Not that I can ever admit that to anyone.
“Hey. Sorry, did I wake you? I’m heading out.”
He’s silent and unmoving for a long while. When he doesn’t say anything
else, I shrug and reach for the door.
“To Dex’s?” he suddenly asks, and my hand freezes.
“Huh? Dex’s?”
“Yeah. Um. I can leave if you want to hang out with him here. I guess I
owe it to you.”
My eyebrows clash together, and I work my jaw, trying to figure out what
the fuck he’s talking about. When it finally clicks, I let out a surprised
laugh. “You think I’m heading out to hook up with Dex, and you’re offering
our room? Where would we even mess around? Your bed?”
He huffs and lies back down, turning away from me. “Forget it.”
“Huh?” I can’t help but laugh again. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
Normally, hearing that stupid word nothing would set me off, but he’s
acting like such a petulant kid that I can’t even be annoyed. I clasp my hand
over my mouth and shake with silent laughter, then walk over to him. He
doesn’t budge when I poke him.
“Nicky,” I say.
“It’s nothing. Let it go.”
“Why are you grumpy?”
“Leave me alone.”
All right, now that annoys me. I pull the pillow from underneath him and
he yelps when I smack it across his head.
 He sits up and grabs his pillow. “Caleb!”
“Tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I said it’s nothing.” He groans in a way that suspiciously sounds like a
whine. Nick lies back and presses the pillow against his face.
I’m quiet for a moment, trying to make sense of things. Is he angry at me
about something? I backtrack and replay our conversation, and—
“Nicky,” I say, much gentler than I intended. “Are you jealous because of
Dex?”
“Stop,” he says, and that’s definitely a whine this time.
He must have seen Dex earlier at the café, chatting me up at the counter.
Yeah, Dex was being all touchy and chatty, but I hadn’t really been paying
attention because I was strategizing Schultz and Rhys’s downfall in my
head. He had asked me if I wanted to meet up again sometime and I told
him I was too busy with hockey and work—not really, but I don’t feel like
hanging out with him any time soon—and he backed off.
I stare at Nick. “Aw, you really are a clingy friend, aren’t you?”
It’s actually… fuck, okay, it’s adorable.
God, I need to get my head checked.
He murmurs, “Please stop.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, taking pity on him. I don’t get what’s going on with
him, but it doesn’t seem like he understands it either, with how defeated he
sounds. “I’m not meeting up with Dex, but I’ll be right back.”
Nick pulls the pillow down and meets my eyes, and my heart does a
funny thing with how he’s looking at me, all soft and hopeful. His lower lip
juts out in a pout when he asks, “Where?”
“Morgan’s.”
His face falls once more. “Seriously? No offense, but I don’t think Rhys
sees you that way—”
I grab the pillow from him again and smack him again, much harder this
time. “I’m going to grovel for my bed, you dumbass, not hooking up with
him. I’ll tell him I apologized to you, and you’d better back me up if he
asks.”
“You said you didn’t want to do that.”
“I don’t, but we can’t share a bed again.”
He winces, and I instantly regret my choice of words.
Nick croaks, “I’m sorry about this morni—”
“Not what I meant.”
 “But—”
“It’s fine.” I don’t want him to feel bad about this morning’s accident. It
wasn’t his fault. “We don’t have to talk about it.”
Hurt flashes across his face again, making me feel like I kicked a puppy.
I’m getting frustrated now, at a total loss of what exactly he wants to hear
from me.
After all these weeks being at close proximity with him, I can’t say that
I’ve learned to read Nick a hundred percent, though there are a few things
I’ve figured out.
I’ve learned that he never asks for things because I think he somehow
believes it makes him a burden, but then he gets genuinely happy when I do
shit for him—like bring him back snacks, make his iced latte with an extra
pump of sweetener, or when I wait for him after practice.
And I’ve also learned that he deliberately lies about his feelings, which I
think relates to him never asking for things.
But even if Nick’s not vocal with words, he wears his heart on his sleeve.
He feels too much, and he has a hard time hiding it. That means when he’s
genuinely happy, I can tell.
And I can also tell when he’s genuinely upset… such as right now.
My jaw ticks because I know that if I ask him again what’s the actual
issue is here, he’s only going to deflect and deny. If guessing games were a
real sport, Nick Sandoval would be the reigning champion.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
“No,” he says immediately, as I expected, but he’s still looking at me as if
he’s lost in his thoughts. I can’t stand it.
“Are you angry I slept in your bed?” I ask.
“No.”
“Is it about Dex?”
“No.”
I clench my fists. “Then what is it?”
“Nothing.”
Don’t get angry, don’t get angry.
“Nicky,” I say carefully. “I’m trying really hard to read you, but you need
to meet me halfway here.”
When he doesn’t reply, I pinch the bridge of my nose and give up.
“Fine,” I snap. “Be right back. I need to say this though—you really test
me sometimes.”
 The last part’s uncalled for, but I’ve never said I’ve been good at
controlling my temper. The anger in me simmers, and I need to get out of
here because if I lash out, Nick will run away again.
I’m turning away when Nick murmurs, “You mess me up, Caleb.”
“What the hell did I do?”
“I don’t know who I am around you.”
“What’s that, a riddle?” What is happening? Just a few minutes ago, I
thought it was cute how sulky he was being. This morning, we were sharing
a bed, and he had his arms around me. Now, we’re once again on totally
different pages and it’s irritating how we can’t find a middle ground. I
grumble, "Jesus, Nick. This tug-of-war you keep playing is exhausting.”
“Caleb—”
Oh, god. I can practically feel the usual word vomit I can’t control when
I’m well and truly pissed. It’s a pain in my lungs, clawing its way out, and I
can’t stop. “You practically beg me to be your friend, then you push me
away.”
“I do want to be your friend.”
“Fucking act like it, then. Your hot and cold personality is driving me
nuts.” Running a hand through my hair, I grit my teeth and spit out, “What,
do you need to get drunk again so we can have an actual conversation about
feelings? You going to kiss me again while you’re at it?”
Nick freezes. Time stops. I suck in a surprised breath.
“I kissed you?” he asks, voice barely audible.
“Uh.”
He gets up, blinking rapidly. “Caleb? I kissed you?”
In the seconds it takes me to respond, I mentally go through all the swear
words in my vocabulary. Nick stares at me with huge, pleading eyes, and I
let out an exhale. I mumble, “Yes, then you forgot all about it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I thought that was a dream.”
“Because you’re impossible to read. You lose your mind even if you lose
a smidgen of your precious control. What would you have done if you
found out your straight ass got drunk and kissed your roommate? You
would have freaked out.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Caleb.”
“What? I’m serious. This is exhausting. Give it a rest and be honest for
once in your life.”
 His eyes snap open and he grabs me by the front of my shirt, and I’m just
about to shove him away when he does the last thing I ever expected.
He slams his mouth against mine.
What the?
I lose all the fight in me, and Nick steps away with a horrified look on his
face. His jaw drops and a blush creeps across his cheeks to his neck.
“I-I’m sorry,” he stammers.
I blink at him and put a finger up to my lips, touching it and feeling out of
my element.
Once again, Nick Sandoval rearranged my entire universe.
It takes a good moment for my brain to catch up with reality. All the
while, Nick looks as if he’s about to have a full-blown panic attack.
And then I do what makes sense—I fist my hand in his hair and yank him
closer, smashing our mouths together once more.

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 18

Nick

C aleb kisses with the same intensity he handles life with—confident,

aggressive, and he doesn’t hold back. I don’t know what the hell came
over me, and I’m never going to figure it out now because I don’t think I’m
going to survive this.
He holds my hair tight and the pain stings, and not unpleasantly.
“You’re so fucking irritating,” Caleb hisses between kisses. “I don’t know
if I want to knock you out or fuck you.”
I choke in surprise, heat surging through me, and he bites down on my
lip.
He’s a really good kisser. I wish we had done this earlier—wish I got
over myself and just asked if what I thought was a dream really happened.
Caleb pulls at my hair again. His mouth’s hot and wet and he tastes so
good, and my whole body feels like it’s on fire.
He says something against my mouth, and I think he’s calling my name,
but I don’t want to stop kissing him. It’s official. I’m addicted, and we’ve
barely even done anything. So I take another leap and dart my tongue
between his lips, and he opens them willingly, moaning when I explore his
mouth.
But then Caleb seems to come to his senses, and he pulls away, and I stop
myself from chasing after him. For a moment, he simply holds my gaze, his
breaths coming in quick successions.
 “This is why you were being all pissy!?” he half yells. “Because you
wanted to make out? You could have just asked!”
Oh, my god. I scrub a hand over my face, embarrassment coursing
through me.
“I thought you were straight?” he asks.
“Apparently not.”
“You ever do anything with a guy before?”
I shake my head, and my face drops. “Is that a problem?”
He blinks at me as if startled by my question. “No, Nicky. I’m only trying
to figure out where your head is at because I don’t want to do anything
you’re not comfortable with.”
Fuck. My heart soars. That easily, something in me settles. I grab the
front of his shirt, fingers curling around the soft material, needing to put my
hands on him somehow.
“Caleb,” I murmur, smiling. “You’re really sweet.”
“Am not,” he grumbles, then leans in and kisses me again.
His lips are intoxicating. At the moment, I only want to taste him. Again
and again.
My nerves are going haywire, mostly because kissing a guy’s so foreign
to me. It’s amazing, but it’s also new. He kisses with more force than
anyone I’ve ever been with, and my whole body becomes pliant, melting
under his touches.
He’s a lot more confident but he doesn’t seem to care, leading me with a
hand fisted in my hair. When he pushes me to sit down on the bed to
straddle me, I suck in a breath.
He’s as hard as I am, and when he bucks against me, I let out a strangled
whine.
And that’s… yeah. I like that. Warmth jolts through me and my dick
twitches, and Caleb pulls back to give me the smuggest smirk I’ve ever
seen on him. It makes me flush, embarrassed by how desperately I’m
acting.
“Look at you letting go,” he teases, trailing a thumb across my lip. “My
prim and proper golden boy isn’t able to hold back. I like it. Good boy.”
I glower at him. “Don’t call me that.”
“You’re blushing. You like being called a good boy?”
“No,” I say with no bite, my cheeks heating even more.
 He laughs and pulls me close again, kissing me open-mouthed. My hands
circle around him and bunch into the back of his shirt.
Grinning against my mouth, Caleb moves his hips against mine, and I
clutch at him tightly.
I’m so hard, and I want more.
“Lie down,” he rasps, and he pushes me down on the bed and climbs on
top of me. I’m dazed as I watch him, studying his face, searching for the
fascinating green in his mostly blue eyes. It’s too dim to see it clearly, but I
can’t complain because he’s this close to me, and that’s all I actually want.
Caleb ruts against me, and I grit my teeth and trail my hands down his
back, feeling the ridges of his spine. He murmurs, “What do you want,
Nicky?”
It takes too long to register his question.
I don’t know, exactly. All I know is that there’s a fire simmering
underneath my skin, and I don’t know what to do about it. He continues to
rock against me, staring down at me darkly, and I’m moving against him as
well. It’s not enough, though. I need—
Loud knocks hammer against our door, and we both freeze.
“Nick!” calls Rhys’s voice.
“What the hell?” Caleb hisses.
He scowls and glares at the door, and I close my eyes and wish Rhys goes
away. My brain reels from the whiplash of getting interrupted.
“Nick!” Rhys calls again. “Open up!”
Caleb directs his glare at me before he gets up, stumbling off the bed. He
adjusts himself in his sweatpants and grumbles curses under his breath.
Frowning, I sit up and swing my feet over the side of my bed.
Rhys bangs the door. “I swear to God, open up or I’m using my key.”
“Why does he even have a key?” Caleb asks, sounding very pissed off.
“You good?”
He eyes me as I adjust myself as well, then I give him a jerky nod.
Caleb marches over to the light switch and turns it on, and the sudden
brightness makes me press my palms against my eyes. He opens the door
and snaps, “What!?”
“What took you so long to answer?”
“We were sleeping, asshole.”
“Whatever. Here’s your mattress,” Rhys says crossly, and when I finally
come to my senses, he’s dragging it inside the room. Caleb bites his cheek
and watches him, not even helping him put it back on his bed frame.
“Thanks,” I mumble to Rhys, because Caleb seems hell-bent on not
saying anything else to him.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys says. “You sounded genuinely pissed about it, which
is unlike you, so here it is.” Rhys turns to Caleb. “A simple apology could
have solved this much sooner.”
Caleb flips him off.
“Anyway.” Rhys ignores him and gestures for me to move aside. “My
roommate has someone over and their noise is keeping me up. Can I crash
here?”
I stare. “Uh.”
Rhys frowns. I’ve never turned him down before, and he studies me and
says, “If you don’t want me to, then I’ll go. I just really need some shut-eye
because of our away game tomorrow.”
“Why’s it matter?” Caleb asks from behind him. “Not like you bring
anything to the team.”
“You realize I’m the captain, right?”
“Congratulations, you have a label.”
I roll my eyes, not in the mood to listen to their bickering. “Caleb, you
mind if Rhys crashes here?”
Say yes. Say yes.
“The hell I care?” Caleb asks, and when I look around Rhys to see what
he’s doing, he’s rearranging his pillows. “But, Captain, pull something like
this again, and I’m punching you in the throat.”
“So scared,” Rhys deadpans, and he gets on my bed, pushing himself
towards the other side. He turns toward the wall, and I get up to get the
lights.
My hand hovering over the light switch, I turn to Caleb.
Caleb’s lying on his bed, his arm behind his head. He glares at me and my
gaze drops to his mouth—still wet and bruised from what we did, and his
hair’s a mess, and his cheeks are still flushed. I wonder if I look the same,
and if Rhys noticed at all. He didn’t seem suspicious, so maybe he missed
it.
“Sorry,” I mouth at Caleb, and his scowl deepens.
Is he angry? I can’t have him angry at me again. It fucking messes with
me.
 I must look pathetic, because Caleb sits up. His expression softens, and
he glances at Rhys’s back before crooking a finger at me.
“Come here,” he mouths, and when I do, he pulls me down by the front
of my shirt and kisses me—gently and slowly, as if any sudden movements
would wake Rhys. Then he pats my cheek as if I’m a puppy and whispers,
“Good boy.”
I choke in surprise and Caleb grins wickedly.

***

The curtains being yanked open jolts me awake, and then harsh sunlight hits
my face.
“Wakey wake, sleeping beauties!” Caleb yells, way too loudly.
Beside me, Rhys curses. “Seriously, Jennings!?”
“We’re going against my old team. No slacking off, Captain.”
“The bus isn’t leaving until later!”
“Tough luck,” Caleb says.
I rub my eyes and peer at Caleb. His hair’s wet from an early shower and
he’s already changed into workout clothes. I ask, “Where are you going?”
“For a jog.” Caleb mock-salutes us and leaves. Just like that. After
waking us up for no apparent reason.
“He woke us up to mess with us, didn’t he?” Rhys mumbles.
Nodding, I stand up and stretch my arms. “Yeah, looks like it.”
He seemed antsy. Maybe going against his old team has him worked up.
“You two are getting along better, huh?” Rhys yawns, and it’s a good
thing I’m facing away from him because my face heats at his question. I
don’t respond, and Rhys doesn’t say anything about it.
The bed dips as Rhys gets up, smacking me lightly on the arm.
“Thanks for letting me crash here,” he says.
“Sure,” I say absently. My mind’s already drifted elsewhere. Specifically,
I’m thinking about Caleb. I’m only vaguely aware of Rhys opening the door
and heading out.
Once Rhys is gone, I look over to Caleb’s side of the room. His side’s
neat, as usual. The bed’s made and his desk is clear. It’s funny to me that
despite him being a neat freak, everything else about him is pure chaos.
He’s so far from the type of person I usually date.
 All my exes were, in Caleb’s own terms, prim and proper like me—not
that I actively sought that out in someone. It was probably only a
coincidence.
If I had to explain my past relationships, they were all very calm. I don’t
even remember fighting with any of my exes, or getting so upset that I’d
self-destruct and inhale tequila on a school night.
Like Jessie said, even when I caught her cheating, I didn’t have a strong
reaction.
Caleb’s able to bring out someone in me I don’t recognize.
He’s different from what I’m used to, and not only because he’s a guy—
though I’m finding out that this little detail doesn’t alarm me as much as I’d
expect. I always thought that if I ever had to unpack my attraction to men, it
would be a huge eureka moment, but no.
It is what it is.
Though it bothers me how inexperienced I am with men. My face burns
at how Caleb had taken control, and I followed his lead. Even if he didn’t
seem to mind, I’m nervous that if we continue with whatever this is, he’ll
get bored with me before anything’s even happened.
Sighing, I force myself to stop overthinking and distract myself with
schoolwork.
I pass the hours by finishing some of my papers. By the time I’m done,
it’s already time to get ready and meet Rhys and Schultz downstairs. We’re
carpooling to the rink where the bus is waiting to take us to Michigan for a
game. I’m already dreading the nearly six-hour bus ride, but maybe that
would be enough time for me to unpack what happened last night.
Who am I kidding? I’m never going to be able to unpack last night’s
events.
I’m not sure where Caleb is, but I’m not worried—I’m sure he won’t
miss the bus. His uncle would kill him.
Schultz smirks at me when he sees me. “I hear Morgan here caved and
brought Jennings’s mattress back.”
“Nick was being too sulky,” Rhys says, leading the way to his car.
“Schultz, I have a question,” I suddenly blurt out, and he turns to me. He
stops walking, and I mimic him, and Rhys does as well. “It’s random, but I
don’t know who else to ask.”
Schultz waves a hand. “Shoot.”
 Might as well just rip the Band-Aid off. These two are my closest friends
and I trust them not to judge me.
I clear my throat and ask, “You’re into guys, right?”
Schultz, bless him, doesn’t even hesitate. “I’m pan, so yeah. Why?”
I stare at him, hesitating.
He asks, “Not as straight as you thought?”
Over his shoulder, Rhys gives me an intense look. Schultz gives me a
moment to articulate myself, but when I’m unable to come up with
anything, he says, “You don’t have to right now, but if you want to talk
about it, I’m here.”
His reassurance floods me with warmth, especially since I’m the one who
brought it up. Smiling, I say, “I’m not as straight as I thought. I guess the
right term’s bi?” I chew my bottom lip for a while before adding, “I’m into
someone, but I’m lost about how it works.”
“About how what works?”
“Uh...”
“Sex with another guy?”
My face flames, but I nod.
“Porn,” he says bluntly, and Rhys wheezes. “Though, wait, that shit’s not
so accurate… Reddit? Quora? You can ask me if you want, I don’t mind,
though it would probably be better if you asked the guy you’re actually
into, especially if you trust him. Some dudes are into that thing, anyway.
Teaching and all that. Besides, it’s not even that complicated. You’re a guy
and you know what feels good to you, so just reciprocate, and if it goes into
unchartered territory, then be honest about it.”
“I didn’t realize you were so… wise.”
Schultz punches me, and I laugh, and when I glance over at Rhys, I
realize he’s too quiet. His chin’s tucked into his chest and his ears are red,
and of course, I don’t call him out on it. I know he’s not judging me.
Honestly, I know he’s figuring things out for himself out as well. Rhys is
into his brother’s best friend, even if he’s never outright told me. He avoids
Isaac as much as he can, and his brother thinks it’s indifference, but I know
better.
As if sensing me staring, Rhys meets my eyes, and I flash him a grin. He
returns it, even if unsurely.
“Love you, man,” he says. “Thanks for trusting us with this.”
“Aww, my heart,” Schultz singsongs, and I let out a laugh.
OceanofPDF.com
 19

Caleb

I ’m mostly quiet the entire bus ride to Michigan, and when we finally get
there, there’s a knot in my throat as I stare at my old home rink.
During warm-ups, a few of my buddies skate up to the red line and call
me over, bumping fists with me and all that shit. They seem thrilled to see
me, which I get—I’m a fucking delight.
Though, as expected, not everyone’s so happy to see me. Luca, the guy I
used to hook up with, glowers at me as he skates by. He’s a petty guy, but so
am I, and I grin wide and lift my glove at him. Luca can’t see it, but I’m
flipping him off.
I can’t let anyone know that he’s making me antsy, so I plaster on a fake
smile that would rival Nick’s.
“You seem to be in a good mood,” Rhys tells me when we get into
position for the face-off.
“Yup.” When I direct my attention to our opponents, I see that Luca’s
opposite Nick. “Oh, shit, good for you!” I yell out at him. “I see you got
your old spot back when I left!”
“Fuck off, Jennings!”
“Knock it off,” Rhys tells me, and I grin wickedly at him.
Nick locks eyes with me. He smiles, and I can’t help but smirk back at
him. In typical Nick fashion, he doesn’t wipe his smile off, even when he
turns to Luca.
 “What are you smiling about?” Luca snipes at him, and I resist the urge to
lunge at him.
Ironically, I was the one annoyed by Nick’s habits not long ago.
I’m not sure if Nick replies to him—I think he ignores him completely.
And since I know how irritating Nick’s nonchalance can be, I can’t help but
snicker as I get into position for the face-off.
As soon as the puck drops, my adrenaline spikes.
Our dear captain Rhys, despite how I talk shit about him whenever I can,
is actually pretty good. He wins the face-off and we’re off to a great start
even if we’re against a team—my old team!—that was last year’s
champions.
We’re able to keep up, mostly because Nick and Rhys’s chemistry is
amazing. Maybe my uncle was onto something forcing me to be their
linemate, because I do well playing alongside them too.
By the third period, the score’s 3-2 in our favor, and I can tell that it’s
getting on my old team’s nerves. They’re struggling, and I’m fucking proud
of us for giving them so much trouble. Luca’s face turns red when Vega
blocks another one of his shots, and the other guys have turned quiet.
My mood shifts quickly, though, when I have the puck and somebody
checks me into the boards way harder than necessary. I scowl when I realize
it’s Luca, and then they’re able to take the puck away and get it right past
Vega and into the net.
Fuck.
Luca gives me a shit-eating grin, and for the first time tonight, anger
courses through me.
Nick nudges me. “You okay?”
I don’t know what kind of fucking magic this guy has over me, but the
fight leaves me immediately.
There’s a bark of laughter in front of us, and I realize Luca’s watching. I
must have been smiling way too softly at Nick or some shit, because Luca
immediately picks up on it.
The dipshit doesn’t even hesitate. With a sneer, he says, “No fucking way.
Seriously? You really move fast, don’t you, Caleb?”
I lift my eyebrows. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Luca grins at Nick, who looks lost. “You know he’ll drop you as soon as
he gets what he wants, right?”
 Nick’s shoulders stiffen. Without waiting for a response, Luca skates
away, laughing loudly.
I’m going to kill Luca.
“I’m guessing he’s the guy you mentioned before,” Nick murmurs to me,
too low for anyone else to hear.
“Yep,” I say dryly.
Poor Nick. After that, Luca targets him any chance he gets, and I see him
mumbling something at Nick a few times. Nick doesn’t bother responding,
though he’s lost his smile, and his jaw’s clenched. Fuck.
Whatever Luca’s saying, I can see it’s getting to Nick.
Nick, who almost never makes a mistake, fumbles with the puck and
Luca easily takes it from him.
“What happened?” asks Rhys. He seems bewildered, shooting Nick a
look.
“Sorry,” grunts Nick.
With only a few minutes left on the clock, we’re tied, and the pressure on
everyone’s evident. My mood drops even more when, during another
stoppage in play, Luca’s mumbling something to Nick again.
Irritation consumes me. Skating up to them, I shout, “Stop talking to
him!”
Luca grins widely. “Just telling him the truth about you, babe.”
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
“Caleb.” Nick attempts to separate us.
“Please,” Luca scoffs. He lowers his voice so that only Nick and I can
hear. “You loved my fucking mouth when it was wrapped around your
cock.”
I blink at him, caught off-guard. His words stun me enough that I don’t
even notice Nick pull away from me.
Rhys yells Nick’s name just as Nick drops his stick and shakes his gloves
off, and next thing I know, Nick throws a punch at Luca.
“Fuck you!” Luca yells, staggering backwards. He retaliates immediately,
and everything that happens next is utter chaos.
When I finally snap out of it, Luca’s gotten a good hit back at Nick. I’m
about to lunge at Luca when Schultz gets to me first and blocks my path.
And for the first time in his life, Nick gets thrown out of a game.
 ***

So, we ended up losing, and my uncle’s livid.

Rhys keeps trying to get an explanation out of Nick, asking him what
Luca did to provoke that. Our captain only backs off when we’re getting on
the bus and Nick pulls his headphones on.
The entire trip to the hotel we’re staying at tonight, I keep glancing back
at Nick. He’s seated a few rows behind me and is leaning back with his eyes
shut. While Luca looked way worse than him, there’s a cut on Nick’s
eyebrow and a bruise forming on his cheekbone. Yikes.
Nick’s quiet and surly even when we get to the lobby and the equipment
manager hands out our keycards. He moves quick too, because before I
realize it, he’s already leaving. I just see a glimpse of him as the elevator
doors close.
Ugh. I loosen my tie and walk up to Rhys. “Morgan.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “What?”
“Let’s swap rooms.”
“Huh? No way. What’s wrong with Vega?”
“Nothing, I barely know the guy. I want to room with Nick.”
“Why?”
“Uh. I’m superstitious?”
Rhys’s mouth twitches as if he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “Care
explaining?”
“First match we lose this season, and it just so happens you messed up
last night’s sleeping arrangements. Literally the only thing that changed in
Nick’s routine, and he’s out there punching people for the first time in his
life.”
“You’re saying Nick got kicked out because I slept beside him?”
“Exactly. Never do that again.”
“You realize I’ve crashed in his room countless of times and we’ve
always roomed together on away games, right?” He throws back his head
and laughs, then reaches into his pocket and slams his keycard into my
chest. “Whatever. Give me your keycard.”
“Sweet. Thanks.”
“Make sure he gets up in the morning. He’ll miss the bus if you don’t tell
him to move.” He turns away and mumbles, “You’re both so obvious.”
 Not sure what he means by that, and I don’t care.
When I get to the room, Nick’s lying on the bed closer to the windows.
He hasn’t even changed out of his suit. He’s glaring at the ceiling as if it
committed a crime against him, and when he spots me enter, Nick sits up
and pulls his headphones off.
“Where’s Rhys?” he asks.
“I swapped rooms with him.”
“Seriously?”
“What, you’re not happy?”
Nick gives me a blank look that I can’t decipher, then he shrugs and drops
back on his pillow. I place my bag by the foot of the unoccupied bed, put
away my suit jacket and tie, and walk over to him, looming over his face
and grinning. He looks so cute with his dark hair spread around him, and
the pout that he can’t seem to put away.
The wound on his eyebrow doesn’t look too bad, but up this close, I can
see that the bruise on his cheekbone looks even worse than I thought. I
brush my fingers against the side of his face, and he winces despite how
light my touch is.
“You fought for me,” I tease. “You got kicked out for the first time for
me.”
“Because of you,” he mumbles. Nick narrows his eyes at me and doesn’t
move, even when I sit down on the bed next to him and put a hand flat on
his chest. “I don’t know what got into me. I’ve been losing my temper too
much lately.”
“Because of me?”
“You seem to be the common denominator, yeah.”
I let my hand slip inside his suit jacket, fingers drifting against his chest
and down to his stomach. His abs flex under my touch and I can feel it
despite his shirt acting like a barrier, but other than that, he doesn’t give me
any other reaction.
Seeing him this quiet and upset and remembering how he got thrown out
of a game for me, stirs something in me.
We haven’t kissed since last night or even talked about it, and I should be
confused as fuck, but… I’m not. I lean down over him, close my eyes, and
knock my forehead against his. His breath hitches and he puts a palm on my
waist, simply letting it rest there.
 And when I brush my lips against his, I feel him smile against me, which
was what I hoped for. Then he returns my kiss and tightens his grip against
my shirt. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed anyone so gently before.
Yeah, kissing feels nice, but it’s always felt like a means to an end for me.
I like it because it leads to fucking, and I’ve never really been into the habit
of kissing anyone just so they’d smile.
What’s gotten into me? Even last night, when Nick looked dejected
because he thought Rhys’s presence annoyed me, his face fell, so I kissed
him to cheer him up, despite his best friend being there.
My brain’s working overtime about this.
I sit up and study him. “Are you pissed at me?”
He shakes his head.
“Then what?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbles. “Quick question. Am I going to run into
more of your ex-boyfriends?”
“Not an ex-boyfriend. Luca was more like a… disgruntled ex-
situationship. We fooled around a bit, but it ended badly, and he never really
got over it, especially when our coach gave me his spot on first line.”
“You have a lot of those?”
“A lot of what?”
“Disgruntled ex-situationships.” He rolls the term on his tongue as if he
thinks it’s ridiculous.
“Why? Are you jealous again?”
“Caleb,” he warns.
I grin at him and let my hand drift even lower, towards his belt, and his
throat bobs when I fiddle with the buckle. Nick’s eyes turn dark, and his
stare falls to my mouth.
“No,” I tell him. “Luca's a head case and that won’t happen again, and
I’m sorry that happened.”
His lips part when I graze my hand downward, brushing my knuckles
against the front of his pants. When he doesn’t push me away, I take that as
permission to lightly palm him, and he hardens underneath my touch. My
heart lunges at the knowledge that even when he’s clearly pissed, despite
denying it, he still wants me this much.
Nick bites his lip and groans when I add more pressure against his cock,
but then he grasps me by the wrist, and I stop moving.
 “One more question,” he bites out, and I resist rolling my eyes because I
honestly just want to get his pants off. I put my hand on his thigh, waiting.
I can do without the interrogation, especially since talking about past
hookups is really killing the vibe. But… it’s clear that Nick really needs
this.
“Am I going to end up like Luca?” he asks.
“Huh? What’s that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Hey.”
He lets out a loud exhale and closes his eyes. “He said that you get bored
easily and then throw people away and that there’s an entire list of guys
before me.”
The insinuation that he even remotely believes that kind of annoys me.
And, maybe, hurts my damn feelings. I school my expression, though. “No.
I haven’t had a serious boyfriend in years but it’s not for lack of trying, I
just haven’t clicked that way with anyone in a while. I don’t get bored and
throw anyone away. Luca and I weren’t on the same page, and all those
other guys he’s hinting at? Completely casual.”
Nick stares at me. “You only do casual.”
“Well, mostly, but like I said, I haven’t had a boyfriend because there’s
nobody I’ve clicked with that much. Take Luca, for example. We would’ve
stabbed each other if we even tried to take things further.” I huff a laugh,
attempting to disguise how his questions are pinching at my chest.
Teasingly, I ask, “What, you think I’m a manwhore?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
His lower lip juts out. “I’m possessive.”
This time around, my laugh’s genuine. “Nicky...”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you, and I know this… uh, whatever this
is… between us is new and all, and I don’t want to be a creep and pressure
you into anything. Because I’m not doing that. The things he said messed
with my mind is all.”
“I get it.” I hold his gaze, and Nick’s expression finally softens. “For
what it’s worth, I really like you, which surprises the hell out of me,
because you’re annoyingly high strung. Though, weirdly, it’s kind of
growing on me. We can give this a shot, if you’d like. We don’t even have
to put a label on it… yet.”
 “Even if we don’t put a label on it, I don’t share, Caleb. If we’re doing
this, you can’t be fooling around with anyone else.”
Goddamn. The hardness in his voice makes my dick twitch. “What, you
want to be exclusive?”
Nick chews on his cheek. “I… um. Yes, at least as long as we’re fooling
around. Casual but… exclusive?”
“Okay.”
He smiles. “Also, I like it when you’re honest. It’s sweet.”
“As if you’re ever honest.” I smirk. “And don’t expect me to be this
sappy all the time. This is taking a lot out of me.”
He laughs and reaches up, putting his hand in my hair and tugging me
down to him. The moment our lips meet, the tension in me fizzles out, and
everything seems right again.
“I still can’t believe you got into a fight,” I murmur against his lips.
“What he said was uncalled for.”
“My prince charming,” I tease, and Nick bites down on my lip in
retaliation. The slight pain stuns me, and I laugh in surprise, then Nick pulls
me even closer and nibbles at the spot he bit.
“I may have a bit of a jealousy problem. Never felt the need to act on it
before, though. When he said what he said, I saw red at the thought of
you… doing things with him.”
“You’re possessive and it’s hot,” I say, and his cheeks flare
Grinning, I pull away and climb down his body. His eyes darken and his
throat bobs when I nudge his legs apart and get between his knees, undoing
his belt.
Not tearing my gaze away from him, I say, “I’m going to suck you off,
Nicky. Tell me I can.”
Nick sucks in a breath, then he nods once.

OceanofPDF.com
 20

Nick

C aleb’s lips curve into a cocky smirk. He struggles with my belt for a
moment, and that’s the only sign that he may be nervous, too. It doesn’t
compare with my nervousness though, because my heart is racing at insane
speeds. He must think I’m ridiculous because my hands are shaking against
the bed, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.
Tossing my belt aside, he undoes my button. The sound of my zipper
getting pulled down triggers a slight panic in me because this is happening,
and Caleb must sense it because he stops and studies me.
He just feels so… far away, with him between my legs like this. I should
be into this. I was into it, but now I’m not so sure. I work my lower lip,
trying to figure out my mess of thoughts, and Caleb frowns.
“You sure you want this?” he asks.
“Yes.” I really do despite the way my mind won’t quiet down. I hold
myself up by my elbows so I can get a better look at him and make a sorry
attempt at a smile. My efforts don’t work because Caleb pulls off me.
“Caleb,” I whine.
“New plan,” he says, pushing me back down on the bed and straddling
me instead like he did last night. “Is this better?”
Strangely, it is. A smile spreads across my face, and I nod.
He entangles his hands in my hair and kisses me open-mouthed, and just
like that, my thoughts settle. My nerves calm down and this—this is easier.
There’s comfort in having him on my lap and feeling his warmth on me,
instead of him being so far away.
“Sorry,” I murmur, even if I feel so much more at ease now. I slide my
hand up his sides and cup his neck, kissing him back. “I’m all up in my
head.”
Caleb holds me by my jaw and glares. “Nicky, I know you have some
weird issue speaking up for yourself, but I need you to fucking tell me if
you’re not comfortable with something.”
“Okay.” I know that. Weird thing is, the thought of him blowing me is
incredibly appealing, but when it actually started happening, I realized that
for the first time we do this, I want him as close as possible.
Caleb ruts against me, like the way he did last night—except that it’s not
dark this time around, and I can see his face clearly. I can see the way he
watches me, and when he puts a hand between us and cups me through my
pants, I let out a strangled moan.
Caleb’s eyes darken as he smirks. “This okay?”
I nod.
“I need you to use your words.”
“It’s okay. More than okay.”
“Good boy.”
I glare at him and my cheeks flush. The first time he said that he had been
teasing, but because of how flustered I got, I don’t think he’s ever going to
let up on that stupid nickname. I’m about to tell him to quit it when he slips
his hands down my boxers and wraps long fingers around my dick and
gives it a slow pump, and all thoughts go out the window.
“Fuck,” I groan, throwing my head back.
Caleb pulls my hard cock out, spits into his hand, and jerks me slowly. He
sets a rhythm that drives me insane. He kisses me through it, his elbow right
next to my head to keep himself up, and it takes a moment for the haze to
clear from my mind and I realize that I’m not touching him back. When that
realization hits me, I scramble between us and reach for the button of his
pants.
He laughs. “You don’t have to.”
I ignore him, and despite him saying I don’t have to, his breath hitches
when I undo his pants and pull his hard dick out as well. I’ve never touched
another man like this before and it’s a bit jarring—but not unpleasant—and
I flick my thumb over the crown of his dick and press against the sensitive
nerve under it.
Caleb buckles in surprise. “Damn, Nicky.”
My chest swells at how he says my name, and I sit up so that he doesn’t
need to keep himself propped up by an elbow. Caleb takes a deep breath,
and I watch every brief flicker on his face as we jerk each other off. I listen
to the sounds he makes, quickly learning that he prefers faster and tighter
strokes. It’s not until he lets out a small wince and I remember my hand’s
dry, so I mimic what he did and spit into it, not missing the way his eyes
darken with lust when I do.
Heat travels down my spine and settles in my gut and it feels as if every
inch of my skin’s on fire. Caleb trails his mouth from my jaw to my neck,
and I lift my chin to give him more access.
“Like that,” he murmurs against my skin, biting lightly on my throat.
God, his voice.
A part of me wishes we had taken the time to remove all our clothes so I
can feel his warm skin against mine, but I think he’s as impatient as me
right now, and I’ll take what I can get. I snake my free hand under his shirt
and graze it on his abs, drifting it upward to his nipple. When I discover he
doesn’t have his piercings on—probably because we just came from a game
—I pout, but then I pinch his nipple and Caleb groans.
He rocks against me, fucking into my fist, and I follow his lead. I can
practically feel my world untangling. My mind’s a haze and my heart’s
hammering in my chest as I slowly lose control.
Caleb sucks in a breath and buries his face against my neck, and I inhale
his masculine scent.
There’s a warmth blooming in my chest and it spreads to every inch of
my body, and it’s incredibly overwhelming that I remind myself to breathe.
“Close,” he mumbles against me.
“Me too.” Frantically, I use my free hand to pull both our shirts out of the
way.
Caleb shudders and he bites down on my neck, spilling over my fist, and
the feeling of his warm cum on my hand undoes me completely. I groan and
electricity jolts down my spine, and Caleb works me through my orgasm,
continuing to stroke me, and I do the same for him.
He pulls away, his face red and his light hair sticking to his nape with
sweat. He looks between us and at the mess we did—our abs are sticky with
cum, our dicks wet and glistening, and there’s something unfairly hot about
that. He gets up to grab the box of tissues from the bedside table, tossing it
between us. My hands shake as I wipe myself clean, and then he takes my
dirty tissues, and along with his, tosses it in the wastebasket.
Caleb pats my cheek, but before he can say anything, I say, “Please don’t
call me a good boy.”
Even if I think I really, really like it.
“Okay, Nicky.” He leans down and presses his lips lightly against mine.
Caleb tucks himself inside his pants and then grins at me. “You going to use
the bathroom? You can go first.”
Wow, how times have changed. Just some weeks ago, he’d rush without
even asking and take his sweet time just to annoy me. The thought makes
me smile, and he lifts his eyebrows at me.
“What’re you smiling at?” he asks.
“You can go first… and I’m smiling because you really are a lot sweeter
than you let on.”
He makes a face as if I just insulted his entire being. “Gross,” he says,
before grabbing clothes from his bag and retreating to the bathroom.
It’s true, though. Caleb’s loud and enjoys antagonizing people, but he’s
also thoughtful, and I’m confident his love language is acts of service. It’s
why when I’m at the café, he makes my drinks sweeter than normal even
when I’ve never asked him to. It’s why he remembers everyone’s orders and
starts on them the moment he sees us walk through the door. More than
once, I’ve seen him carrying all of Maddox’s things.
And—I know he’d take this to his grave—that one time Rhys forgot his
usual Gatorade bottle at the dorm and was fretting because it’d mess with
his routine, Caleb bought one from the vending machine outside the rink.
He put it in Rhys’s stall when he wasn’t paying attention and didn’t correct
him when he thanked the equipment manager for it. Caleb insists he hates
Rhys, and he doesn’t make a secret out of it, but if that’s how he treats
someone he claims he hates, then it only shows what kind of a person he
truly is.
I didn’t tell him I saw what he did, but my chest did that funny, warm
thing it does whenever I see a new side of him.
So, yeah. Caleb’s definitely a lot sweeter than he lets on, and it makes my
face heat now that I know it extends to sex as well—he was so attuned to
me, so considerate of my comfort, and not once did he make me feel bad for
the almost freak-out I had.
God. I rub at my sternum and take a deep inhale.
There’s something about Caleb that makes my heart race.
Some minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom in a shirt and
sweatpants, and he glances at me with a yawn before plopping down on his
bed. Caleb stretches out on it, his shirt riding up and showing more skin,
and my dick takes all the interest as if I didn’t just come my brains out.
Snap out of it.
I head to the bathroom to get ready for bed as well. While I’m brushing
my teeth, I hear voices from the room. Caleb’s FaceTiming his sister. She
seems to be telling a story, and he’s laughing along, and the sound of it
makes me smile.
“Here’s Nicky!” Caleb announces when I step out to the room. He angles
the camera to me, and I self-consciously wave at his sister, who scowls at
me.
Their scowls are, honestly, very similar.
Caleb bursts out laughing and turns the camera back to him, and I listen
to them talk as I walk towards my bed. She tells him about how it’s like
going back to school after her long hospital stay, and then Caleb tells her
about our game—he even tells her I punched someone, and I glare at him
for that.
My own phone rings, Dad’s name displayed on the screen.
I accept the call and put the phone against my ear. “Hi, Dad.”
“Nicholas.” Dad sounds worried. “Are you all right?”
“Oh… you watched the game?”
“No, I was at a board meeting, but I got messages about it and my
assistant sent me clips. What happened?”
At the corner of my eye, I see Caleb end his call and put his phone away.
He lies on his side and watches me, not being subtle about how he’s
listening in on my conversation with Dad.
“Um…” I hesitate. “The guy—Luca—was trash talking my teammate,
and I lost my cool. It won’t happen again.”
“What was he saying?”
“Nothing.” There’s silence and I bite my cheek, remembering that Dad
hates that word as much as Caleb does. “Um… no, not nothing. Sorry, Dad,
he said something horrible, and I’d rather not repeat what he said if that’s
all right.”
“I understand. As long as you’re okay.” He lets out a sigh. “This sport of
yours has always been so violent, but you’ve never punched another player
before.”
“Sorry. I made you look bad.”
“I didn’t say that at all,” he says.
“Yeah, but I’m just saying… I won’t get into any more fights.”
“Well, you said you’re quitting hockey soon. I suppose I won’t have to
worry about you getting into fights then or hurting yourself.”
“That’s right.” My chest twists.
“But you love it, right? I still don’t know why you never joined the
draft.”
I close my eyes and ignore the ache in my ribcage. “Hey, Dad, by the
way… are you going to be around for Thanksgiving?”
“Most likely.” He pauses. “You’re changing the subject again, like you
always do when I ask about this.”
“I’m not, I swear. Should I drive home?”
“I’ll check my schedule closer to the date, but yes, that would be nice.”
Dad and I catch up with each other for a while more. I haven’t seen him
since the ribbon cutting at the hospital, and even if punching Luca surely
made him look bad, I’m happy he called.
When we end the call, Caleb’s still watching me.
“I really don’t get it,” Caleb says, and here we go. “Your dad sounds cool.
Have you ever told him you want to try going pro? I can’t imagine he
wouldn’t let you if you wanted to.”
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No, I’ve never told him.”
“So you do want to play pro.”
My jaw ticks. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Caleb frowns. I don’t expect him to understand my decision, and it’s
tiring to have to defend myself. I get enough of that from Rhys and
occasionally, Coach.
“Sorry,” I mumble, even if I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for.
“You say sorry a lot. You said it two times to your dad.”
 He counted? I huff out a laugh at how ridiculous he is, and he smirks.
Fortunately, he drops the topic of me playing after college—though I can
tell it isn’t the last time he’ll be asking about it.
“My sister likes you,” he says, changing the topic.
A laugh escapes me. “She hates me.”
“Nah, she absolutely likes you. That’s the only reason she’s so cold. She
thinks you’re great, and she’s jealous. Probably thinks you’d take me away
from her.” He pauses and his eyes widen. “Oh, she’s like you. She’s
possessive, too.”
“I’m not possessive,” I say, as if I hadn’t outright admitted it about half
an hour ago.
Caleb laughs and abruptly jumps up. He crosses the room to turn the
lights off, then he plops back down on his bed.
It’s disappointing that we’re on separate beds, though sleeping next to
each other would probably be weird since we’re not exactly dating.
We’re only two roommates who are attracted to each other and agreed to
fool around. Casual but… exclusive.
A part of me is relieved that he’s not overcomplicating whatever this is.
He’s not letting any awkwardness linger between us.
“Night, Caleb,” I murmur.
“Night, Nicky.” He yawns and turns away from me, and I stare at the
silhouette of his back for way too long before deciding to get any actual
sleep.

OceanofPDF.com
 21

Caleb

I get up earlier than Nick, as usual. The guy always has a difficult time
getting up in the morning, which was why turning his phone alarms off
was the best prank—I barely had to do anything. He’d probably sleep
through most mornings if he could.
The team’s probably already having breakfast downstairs, so I head to the
bathroom to freshen up and change my clothes. Nick’s alarm is going off
when I step back out to the room, and in classic Nick fashion, he turns it off
and goes right back to sleep.
I throw my pillow at him, ignoring the disgruntled sound he makes.
“Nicky, get up. We need to eat breakfast before the bus leaves.”
“Five more minutes.”
“No, get up. Everyone’s probably eating already, and you haven’t packed
your shit.”
“Caleeeb,” he whines, pulling his blanket down just enough so he can
peer at me with sleepy eyes.
Though I also note that the bruise on his cheekbone has turned into a
slightly darker shade and looks so much worse now. It makes me wince.
“Get up,” I say. “Morgan’s going to kill me if you miss the bus.”
He turns away from me and grumbles, “Since when have you cared about
what Rhys thinks?”
“He won’t let me room with you again on away games if we’re late.”
 Nick makes a noncommittal sound, then after only a few seconds, I
realize he’s fallen back to sleep. That easily.
“Nicky! Get up!” I smack him with a pillow, and he only scoots away
from me. Then I get a brilliant idea. “If you get up and get ready, I’ll jerk
you off once we get back to the dorm.”
His shoulders go stiff, then he slowly turns to me and blinks. Nick’s much
more awake now, a blush creeping up his neck, and he swallows. “What?”
“You heard me.”
His hesitation would offend me if I wasn’t so sure he wants another
round. The sounds he made last night when he came, and how he held me
tight, is how I know he’d want it again. Call me cocky, but I know he can’t
resist me.
“I…” He blinks at me and worries his lower lip. “What if…”
“What?”
“What if”—his voice is barely a whisper, and I strain to hear his words
—“you do the other thing you offered to do last night, instead?”
“Huh?” I stop myself from wheezing. Why’s he so fucking cute? “You
mean blow you?”
Last night, even if he said he wanted that, I could tell he was having
second thoughts when it was actually going to happen. Not sure what that
was about, but it looks like he’s ready to try again, and who am I to say no?
I might just be obsessed with him by this point.
Sue me, he’s hot.
Nick’s face flares and he nods slowly, and I resist the urge to jump him
then and there.
I hold his gaze and smirk. “Fine. Go get ready.”
He scrambles to the bathroom, grinning so widely that it does something
silly to my heart. Nick gets ready in record time, and I watch him as he
quickly pulls his shoes on and hikes his bag over his shoulder.
Then he turns to me and gives me a wide, pleased smile.
I snort. How can I not call him a good boy when he acts like a puppy
preening for compliments?
“Your face looks bad, by the way,” I tell him instead, putting a finger
under his chin and tilting it sideways to get a better look at him. Then my
eyes drift to his neck, where there are small, purplish hickeys. Oops.
He shrugs and opens the door, stepping outside. “It’s fine.”
“Nicky, wait—”
 “Sandoval!” Schultz calls from down the hallway. “You look awful!”
Schultz puts his arm around Nick’s neck and ruffles his hair, even if Nick
tries to pull away.
“Let’s go downstairs before Morgan throws a fit at us being late again,”
Schultz says. “So proud of you—baby’s first fight. What did that guy even
say to you?”
Even if he’s teasing, hearing Schultz call Nick baby annoys me.
Look at that… seems like Nick’s not the only one with a possessive
streak.
I follow them to the elevator where Schultz talks and talks like he usually
does, trying to pry information out of Nick, but Nick expertly dodges his
questions.
All the way to the hotel’s dining room, I have to listen to Schultz badger
Nick. I love the guy, but I’m close to accidentally elbowing his side.
“You’re late!” Rhys says when we finally get there, because of course he
does. The team’s scattered across several tables. My uncle, who’s seated
with the assistant coaches and some of the other staff, nods in our direction.
We pile food onto our plates and Nick cracks a smile when he sees there’s
chocolate syrup to go with the waffles. I’m the last one to reach the table,
and surprisingly, Rhys moves his plate and drink across the table and
transfers next to Schultz to leave the seat next to Nick… for me?
Huh. Well, all right.
Schultz still hasn’t given up on trying to get answers out of Nick. He
points a fork at Nick and says, “You really won’t tell us what he said?”
“Nope.” Nick shovels a bite of food into his mouth. “Stop asking.”
“Yeah but look at your face. He did a number on you.”
“The other guy looks worse,” Rhys says.
Schultz continues talking. “There are even bruises on your neck… how
did that happen?”
I choke on my food.
Nick slides my glass of water to me and frowns at Schultz. “What are you
talking about?”
“Your neck.” Schultz cranes his own neck and points at it. “You’ve got
bruises on it.” Then he peers closer, leaning over the table. “Wait, are those
hickeys? Did you two sneak out last night to get lucky!?”
“Shut up before my uncle hears you.” I kick him under the table, and he
hisses, sitting back down.
 Nick, who’s finally caught on, adjusts the collar of his jacket as if that
would do anything. He stays silent, but an intense blush spreads across his
face, and he scrambles to finish his food.
Sulking, Schultz asks, “Why didn’t you bring us along?”
“Shut up right now,” I hiss at him.
A stifled snort catches my attention. When I look over at Rhys, he’s got
his face in his hands and his shoulders are shaking in silent laughter.

***

The moment we make it back to our dorm, Nick immediately asks, “Why
didn’t you tell me what my neck looked like?”
“Tried to, but you rushed out of the room. Why didn’t you see it when
you were in the bathroom, in front of a mirror?”
“I wasn’t paying attention! You were rushing me.”
“I don’t know. I think my way of getting you to hurry the hell up was
brilliant.”
He narrows his eyes at me and turns away, dumping his bag on the floor.
Snickering, I let him stew in his frustration, though I don’t miss how he
keeps stealing glances at me as if he has something to say.
I can tell that our deal is on his mind.
“You got something you want to ask, Nicky?” I taunt, kicking my shoes
off and removing my jacket.
He says, stubbornly, “No.”
I grin when he steals another look at me, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
He’s being so damn transparent but, again, refuses to speak up—and it
makes me want to tease the hell out of him. I step closer to him and get all
up in his space, and he flusters and backs away a bit.
“You sure?” I lightly graze my knuckles against the front of his pants, and
he sucks in a breath.
His eyes flutter and he swallows. Nick mumbles, “Why are you always
teasing me?”
“Because it’s so much fun,” I say with a laugh, then decide to stop
torturing him and push him until he’s sitting on the edge of his bed.
Grinning at him, I drop to my knees.
Nick clenches his hands. “Caleb,” he murmurs.
 “You want this?” I ask. When he nods, I add, “You weren’t cool with this
last night, so are you sure now?”
“It’s not that I didn’t want it last night,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I just
wanted something else more.”
Confused, my eyebrows furrow together. “What did you want more?”
“You were too far from me, and I didn’t want to do it that way… uh, the
first time.”
“Your first time with a guy?”
“My first time with you.”
Startled, I blink at him. I wonder if Nick even realizes how romantic he
sounds sometimes. A grin spreads across my face. “And you’re okay with
me sucking your dick now that we’ve made each other come once?”
“Jesus,” he grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his face. He flusters so
fucking easily and it’s endearing. “Yes, Caleb.”
“Well, then.” I grab the front of his shirt and yank him closer, smashing
our mouths together. He makes a surprised noise against me, then relaxes
and kisses me back with the same intensity that I give him. He seems more
confident now that we’ve made out a few times.
His long fingers wrap around the base of my head, and he holds me
firmly against him, and when I pull away, he chases after my lips and
whines.
God, I’m going to grow a complex about how this guy makes me feel so
wanted.
I hold his gaze as I tug at his shirt. “Take this off.”
He doesn’t hesitate to pull his shirt off, giving me the most magnificent
view of his hard chest and gorgeous abs. I’m pretty sure my mouth waters.
He nudges me to take my shirt off too, and I do, and his gaze immediately
drops to my nipple piercings. Nick seemed disappointed last night when I
didn’t have them, so I put them back on this morning. He’s always seemed
obsessed with them, even before we started this whole thing. I’ve caught
him staring at them many times.
Nick holds my jaw firmly and then he leans down to kiss me with a
hunger that I match, his other hand trailing down and playing with my
nipple ring. I hiss against his mouth and that only spurs him on, and he
smiles against my mouth and fiddles with my piercing even more, his
thumb brushing over it again and again.
 And yeah—he’s been wanting to do this, clearly. I can’t complain,
though. It feels amazing, sending electricity shooting through me.
Fuck, I’m getting distracted. I remind myself we have a deal and break
the kiss, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out. It glistens with
precum and Nick shudders when I wrap my fingers around at it.
I glance at him, gauging where his head’s at. This time around, Nick
doesn’t look as if he’s about to panic. He stares back at me, his cheeks red,
and licks his lips. Smirking, I put my hands on his thighs and spread them
apart before leaning down and running my tongue along his length. I suck
him deep and his dick twitches in my mouth.
He tastes so good. Nick’s hands fly to my hair, and he groans what
sounds like my name. I breathe through my nose and swallow him to the
base, fondling with his balls, and Nick curses.
Yeah. I give amazing head, thank you very much. I bob up and down,
slowly at first, and he tenses as his breaths became more labored.
“Fuck,” he groans, combing his fingers through my hair. It’s such a tender
thing to do and totally at odds with what we’re doing, but surprisingly, I
like it.
My jaw straining, I quicken my pace a bit, and Nick grunts and rocks up,
hitting my throat. It takes me by surprise, and I blink rapidly, my eyes
watering.
“S-sorry,” he stammers.
I shake my head and pull off him, wiping away drool from my chin.
“Fuck my mouth, golden boy.”
“God, Caleb,” he hisses. I wrap my mouth around him once more and he
still fights for control, refusing to move even if I already gave him
permission. I glare at him and smack him on the leg to encourage him.
He grits his teeth, and his hand tightens in my hair, and a moment of
hesitation passes before he thrusts up to my mouth again. This time, I’m
prepared for it, and I nod at him to continue.
Nick finally lets go, even if slowly at first—he rocks up to my mouth as I
suck him, and soon enough, he moves more forcibly. He removes his hands
from my hair, and it falls to the edge of the mattress, and he uses that as
leverage to not fall over as he thrusts into my mouth. I grip his thighs and
suck him as deep as I can, listening to all the dirty sounds coming out of
him.
 Fuck, I’m so hard it hurts. I can’t wait any longer, so I scramble to free
my dick, and Nick doesn’t even seem to notice with how tight he has his
eyes closed. I jerk myself off as he fucks my mouth, savoring his taste, also
thrilled at how he’s losing the control he’s so damn obsessed with.
He groans. “You feel—so good.”
Yes. More.
With the hand I’m using not to jerk off, I cup his balls and squeeze him
lightly, and he hisses.
Nick’s entire body stiffens, and he comes with a loud groan, his cum
spilling into my mouth. I work him through it and remind myself to
swallow, though I’m also dazed and unfocused as I jerk myself off. Nick
slackens, and he puts a hand on my cheek, gently trying to pull me off, and
I do.
“Caleb?” he asks hoarsely when I bury my face against his leg. “Are you
—” he cuts himself off.
I nod against him anyway, not trusting myself to speak, and Nick holds
me by the jaw and forces me to look at him. His gaze darkens, and he
watches my face as I stroke myself, and I see a hint of a smile before he
presses our lips together.
“You’re so fucking hot,” he says before he nibbles on my lower lip.
Hearing him curse pushes me to the edge even faster. “You close?”
“Yes,” I grunt.
“Come for me,” he commands softly as he brushes a thumb over my
lower lip.
That does it.
“Fuuuck,” I groan, spilling all over my hand and making a mess.
Breathing heavily, I collapse against him, boneless. I lie there for a minute,
catching my breath and vaguely aware of how Nick cards his fingers
through my hair.
When I finally pull away and meet his stare, Nick’s eyes flicker with
amusement.
“I guess you’re a good boy, too,” he teases, and I choke out a laugh and
punch him lightly on the arm.

OceanofPDF.com
 22

Caleb

S o…I think
the last two weeks have been intense.
I’ve created a monster. Nicholas Sandoval is insatiable, and I
can’t even complain because I’m always just as eager to put my hands on
him. We fool around almost every night, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,
but thank god we share a dorm room. It makes everything a lot easier.
The only times we don’t fool around is when we’re too tired to do shit.
Usually, it’s when I get home late from a shift, or from hanging out with
Maddox, or last weekend when I drove home to see my family.
The other day, practice was grueling. I’m pushing myself because I’m
hell-bent that we rank high enough and head right into the quarterfinals, but
even so, my body’s swearing at me. As soon as we made it back to our
room, I collapsed in my bed, telling myself to get up right away to spend
time with Nick. Instead, I woke up and the sun was out, and I realized that
Nick had helped me out of my clothes and had thrown a blanket over me.
My chest may have done a funny thrumming thing. Whatever that’s
about.
Seriously, though… Nick’s something else. I don’t know if it’s the mind-
blowing sex that’s messing with my perception of him, but what I used to
think were flaws are incredibly endearing to me now. That smile? How he’s
always polite and stops to make small talk with everyone? The way he
never takes the bait when someone from the other team taunts him? I didn’t
realize until now that all those weren’t actually flaws. It’s as if I’m seeing
him in a whole new light.
Which, goddamn it, I should really figure out.
Except I don’t want to, because Nick makes me happy without even
trying and I don’t want to fuck with that.
All I can think of is him. Nick Sandoval has taken up every crevice of my
mind, and I find myself seeking him out all the time.
Right now, in our locker room after practice, I watch as Nick talks to
Walters. The latter’s waving his hands and speaking passionately, and when
I strain my ears to listen, he’s talking about a party he went to and how he
hooked up with someone he’s been crushing on.
Nick nods along, a polite smile on his face and asking all the right
questions just to keep Walters going. When Walters makes a comment about
how the girl was even game about including her roommate in their night,
that’s when I roll my eyes and focus on taking my gear off.
Unfortunately, Schultz, who’s beside me, notices my reaction. He looks at
me then to Walters, then back at me. Schultz nudges my elbow and leans in
close, mumbling, “Does the locker room talk bother you?”
I shrug. “Only because if I talked about my type of hookups, they’d
probably get all weird about it and wouldn’t be as enthusiastic.”
“These guys are cool, don’t worry. They’ve never given a shit about me
being queer. And Coach, your uncle, is married to a man. You really think
anyone here would have an issue with you being gay?”
“Point taken.” I appreciate him trying to ease my mind, especially
considering how I can be distrustful when it comes to how people perceive
my sexuality. Nick could attest to that.
Schultz stretches out his arms and yawns. “I’m actually glad you joined
the team, dude. It was getting boring being the only openly queer guy
around here.”
It doesn’t get past me that he specifies openly queer guy, and I wonder if
there are others that I’m not privy to. I won’t ask, though.
But also…
I eye Nick and hold back a smile. I wonder if he’d be open to telling his
closest friends, namely Rhys and Schultz, about his newly found discovery
about this sexuality. The question niggles at me. I know that it’s completely
Nick’s decision if he’d want to come out to his friends, and I’m never going
to pressure him, but at the same time… I’ve fooled around with guys who
said the right things when we were alone but would pretend they didn’t
even know me in public.
It's one thing to sneak around because a relationship is new, and another
thing when it’s because you’re a dirty little secret they’re embarrassed of.
I’m familiar with the sinking feeling that goes with being pushed aside. To
hear them claim they’re completely straight and make you feel like you’re a
toy they’re only passing time with.
I’m all for experimentation and discovering your sexuality, and there are
a lot of reasons for not coming out. They’re all valid and I’m here for that…
except when the reason is because you’re ashamed, and that’s the one
reason I can’t stand.
If he were ashamed of liking guys, I still wouldn’t force him to come out,
but I’d definitely be reevaluating this entire thing. That doesn’t sound like
Nick though, so I put the negative thoughts away and lock them up.
After we’ve all showered and changed, it’s time for dinner and Nick and I
decide to head straight to the dining hall in the student services building.
We get into my car, and I’m just about to start it when the backseat doors
open and Rhys and Schultz climb in.
“Hey!” I yell.
“Thanks for the ride,” Schultz says, and I glare at him through the mirror.
“We carpooled here with Walters but he’s heading somewhere, the traitor.”
Smiling, Nick nudges my elbow to get me to ease up. “We’re going to the
dining hall.”
Rhys buckles himself in. “Cool, I’m starving.”
I grumble under my breath but relent, backing out of my parking spot.
Rhys and Nick have a conversation as I drive, while Schultz is hunched
over and texting on his phone. It’s not until he gets a very familiar sounding
notification that Nick pauses mid-sentence.
“What app is that?” Nick asks. “I’ve heard that notification before.”
“Flair,” Schultz says, not looking up. “It’s a queer social-networking
app.”
“Queer hookup app,” I correct.
"Dude, no! It’s much more than that.”
I snort, and Schultz starts to lament about how the app’s users don’t even
know half its features and how powerful it is or whatever. I wouldn’t know.
To me, I get on it to get my dick wet.
Used to, anyway.
 It’s not until we’re closer to the dining hall that I realize that Nick’s gone
quiet. Rhys seems to notice his change in mood and settles back in his seat,
and when I look over at Nick, he’s staring out the window with his chin in
his hand. The window shows me his reflection—his brows are scrunched,
and his eyes are narrowed, his jaw clenched.
Schultz and Rhys hop out of the car as soon as I park near the dining hall.
I grunt in reply when they thank me, and frown when Nick gets out without
a word, still sullen.
The dining hall’s teeming with starving college students and the four of
us make a beeline towards the food choices. The entire time we’re queuing
up to get our food, Nick doesn’t even look at me.
The two of us grab a table before our teammates do, and Nick noticeably
takes the seat across me instead of beside me.
I lightly kick his ankle. “What’s your problem?”
Nick’s shoulders stiffen and he pokes his roasted potatoes. “Not
important.”
Before I can berate him for that response, Rhys and Schultz arrive.
Schultz sits beside me and elbows me, saying, “By the way, why don’t you
use Flair anymore?”
“Deleted the app a few weeks ago because I didn’t need it anymore.” As
soon as I say that, Nick visibly relaxes. Even if he’s hunched over his food,
I can see how the corner of his lips quirk up.
Ohhh. He’s sulking because of the app? I cough to hide back a laugh,
because isn’t that just adorable?
“Aww,” Schultz whines. “How am I supposed to reach you, then?”
“Through my number?” I say incredulously. “Who the hell uses Flair for
normal conversations?”
He shoves a spoonful of food into his mouth and snickers. “It’s a lot
easier rather than switching between screens all the time.”
“Wait… wait, wait. Back up.” Rhys looks at Schultz in alarm. “You two
matched on a queer hookup app?”
“Yeah,” I say. “But only because I wanted to tell him how stupid his
tattoo looks in his profile pic.”
“I recognized his piercings.” Schultz pretends to gag. “Don’t worry, he’s
not my type and we’ve made that very clear.”
“Likewise.”
Rhys chuckles. “Didn’t know you had a type, Schultz.”
 “I do have a type. Think of beautiful light brown hair, huge hazel eyes,
glasses, freckles… walks around super confidently and looks smart as hell.”
Is this motherfucker describing Maddox? I stare at him in disbelief.
“Introduce me to Maddox,” Schultz says plainly, and yup, he certainly is.
“Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”
“Why!?”
“Because you use a hookup app as your default messenger.”
His jaw drops. “Are you slut-shaming me?”
“No.” I pat his shoulder in the most patronizing way. Of course, I, of all
people, wouldn’t be bothered by how he prefers casual relationships… but
that’s not what Maddox is into at all. He doesn’t broadcast it, but my best
friend’s into romantic gestures, serious relationships, and all that. Also, sue
me, but I’m fiercely overprotective of him. “Glad you’re in your slut era,
buddy, and I love that for you. Be your authentic self, just be it far away
from Maddox.”
“Hey!”
Rhys, thank god for him, I guess, changes the subject. He says to Schultz,
“Never realized that’s the app you’re always on.”
“Yeah… okay, real talk though, it’s not like I use it just for hookups. It
really is a social networking app, and I’ve made some good friends on
there.”
Rhys smirks. “Friends with benefits?”
“Yes, the best kind of friends. Ah, but I guess I should stop trying to sell
it… not like any of you would really be interested.”
Nick suddenly leans back and folds his arms. “No, please, tell us more
about Flair. I used to hear that notification from Caleb’s phone all the time,
so it must be quite fascinating.”
Schulz misses the dry sarcasm in Nick’s voice and animatedly goes on a
tirade about the app’s features. You’d think he was the creator with how
much he gushes about it, even talking about how you can report creeps
easily and get them banned. He also talks about how it’s got a story feature
like on Instagram, and that it’s fun to catch up on the days of people he’s
matched with.
I have to hand it to Rhys, he nods along and pretends he wants to hear all
this. Nick’s nodding along too, though he’s glowering at me the entire time
Schultz is speaking.
 Smirking, I whip out my phone. I send Nick a message and he breaks eye
contact to take his own phone out, his lips parting when he sees it’s from
me.
Me: Your possessiveness is showing. Relax, like I said, I deleted the
app weeks ago.
Nicky: If you say so.
Me: Jealous, much?
Nicky: No.
Me: What am I supposed to do? Turn back time?
Nicky: No. Drop it. It’s whatever. Not my business.
Me: And yet here you are, sulking.
Nicky: I’m not.
Me: Will it help if I suck your dick tonight?
I snort when a dying sound escapes Nick, and he puts his phone away in a
jerky movement.
Schultz glances at him. “What, Sandoval?”
“Nothing,” Nick mutters.
“You going to download the app? You can probably find a dude on there
who… uh.” His voice tapers off and he goes pale, giving me a panicked
look. “Oh. Uh. I mean.”
I stare at him, confused.
“To, uh. You know. A dude you can be… an ally to,” Schultz finishes.
A snort escapes Rhys. “Smooth save.”
Oh. Ohhh. That’s when it clicks—Schultz doesn’t know that I know
Nick’s bi. Honestly, it’s news to me that Schultz was aware. They’ve talked
about this?
Nick’s still blushing. “It’s okay, Schultz. Caleb knows I’m bi.”
“Oh, thank fucking god.” Dramatically, Schultz grasps his chest and
heaves. “Thought I accidentally outed you there, man. Sorry, I think I’m
just really excited that there’s one more queer dude on the team.”
“Didn’t know you all knew.” I’m unable to hide the shock in my voice.
“He told us the other week,” Rhys says. “Right before we went to that
away game against your old team.”
I do some digging in my head. Holy shit. That was after the night we
kissed, and the day we fooled around in the hotel.
He told them that early? I huff a laugh and bury my hand in my face. The
fuck was I even worried about earlier, concerned that Nick might not come
out to his friends? He did it literal hours after we made out for the first time.
“Why are you laughing?” Schultz asks, and I swat at him in an effort to
get him to shut up. That only puts him on defensive mode for Nick though,
because he says, “Ignore this ass, Sandoval. Use the app to meet someone.”
“I’m good, but thank you,” Nick mumbles, and when I peek at him from
between my fingers, his face is crimson. Beside him, Rhys has his palms
pressed against his eyes as he leans back and tries not to laugh, probably at
the ridiculousness of this entire conversation. Or maybe he’s laughing
because he’s figured us out. Who knows?

***

When Nick and I reach our dorm room, I push him up against the door. He
grunts in surprise, hands flying up to my hair. I can’t help it, though. I keep
him in place and suck on his lower lip, reveling in the soft sounds he makes.
“You came out to your friends,” I say when I break away from him.
“Hours after we made out, you came out to them immediately.”
“Yeah? Shouldn’t I have?” He cocks his head, seemingly puzzled by my
reaction. “Was that too fast…? It’s not like I’ve never been attracted to a
guy before, and I… wanted advice and knew that Schultz was also into
guys.”
“Advice?”
Nick gives me a shaky smile. “I was afraid I’d be bad… you know, if we
fooled around.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You asked Schultz for sex advice?”
“Ah, yeah. Nothing specific, and he told me to be honest with whoever
I’m with, and that most guys are into the whole teaching thing anyway.”
Well… yeah. That’s true. Startled, my hands drop to my sides and I give
him a calculative look. Nick chews on his lower lip as if he’s working
himself to say something, and I wait.
He murmurs, “I guess I was just a little insecure because you have a lot of
experience and I… don’t?”
“You don’t even have to think about that. Besides, the sex is mind-
blowing.”
“C-Caleb!” he splutters.
“If you want to try something, simply tell me.” I grin wickedly. “I’ll teach
you, if that’s what you want.”
 He chews on his lips again and averts his gaze. Nick mumbles something
under his breath that I don’t catch, so I lean in and grab his jaw, forcing him
to look at me.
“Say that again,” I say.
Nick swallows. Clearer now, he repeats, “Instead of you, um, blowing me
tonight… teach me how to do it instead. I want to learn.”
Fuck. This guy. I swear I almost come on the spot.
“Yeah.” My voice comes out raspy. “I—Yeah. Okay.”
Nick’s eyes light up and he grins, as if I’ve just agreed to something else
entirely—as if I had told him I wanted to suck him off, and not the other
way around. How can someone be this enthusiastic about giving head just
because he wants to learn? What a fucking dork.
Not for the first time, I arrive at the very real conclusion that Nick
Sandoval’s going to be the end of me.

OceanofPDF.com
 23

Nick

December

I t’sin the
our last match before the holidays, and the entire team’s hyped. We’re
middle of the game season and our current standings look great.
With five minutes left on the clock, I’m confident that this is going to be
another win.
When I said Caleb was what we needed to actually get far this year, I
wasn’t wrong. It’s not only his skills that make us a better team but also his
competitiveness and his passion. After the team has warmed up to him in
their own ways, it’s as if he’s lit a fire in us and reminded us why we need
to win.
“Good one,” Coach says, nodding at me, Rhys, and Caleb during a
change of line. I can’t help but beam, and Rhys looks just as happy. Caleb,
too, grins smugly at his uncle.
We’ve finally gotten over ourselves. We’re working together much more
seamlessly now, and even Caleb and Rhys don’t tear each other’s throats
out every chance they get. Coach constantly threatening to put us all on the
bench if we didn’t start getting along worked.
Or at least that’s what he and the team believes.
 Ever since Caleb and I started messing around, it’s as if our issues
simmered down as well. We get along a lot better now. Now that I’m no
longer overthinking so much, my control is back. Being on the ice feels like
second nature again, like it’s always been.
And Caleb? Maybe the solution to his antagonistic nature was sex,
because he no longer goes out of the way to rile Rhys up. I’m not sure if I’d
call them friends, but last week, I saw Caleb pull Rhys over and they talked
about some plays.
And maybe Rhys has picked up on the fact that I’m much fonder of Caleb
than I let on, because he’s let his walls down as well. He’s no longer as
protective as he once was and isn’t as snappy when Caleb approaches me
for whatever reason.
For a while, I wondered if he knew what Caleb and I have been up to, but
I think Rhys is just happy that I’m finally getting along with my roommate,
and that it carries over to how our line works together.
Or he does know, and he’s not asking. Same way I don’t ask him about
the longtime crush he has on his brother’s best friend.
The day gets even better when thirty seconds left on the clock, Rhys
passes the puck to Caleb, and he scores. The crowd roars and Caleb looks
around as if seeking someone, and then his eyes land on me.
My heart jumps when I find out I’m the one he was looking for—even if I
didn’t do shit in that play.
“Nice! Hat trick!” Rhys yells, and that’s when I realize that was Caleb’s
third goal in this game, and his first hat trick this season and for our team.
We’re still coming off the high of a win when Coach calls Caleb over and
tells him that some people from the media want to interview him. It’s not
unusual for reporters to request to talk to certain players, especially when
they excelled in the game.
“Do I have to?” Caleb asks.
Schultz smacks him hard on the back, making him stumble, and I
instinctively catch Caleb by the arm. Snickering, Schultz says, “You’re
today’s star, dumbass, and you’d better get used to it, seeing as you’re off to
the NHL soon.”
Caleb runs his hand through his sweaty hair and says to me, “Wait for
me.”
“Sure.”
 He gets pulled to the side towards a small group of reporters, and I watch
him fondly for a second before turning away.
I’m about to follow the rest of the team down the tunnel when an
unfamiliar voice calls my name. The stadium’s still loud and several names
are being thrown around, but the person who calls me—a middle-aged man
in a pin-striped suit standing near the entrance of the tunnel—has a
commanding tone that immediately catches my attention.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Aleks Polinski,” he says, extending his hand. I shake it, wondering why
his name sounds familiar.
Coach suddenly appears by my side, raising his eyebrows. There’s a hint
of a smile on his lips as he ushers us along the tunnel. The rest of the guys
glance at us but keep a good distance, and we take Coach’s lead and halt
right outside the team’s locker room.
Aleks sheepishly rubs the back of his neck and says to Coach, “I know
you told me to wait for your go signal first, but he was already going past
me.”
Clearing his throat, Coach turns to me and says, “Mr. Polinski is an old
friend of mine and an NHL agent. I’ve mentioned him before. He wanted to
speak to you, but apparently, couldn’t listen when I told him to wait for me
to ask you first.”
Coach’s tone is light and there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes.
While he usually has a pleasant demeanor, it’s unusual to see him with so
much warmth. Usually, he only reserves this warmth for Caleb.
He and Aleks must be good friends.
Grinning wide, Aleks shrugs a shoulder. “So, Nicholas—”
“Nick,” Coach corrects.
“Nick. All I want is a chat and for you to hear me out. I’m very interested
in representing you.”
I’m quitting hockey after college. That’s what I’m supposed to say, but at
the moment, I can’t quite find the courage to. Until this point, I’ve had no
trouble dictating those practiced words.
Standing in front of an actual agent who’s persistent enough to catch me
after a game, I don’t know how to say I’m not in any way interested.
“Sandoval,” Coach says, his tone careful. “No pressure. Say the word,
and he’ll leave.”
“I promise,” Aleks says.
 Chuckling, I’m about to tell him I’m not interested, but Caleb’s face
flashes in my mind—of him talking excitedly about signing on to Buffalo
after college, to playing with and against his idols, and of him eager to
make a name for himself.
Aleks and Coach eye me, waiting for my response.
And, surprising even myself, I say, “I’d love to talk.”

***

Fifteen minutes later, I have even more mixed feelings than before. Aleks
reiterates that while it was only a casual getting-to-know-you conversation,
he definitely wants to sign me as a client. Apparently, my name has been
creating a buzz, and several teams have been sending out feelers. Teams
that were disappointed I didn’t join the draft some years ago.
It’s not exactly a surprise to me, though I’ve been fighting very hard to
ignore these hard facts.
Aleks tells me he was Coach’s agent back then, and that they’ve been
keeping in touch. Coach then says he’s not the only agent trying to get to
me, though he’s been very adamant in telling everyone I wasn’t interested.
It’s just that Aleks is a lot more persistent than the rest, and at that moment,
I can’t find it in myself to be disappointed by that.
Once Aleks has thanked me for my time and leaves, Coach turns to me
and says, “I apologize. I hope I didn’t overstep.”
I shake my head, knowing he’s been doing all he can to respect my
decision all this time. “Nah. We only talked, anyway. Nothing’s set in
stone.”
He gives me a warm smile. “Caleb told me you might be rethinking your
future, but I didn’t think he was serious. Should I be relieved Aleks was this
pushy about meeting you? Though, while we’re on this topic, should I tell
the other agents who are asking to speak to you that you’re open to options
now?”
Wait. Fuck. Panic rises in my throat at the realization of what exactly I’ve
just done. Forcing the anxiety away, I mumble, “Honestly, Coach, I’m still
trying to wrap my head around this whole thing.”
“Got it. Go think about it, then. Maybe talk to my nephew about it. That
boy’s a menace, but he’s smarter than he lets on… and I’m getting the
impression you two are a lot closer now than you were when the year
started.”
I hide my smirk behind my hand. You have no idea.
When I get to the locker room, there’s loud music blasting. Most of the
guys have taken their showers and changed to their suits, though Caleb’s
still in his base layers and messing around.
He, Schultz, and Vega are yelling at the top of their lungs and standing on
top of their benches. Rhys is in a good enough mood that he doesn’t go into
captain mode and tells them to knock it off—even if Vega’s fallen off the
bench for doing this exact same thing last year.
Caleb spots me arriving and grins, and my chest warms. He jumps off the
bench and strides over to me. “Where’d you go?”
“Coach wanted to talk to me.”
“Really? About what?”
“Um… nothing important.”
I don’t want to tell him about Aleks Polinski yet. Maybe next time.
Caleb’s mood must be better than I even thought because he brushes away
my response.
“Hey, drinks on Jennings tonight!” Schultz yells and laughs and cheers
resound through the room.
“What!?” Caleb turns on them, though he’s smiling so wide I can tell he
doesn’t mind. “Fuck you!”
“You’re not my type, baby!” Schultz cackles. “On that note, can you
bring Maddox along?”
“I told you he isn’t into jocks!”
Caleb ignores Schultz calling after him and heads to the showers, and I
laugh and follow his lead.
The showers are empty now and Caleb’s peeling off his shirt and
throwing it aside. My face heats at the sight of his narrow waist. He’s got
dimples right above his hips, a detail I’ve somehow missed before.
As if sensing I’m watching, Caleb turns around and snickers at me. “Quit
looking at me like that, or I might get on my knees and give you what you
want”
I flush. “Caleb!”
Caleb waggles his eyebrows at me and removes the rest of his clothes,
and I can’t help but let my stare drift to his cock. I put a hand against my
throat and swallow, and when my eyes snap back to his, the asshole’s
smirking at me.
“Shower’s empty, I think we can get away with it,” he says, walking
backwards to the furthest end of the room.
My voice is tense. “No way.”
“Relax, golden boy. Totally fucking with you.” He gives me one last
cocky grin before disappearing into the furthermost cubicle.
I rub a hand over my face, and it takes me too long to realize that I’m
grinning like a fool. The sound of running water starts, and Caleb sings
along to the faint music coming from outside. My grin gets even bigger.
He’s just… incredible. Some time ago, I couldn’t stand him. Now, I get
this dorky smile when he teases me—and seeing him get along with the rest
of the team makes my chest buzz. He still annoys them any chance he gets,
but it’s much more light-hearted now.
Like me, the rest of the team is seeing a version of Caleb that’s way too
easy to like.
The day’s events as well as Caleb’s good mood spurring me on, I look
around the shower room to confirm that it really is empty. There’s nobody
else around and as I make my way towards Caleb, and I yank my clothes off
as I walk.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I open the curtains to Caleb’s cubicle.
He startles and turns around, wide-eyed. His jaw drops as the water
cascades around him, but before he can say anything, I get in and crowd
him.
Caleb’s shock diminishes and he grins wickedly at me, placing a firm
hand on my bare chest. “My, my. Feeling adventurous today, I see.”
“Quit teasing me.” I fist his hair and yank him in for a kiss, swallowing
whatever other chides he has, and Caleb returns as good as I give. He slides
his lips against mine and I can feel him smile against me. Water gets in my
eyes, so I close them, using my hands to feel my way around. Caleb’s
already got shampoo in his hair and his skin’s slippery with suds.
He moans when I press him against the tile, his cock heavy against mine.
“Not that I’m complaining,” he says hoarsely, kissing my jaw. “But what
is this about?”
“In a good mood is all.”
Slowly rocking against me, Caleb holds me by the jaw. His eyes glint
with amusement. “Winning gets you worked up, huh?”
 “Like it doesn’t get you worked up. Be quiet. We can’t get caught.”
“Yes, sir,” he mocks.
Laughing, Caleb pulls away from me to grab for the shampoo. He squirts
some into his palm and then entangles his hands in my hair, fingers scraping
against my scalp, and I feel myself slackening under his touch.
He kisses me, his mouth wet and hot, and I’m pliant underneath his
roaming hands. The water’s warm against my back as he massages my hair,
then he grabs soap and drifts his hands all over my skin. It’s so oddly
affectionate and tender that my heart stutters—I came here to mess around,
thinking that’s what he’d want to do. I didn’t think we’d actually be taking a
shower.
Just when I’m trying not to smile about how obsessed he is with
cleanliness, he reaches between us and wraps slick fingers around both our
lengths. I gasp and almost stumble in surprise.
I let out a strangled moan and bury my face against his shoulder.
He huffs out a laugh and murmurs, “What was that about being quiet?”
Sucking a spot on his neck, I inhale his scent. Caleb sighs and angles his
head away to give me more access. He strokes both of us with a hand, and I
clutch his hips tight. He hisses in surprise and retaliates by playing with the
sensitive vein under the head of my cock.
Fuck. It feels so good, and I rock against him. My hands drifts
downwards, and I cup his ass. Feeling bold, I slip a finger between his
crease and press it against his hole.
Caleb swears and buckles, his hold around our dicks tightening in the
most delicious way.
I’ve never in my life touched anyone like this before, and my heart
hammers in my chest as I tentatively press against him once more.
“You want to fuck me?” Caleb rumbles against my ear.
Yes. My dick twitches at the idea, and Caleb grins against my temple.
“Not here,” he says.
“I didn’t—that’s not what I—”
“When I let you fuck me, we won’t be in a hurry,” he says. “We’ll have
all the time in the world, and I’ll go slow and ride you. Then, right when
you’re at the edge, I’ll hold you down and sit completely still so that you
can’t come.”
I groan. “Caleb.”
 “I’ll ride you all night. Or I can get on my knees, and you can fuck me
from behind, if you’d like. I don’t care. Fuck me how you want, Nicky.”
God. My breath hitches and I bite down on his neck, electricity jolting
down my spine as I thrust against his hand. The sensation of his dick
rubbing against mine as he jacks both of us at the same time feels out of this
world, and his dirty talk is driving me even more insane.
“You going to let me fuck you too?” he asks, sounding hopeful.
“Yes.”
“Baby…” God. Caleb and his nicknames. It’s the first time he’s used that
one, and my heart skips a beat. He murmurs, “Really?”
“Caleb, I’ll let you do anything to me.”
He inhales sharply and his whole body stiffens, and he spills between us.
His movement falters and just as I’m about to take over so I can come, he
pushes my hand away and wraps long fingers around me and tugs.
Eyes shut tight, I groan and throw my head back and reach my climax.
Heat pools at my gut and my breath gets stuck in my throat as I come, and
Caleb works me through it, even if I’m sure he’s just as spent from his own
orgasm.
I pant and bury my face against his shoulder once more, and Caleb
snickers quietly and strokes my hair.
“You good?” he asks softly.
“So, so good.”
“Nick!” Rhys’s booming voice makes us both freeze, and I pull away
from Caleb with panicked eyes. In contrast, he grins widely at me. His
cheeks are flushed, and his lips are puffy, and I’m sure I look as thoroughly
fucked as he does.
Rhys could take one look at us and know what we were up to. Though
finding us naked together in one cubicle would probably be a bigger clue.
“What?” I call out. The shower’s still running and probably drowning out
my voice, so I turn it off, fearing Rhys might come closer.
“Meet you at the bar?” he yells.
“Yeah!”
“Great. You too, Jennings. You owe us all a round.”
The door shuts and silence follows, and when I meet Caleb’s face, he’s
smirking.
“He knows we’re messing around,” Caleb says. “There was only one
shower running, and you switched it off and made it even more obvious.”
 Oh. Shit.
“He doesn’t know,” I say, kissing him one last time and moving away,
turning the water on again to finish our shower.
Honestly, though—yeah, I think this confirms my suspicions that Rhys
knows.
Him not making a fuss over it and not pushing me for answers makes me
chuckle. I’ll talk to him when I’m ready and when I’ve figured out exactly
what all this means—not me being bi, but me being way into my roommate
to the point that I forget how to behave.
And from the way warmth spreads across my chest when Caleb smiles at
me, I know I’ll need to figure it out soon.

OceanofPDF.com
 24

Caleb

W hen we meet up with the rest of the team at a nearby bar, nobody asks
us what took us too long.
“A round of drinks for eight, please!” Schultz tells me.
“Only eight?” I look around—there’s definitely more of us. Most of the
team is here, though the younger guys are already nursing sodas.
“The rest can’t drink yet,” Rhys says. He’s glaring at our underaged
teammates, probably making sure they don’t order alcohol. Snorting, I
know that works for me—the bill won’t be too painful on my already
pathetic wallet.
Nick gives me a wary stare, and I ignore it. I think he’s noticed that I’ve
worn myself thin with extra shifts recently, which I’ve picked up because I
wanted to get Penny something nice for Christmas. I’m glad Nick doesn’t
offer to help me with buying the guys drinks, though his creased eyebrows
say it bothers him.
After getting our order, I head back to our table and realize that the guys
are talking about the upcoming holiday break.
Rhys eyes me as he says, “Nick, are you heading home for the holidays?
And your birthday?”
I blink. “Nick’s birthday is coming up?”
“It’s on December 31st,” Rhys answers for Nick, who frowns at him.
Vega laughs. “Cool. You get fireworks on your birthday.”
 My eyebrows clash together. Leave it to Nick to keep this all from me—
and I’m pretty sure Rhys is bringing it up like this, so I’d find out. The way
he stares at me makes it obvious.
Though, I get it. These are things I should probably know about the dude
I’m seeing.
Wait, what the fuck?
Are we dating?
And is this Rhys acknowledging that?
Nick mumbles, “Don’t worry about me.”
A loud sigh escapes Rhys. “You usually spend holidays with my family,
so of course I’m worrying. Especially since it’s your birthday. You could
still come with us, you know?”
“Rhys, I won’t crash your family vacation to Maldives.”
“Maldives?” Schultz echoes. “How fancy. Wait, Sandoval, why can’t you
spend the holidays with your parents?”
“I am. We’re not going somewhere fancy like Rhys, but Dad said he’d be
working from home, so it’s not like I’ll be alone for the holidays.”
Rhys rolls his eyes. “You said the same thing about Thanksgiving, and he
left the state last minute and you were going to spend it alone in the dorm if
I didn’t catch on.”
I frown. “Wait, what?”
Seriously? I had assumed he had been with his dad, since that was what
he said right before I drove home. I didn’t even know that Rhys ended up
dragging him along to his house.
“You can’t spend the break alone,” Rhys reiterates, and his stare flickers
to me again when he says this. Scowling, I narrow my eyes at him. Guys
who beat around the bush piss me off. If he wants me to bring Nick with
me, he should outright say it instead of all these mind games.
Still—I see what Rhys is so obviously hinting at, and I agree.
That’s why afterwards, when we’re walking back to the dorm, and I still
can’t let the topic rest, I grasp Nick’s arm to get his attention.
“Nicky,” I say. “One second.”
He stops walking and turns to me. The rest of the guys are walking ahead
of us. There’s a thin sheet of snow on the ground and Schultz and Vega are
horsing around, play-wrestling, and Rhys shouts at them to be careful.
Nick’s cheeks are red from the few drinks he had, and he gives me a lazy
smile that makes me pause for a moment. It makes me want to grab him by
the sides of his face and kiss him stupid.
Caleb. Focus.
I clear my throat. “Do you want to spend the break with me and my
family?”
He huffs a laugh, his eyes twinkling. “Of course not.”
“The hell?”
My chest twists and I glower at him, but before I can get angrier, he says,
“Your sister wouldn’t want me there. I don’t want to take her time away
from you. I really appreciate the offer, though, but I’ll be fine. Besides, Dad
says he’s mostly sure we can spend it together.”
“Mostly sure,” I say dryly. “Fine. Whatever. But if he’s not around, you
need to tell me. I don’t want you to spend the holidays all alone in the dorm.
And why didn’t you tell me your birthday was coming up?”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Fucking tell me these things.”
Nick’s smile widens, and he blinks at me slowly, his stare flickering to
my lips for a moment. “You’re sweet.”
“Shut your mouth. I’m not.”
“You are.” Nick lifts a hand as if to brush my hair away from my eyes,
then drops it to his side at the last minute. He probably remembered we
were with company. “I really, really like this side of you.”
My veins buzz. “Are you drunk again? You barely had anything.”
He shakes his head. “No. Not drunk. I’m serious, though. You’re
amazingly sweet even if you try to hide it behind a tough exterior. I like it
every time you let me see a part of you that you don’t show anyone else.”
“Jesus, Nicky.” My face heats and I scowl again. “Knock it off or I’ll
punch you.”
Nick throws his head back and laughs, and then we’re interrupted by
Schultz who calls us over to settle an argument he’s started with Rhys—it’s
about something stupid I don’t even want to comprehend. Nick gives me
another split-second smile before jogging over to our teammates.

***

Christmas morning at our house looks like Santa’s elves themselves

decorated it, but Mom always went all out during the holidays for Penny’s
sake. It’s always been Penny’s favorite holiday, which is why we’re up way
too early and giving each other presents.
“Thank youuu!” Penny squeals, ripping open my gifts to her the second I
hand them over. Her face lights up when she sees the limited edition books I
was somehow able to find on eBay, though I think my little sister would
have been happy with literally anything. “This must have cost you a lot!”
“Nah, not at all.”
No need to tell her about the extra shifts at the café so I could get her
these. I cover my slight smile with the mug of hot chocolate Mom gave me.
“You look happy.” Mom leans her head against my shoulder. “Are you
seeing someone?”
“Mom,” I groan, because why immediately jump to that conclusion?
“I’m only saying, Caleb,” Mom says. “You look really good. Happy
good.”
“And your assumption is that I’m seeing someone?”
“Am I wrong?”
I glance at Penny. She’s lying on her belly on the carpet, flipping through
her new books, seemingly oblivious to our conversation.
“Not wrong, I guess,” I mumble at Mom.
“Tell me about him.”
Mom doesn’t look the least bit bothered by the way I glare at her.
Horrifyingly, I realize my cheeks warm up—I’ve never been a blusher, but
apparently, Nicholas Sandoval’s able to bring that out in me. Ugh.
“We’re on the same team,” I tell her. “We’re both wingers and he’s the
school’s star player—well, until I came along, I mean.”
“Ahh, Nicholas Sandoval?” Mom asks, just as I take a sip of hot
chocolate.
I almost spit out my drink, because of course Mom would know exactly
who I’m talking about. She watches all my games like clockwork.
Penny suddenly turns to us, face all screwed up. “Nick? He’s annoying.”
Startled, Mom asks, “You’ve met him?”
“I met him at the hospital… and Caleb forces me to say hi to him when
he video calls me and Nick’s in his bed.”
“In his bed?”
“She literally means his bed. We’re roommates,” I explain quickly, before
Mom gets any ideas. I probably should have mentioned my roommate
before, but it’s not like I’ve ever been close to any of them, which is likely
why Mom didn’t bother asking either. “When he’s in the room with me—in
his bed—I make Pen say hi to him. And they met at the hospital by chance
because he was there with his family. His Dad built a clinic there.”
Mom stares at me way too long, taking that in—and I get it. I think that’s
the most words I’ve ever told her about any guy ever.
“He’s your roommate,” she repeats with a slight laugh, apparently
focusing on that slight detail.
“Yes. Also, to be clear… we’re not seeing each other. Not exactly. I don’t
know. We’ve never actually talked about it.”
“Well, you seem to like him a lot.” Mom ruffles my hair like I’m a kid
and I grumble at her. Chuckling, she gets up and starts tidying up the
discarded wrappers on the floor. I take that moment to duck out of the
room, heading to the kitchen and whipping out my phone.
I should probably check on Nick.
The guy’s taken up every corner of my brain. How that realization
doesn’t bother me as much as it should makes me grin as I type out a
message to him.
Me: Merry Christmas, Golden Boy.
Nicky: Merry Christmas. Please don’t call me that.
Me: You exchange gifts with your parents already?
The typing bubble appears then disappears, and I stare at my screen as
Nick struggles to reply. I should have checked in on him before today, but I
didn’t want to seem like a clingy motherfucker since I’m not entirely sure
where we’re at.
After a minute of Nicky not sending a damn thing, I roll my eyes and put
two and two together.
Me: You’re at the dorm, aren’t you? Didn’t head home?
Nicky: No. Dad had some urgent meetings to go to in NYC. But it’s
cool.
Me: So when are you seeing them? New Year’s at least? Which, by
the way, is your fucking birthday?
Nicky: Maybe. Why are you angry?
Me: Because I specifically told you to tell me if this was going to
happen.
Nicky: Sorry.
I close my eyes and scrub my face, telling myself to calm down. This is
so typical of Nick that I should have expected it. His dad and stepmom
seemed cool when I met them, and I know his dad tries to be as present as
he can despite his busy schedule—but I also know that Nick spends a lot of
his holidays alone, if going by Rhys’s not-so-subtle hints.
I almost ask Nick why he couldn’t have gone to NYC with his dad, then
stop myself. It’s no secret that Nick has this weird thing about not wanting
to be a burden and not wanting to ask for things.
Nicky: Don’t be angry.
I don’t respond right away, mostly because I am angry. And partly
because I’m trying to figure this all out in my head.
“What’s wrong?” Penny asks, and I almost jump. I didn’t even notice her
approaching. She leans against the kitchen counter and her long sleeves slip
down her too-thin wrist. I frown, wishing it’d be easier for her to put on
weight.
“Nick didn’t tell me he was spending the holidays alone at the dorm, and
his birthday’s on New Year’s.”
Her face twists in that way it does any time Nick’s mentioned. “Why
didn’t you bring him here?”
I blink, stunned for a moment and not expecting that from her. “I asked.
He has this weird thing about not wanting to bother anyone.”
Penny makes a gagging sound and turns away, heading to the fridge.
She’s quiet as she rummages around it and then emerges with a carton of
milk. “You are a bad boyfriend.”
He’s not my boyfriend.
She adds, “You should surprise him, like in that movie we watched
yesterday.”
I stare at my little sister for way too long. For someone who doesn’t hide
her dislike for Nick, she seems to genuinely care about Nick not being
alone.
“You’re all right with me not being around on New Year’s?” I ask.
Penny shrugs. “You can annoy Nick instead.”
I burst out laughing and grab her, ignoring her protests as I hug her as
tight as I can. She shrieks and tries to break free, probably thinking that
she’s too old to be getting hugs from her big brother—tough luck though,
I’m not stopping any time soon.

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 25

Nick

D ad: Enjoy your day, Nicholas. Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn’t

spend it with you, but will make it up to you soon.
Dianne: Happy birthday. :)
Rhys: Happy Birthday. Hope you’re having a good time with your
Dad.
Schultz: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! LOVE YOU, MAN!!!
Jessie: Happy birthday, Nick. Have a good year.
There are a few other messages from my teammates, classmates, old
friends, as well as Coach. Jessie sending me a message throws me into a
loop, but I completely forget about it when I scroll through the rest of
notifications and find out Caleb has sent nothing.
He did mention he went out with friends last night, and I wonder if he’s
fighting a hangover. While a text from him would have made my day, I
don’t hold it against him.
Caleb was upset that I’m spending New Year’s Eve and my birthday
alone, but it’s not that bad. I can turn up my music as much as I want and
not feel bad for it, and Stella Café’s open without its usual line of
customers.
There are a few other people who didn’t head home, and a guy from
down the hall—someone I took a class with last semester—invited me out
with his friends last night and we had a blast. They’re not my usual crowd,
but we sang karaoke until the early hours of the morning and ate a
ridiculous amount of junk food.
I should probably spend an hour or two in the gym today, though I’d
rather binge my shows in my room.
In my empty room.
Which feels so lonely without Caleb in it, despite me mentally
complaining about having a new roommate only months ago.
No. Stop it, Nick.
I’m used to being alone. Dad asked me to come to New York with him,
but I didn’t want him to think about shuffling his busy schedule around to
spend time with me. So I lied to him and said it was fine, and that I’d stay
with Rhys.
Then I told Rhys I was with Dad.
Caleb was the only one to figure out all the lying and wasn’t happy about
it. I could practically feel his grouchiness seeping through the phone.
Despite him being a grump, though, I can’t deny I miss him. I contemplated
calling him or FaceTiming him a few times, only to stop myself. He’s
spending time with his family, and I can’t disturb that.
Yawning, I glance out the window. It snowed this morning and the quad’s
dusted with white. The sun’s probably going to set soon, and I’m sure
people are getting ready for tonight’s festivities. If I started moving, I can
probably make it to the city’s annual ball drop. Might have to wrestle my
way through a crowd, but what else is there to do?
I’m searching for the details on my phone when the door slams open.
“Shit!” My entire body jolts and I drop my phone in surprise. Fumbling, I
sit upright and gape at Caleb.
His cheeks are pink, and he’s got the most adorable dark blue beanie
pulled down to his ears, and I’m momentarily distracted by how it makes
the green in his eyes stand out.
Caleb grins widely at me, as if my mind still isn’t reeling, attempting to
figure out if he’s a damn apparition.
“What are you doing here?” I squeak, self-consciously pulling down the
ratty shirt I have on.
“Surprising you for your birthday. At least look happy about it.”
I stare at him, baffled.
“C’mon, Nicky,” Caleb says, striding over to me and tugging me up. I
yelp and almost lose my balance, but Caleb’s relentless and I get up on
shaky feet. “Let’s do something. Are you really staying in on your
birthday?”
“I was going to the ball drop,” I say defensively, as if I didn’t only think
of that five minutes ago.
“Okay, so let’s go together. If you’re a good boy, I’ll even let you kiss me
when the clock hits twelve.”
My face heats. “Caleb!”
He snickers and pushes me towards my closet, and I press my palm
against my chest, trying to get my pounding heart to calm down.
Caleb keeps talking behind me. “Kinda wish I brought something thicker.
Just when I think it can’t possibly get any colder, the universe fucks with
me.”
I snort. For someone who spends all year on ice, Caleb’s a bigger baby
about the cold than I ever thought. I lean down and grab a wrapped present
from the bottom of my closet and toss it at him.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“Your Christmas present.”
His face falls. “Oh, shit. I knew I was forgetting something. I didn’t get
you anything for Christmas, or for today—”
“It’s cool.” I grab clothes from my closet and stand up taut, watching
him. I want him to open it with me around, and he finally gets the hint and
tears the wrapping apart. Inside it is a thick scarf that’s the same color as his
beanie. “I noticed you wear that color a lot.”
And I like how it matches your eyes.
“Aw, Nicky, thank you.” He wraps it around himself snugly and gives me
the warmest smile ever, and my heart once again races.
Damn it. I thought I already got it to calm down. He watches me the
entire time I’m getting ready, and because my heart won’t shut up, I lean
into the feeling. Caleb’s eyes widen when I cup the back of his neck and
kiss him, and when I pull away, he cocks his head at me and smiles.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Of course, golden boy. Now hurry.”
After I’m dressed and all ready to go, we take his car as close as we can
to Roosevelt Plaza and walk the rest of the way. There’s already a crowd, as
expected, and live music’s playing. I can’t stop glancing at Caleb. That he’s
wearing my present makes me way too happy.
 Because of the crowd, we can’t get as close as I’d like, though at least we
have a good view of the tower. I’m sure we’ll be able to watch the
fireworks from here, and honestly, I’m just glad that Caleb’s with me.
“Your sister was actually all right with this?” I ask him.
“Yeah. It was her idea.”
“Seriously?”
Caleb nods at me and presses his shoulder against mine, and I
automatically wrap an arm around him. He studies my expression for a
moment and I’m not sure what he’s searching for, but his eyes flutter and he
smiles, and I resist the urge to lean in and kiss him.
I really, really want to kiss him, but we’re in a crowd, and that’s not
something we’ve done before.
The night passes by quickly. Caleb sings along loudly with the music and
has conversations with strangers around us. A young girl beside us
complains to her mom—who’s already carrying another child—about not
being able to see the ball because of the crowd, and Caleb offers to lift her
on his shoulders. The young girl’s enthusiastic and watching them makes
my heart speed up again.
Caleb and I are similar in being a people pleaser, except that while I do it
to not be a burden, he does it because it makes him happy. He goes out of
his way for others, and not for the same reason I do. It comes naturally to
him, and even if he can be rough around the edges sometimes, I don’t think
I’ve ever met anyone as selfless and genuine as him.
He’s… larger than life.
And he’s here with me. On New Year’s Eve.
Once the little girl’s satisfied, Caleb puts her down and she thanks him.
The girl rushes back to her mother, squealing. He turns to me and lifts his
eyebrows when he catches me staring, and I smile sheepishly and tuck my
chin to my chest.
“What’re you staring at?” he asks.
“Nothing.” Before he can complain about my answer, I link my fingers
with his. Caleb lets me, and he squeezes his hand against mine. “You said
you didn’t get me a present, but I think you being here is the best one I
could get.”
He huffs a laugh and leans in, his breath warm against the shell of my ear.
“Actually thought of what I can give you. When we get back, you’re going
to fuck me.”
 What? My dick twitches and I choke on air.
“C-Caleb!” I sputter, stepping away from him with wide eyes.
Caleb grins as if he didn’t cause my universe to topple around me.
“Now I don’t want to wait for the ball drop,” I grumble, and he bursts out
laughing.
And when the countdown finally starts, Caleb finds my hand again and
intertwines our fingers. He shouts along with the rest of the crowd but
keeps his eyes on me, all soft and honest, and I don’t know what to do with
the way my chest cracks wide open.
The crowd chants, “Three… two… one!”
Lights explode above us, and everyone cheers, and I watch as the colors
illuminate Caleb’s face. I can’t take it—with my free hand, I cup his face
and press my lips against his.
God. I don’t care that we’re in public. Everyone else is absorbed in their
own world, anyway, and what is it to them what two men do in a sea of
strangers? All I care about is kissing Caleb and feeling his lips under mine,
all warm and intoxicating.
“Happy New Year,” I say against his ear.
“Happy birthday, Nicky.”
“Not my birthday anymore, technically.”
“Does that mean it’s too late to give you your present?”
“Caleb,” I groan, and he laughs and yanks at my hand. We don’t finish
watching the fireworks display, too excited to get back to the solitude of our
dorm instead. I don’t think either of us was watching it at all, to be honest.

***

As soon we get back to our room, we rush to take each other’s clothes off.
There’s a flurry of items getting discarded and when I’m down to my shirt
and boxers, I realize that Caleb’s a lot slower than I am. I’m ridiculously
eager to get him naked that I yank his jeans down, and his foot gets caught
in a pant leg and he trips. Panicked, I try to catch him, and we both go
tumbling on the floor. He ends up sprawled up on top of me.
“Jesus, Nicky, slow the fuck down,” he says with a laugh. He brushes hair
away from my forehead and shakes his jeans off, only now left in his
underwear.
 I pout and place a hand flat on his abs, and he shivers when my cold
hands hit his skin. He watches me with dark eyes, and I drift my hand
higher, catching my blunt nails against his piercings. Yes. I’m so happy he
has them on today.
His eyes flutter closed when I play with his piercings, tugging them
between my fingers. His groin pressed against mine, I feel him harden, and
he sucks in a breath when I lean in and nibble on a piercing. With my other
hand, I continue to fiddle with the other one.
“Nicky,” he groans, entangling his hand in my hair.
God, he smells so good. I kiss up his chest and suck on his neck, and
Caleb arcs his back and breathes heavily against my ear.
“Give me a second.” Caleb gets off me, and I audibly whine, and in the
room’s dimness, I see the wicked smile he gives me. “Patience. And get up.
We’re not fucking on the floor.”
I grumble something incoherent and sit on the bed, watching him search
through his desk. A moment later, he holds up a small bottle of lube and a
condom. He slips off his boxers and my breath gets stuck in my throat at the
sight of his hard dick against his stomach. Swallowing, I get rid of the rest
of my clothes as well.
It only now occurs to me I should have read up on how to do this. Yeah,
I’ve watched some porn and searched around the net—but I never really
absorbed much. I always ended up jacking off to the thought of fucking
Caleb, or getting fucked by him, and never focused on what leads up to that
point.
Caleb must sense my apprehension, because he smirks at me and pushes
me back on my bed. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is let me ride you.”
He straddles my legs, and I blink up at him. Slowly, Caleb leans down
and puts his mouth around my dick, and I buckle in surprise. He bobs up
and down a few times, and heat pools in me.
Chest heaving, I meet his eyes as he sits up. He gives me another too
smug grin, and he rips the condom packet open before gently slipping it on
me. He’s so confident and I feel so out of my element, as usual, especially
when he pours lube on me and pumps me once to spread it.
“Caleb,” I whine, pressing my hands against my eyes. “I want inside
you.”
“Patience,” he reminds me, and when I peek between my fingers, he’s
reaching behind himself. His throat bobs and he sucks in a breath, and it’s
only then that I spring into action.
I snake my hand around him, putting my fingers next to his. Feeling
around blindly, I can tell he’s got two fingers inside himself, until his
knuckles—and that’s so fucking hot. “Teach me how to do it,” I say.
Caleb’s mouth parts and he stares at me as if he’s debating it, then he
stops prepping himself and squirts lube unto my hand. The liquid’s cool and
slick against my skin and I slip them inside his hole, the same way I think
he was doing it.
His chest heaves as he mumbles instructions at me, and he keeps himself
up by planting a hand on the bed next to my head. I think I hit his prostrate
by accident once because he gasps and his lip wobbles, but then I lose the
spot and can’t find it again.
It’s frustrating. I’m great at almost everything, and I want to be great at
this too. There’s an obsessive need in me wanting him to feel good—so I
crook my finger, searching.
“Fuck, your fingers are huge,” he grumbles, and I can’t help but beam at
how out of breath he sounds. Still, I can’t find that spot. “Put one more in.”
“Where is it?” I murmur, crooking my fingers.
“What are you—oh, god.” Caleb chokes on a breath and he buckles,
pressing his forehead against mine as a string of curses escape him. There. I
finally found it, and I attack the sensitive spot mercilessly. He grits out,
“Holy fucking hell, Nicky. Ease up or I’ll come.”
“Come.”
“Baby, no. Need you in me first. I’m ready. Take your fingers out.”
I listen, and he gives me one long, fervent kiss before sitting up. Caleb
holds my aching dick and guides it to his hole, then he sinks down on me in
one movement.
My hands fly up to his sides, and I swear I see stars.

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Caleb

uuuck,” Nick groans. He throws his head back and a bead of sweat
“F falls down his neck, and I’m sorely tempted to lick it. I would, if he
wasn’t splitting me wide open and causing my thoughts to short-
circuit. For a few seconds, I simply sit on him, panting.
When I think I’ve adjusted to him in me, I wiggle a bit, and he curses
again and clutches tight at my hips.
“You’re killing me,” he whines.
I smirk at him as smugly as I can and lift myself up. When I sink back on
him, Nick shudders—and that’s when I finally start moving. I go slowly at
first, savoring the feel of his thick cock in me, and Nick impatiently raises
his hips to urge me on.
It drives me wild that I can make him lose control like this. Nicholas
Sandoval, the campus’s golden boy, the hockey team’s star player, and a
man who has a reputation for his undeniable patience and pleasant
demeanor. He’s so inhibited in every other aspect of his life, and I can’t
believe I have the privilege of making him fall apart like this.
He shuts his eyes and grunts, and I trail a hand up his hard chest. I
squeeze his throat gently before gripping his jaw.
“Look at me,” I demand.
He snaps his eyes open and meets my gaze.
 “Good boy,” I whisper, not missing how he sucks in a breath at the
nickname.
Always so damn compliant, even during sex. I grin at him and continue
riding him, going at a pace that has him writhing and shuddering
underneath me. Just as I commanded, he doesn’t take his eyes off me.
Nick suddenly bends his knees, causing me to fall forward a bit. The new
angle is amazing though, and his dick hits my prostate, making me moan.
Nick brushes my hair away from my face and smiles. It’s too tender and at
odds with what we’re doing, which is something only Nick can get away
with.
“Caleb,” he murmurs, and my dick twitches with how he says my name.
Nick’s smile grows, and he reaches between us, wrapping his still slick
fingers around my cock and pumping it. I ride him faster and deeper, and
his hold on me falters for a second.
“Good?” I ask hoarsely, because sue me—I thrive on praise. It’s
something we have in common.
“So good. You feel amazing.”
Pleasure sizzles through me and I feel light-headed, our groans filling the
emptiness of our dark dorm room.
Nick writhes underneath me and he grits his teeth. I can tell he’s close to
coming, and even if it drives me insane, I slow down to a stop to catch my
breath. He swears and glowers at me, shifting his hips but not getting the
friction he needs.
“Caleb,” he hisses. “You tired?”
I scoff at him. I’m a college hockey player with the stamina to show for
it. Of course I’m not tired.
Once Nick goes slack beneath me, I move again.
“Yes, please,” he murmurs, trembling underneath me.
I don’t fuck him long enough. When he’s close to coming again, I sit still.
Nick groans and looks as if he’s trying not to lose control.
“Are you teasing me?” he whines.
I grin. “Yes. I told you, remember? Said I was going to fucking edge you
and drive you nuts?”
“Caleb, please.”
Despite my fake smugness, my dick’s also asking for release—but I’m
not there yet. I want Nick to go absolutely insane while I fuck him. I want
him to beg me, and I want to hear the desperation in him. I want this night
to last as long as it can.
The next time I edge him, Nick lets out a disgruntled shout and grips my
hips, trying to get me to move, but I sit as still as I can. His face twists in
frustration and he curses under his breath.
More.
“Stop it,” he says, voice clipped.
“Beg to come.”
“Please. Baby, please. I want to come.”
He’s so out of it I don’t even think he noticed the nickname that slipped
through his lips. Grinning wickedly, I ride him again, even faster and deeper
than before. My thighs are aching, but I don’t care, because nothing
matches the way Nick looks. He whines and rocks up against me, and when
I see him biting his lip and arcing his back, I go still again.
“Fuck, Caleb!” he shouts.
“That’s it. A little more… you can do it.”
Nick’s dark eyes meet mine. “Enough,” he snaps, and he pushes me off. I
wince as he pulls out of my ass and I fall on my side beside him, suddenly
panicked that I’ve gone about this all wrong.
Fuck, did I mess up?
And just when I’m about to tell him I’ll stop teasing him, Nick sits up and
roughly shoves me against the mattress. I grunt in surprise, and he holds me
down between my shoulder blades, my face hitting the bed, and then he
enters me from behind in one quick motion.
“Oh, god, Nicky,” I groan.
“You’re a menace,” he says, his voice angry and hot. He yanks me up by
the hair and his other hand slides up my chest and wraps gently around my
throat, and my dick leaks at how turned on I am.
This. This was the Nick I’ve been waiting for.
He snaps his hips against mine at a brutal pace, and when I almost buckle
forward, the hand in my hair wraps around my waist. Holding me by the
throat and my midriff, he keeps my back plastered to his sweaty chest and
nips at my neck, his groans loud against my ear.
“I want to come,” I plead.
And thank god Nick’s not as mean as me because he nods and lets go of
my throat. He wraps long fingers around my cock and strokes me in time
with his thrusts, and I fuck his hand, feeling delirious.
 “Goddamn it, Caleb,” he hisses. “You drive me insane.”
“You love it.”
He pauses his thrusts for a split-second, and my blood goes cold—what
the fuck am I saying? Then he sucks in a breath and starts fucking me again,
even deeper this time, and his hand tightens around my cock.
“I do love it,” he admits, and my heart stutters.
I come with a shout, spilling all over his hand and sheets. His thrusts
become erratic, and he follows me not long after, shuddering against my
back. Nick nips at my neck as he comes down from his orgasm, then he
collapses to his side and brings me along with him.
Nick slips out of me, and I try not to groan at the feeling of emptiness. He
rolls away and I hear him discarding the condom, and I press my face
against his pillow and attempt to regain my breath.
Fingers run through my hair, and I turn to peer at Nick. He’s on his side,
facing me, and has the dopiest smile. “Caleb,” he murmurs.
“Hey,” I say.
He smiles and kisses me, slow and tender, and I melt into it as he trails a
hand against my back and rubs it.
“Thank you,” he says.
“Thanking me again?” I huff a laugh. “For what this time… sex?”
“No,” he says, also laughing. “Thank you again for coming back. I didn’t
know I needed you until I saw you.”
I’m pretty sure my heart is about to burst out of my chest. “Jesus, Nicky.
You can’t just say shit like that.”
He smiles at me and trails a knuckle down my cheek, then he rubs a
finger against my bruised lips. My mouth parts automatically and he leans
in for another kiss.
The afterglow of good sex has always made me dazed and out of it, but
this is different. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before. It’s as if Nick’s
slowly introducing me to new sensations that I never knew existed.

***

January
The incessant beeping of Nick’s phone wakes me up, and I groan and
push at him. Of course, he doesn’t even budge. Rolling my eyes, I sit up
and glare at his sleeping figure.
 We were too tired to change his sheets last night, so after cleaning
ourselves up, we crashed on my bed instead. Surprisingly, Nick didn’t
assault me in his sleep this time. He was actually well behaved.
Maybe the secret to having Nick sleep peacefully was a good fucking. I
smirk and catalog that thought.
He forgot to turn his phone to silent, though, and I could do without the
damn beeping. He’s probably getting the onslaught of greetings that’s
typical on the first day of the year. Grumbling, I climb over him so I can
grab his phone off his desk and turn it off.
The preview of the latest message he received catches my attention,
though.
Aleks Polinski (NHL Agent): Happy New Year, Nick. Hope you’ve
given my offer some thought.
Ah?
I know I shouldn’t snoop, but my interest’s piqued. I know exactly who
Aleks Polinski is—he was my uncle’s agent back when he played pro, and
my uncle had mentioned him when he had spoken to Nick and me in his
office. Why’s he texting Nick? And what offer?
Nick stirs. He yawns and blindly gropes at the space I left behind. When
he realizes I’m not there, he sits up slowly and looks around the room.
“Caleb?”
“I’m here,” I say. “Morning. How are you feeling?”
“Like we fucked until two in the morning.”
I choke on a laugh. “Who are you and what have you done to my prim
and proper roommate?”
Nick cracks a smile at me and shrugs, and he swings his legs over the bed
and gets up. He stretches and I’m greeted with the view of his bare chest
and tight abs, and my dick twitches for another round.
“Want to go to the gym?” he asks me, shutting my dirty thoughts down.
Later, then. We’ve got the entire day, and I grin at the possibilities.
Once we’ve freshened up and are about to step out the door, Nick grabs
my beanie and yanks it over my head. The gym’s in the student services
building which isn’t a long walk away, but he’s quickly caught on that I
can’t stand the cold. He smiles at me, all soft and gooey, and I watch as he
slips his shoes on.
Then he grabs his phone, and I remember what I saw.
“Nicky?” I ask.
 “Yeah?”
“Why is Aleks Polinski texting you? I saw the message by accident.”
He stiffens. For a moment, I think he’s going to ignore me, but then he
shrugs. “Your uncle introduced me to him, and we had a quick talk. He
wants to sign me as a client and says that a lot of teams would consider
adding me to their roster.”
“When did you two talk?”
“Right before break.”
My chest twists. I hesitate to get my next words out, but I need to know.
“You never mentioned it to me, because…?”
Nick stares at me, his lips a flat line. “Didn’t think it mattered.”
“I don’t know, Nick. This seems like a pretty huge thing.”
“Not for me. It’s not an option.”
“Anyone else would jump at this opportunity.”
He shrugs and opens the door, effectively dismissing me and the subject.
Sighing, I follow him, and we have the most awkward and silent elevator
ride to the first floor.
Nick’s sullen now, his hands in his pockets, and he’s avoiding looking at
me.
As soon as we get to the gym, he gets on the only free treadmill without a
word to me. While a lot of people are still off-campus, the gym’s more
crowded than usual. All determined to stick to their resolutions on the first
day of the year, I guess.
Goddamn it. I know Nick well enough by now to know he’s the master at
pushing down his feelings, but this is ridiculous. I knew he didn’t want to
play hockey after college because he wants to work with his dad, but I’ve
never really been convinced. Now that we’ve been fooling around for a
while, I thought he’d actually talk to me about it if I asked—not just brush
me off like this.
The whole time we’re working out, separately, I watch his hard
shoulders. He glances back at me a few times and his face is blank and
emotionless.
But when a girl he knows greets him, he plasters on his fake smile as if
nothing’s wrong. Lo and behold, Nicholas Sandoval, ladies and gents.
When we’re done and head out of the gym to a massive hallway, I look
around to make sure the coast is clear. Confirming that it is, I grasp Nick’s
wrist.
 “Nick,” I say. “This conversation is happening.”
His face twists and he pulls away. “Please leave it.”
“I can’t. I know how much you fucking love hockey, and I don’t
understand. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and—”
“I need to be useful to my dad.”
“What do you mean?” I snap.
“I owe it to him to help him.” Nick’s jaw ticks and he scrubs a hand down
his face. He’s quiet for a long time, and I wait. Finally, he says, “Caleb, I
was a mistake.”
“What?”
“I… I was the outcome of a stupid, drunken night. Dad was already
married when he got Mom pregnant with me. He wasn’t present when I was
growing up, but that’s because Mom preferred it that way. But when she got
really sick, he stepped in and took care of all her medical bills.”
Nick pinches at the bridge of his nose, and I can tell it hurts for him to
talk about this. But I need to understand.
He says, “When she passed away, Dad and Dianne took me in. They put
me in a private school, gave me my room in their penthouse, even put me in
the most prestigious training camps because they knew I was into hockey.”
He pauses for a moment, staring at me blankly. “Imagine being Dianne and
having to take in the woman’s kid your husband cheated with. I was
suddenly in their lives messing it up for them, and not once did they make
me feel like shit for it, but of course, I still feel like shit. That’s why I keep
my head down and stay out of trouble.”
“Nicky…”
“I don’t want to be a burden to them more than I already am.” Nick
forces a smile. “The one thing my dad’s ever asked of me is to help him
with his business. He’s never asked me for anything else. And yeah, of
course I want to play in the NHL. God, I really, really want to—and
watching you talk about it, it kills me. I’m so envious of you, but I made
this decision a long time ago.”
“Baby,” I murmur. “You’re not a mistake. What your parents did has
nothing to do with you.”
“You said yourself that nothing good comes out of cheating.” He gestures
at himself. “You were right.”
“When the hell did I say that?”
“When you were telling me not to get back together with Jessie.”
 My eyebrows clash together, and my heart sinks when I realize this was
why he was so ready to forgive Jessie. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
He shrugs.
“You’re not a mistake,” I say, my voice hard. “And you don’t know how
your dad feels about you going pro. If you talked to him about it—”
“He’d tell me to go for it, because he’d give me anything I want. You
don’t understand. That day he asked me to come work for him after college,
I was so happy. I just want to pay him back somehow.”
“But would working with him make you happier than if you played in the
NHL?”
Nick throws his head back and sighs. “Caleb, please.”
“I’m only saying—”
“Please stop trying to change things for me. I was perfectly fine with how
things were. Then you came along and messed everything up.”
I take a step back, stunned. “What the fuck?”
Nick winces and meets my eyes. “That’s not what I meant to say—”
“I messed everything up, did I?”
“No. No, of course not.”
“Jesus fuck, Nick.” I scowl and raise my hands. “I’m sorry for caring, I
guess.”
“Listen—”
“Message received. I’ll stop caring.”
“Caleb.”
I grumble under my breath and turn away, and he yanks me back
abruptly. Pissed off, I move to shove him away, but he cups my nape and
kisses me hard.
Here, in a hallway in the student services building. Right outside the
crowded gym. Where everyone can see. My anger and surprise melts, and I
sag in his hold.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and I think he’s pleading. “I didn’t mean that. Shit,
Caleb, I’m sorry. You changed things for me, but in a good way.”
I bite my cheek and frown at him. He looks and sounds so fucking broken
that I can’t even find it in me to be angry right now, so I simply nod.
Doesn’t mean I’m not hurt, though. It’s no secret how much I like Nick,
and how I enjoy making him happy. These last few weeks have been
amazing, and it made me forget just how different we both are. These last
few weeks actually made me think that we fit pretty well together.
 But… I messed everything up for him? Seriously?
That quickly, the fever dream of how we could ever work shatters, and I
don’t know how to fix it.

OceanofPDF.com
 27

Nick

I screwed up. Big time.

Caleb’s slipping away. It’s gradual but it’s happening, and I don’t know
how to pull him back. He grows more distant every single day, coming back
to our room late, taking his own car to practice, and spending most of his
time in the café or with Maddox.
This is why I hate letting my temper get to me—I blurt out the most
reckless things. Why the hell did I say he messed things up for me? That’s
so far from the truth. Yes, he did turn my world upside down, but in the
most perfect way.
This morning, I woke up to a sandwich and a to-go coffee on my desk.
He usually brings them back for me when I sleep in, but then he waits
around until I actually get up to hand it to me. I stare at the breakfast he left
for me, but then his side of the room’s noticeably empty. He didn’t even
leave a note or a text telling me where he went, and the subtle changes are
loud in my brain.
Hesitating, I pull out my phone, my fingers faltering over my screen.
Fuck. What’s going on with me?
Me: Thanks for the meal. Where are you?
Caleb: Library, getting a paper done.
I frown. He usually just works on his desk, on his laptop.
Me: I don’t have classes until after lunch. Want to meet up?
 Caleb: Nah, I need to get this done
Me: Let’s carpool to practice?
Caleb: Not today. I want to stay after and do drills on my own
There’s a tightness in my chest that won’t go away, and I let out a long
exhale and massage my temples. I want to offer to stay and do the drills
with him, but it’s clear that he’d rather be alone.
I end up studying for the rest of the morning and then decide to head to
the dining hall for lunch. It’s freezing, but the five-minute walk to the hall
would probably clear my mind. At our dorm’s doors, I stop and pull my
phone out, anticipating I have a message from Caleb. Even if he doesn’t
have a reason to send another one.
Nothing.
I’m putting my phone away when it buzzes, and I jerk the screen towards
me, feeling hopeful. My lips curl to a frown when I see that it’s not Caleb,
but Rhys. All it says is, “Sup?”
“Wow,” Rhys says from behind me. “Didn’t think a message from me
would depress you that much.”
Startled, I give him a look. Like me, he’s dressed to go out, a thick scarf
wrapped around his neck and a beanie pulled down to his ears.
“You were standing there for a full minute looking like you were waiting
for a text,” Rhys says. “So I texted you. Didn’t think you’d be sad about it,
though.”
“Sorry. I was expecting someone else, is all.”
“Of course you were.” He smacks my back and pushes me towards the
door. “Where are you going?”
“Dining hall.”
“Okay, was going to grab a quick bite too. Let’s go together.”
It only occurs to me now that while Rhys and I see each other almost
every day because of hockey, we hang out considerably less than before.
Even back when I was with my ex, Rhys and I were together almost daily
even outside practice. I was with him more than I was with Jessie.
Since Caleb and I started spending more time together, my time with
Rhys has dwindled. While he’s never complained about it, I feel bad for
only thinking about myself. What has he been up to?
We make our way to the dining hall, passing through the snow-covered
quad. Because of the freezing weather, there aren’t a lot of people outside.
Rhys is talking about one of the classes he’s taking, and a billow of clouds
escapes his mouth when he groans about how there’s an assignment he
hasn’t started.
“You good?” Rhys asks me, after I haven’t said a word in a full two
minutes.
Shit. Even if I wanted to use this as an opportunity to catch up with him,
my thoughts are too deafening.
“Yeah,” I lie.
“Talk to me, Nick.”
My shoulders stiffen, and my automatic answer of it’s nothing threatens
to come out. I shake my head, deciding to change the subject instead.
“What happened to that blind date you went on last week? Overheard the
guys setting you up with one.”
Rhys’s expression twists. “Didn’t work out.”
“She wasn’t your type?”
“No, uh… she was cool. Pretty, funny, and smart. She asked if I wanted
to go out again, but I wasn’t feeling it.”
I try not to smile because I’ve heard this story before countless times.
Rhys lets out a sigh. “Archer found out and wouldn’t shut up.” He says,
mocking his brother’s voice, “Get a girlfriend. Put in some effort. Bring
someone home to Mom and Dad. You’re twenty-one, Rhys, stop fucking
around. As if twenty-one is even that old? The asshole gets a girlfriend
longer than three days and suddenly he thinks he’s the subject matter
expert.”
Okay, I do laugh out loud this time. “You’ll find a girl you’re into, don’t
worry.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and the sounds of our shoes crunching
through the snow is all I can hear. When I turn to look at him, his eyes are
downcast and he’s frowning. I wince, instantly feeling bad because it looks
like he’s ruminating about what I said.
Finally, he mutters, “I guess.”
I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s in his head. It’s ironic,
really. Rhys says I tend to bottle in my feelings, but he’s the exact same
way.
When the building that houses the dining hall comes into sight, Rhys
clears his throat. He says, “You hear about Isaac’s new job?”
It’s always a delicate subject talking about his brother’s best friend, and
I’m surprised he even brought it up. “He’s coaching the new kids’ hockey
program at the rink, right?”
“Yeah. Their training’s right after ours on Mondays and Thursdays, and
apparently, we can volunteer to help out if we want to.”
“Schultz and Vega are excited about it.”
“Uh-huh.”
I chew on my cheek. Hesitatingly, I ask, “Are you going to volunteer
too?”
In the corner of my eye, I see Rhys blow out a breath and scrub a gloved
hand over his face. “Nah,” he mumbles.
Of course, because when it comes to Isaac, Rhys is always going to avoid
him any chance he gets. I hate seeing Rhys like this, and it guilts me that I
can’t do more for him.
Just when I think that conversation’s over as soon as it started, Rhys lets
out a hoarse and bitter laugh.
“Rhys?”
“Shit.” He shakes his arms as if to get the tension out of them. Rhys grits
out, “I’m a trainwreck, Nick. I’m never going to get over Isaac, am I? How
can a single person have that big of an impact on me?”
My jaw drops and I blink at him. I’ve known Rhys for almost my entire
life, and I’ve known he’s been crushing on Isaac since they met in middle
school. Even if I’ve never asked about it, it’s simply one of those facts in
life that I’m aware of. Pay attention to how Rhys looks at his brother’s best
friend and it couldn’t be clearer.
“What?” Rhys asks. “That can’t be a surprise to you.”
We’ve stopped walking, and I don’t even realize it until a small group of
students pass us, talking to themselves. Once they’re a good distance away,
I stammer, “I-it’s not. Um… yeah, it’s not a surprise. Does… does your
brother know?”
“Of course not. He wouldn’t think I’d ever be into his best friend, let
alone have a clue that I’m not straight.” Rhys slumps in defeat. “I don’t
even know what I am! I’ve slept with girls and liked it, so I’m definitely not
gay. Bi? Pan?”
“Okay, okay… Rhys, breathe. You don’t have to figure it out right at this
moment.” I wait until he nods in agreement before I ask, “Does anyone else
know?”
“Only you.” He levels a stare at me. “You coming out may have just been
the kick I needed to deal with my own shit. So thanks for that. Seriously.”
 “Rhys!” I can’t help the wide smile that spreads across my face. I finally
did something right by Rhys for once. “What did you say to me again? Ah,
wait. Give me a moment. I remember.” Putting on the most serious
expression I can muster, I hold him by the shoulders. I take a long, deep
breath and say, “Love you, man. Thanks for trusting me with this.”
He snickers, and despite the chilly air, his cheeks brighten. I attempt to
block how he swipes at me, but his fist collides with my elbow, and I yell in
protest.
“Almost our entire first line’s queer, by the way.” He grins in amusement.
“Schultz will be thrilled.”
“If you tell him,” I point out.
“One day. Maybe thirty years from now.”
“Jesus, Rhys!”
“Anyway, now are you going to be the one to share with the class?” he
asks sarcastically. “Why have you been sulking since we got back from
break?”
“Hmm,” I say, pretending to think about it. “Nah.”
“Fucking typical.” He swipes at me again and I evade it this time,
laughing. “Whatever. Do I need to beat someone up? Like a loud-mouthed
winger on the team?”
My heart thumps and my eyes widen but I don’t say anything, and Rhys
only grins at me.
Even much later in the day, one thing Rhys said rings true. Rubbing my
sternum, I think of Caleb as I repeat the words in my mind.
How can a single person have that big of an impact on me?

OceanofPDF.com
 28

Nick

February

aleb!” Coach calls from the bench. “Get it together!”

“C Caleb scowls. He glances up at the stands, and I follow his stare to
where McAvoy, his development coach from the Buffalo Jets, is
watching. I’m not sure if he’s the reason that Caleb’s off his game today, but
I know Caleb doesn’t want to look bad in front of him. This guy will have a
say how Caleb’s contract will go after school’s over, and the last thing
Caleb wants is to be sent to their farm team.
“Caleb, you good?” I mutter to him.
“Fuck off.”
Rhys’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing behind his helmet, and he stares
between Caleb and I. Frowning, I give Caleb a long, hard look.
“Sorry,” Caleb follows up immediately, though he doesn’t look or sound
all that sorry. He shrugs. “I’m good, Nicky.”
We’re down by two during a crucial moment, and Caleb fumbles with the
puck again. The crowd actually boos him and his face flashes with anger. In
his frustration, Caleb slams his stick against the board, rattling it.
 “Maybe it’s not your day,” I hear Coach telling him. Caleb growls and
splashes water over his face. “It happens, Caleb. I’m benching you.”
“No. Don’t. I’ll sort it out.”
“You’re not right in the head because of Penny.”
“Don’t bench me.”
Coach gives a long sigh and ends up not doing it, anyway. I’m glad he
doesn’t, because even on Caleb’s worst day, he’s still better than most of the
team.
Still… I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I can’t help it. Caleb mentioned
that his mom and sister were going to watch this game, and now I realize
that they’re not in the seats that Caleb reserved for them. Only Maddox is
there wearing Caleb’s jersey, next to two empty seats.
I look at Caleb, and as soon as his eyes meet mine, his expression
hardens.
“What happened to your sister?” I ask, voice low.
“Fuck off, Nick.” This time, he doesn’t apologize.
In the end, we barely win the game by one goal, mostly thanks to our
defense, and no thanks to our offense. Caleb storms off immediately,
ignoring how I call after him.
When we get to the locker room, he’s already rushing to the shower.
“The hell’s his problem?” Rhys asks.
“His sister.” My thoughts won’t settle, and anxiety creeps up in my veins.
“She was supposed to be at the game today, but she didn’t show up. I think
she might have had another emergency.”
Rhys winces. “Shit.”
Caleb reemerges from the showers in record time and quickly changes
into his suit, all the while mumbling about how having to wear these
ridiculous outfits is a stupid, useless tradition.
“Caleb,” I call.
He raises a finger in my direction, though I don’t think he’s ever going to
bother talking to me, anyway. Caleb buttons his shirt and walks over to
Coach, and I watch as they have a quiet conversation at the side of the
room.
And, like I predicted, Caleb doesn’t talk to me afterwards—just grabs his
bag and gets out.
Sighing, I massage my temples, ignoring how Schultz is venting about a
class he’s taking. When I don’t answer him, he gives up and turns to Vega
instead, and the chatter of the locker room devolves into a buzz.
I need to talk to Caleb.
Rhys seems to get it, and he doesn’t question when I take the quickest
shower ever and rush out of the locker room.

***

The door to our room’s askew when I get there, and I can hear voices
coming from inside. I step into our room, and Caleb’s shoving things inside
his bag. Maddox’s seated on his desk chair, frowning.
They both glance at me when I enter, though Caleb looks away
immediately.
“What’re you doing?” I mumble.
“What’s it look like? I’m packing my shit.”
“Jeez, be nice,” Maddox tells him.
I stand there, frozen, and watch him. He grabs the scarf I gave him and
puts it into the bag, and that tiny detail is enough to get me hopeful that
maybe we’re still all right—even if I’m pretty sure he’s not aware of most
of the things he’s putting away. He even shoves mismatched socks inside,
and a cap that I swear he’s never worn.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
Caleb ignores me. Rolling his eyes, Maddox is the one who answers for
him. “He’s heading home for a week or so, until they can find someone to
look after his sister.”
“What happened to Penny?”
Maddox says, “She got another infection, but was trying to hide it from
their mom because she really wanted to be at today’s game. When their
mom finally noticed, she was burning up. It’s not serious enough for
another hospital stay, but she can’t be left at home. Caleb’s heading home
so their mom can go to work.”
“Fuck.” I stare at Caleb, fully aware that I’m having a conversation with
him through Maddox. Ridiculous. “What about your classes? And we’ve
got a game this weekend.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Caleb snaps, finally addressing my
existence. Maddox prods him with a foot and Caleb groans. “Already e-
mailed my professors, and my uncle also knows I’m skipping the next
game.”
 I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He can’t miss these games. We’re
in a crucial spot right now, and we have a chance to go all the way to our
conference’s championships… to regionals. Caleb joining the team had a lot
to do with that.
Also, Buffalo’s watching him.
“We need you at the game,” I say, my voice clipped.
“Pfft, so dramatic.” He zips up his bag and glares at me.
“Who usually stays with her when your mom’s at work?”
“One of our neighbors is a retired nurse and would stay with her, but she
just moved and there’s nobody else.”
“Maybe if you called an agency—”
“Let me rephrase,” he spits out. “We can’t afford anyone else. My mom’s
the sole breadwinner and she can barely afford my sister’s medical bills. We
need time to figure it out.”
“Then... You’re going to miss your classes and hockey indefinitely? You
can’t do that.”
“I have to. Newsflash. Not everyone has a rich dad like you.”
I stiffen and say nothing, my stare drifting to the ground. A dull pain
throbs at my chest, and I resist the urge to massage it.
God. Caleb’s cracking at the edges and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Fuck, I wish he wasn’t so distant these past weeks. I want to reach out and
hold him, bury my face in his hair and tell him it’s going to be fine, but I
don’t know that, and we haven’t even so much as kissed recently.
I have no fucking clue where we are, and now’s not the right time to ask.
Caleb hikes his bag over his shoulder and slips on his shoes. “Ironic how
my little sister can’t even do something as simple as going to a damn game.
Then there are people who could do so much with what they have and don’t
do shit with it.”
Groaning, I throw my head back. I knew he was still angry with me about
that, but is this the right moment to bring it up?
“I’m heading out,” Caleb says to Maddox.
Maddox waves him off. “Go ahead.”
“Wha—Why? You staying here to gossip with Nick?”
“I could do that,” he says bluntly.
Caleb glowers at his friend and works his jaw, then he runs a frustrated
hand through his hair and shoves his way past me. Right before he closes
the door, he points a finger at Maddox and yells, “Don’t tell him shit!”
 He doesn’t even acknowledge me before slamming the door shut.
I lean back against the wall and smile weakly at Maddox. He returns my
smile and stares at me from where he’s still sitting, his arms folded across
his chest.
I don’t know why he stayed back.
Aside from him being Caleb’s best friend, I don’t know much about him.
I’ve always had the impression of him as this confident guy who’s known
for being a genius. He majors in math and is a teaching assistant—that’s
how smart he is.
“You need to have a lot of patience with Caleb,” he says. “That shouldn’t
be hard for you, though, right? You’re the classic nice guy.”
“A doormat is more like it.”
He laughs as if I’m joking. “Seriously, though. Caleb likes you a lot. I
don’t think I’ve ever seen him this smitten by anyone else, but he’s always
had a weird way of managing his temper, so I’m apologizing for him and
really hope you don’t give up on him.”
“Isn’t he going to be angry you’re saying all this to me?”
“Maybe, but who cares? Our friendship’s always going to be a sure
thing.” Maddox grins. “You, on the other hand… you two are rocky right
now. What even happened?”
“It’s my fault.”
He looks at me earnestly. “Go on.”
I walk over to my bed and plop down on it, and Maddox swivels the chair
to face me. He’s still wearing Caleb’s jersey, which is huge on his tiny
frame—and now that I take a longer look at him, I see what Schultz means
when he says Maddox is the prettiest person he’s ever seen.
That he’s wearing Caleb’s jersey says a lot about what their friendship is
like. Once, I asked Jessie if she wanted me to order her a jersey with my
name, and she scoffed and said that would be tacky. I remember laughing
and saying I was kidding, and I didn’t tell her I didn’t think it was tacky at
all. Even if it was… who cares?
Maddox doesn’t have any issues wearing Caleb’s jersey. He’s also seems
immune to Caleb’s temper, gets along with him, and seems to understand
him more than anyone else.
Maybe he’s the one Caleb should be with.
I shake my head, getting rid of those toxic thoughts quickly. I refuse to
even go there. “He’s pissed because I have a chance to get into the NHL but
I’m not taking a shot.” Before Maddox can react, I quickly add, “My plan
was always to work with my dad after college, and he doesn’t understand
that. He says I should at least open up the topic to Dad, but… it’s simply
not happening.”
“If you don’t mind me asking… why?”
“Because I want to work with my dad.”
He seems surprised. “More than you want to be in the NHL?”
Fuck, that’s exactly what Caleb asked me. I grimace, knowing that the
answer is that I definitely want to play in the NHL more.
When I don’t respond, Maddox chuckles humorlessly. “Well, I can see
why Caleb’s angry, then. He’s very sensitive about people who don’t seem
to appreciate what they have. It has a lot to do with his sister, which he not
so subtly said earlier.”
“Yeah, seems about right.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll get over it. Caleb really does like you a lot, Nick.”
Maddox gets up and stretches his arms over his head. “He’s a piece of
work, but he’s incredible… literally the only jock I can stand, playing the
dumbest sport ever.” He pauses and frowns. “Sorry, that’s probably really
rude to say to someone on the hockey team.”
I laugh. “That’s fine, I get it. Why do you have something against jocks,
though?”
“Well, for one thing, the hockey team back in high school bullied me.
They had a problem with me being gay.” Maddox gives me a long look.
“It’s why Caleb overreacts when someone gives even a hint of being
homophobic.”
He’s talking about the huge misunderstanding Caleb and I had before.
“Sorry.”
Maddox shrugs. “Anyway, it was years ago… I hid it from Caleb because
those were his teammates, but it got so bad my parents wanted me to
transfer schools. When Caleb found out, he was livid. Got into a full-blown
fight with the guys on his own team, and one of them came out of it with a
broken nose. He got suspended for fighting, but they stopped harassing
me.”
“I’ve actually heard about those rumors about him fighting the guys on
his own team.”
“Yeah. He got a reputation for being hot-headed and antagonistic, and he
rolled with it.”
 I cover my smile with my hand, amused because that sounds exactly like
something Caleb would do.
“He cares too much for people who are important to him.” Maddox
watches me, as if gauging my reaction.
Fuck. The words Caleb said to me echo in my mind—Message received.
I’ll stop caring.
“Hey,” I mumble. “You know Caleb’s address, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I—can I have it?”
Maddox’s eyebrows clash together. Maybe he’s trying to figure out if I’ll
show up at Caleb’s doorstep like a stalker.
“I’m not heading there,” I say. “But I think I can help him out by looking
for someone for his sister.”
“All right. Hand me your phone.”
Maddox types in Caleb’s address. He still seems suspicious of my
intentions, and I’m just glad he agreed to give it to me.
Once he’s gone, I call my dad, hoping he’s not busy.
In my whole life, I think I’ve only ever rang Dad three times. When I told
Caleb that Dad gave me everything without ever making me feel like shit,
that was true—but despite that, I’ve always had the most complicated
relationship with him.
“Nicholas?” Dad’s voice asks, slightly panicked. “Everything okay?”
“Hi, Dad. Yeah, um. Everything’s good. Are you free to talk?”
There are other people speaking in the background, and I think he’s in a
meeting. I should have texted him. Shit. Dad excuses himself, then I hear a
door shutting. He left to go to a quieter room.
“What is it?” Dad asks.
“I need a favor.”
“Anything. Talk to me.”
I take a deep breath and tell him what I need.

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 29

Caleb

I twho’s
kills me I can’t play for now, but when I peer over at my little sister
buried under a mess of blankets, I know I made the right decision.
I wish she’d sleep on her bed instead of on the couch, but she insisted on
keeping me company while I did my assignments. Penny’s still running a
low fever, and her medicines are making her loopy and making her lose her
appetite. I made her oatmeal earlier, and she took three spoonfuls before
telling me to get lost.
Pleasant kid, really. She’s just like me.
We’ve been trying to find someone new to look after Penny while Mom’s
at work, but it’s difficult to find someone within our budget. Our old
neighbor had only agreed because she said she needed something to do.
I’m absently clicking around on my laptop when the doorbell rings.
Thankfully, Penny doesn’t stir from her sleep. I put my laptop on the coffee
table and make my way to the door, wondering if we were expecting
anyone today.
A woman with her hair in a bun greets me. “Good morning. Is this where
Penelope Jennings lives?”
“Yeah…?”
“My name’s Charlotte, from Diamond Healthcare. I’m her new day
nurse.”
 “Huh?” I stare at her dumbly, taking this in. She sounds expensive as
fuck, and I’m sure Mom didn’t hire her. “I think there’s been some
mistake.”
“No mistake.” She smiles and hands me a document. It’s got Penny’s
name on it, as well as details from her company. The document also shows
her salary was paid three months in advance. “Mr. Sandoval asked me to let
you know that he’ll be renewing the contract as long as you need my
services.”
What the fuck?
“Sandoval?” I squeak. “Nick?”
“Daniel Sandoval.”
Nick’s dad? What the hell is going on? How did he even know where I
lived?
“May I come in? I’d love to meet Penelope.”
“Oh, uh. Penny’s asleep… but yeah, come in.”
I’m in a trance as I lead her in, and she asks all these questions about
Penny’s condition. She’s writing in a notebook and jots down her medicines
and her routine, and everything else about her condition. Charlotte even
asks me about Penny’s school and says she will make sure Penny’s on top
of her study materials while she’s here.
I call Mom to let her know what’s happening, and she’s so enthusiastic
that she sniffles. And when Penny wakes up, she’s groggy and stares at
Charlotte as if she’s a hallucination, and I watch as Charlotte introduces
herself. Penny seems wary but instantly warms up to Charlotte, and I
breathe a sigh of relief.
Ducking into the kitchen, I bring my phone out and my finger hovers
over Nick’s number. I can’t believe he asked his dad to arrange this. It must
cost them a fortune, and in any other circumstance, I’d feel bad about
imposing—but this is for Penny. Neither Mom nor I are equipped to give
her the care she really needs.
And… this means I can go back to the campus.
I end up not texting Nick because I don’t even know what to tell him.
The things I said to him… god. What’s wrong with me? I kept my
distance because of what he said on New Year’s, and then I lashed out at
him when I wasn’t only frustrated at him but also at everything else.
And he just stood there and took it.
And… despite that all, he’s done this for me.
 Fuck. I scrub a hand over my face, and my heart thrums in my chest.
I don’t deserve him.
And in a moment of clarity, I realize that I will do everything to change
that.

***

As soon as Mom gets home and I’m sure that Charlotte’s settled in, I get in
my car and drive back to campus. After some thought, I brilliantly decided
I’m going to drag Nick back to my house to spend the night with us.
I debate calling him first, or at least texting him, but then again, I’m not
about to give him a choice. He’s coming with me, whether he likes it or not.
The sun’s setting when I finally make it back to campus. When I get to
our room, Nick has his feet up on the wall and is hanging his head off the
edge of the bed as he doomscrolls. He stares at me upside-down and sits up
so quickly that he winces from the head rush.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “How’s Penny?”
I had a whole speech all thought out. On my entire drive here, I knew
what I was going to say. There was an apology in there, a lot of thank yous,
and even a part where I tell him that he’s the best thing ever to happen to
me.
But then now that he’s actually in front of me, I don’t have any words.
My throat constricts and my chest is tight, and all I can do is fist my hands
to my side. Nick’s eyebrows furrow in concern.
I let my actions speak for me instead. It only takes a few quick strides to
reach him, and when I cup his jaw and lean down, Nick immediately tilts
his chin up and meets me halfway. He opens for me without any hesitation.
Without any questions asked. The moment our lips touch, it’s as if a dam’s
been broken in me. I don’t even have a way to put into words the way my
emotions surge out.
It’s been a while since I’ve kissed him, and I remember what I’ve been
missing out, and it’s a wonder I could hold out this long.
Nick clutches at the front of my shirt, and when I pull away to study his
face, he says, “I missed you.”
“Hasn’t even been a few days since I’ve been away.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
I close my eyes and lean my forehead against his. “I know.”
 I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I almost gave up on us.
“Pack your shit,” I suddenly say.
Nick huffs a laugh. “What, you’re kicking me out?”
“No, you’re spending the night at my place.”
Nick stares. “What…? Caleb, we’ve got a game this Sunday.”
“So? It’s only Friday, and we’ll be back by tomorrow. Move your ass.”
His face lights up, his smile spreading wide, and my heart clenches. Nick
asks, “You’re playing?”
I can’t help but crack a smile. This guy, making me all gooey and shit.
“I’m playing because some golden boy couldn’t mind his own business and
got someone to look after my little sister.”
He laughs. Still, he doesn’t get up. I take it upon myself to grab the bag
he keeps under his bed, and I zip it open, and Nick finally moves when I
pinch his leg. He moves hesitantly as he grabs clothes for an overnight stay,
and I watch him from the edge of his bed.
I rub my neck. “Thank you. I’ll pay your dad back, I promise.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I will, though. And I’ll take over the payments the moment that I can.”
After a pause, I add in a low voice, “I can’t believe you did that for me.”
“It’s no big deal. My dad’s company runs many charities, and they
sponsor these kinds of things a lot.”
“Yes, but… you rarely ask your dad for anything.”
Nick turns away, facing his closet. I’m wondering if this is another
moment where he’s going to shut down, which would suck since we’re
doing so fucking well.
Then he mumbles, way too softly, “I’d do anything for you.”
A knot lodges in my throat, and I sit there and simply say nothing in
stunned silence.
He plops down on the floor and pulls his bag closer. Nick’s cheeks are red
and his hands waiver as he packs, and he refuses to look at me even if I’m
watching him. Hard.
Would he talk to his dad about going pro if I asked?
No… I shouldn’t bring that up.
Nick zips his bag shut. “Uh. I think that’s it.”
“All right, let’s go.”
He still seems taken aback by this whole thing, but in typical Nick
fashion, he doesn’t complain—he simply relents. But before we can head
out, I fist him by the front of his shirt. His eyes widen and I grin at him,
yanking him close and kissing him again.
I pull away and hold him by the jaw, forcing him to look at me. “I’m
sorry I’ve been a dick to you lately.”
“You weren’t.”
“I really, really was.”
He smiles. “Okay, but it’s not as if that’s anything new. Besides,
apparently, I like dicks.”
Smirking, I smack him lightly. “Apparently. Seriously, though, Nick. I’m
sorry. I couldn’t wrap my head around you refusing to talk to your dad, and
I still can’t, but… that’s not really my decision, and I was wrong.”
His throat bobs and he nods, and I know he’s about to look away again,
so I tighten my grip on his jaw.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. His expression flashes with hesitation once
more, and I can’t hold back. I need to prod him to speak his mind. Again.
“What’s on your mind, Nicky?”
He bites on his lip. “I don’t know how to say this, but I feel as if I need
to… I didn’t ask my dad for a favor to win you back. If you’re tired of me,
you don’t need to feel obligated—”
“Tired of you?” A surprised laugh escapes me.
“Yes. That’s what was happening, right? All I’m saying is that if you want
to end this”—he waves a hand between us—“then it’s okay. It changes
nothing and Penny will still have someone to look after her, and I won’t
hold it against you.”
“Baby,” I say, and he sucks in a breath. “You’re closed off, can’t speak up
for yourself, and you put up this weird perfect image that annoys the hell
out of me.”
“Please continue,” he says dryly, smiling.
“But I like you. A lot. I like how you work hard and you play hard, and
how dopey you get when you’re genuinely happy.” I pause. “And I like how
you fuck me real nice.”
He groans. “Caleb!”
I can’t help it—I kiss him again. He’s fucking intoxicating, and I want to
drown in him. I’ve never felt about anyone like this before, and when Nick
threads his fingers through my hair and tugs me close, there’s another surge
of emotion that escape me. Seriously, what’s that about me?
 I’m a smart guy, though. When I think about it for a while more, I’m able
to put a name to that rush.
It’s me falling in love with him, full speed ahead and with no hesitation.

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 30

Nick

A smyCaleb leads the way to his house, I wipe my clammy hands against
jeans. I’m not sure why I’m antsy about meeting his mom. Caleb
says she’s wonderful, and I’m sure she is, but I have the very strong urge to
make a good impression.
“Relax,” Caleb says, pulling on my hand. He doesn’t call out how cold
my skin is, and we step into his cozy two-story house. There are some
shuffling noises coming from down the hallway, but it’s otherwise silent.
Caleb takes my bag from me and deposits it at the foot of the stairs, then
he grips my hand and pulls me down the hall. We end up in the kitchen
where his mom is putting away plates, and she perks up as soon as she sees
us, circling around the counter and giving us the widest smile.
His mom is a head shorter than him and has the same eyes he does,
though her hair is pitch-black. I wonder if he got his light hair from his
dad’s side?
“Hello, ma’am.” Caleb’s still holding my hand, which I forgot about and
makes me blush. I shake my hand out of his and offer it to his mom.
“Call me Naomi.” She smiles at me warmly and then takes a step closer,
suddenly wrapping me in a tight embrace.
“Yeah, she’s a hugger,” Caleb says dryly.
“Shush.” She swats at him and pulls away. Holding me by the arms,
Naomi says, “Thank you for what you did for Penny.”
 “It’s nothing.”
Caleb huffs a laugh. “That’s his favorite word.”
She swats him again and rolls her eyes. “Stop it. Have you eaten dinner,
Nick?”
“Yes, we got some burgers on our way back,” I say.
“No wonder you both took so long.” From over her shoulder, Caleb
flashes me a sly grin. The reason we took so long was because we got…
distracted before we actually got to his car. His mom, oblivious, continues
talking. “Penny tried staying up, but she got too tired, and I convinced her
to sleep. Come, Nick. Let me get you some extra blankets from the
cabinet.”
Caleb’s mom pulls me along, hooking an arm around mine. She chatters
as we walk through their hallway, and I glimpse their living room—their
Christmas tree is still up, and there are books scattered all over the carpet. It
feels nothing like Dad’s penthouse, which is mostly space and hard corners.
Naomi tells me about Penny’s new nurse, Charlotte. She’s going to be
around during the weekdays, then on the weekends, there’s another person
coming in—I didn’t even know that. Dad really went out of his way and
took care of everything.
She grabs a blanket from a cabinet and hands it to me, and my stare drifts
to Caleb who’s following behind us with a slight grin on his face.
“Do you prefer pancakes or waffles in the morning? Or something else?”
Naomi asks, catching me off-guard.
“Oh. Uh… either.”
“Let me know, and I’ll run to the store and get what you want real quick.”
“Ma, no need to go out of your way,” Caleb cuts in, and her cheeks
redden, and she giggles.
“Am I being too much?” she asks. “It’s the first time Caleb’s brought a
boyfriend home, and I don’t know how to act.”
“Ma!” Caleb protests, and his grin wavers as he glowers at her.
Is it because she called me his boyfriend?
“Don’t let me keep you up,” she says, ushering us towards the stairs.
“Caleb, go show Nick your room.”
Caleb mumbles incoherently, then he kisses her on the cheek and says
good night. I grab my bag and follow him up the stairs, noting how his
shoulders are stiff and how he runs a hand through his hair.
 His room’s not that bigger than our dorm, and his bed’s as small as the
ones we’ve got. I scrub a hand over my face, remembering how he teased
me earlier about how he needed to make me come my brains out, because it
was the only way to get me not to beat him up in my sleep. Then he got on
his knees and blew me.
I subtly adjust my pants, not wanting to draw attention to it, especially
with how uncharacteristically quiet Caleb’s being. He gives me a forced
smile and takes his shirt off, and even if I just saw him naked an hour ago,
my dick still stands to attention.
God. Apparently, I’m insatiable when it comes to him.
Caleb pulls on a fresh shirt, and I pout once I’m no longer being treated
to the view of his amazing abs and pierced nipples. I’m still pouting as I
change my clothes as well, and Caleb tells me that the bathroom’s the door
down the hall if I need it. When I tell him I’m going to go brush my teeth,
he says we should just go together, and we end up sharing the single mirror.
It’s so… domestic. I still can’t believe that this is the same guy I’ve been
sharing a room with for months now, but also the same guy who I clashed
with so much at the start. How did we even get here?
We settle into his too small bed, and I smile at him in the dim room.
There’s light from a lamppost right outside his window that lets me see his
face, and I run my fingers through his hair and watch his eyes flutter.
“Caleb?” I murmur. “Earlier, when your mom called me your boyfriend,
did that bother you? You didn’t seem happy about it.”
He shakes his head. “Just caught off-guard because we haven’t actually
talked about it.”
“Oh. I actually assumed—” I press my lips together, realizing I’m about
to say something monumentally stupid.
Caleb flicks my ear. “Assumed what?”
When I keep quiet, he glares at me and pinches my arm.
“Ow!” I frown, and Caleb snickers and presses his lips against mine. He
holds me by the jaw and slips his tongue between my lips, and I open for
him. No matter how often we do this, it still makes my heart hammer as if
it’s the first time.
Smirking, Caleb cups me through my sweats, and I squeak in surprise.
“We can’t do that here,” I complain.
“Not doing anything.” He lazily gropes me, thumbing at the head of my
dick in the slowest, agonizing way possible.
 I rock against his hand, frustrated that he clearly has no intention of going
any further.
When my thoughts melt into a pleasant thrumming, Caleb lets go and I
glower at him. He grins. “What did you assume?”
This guy doesn’t play fair.
“I assumed we were seeing each other,” I admit. “I know we called it
casual at the start, but it hasn’t felt that way for me in a while—which, in
retrospect, I probably should have said way earlier just to see if we were on
the same page.”
His eyes widen and his mouth parts. “Oh, wait. We’re dating?”
“You spent New Year’s with me.” Nervously, I play with the waistband of
his sweats. “And when we started this, I told you I don’t share… you
haven’t been with anyone else, have you?”
Caleb grins wickedly. “If I were?”
“Caleb,” I warn, gripping his hip. He knows how possessive I can be.
“No. Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to you. I’d fear for their safety
with how jealous you can get… and, kidding aside, I know you just got out
of a relationship where she…”
His voice trails off, but I get it. We both get it. He knows what Jessie did
to me.
“Yeah, so…” I stare at him, wondering why he isn’t getting this. “I think
we’ve been dating for a while now. Calling it casual but exclusive was silly
from the start.”
“Oh, fuck.” He smiles wide and his eyes lighten up. “Shit, you’re right.
We’re boyfriends.”
“Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay, dumbass.” Caleb laughs and grips my hair, yanking
me close. He sucks on my lips and grips my cock through my sweats once
more, and I curse and thrust into his hand.
“Stop it,” I say. “Your sister’s sleeping in the next room.”
And, just like that, he lets go and scowls. “Well, that’s the biggest vibe
killer ever.”
I laugh against his lips. “Don’t worry,” I assure him. “We’ve got all the
time in the world.”
“Yes, because we’re dating. We’re actual boyfriends.” He pats my head,
ever so patronizing. “You have no clue what you’re getting into, baby. Just
wait and see. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever.”
 Smiling, I nod at him. Despite his cockiness, I know he’s right.
The silence of the room is soothing, and Caleb lightly scrapes his nails
against my scalp. It makes my eyes droop—I haven’t really had a good
night’s sleep since he’s left me alone in our dorm. My own voice sounds
distant when I mumble, “Your mom’s really lovely, by the way.”
“I know,” he says smugly. “She’s amazing. Raised two kids on her own
after our shitty excuse of a dad ran out on us.”
I don’t think Caleb’s ever mentioned his dad before this. I’ve never
wanted to prod in case it was a sensitive issue, and my curiosity piques and
I blink at him. I want to know everything about him, even the things that are
difficult to talk about.
“When did your dad leave you?” I murmur.
“Penny was around five, I think. She was in and out of the hospital and
while we were getting a diagnosis for her, our medical bills were racking
up. He didn’t have a job and didn’t help around the house either, and instead
of stepping up, the asshole left. He couldn’t take it, I guess.”
“You haven’t seen him since?”
“Nope. Not sure if he’s ever tried getting in touch with us again, and I
don’t care.” Nothing in his expression gives away how he feels, though his
fingers falter in my hair for a moment. “Better this way, though. He was
useless and made Mom cry a lot. Literally nothing changed when he left,
except that we didn’t have to deal with him.”
“You stepped up, though.” I hold his gaze. “Your family’s lucky they
have you.”
He scoffs. “Come on.”
“It’s true. Despite being last year’s champions, you transferred to
Camrose just to be close to them. You work despite already having a busy
schedule so you can help them out as much as you can. You’re incredible.”
Caleb gives me a lop-sided grin but doesn’t say anything. I’m not sure he
even believes me.
It really is true, though. He has a tough exterior because of a rough
childhood, but he’s also incredibly thoughtful and sweet. He takes care of
everyone around him, including me, and I should never have taken that for
granted.
“I’m not incredible. I’m an asshole, really,” he tells me.
I bite my lower lip. “You? Noo.”
 Caleb snickers and leans in until our noses touch. “Want to know a
secret? I get envious easily. When I see someone who has a perfect life, it
makes me angry… which I know is unreasonable, but I can’t help it. That’s
why I like to rile people up. People seem much less perfect when I get
under their skin.”
“Caleb,” I say, not being able to help the laugh that escapes me. “Is that…
is that why you threatened to knock me out that one time we were up
against each other?”
“Nah, babe. I really did lose my cool that time. We were down and I was
struggling and giving it my all, and you weren’t even breaking a sweat.
Then you kept smiling at me like you weren’t kicking our asses.”
“I wasn’t trying to make you angry.”
“Yeah, I know that now. “
That makes me chuckle, and Caleb gives me a kiss and pulls away when I
try to deepen it.
“What was your childhood like, Nicky?” he asks. “You’ve told me about
your mom’s cooking. What else? I want to know everything.”
I hesitate for a moment. As much as I want to open up to him, it’s
difficult—but then again, if I want to know every piece of him, then I owe
him the same.
“I grew up with my mom,” I tell him. He nods, already knowing this.
“She was amazing… kind of like your mom. We lived in an apartment that
was just right for us, and her sisters would come over a lot.”
“Do you still see your mom’s side of the family?”
“Yeah, sometimes. They live in Watertown, and I drive there sometimes.
They’d love to meet you.”
“Yeah?” He grins. “You going to introduce me as your boyfriend?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitance, noting the way his eyes widen in pleasant
surprise. “But… yeah. It was mostly only me and Mom.”
There must be something in my voice because Caleb’s eyes soften. “We
don’t have to talk about this. I mean, I want to know, but… we don’t have
to.”
“I want to tell you, don’t worry.” Smiling, I reach for his hand in the dark.
“I didn’t really understand why Dad didn’t live with us, though he was there
for all the important stuff like birthdays and graduations. He brought
Dianne with him sometimes, and she wasn’t… she was never cold to me,
but always very distant and quiet. I think I was in the first grade or so when
I asked Mom why our family was different from the others.”
“And… she told you everything?”
“Yes. She said that she and Dad weren’t together, that they met one night
and made a mistake.” My voice hitches at that last word, and it makes
Caleb’s eyebrows furrow, but he keeps silent. I remember Mom wincing
when she used that same word, but then seven-year-old me had brushed it
off until I fully understood it years later. “Dianne was Dad’s wife, not her,
she told me. When my mom get very sick and passed away, Dad took me in,
and I remember that I wouldn’t even talk to Dianne because I was so
ashamed. Like, I’d literally hide around a corner if I knew she was around.”
“Nicky…”
“She caught me hiding once and she got this look of clarity on her, as if
she never realized I was doing that. That’s when she started being less
distant to me and would reach out when she could. We’ve always had an
awkward relationship, though.”
“It’s not your fault. None of that is on you.”
“I know, but the brain’s a tricky thing. Anyway, that’s…” I force a shrug.
“That’s why I am the way I am.”
Caleb grips my hip—I don’t even remember when he put his hand there.
He nods slowly, his forehead against mine, mumbling, “Okay. Okay, baby.”
“I’m sorry. I know you don’t understand why I won’t even talk to Dad
about the NHL, but—”
He cuts me off with a kiss. “It’s okay,” he says. “I won’t even bring it up
again.”
That makes me smile. “Thank you.”
“But just so you know, you have nothing to be ashamed of. At all. You’re
so fucking flawless that it should be a crime. I’d yell to the world that you
were my boyfriend, if you let me.” Caleb titters. “Actually, could I? At our
next practice, can I get the attention of the entire team and tell them we’re
together?”
Cheeks flaming, I groan and bury my face in his neck. “Caleb,” I whine,
and he presses his lips against my hair. “I don’t mind you telling people, but
announcing it like that? I’m not sure how I feel being the center of attention
in that way.”
“Okay, then I’ll just hold your hand and kiss you when I want to, and they
can figure it out themselves.”
 I stifle a laugh. “That works.”
My mind has always been too noisy but talking to Caleb like this and
melting in his arms, my thoughts settle somewhat. I could get used to this.

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 31

Caleb

B reakfast is… something. Mom goes all out, even if I asked her not to.
She must have gone out while we were all asleep, because suddenly,
we’ve got bowls of fruits, pancakes, and juice. Penny’s enthusiastic even if
she doesn’t have an appetite, though when her gaze flickers to Nick, she
scowls.
“Be nice,” I tell her. I’m not sure why she’s pretending to not like Nick—
I know that she does, because she wouldn’t have sent me home on New
Year’s otherwise. Also, when she found out that Nick’s the reason she has a
new nurse, Penny had hugged me and told me to thank him for her.
And now she’s pretending that never happened.
I grin at Penny. “You wanted to thank Nick, right?”
Penny flushes. “No! I mean… uh.” Her lower lip wobbling, she faces
Nick and swallows. “Thank you. For the nurse. And for making my dumb
brother happy, because I know he didn’t want to miss his games.”
“Hey!”
Nick, clearly not knowing how to respond, shoves a spoonful of fruit in
his mouth.
Right after the feast Mom prepared, Nick and I head back to campus. I
never thought I’d be thrilled to be back, even if it’s only been a few days
since I left. It’s grown on me, I guess. That the team has a fighting chance
to go all the way to this year’s conference championships has a lot to do
with it.
The entire drive, Nick’s antsy in my passenger seat. He keeps tugging at
his shirt and running a hand through his hair, and after the third time of
catching him staring at my mouth, I figure he’s still worked up from my
teasing last night.
I can’t blame him. I’m worked up too, and the moment we get to our
room, I’m tasting every inch of him.

***

As soon as we step into our room, we drop our bags to the floor and I’m on
him even before the door’s closed. I clutch his hair and kiss him open-
mouthed, and he groans against me. Nick steps us both back to push the
door closed, but not before someone calls out to him from outside.
“Hey! Nick!” A hand slams against the door and we both peel ourselves
off each other. I scowl and adjust my pants, hiding my erection, and Nick
blushes and does the same. Rhys lets himself in, and it takes all my
willpower not to pick a fight with him.
Rhys looks between us with an arched eyebrow.
“What’s going on? You both look guilty. You two fighting?” he asks.
“Thought you won’t be around for a while, Jennings?”
“Get lost,” I snap.
“Charming.”
I really, really wish Rhys gets lost, but I don’t think he’s going to budge.
He sits on Nick’s desk chair, talking to Nick about something I don’t care
about, and I drown out their conversation.
Plopping down on my bed, I take my phone out. I have a message from
Maddox asking me where I am, and I tell him I’m back on campus all
thanks to Nick. And him. Because I know he’s the one who gave Nick my
address and Penny’s details.
After a few more minutes of Rhys not getting the hell out, I peer over at
Nick, who meets my eyes with a sheepish smile. He scratches the back of
his head and shrugs.
Maybe I should take matters into my own hands and tell him point-blank
to go because I want to be fucked by my boyfriend? Nick might bust a vein,
though. I finally listen in to their conversation and apparently, Rhys is
inviting Nick to go bowling with Schultz and him.
Dork.
Rhys gets up and gestures for Nick to do the same. “Come on, Schultz
needs cheering up.”
Nick turns to me. “Want to join?”
“I’d rather stab myself in the eye.”
“Caleb,” Nick says with a laugh.
“I have plans with Maddox,” I lie, and I know Nick can see right through
me because the plans I actually had were to get Nick in me.
“So invite him along,” Rhys interjects.
“Ah? You want to spend time with me, Captain?”
He shrugs and I don’t miss the way he glances at Nick. “Sure. Might as
well attempt to get along, right?”
Well, fuck. If Rhys is going to be the bigger person and attempt to play
nice with me, then I probably should do the same—after all, I told Nick that
I’m going to be the best boyfriend ever. I think attempting to be cool with
his best friend is one requirement.
“Fine, I’ll tell Maddox we’re picking him up on the way.” Maddox has no
choice now. He has to come along if I’m going to survive this.
We meet Schultz downstairs. He’s not his usual energetic and obnoxious
self—he’s got a baseball cap drawn low over his eyes and his shoulders are
slumped. According to Rhys, he’s having trouble with one of his classes and
his scholarship’s on the line.
Rhys leads the way to his car and Schultz gets in the passenger seat
beside him, and Nick and I get in the backseat.
“Have you found a tutor?” Nick asks Schultz. “I can help you out.”
Schultz shakes his head. “Nah, Nick, your grades are amazing, but you’re
a terrible tutor. We tried that last year, remember? Nothing stuck—hey!”
“My bad,” I say, pretending I kicked the back of his seat by accident.
The car turns the corner towards the street where Maddox’s dorm is.
Schultz peers out the window. “This isn’t the way to the bowling alley.”
“Quick detour.” There’s humor in Rhys’s voice. “Maddox is coming.”
That immediately perks Schultz up. “Seriously?”
Wait. Fuck. Being cock-blocked annoyed me so much I completely forgot
my mission to never introduce Schultz to Maddox.
 My mood takes a dive. Listen, I like Schultz, I really do… but the reason
I refuse to indulge his crush on Maddox is because, as evidence shows, he’s
a playboy who has a string of casual relationships.
Which, good for him.
Normally I wouldn’t give a fuck, and I know I shouldn’t interfere, but
this is Maddox. I’ve never been reasonable when it came to him.
Though, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a total ass. I did actually ask
Maddox the other day, very hypothetically, if he’d want to know if one of
my teammates were into him. I’m not sure if he was so deep into the paper
he was working on that the question didn’t register, but he shook his head
absently, and that was that.
Schultz says, “He’s the teaching assistant in my statistics class this
semester. You think he’ll recognize me from class, or from when I run into
you two?”
“No. Don’t hit on him, Schultz. I don’t think he’ll be into it.”
“We’ll see about that.”
I make a move to flick him, but Nick immediately pulls me back before I
can.
Maddox is waiting outside his dorm, and I open the door and wave him
over. He gets in beside me, sandwiching me between him and Nick.
I wave around the car. “You already know Nick, and this is Morgan…
and. Ugh. This is Schultz.”
“Those are your actual names, or your jock names?” Maddox asks, and I
wheeze.
Schultz turns in his seat. “You can call him Rhys, and I’m Ki—”
“Great, thank you.” I cut him off and push his shoulder to get him to look
forward again. Schultz glowers at me through the rearview mirror at the
same time that Maddox lifts his eyebrows at me.

***

Nick spreads his fingers against the small of my back. “Stop glaring. You
like Schultz, right?”
If anything, I glare even harder. “I don’t like him right now.”
“Because he’s flirting with Maddox? What’s wrong with that?”
“He’s no good for him.”
“He’s flirting with him, Caleb, not proposing. He’s a good guy.”
 “Not good enough for Madd, though.”
I continue to glare at Schultz, who hasn’t left Maddox alone since we got
out of the car. They’re at the counter booking games for us, and we’re
seated by an empty lane. Chatter and the sound of rolling balls surround us,
and someone a few lanes down cheers as he gets a strike.
Schultz’s mood ricocheted from gloomy to… whatever this is as soon as
my best friend appeared, and it’s grating on my nerves. I know Maddox can
hold his own, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be intensely protective.
It’s kind of like how Rhys is with Nick.
“Let’s play two versus two,” Schultz says when Nick and I approach the
group. “Me and Maddox versus Rhys and Nick.”
I scowl. He’s definitely messing with me now. “What am I, a
centerpiece?” I look at Nick for backup, but he only suppresses a smile.
We end up taking two lanes to play, and my teammates seem surprised
about how good Maddox is at bowling. It’s not a shock to me, though. My
best friend’s spurned by competitiveness. It’s one reason we get along so
well.
Nick keeps trying to distract me from giving Schultz hard stares, and
Rhys only seems amused by the entire thing.
Maddox seems completely oblivious to Schultz’s flirting. That, or he
couldn’t care less. Knowing him, it could be either of the two.
“You’re like an attack dog,” Rhys tells me when we’re in-between games
and Maddox totally killed it. His score dwarfed all of ours, and Rhys and I
are waiting by the seats as the other guys grab drinks.
I frown at Rhys. “As if you’re any better.”
He raises his hands. “Hey, I’ve backed off a lot. I permanently switched
our names on the room assignments on away games, didn’t I?”
“Wow, thanks.”
“I kept the guys from going into the showers too, that one time you two
were fooling around.”
This revelation would embarrass any other person—but I’m me, and I
only give him a wicked grin. “I knew you were smarter than you let on,
Captain. How long have you known we’ve been fucking around?”
“Weeks? Neither of you is exactly subtle about it.”
I lift my chin. “Does Nick talk about me?”
“When he’s not sulking about you, he does.”
“What does he say?”
 “That you’re a pain in the ass.”
“Try again. He’d never say that.” Smirking, I add, “Besides, he’s the pain
in my ass. Literally.”
He stares at me for a moment, then realization dawns on him and his
confusion turns to horror. “Goddamn it, Jennings. I don’t need to know
that.”
“Know what?” Nick sidles up next to us with a tray of sodas.
“That you top him,” Rhys says, and Nick jolts and almost drops the tray.
My boyfriend looks like he’s contemplating getting the hell out of here or
wrapping his fingers around my throat. I hope it’s the latter.
“Anyway,” I point out. “That means you need to quit showing up in our
room with no warning. You were almost about to walk into a porno earlier,
you know?”
“Caleb!” Nick hisses.
Rhys shudders. “God. Fine. Never again.”
“Why are you like this?” Nick levels a stare at me.
I shrug. “Nicky, please. Did you think I’d change just because we’re
boyfriends now?”
He huffs a laugh and shakes his head, and I can see the fondness behind
it. “No.”
“Wait up.” Eyes wide, Rhys points between us. “I thought you were only
fucking around. You’re actually boyfriends?”
“Yes,” we say in unison. Surprised at how sync we are, I turn to Nick and
beam. We’re perfect.
My good mood is, unfortunately, short-lived because as soon as Maddox
and Schultz make their way over, I overhear Schultz challenging Maddox to
a bet.
Goddamn it. He’s figured out the secret to getting Maddox to agree to do
anything—my weirdly competitive best friend never turns down a
challenge.
“Come on,” Schultz says. “What? Scared?”
Maddox frowns. “I just beat all of you.”
“So you’ve got nothing to lose. If I win the next round, you tutor me. And
if you win… what do you want?”
“Nothing. I don’t care about this bet.”
“Because you know you’d lose, baby.”
 That makes me scowl. I hate it when he calls Nick that, and apparently, I
hate it just as much when he calls my best friend that. Annoyed, I’m about
to get up and interfere when Maddox lets out a loud scoff.
And just like that, I know Schultz is going to get what he wants.
“Fine,” Maddox says. “If you win, I’ll tutor you once. If I win, you stop
staring at me all the time.”
“You actually recognize me?”
“Clearly. Your staring’s distracting, and I’d like you to stop.”
“He recognizes me!” Schultz turns to us, his face all lit up.
“You… you heard everything else he said, right?” Rhys asks with
disbelief, and Schultz ignores him and pumps a fist in the air.

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 32

Nick

I can tell Caleb’s trying his best not to interfere with Maddox and Schultz,
but when the latter scores a strike and gets ahead of Maddox, Caleb
groans and buries his face in his hands. This protective side of him is really
endearing, and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face.
“Relax.” I squeeze his wrist. “Even if he loses, Maddox can take care of
himself.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you on edge?”
“Because!”
I give him a skeptical look. Caleb bites his cheek and sinks in his seat,
glaring at the screen that displays our scores.
“I need to get my head together,” Caleb mumbles. “Distract me, Nicky.”
“Maybe we should make our own bet,” I joke.
That gets his attention. “Let’s do that.”
I eye our scores. I don’t think he’s too concerned with winning, since he
doesn’t seem to be putting that much effort into it. Maddox and Schultz are
way ahead of us, then Rhys, then there’s Caleb and I.
Caleb puts a hand on the back of my neck and leans in, whispering in my
ear, “Whoever wins will top tonight.”
A shiver runs through me and my dick twitches in my pants. Awkwardly,
I shift in my seat and gently push him away. “Don’t get me worked up
while there are people around,” I complain.
Caleb, of course, doesn’t care. He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Well?”
I stare at him blankly.
He hasn’t fucked me yet. It’s not that I don’t want it, but Caleb’s always
taken the lead and I’m happy enough letting him—though that also means
that he doesn’t ask me for anything. It’s always been about me. He’s always
taking care of me first.
Caleb’s grin doesn’t falter as he squeezes my arm. “Relax, Nicky. If
you’re not okay with me fucking you, then I’m cool with that.”
“I’d let you top. I already told you that.”
“Okay, so let’s put it to a bet.”
“Why? We don’t have to. I’ll let you do anything.”
He groans at my words and rubs a hand over his face, but it’s true. Even
if it makes me nervous because it’s something entirely new, I want him in
me. I don’t care about the stupid game at all.
“Jennings!” Rhys calls. “Your turn.”
Caleb gets up and walks towards the balls. He grins at me again and
cocks his head towards the pins, taunting me, and I can’t help but laugh.
Probably spurned on by this one-sided challenge of his, Caleb easily makes
a strike—and my theory that he hasn’t been putting in effort so far sounds
truer now.
When he’s done, it’s my turn, and I get up to retrieve a ball. He walks up
to me and grabs me by the arm, pulling me close.
“Looks like I’m going to be in you tonight,” Caleb mutters.
“I already said you don’t need a bet for that.”
“Going to make you feel so good, baby.”
Fumbling, I almost drop a bowling ball on my foot. I secure it in my hand
and glare at him, and he cackles and walks away.
And, okay, even if I said he doesn’t need a bet… I’m also competitive as
hell, and I end up striking as well. My face lights up, and when I turn back
around, my friends are cheering. Caleb laughs and shakes his head, and I
grin at him.
As the game nears the end, Maddox and Schultz finish first and Schultz
actually scores more. He yells in surprise, as if even he can’t believe it, and
Maddox scowls at him. When Schultz isn’t looking though, Maddox’s
scowl turns into an amused smirk.
 I look at Caleb, wondering if he saw that his best friend lost, but Caleb’s
on his phone with a focused expression.
“Jennings! Your turn,” Rhys says, impatient. I think he’s over the game
now.
“Wait a sec,” Caleb says. “Kinda busy here.” He doesn’t look up and
swipes at his phone.
Maddox peeks over his shoulder. “What are you looking at? Oh… shit.
Oh, shit!”
Everyone turns to them. Maddox grabs him by the arms and shakes him,
and Caleb’s face splits into the widest and earnest smile I’ve ever seen on
him.
“You did it!” Maddox yells. “Nick, Buffalo said his entry-level contract’s
waiting for him as soon as school’s over!”
“He’s… what?” It takes a moment for it to click, but when it does, I get
giddy all over. “Buffalo’s gotten in touch?”
Caleb grins. “McAvoy says that I’ve still got some shit to work on but
that I’m going straight to the NHL. No farm team for me.”
“Congratulations, man!” Schultz yells, and beside him, Rhys is also
smiling.
The game forgotten now, I approach Caleb, and he willingly lets me crush
him into a hug. He laughs against my neck and clutches at my shirt, and I
don’t care if we’ve got an audience when I kiss his cheek.
“Oh. Ohh.” Schultz points us at, eyes wide. I can practically see the cogs
turning in his head, and Caleb snickers at his reaction. “Okay. Shit. I didn’t
want to ask, but yeah, I thought you two were banging.”
Rhys wheezes. “They’re dating.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said.”
Rolling his eyes, Caleb puts an arm around my waist and pulls me close.
“The game,” he says, gesturing at the pins.
“Fuck the game!” Schultz says, and I don’t think any of us can disagree.

***

Caleb’s enthusiasm sticks for the rest of the afternoon. He doesn’t even care
anymore that Maddox lost to Schultz, or that Maddox has somehow
warmed up to him in a few hours. We drop Maddox off at the dorm and
then head back to ours, and Schultz bombards Caleb with questions the
entire time.
“Does this mean you won’t play for us anymore?” Schultz asks.
In the backseat, Caleb has his hand in mine, and I mindlessly trace circles
against his palm.
“Nah, I’m only signing the contract after the school year’s over. I get to
finish off my senior year playing.” Caleb cocks his head. “This means we
better make it count, assholes.”
Rhys, usually annoyed by Caleb’s brashness, surprisingly nods. “We need
to make it to post-season.”
“To the frozen four,” Caleb corrects.
“Tall order, but maybe we can.”
Schultz slams his fist against the dashboard and yells, “That’s the spirit!”
We get to the dorm and Rhys parks his car, and Caleb practically drags
me out. I protest, but he ignores me, and he mock-salutes my friends.
“Great day, Beavis and Butt-Head. Now excuse us while we go celebrate.”
“We’re not invited?” Schultz asks.
Rhys grimaces. “I don’t think you want to be.”
Caleb ignores them and drags me by the hand. When we get to the empty
elevator, I smile at him and let go, sliding my hand to the back of his neck
and squeezing it. He closes his eyes as I rub against the base of his scalp.
“We never found out who won our bet,” he grumbles.
“I told you, I’ll let you do anything to me, anyway.”
The elevator doors open, and thank god the hall’s empty, because Caleb
grabs me by the face and kisses me until I’m dizzy. We stumble out to the
hallway, grasping at each other, and pull away just long enough to head to
our door.
I wait impatiently as he fishes his keys out of his pocket. He takes two
tries to get the correct one into the doorknob, and as soon as we step inside,
he slams me up against the wall and bites down on my lower lip.
“Caleb,” I groan. He rocks up against me and my vision goes hazy with
lust.
“You serious, Nicky? You’ll let me fuck you?”
“Yes.” There’s impatience in my voice, but I’ve been wanting this for far
too long. I couldn’t ask because what if I wasn’t any good at it—what if he
hated it? But with Caleb bringing it up again today, and with him looking at
me as if he’d devour me, there’s no ounce of hesitation in me any longer.
 I want him in me. My body craves for it.
“Clothes off,” Caleb commands, and we both hurry to strip.
Caleb pushes me down on his bed, and he rummages around in his
drawer. He tosses the supplies on the mattress, right next to my head, then
presses our foreheads together and kisses me. Our dicks are hard against
each other, and I’m breathing hard, nervous with both anticipation and
excitement, and Caleb smiles against my mouth before pulling away.
“You need to promise me you’ll tell me to stop if you hate it,” he tells me.
“Yes. Yes, I get it.”
“You never tell me what you need.”
“I’ll tell you,” I say. “God, Caleb, what I need right now is to have you in
me.”
His eyebrows lift in surprise, then a wicked smirk spreads across his
features. Caleb pushes my knees up, folding me, and I hear him tear the
condom wrapper open. He fiddles around with the bottle of lube, and I shut
my eyes, unable to concentrate.
I may have experimented a bit before, especially since we started messing
around, but having Caleb’s fingers in me is a sensation I never fully
prepared for. It’s new and startling, and I take a few moments to wrap my
head around what’s going on.
“Relax, baby,” Caleb croons, and he grips my dick with a slick hand
while he pumps his fingers in and out. My jaw clenches at how good it
feels, and I groan loudly. “Need to keep it down. Walls are thin.”
I grit out, “I’m trying.”
He knows what he’s doing. I’m sure he’s had a lot of experience, though I
won’t dwell on that. Caleb works me thoroughly and gently, watching my
face the entire time for hints that I may be uncomfortable.
Then he presses in, knuckles deep, and crooks his finger, hitting a spot in
me that makes me gasp and yank at his head.
“Fuuuck,” I groan.
“That’s it.”
“Caleb… please. Enough,” I plead. I’m reduced to begging and I don’t
care.
He flashes me a grin and leans in close to suck on my lip, then he pulls
away and strokes himself. I suck in a breath and watch him, my mouth
watering at the sight of his hard cock. He’s huge—how’s he going to fit in
me?
 “Trust me,” he mumbles, probably sensing my doubts. Caleb slips on the
condom and hovers over me, one hand beside my head and the other
guiding himself in. I concentrate on him—only him. I keep my eyes steady
on him, watching the way his mouth drops open and how his eyes flutter
when he presses into me.
Caleb’s careful and he goes slow, and I shudder with an exhale when he
bottoms out. I feel so full of him and my heart thunders in my chest.
He’s not even moving yet, but I’m overwhelmed. I blink rapidly at him,
and he gives me a shaky smile, watching me too closely and clearly
gauging where my mind’s at.
“I’m good,” I promise him, and he nods.
Caleb presses his forehead against mine and gives a few shallow thrusts.
Panting, I bite on my lower lip and lay my hand flat on the small of his
back.
“Caleb, I can take it.”
“All right,” he murmurs, and pulls out until only the head of his cock’s in
me—then he drives in, deeper and faster than before, and I savor the drag of
his cock in me. I like Caleb when he’s gentle and careful, and I like him
even more when he takes what he wants.
When Caleb’s thrusts become more forceful, and he repeatedly brushes
against that spot inside me, that’s when it feels so fucking good, I have to
remind myself to breathe.
He sucks on my lip as he fucks me, keeping his eyes on me the entire
time, and I brush away sweaty hair from his brow. God, it feels amazing.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, coupled with all the
obscene groans that escape us.
Caleb sits up and rearranges my legs, wrapping them around his waist.
He bottoms out once more and I gasp, the new angle giving him better
access to my prostate. I writhe under him, and electricity traveling down my
spine and pooling in my gut.
If he edges me again tonight, I might just lose my mind—but fortunately,
Caleb’s too far gone for that.
“Touch yourself,” he demands, and I obey right away. Placing my hand
around my dick, I stroke myself, and Caleb grins widely as he watches me.
Caleb murmurs, “I’m so close, Nicky.”
Gasping, I give him a jerky nod. “Me too.”
 His nails dig against my thighs and Caleb’s eyebrows crash together as
his thrusting becomes more erratic. His mouth parts and he shudders, and I
feel his dick pulsing as he comes. Frantically, I scramble against his back,
and even if he’s just come, he continues to fuck me. Caleb smacks my hand
away from my dick and wraps his fingers around me, tugging it in a vice-
like grip.
“Nicky,” he says hoarsely, and the way he says my name is all I need.
“Come for me.”
“Fuck…” Shaking, I come all over his hand.
For a long while, Caleb stays still, his chest expanding with every deep
breath he takes. The grip he has on my knee relaxes, and he shifts his
attention to me—his stare catching on the mess I made on myself. He
smirks and presses his mouth against my thigh, and I unwind my legs from
around him.
I take a while to come down from my high. Caleb pulls the condom off
him and leans over me to discard it in his wastebasket, then grabs his shirt
and helps me clean off. It leaves a sticky residue over my skin, but I don’t
care because neither of us want to get up and go to the shower.
“God,” Caleb mutters. He presses his lips against my temple and then
collapses beside me. I stretch myself against the bed and he doesn’t miss
my wince. My ass is sore. Caleb asks me. “You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Huh… your first time probably shouldn’t have been the night before a
game.”
I laugh. “I’m fine.”
Caleb turns to his side towards me and closes his eyes, and I reach for his
blanket and put it over both of us. Smiling, he nuzzles his face against my
bare shoulder.
It’s still a surprise to me that someone like Caleb likes to cuddle, and I
sometimes wonder if it’s because of his aversion to the cold. He teases me
for being a human furnace but ends up using me for my heat, anyway.
After a minute, his breaths even out and I realize that he’s half asleep. I
rake my fingers through his hair, and he leans towards my hand. Caleb
looks relaxed and content like this, and it takes everything in me not to lean
in and kiss him. To maybe ask for another round.
I’m obsessed with him, maybe.
 “Nicky,” Caleb murmurs against my shoulder, his voice tired and barely
audible. “Go to sleep, love.”
My heart leaps and my fingers freeze in his hair, but he doesn’t seem to
notice. I wonder if he even realizes what he called me—since the day we
met, he comes up with all these new nicknames for me.
That one may just be my favorite.

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 33

Caleb

O ur We
home rink’s cheers are deafening as the timer buzzes loudly.
won. Again.
If we win our next game, then our rank will send us straight to the
quarterfinals.
Fuck, I think we’re going to take it all the way to the championships this
year. Nobody wants to jinx it, so nobody actually says it out loud—that
we’ve got a good chance this year—but the energy in the locker room is
palpable.
Nick’s smiling wide as he chugs down water, his throat bobbing, and I
want to put my tongue all over his skin—can’t do that in the middle of all
these assholes, though, so I simply flash him a grin.
My golden boy scored the winning goal today, and I was so happy I
tackled him. Might have kissed him too, if the other guys didn’t pile over
us.
While the guys are celebrating, I peek at my phone and see that I have a
message from McAvoy. Buffalo’s development coach had been watching
today and I’m really glad we won despite my nerves, and I can feel Nick’s
eyes on me as I read McAvoy’s text.
Coach McAvoy: Good game. Got some pointers for you but I think
it’d be easier if we worked on it on the ice. Let me know if you’re free
tomorrow and we can meet up at the home rink.
 Fuck. My veins buzz with excitement.
Someone knocks their shoulder against mine. It’s Nick. He smiles softly
at me and asks, “What’s up?”
I angle my screen towards him. He reads the message and immediately,
his face lights up in that way each time I give him news about my upcoming
NHL career. Nick lifts his hand as if he’s going to hug me then stops
himself at the last minute. Fuck that, really. I lean against him, and it forces
him to wrap his hand around my waist, even if tentatively.
Who cares? Everyone else around is celebrating, and even if anyone saw
us all cuddly, anyone who has an issue with it can suck my dick.
Well, not literally. Only Nick can do that.
“That’s cool,” Nick says, voice low.
“Come with me.”
“To your training with McAvoy?”
“Yes. I want you to see what their home rink’s like without the crowd.”
Nick laughs and he lets go of my waist, trailing it up my side and
squeezing my neck. “Sounds exciting.”
I leave him to go talk to my uncle, who’s standing by the door and
watching the team. He eyes me suspiciously, no doubt questioning how
close Nick and I’ve become. I don’t see why he’d have any complaints,
though. Didn’t he go and ask Nick to babysit me when I joined the team?
He listens as I update him about my upcoming training with McAvoy,
though he seems much more interested in Nick and I.
“You and Sandoval are getting along great, I see,” he says, eyebrows
lifted.
I scoff. Getting along would be an understatement. I’m not sure if Nick’s
all right with me telling my uncle we’re seeing each other, though, even if
any person with a working brain could probably figure it out.
On that note, I wonder if Nick’s thought about telling his parents. I should
probably ask.
Afterwards, when we’re leaving the rink, I’m still contemplating how to
broach the subject. Even if the game ended a while ago, there are still
people dawdling around, some of them cheering at us and congratulating us
on our win. It feels kind of weird, honestly—and Nick keeps getting pulled
aside by people I don’t know.
Some people call out to me too, and I nod at them and force a smile. I’m
learning from Nick, I guess.
 We finally get some silence once we’re seated in his car, and I’m relieved
that Rhys is carpooling with Schultz, giving us some alone time.
“I think my uncle knows we’re… seeing each other,” I tell him. Even if
it’s the truth, it’s still odd to actually say it. I haven’t had a boyfriend in
what seems like an eternity. “That’s okay, right?”
“Yes. I told you I don’t mind if anyone found out.”
I don’t even try to hold back the smug grin that spreads across my face. “I
think he’s surprised, though. I wasn’t exactly holding back when I told him
you were a fake-ass golden boy who lacks a personality.”
“I haven’t even heard that one before!” He groans. “Caleb, why would
you tell my coach that?”
“To be fair, I was talking to my uncle, not our coach.”
“Fine,” he grumbles.
Here goes nothing. “Also, and no pressure, but are you going to tell your
parents about us?”
He goes quiet, and my heart sinks.
“I could tell them,” he says after too long a pause.
“Wow, sound more unsure about it, I beg you.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s trying not to smile. “They
don’t even know I’m into guys. I was only thinking of what they’d say…
but I doubt it’d be an issue.”
“I don’t know, Nicky. You’re the sole heir to a vast conglomerate. Maybe
they’re old-fashioned and want you to settle down with a cute chick so that
your royal highness can give them grandchildren.”
“Stop making fun of me. Besides, why would grandchildren ever be an
issue? We could always get a surrogate or adopt.”
I wheeze, alarmed, and Nick doesn’t even seem to realize the gravity of
what he’s said as he checks his side mirror.
“Damn,” I say. “You’re already thinking about kids? We’ve never even
gone out on a date.”
He huffs a laugh. “Sure, we have.”
“Literally when?”
“When we went to my favorite food truck, every time we play Mario
Party—”
“I can’t tell if you’re messing with me.” We did all those even before we
figured out we were into each other. I doubt he really thinks those were
dates.
 “We spent New Year’s together.”
He’s winning this argument, and I can’t have that. “I meant, like… a
romantic sit-down dinner or something,” I joke.
“We can do that. Tomorrow. Wear something nice.”
I scoff. “Fuck off.”
“I’m serious. There’s a nice restaurant downtown called The Cedar
Room. My dad's obsessed with it. We can go there when you’re done with
McAvoy.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“My treat. Bring something nice to change into after your training,
okay?”
Nick sounds so eager that I stare at him for a good second, and realize
that he’s very, very serious. He really wants to go on a date with me,
dressed in nice clothes, to a fancy restaurant. My face heats—nobody’s ever
wanted to take me out like this. God, it makes me feel… special. The fuck
is wrong with me?
“Please?” Nick asks.
“Fine,” I snap, even though at that moment, I realize that I really, really
want to.

***

“Faster, Jennings!” McAvoy yells, and I curse under my breath and pick up
my speed.
The rink’s empty except for us, though the team’s regular practice ended
just before our session and some of the players are watching us from the
stands. Great. As if I wasn’t feeling enough pressure already.
Nick’s also in the stands, smiling at me the whole time. That he’s wearing
a button-down and dress pants for our date only distracts me.
According to McAvoy, while my accuracy and speed are good, and I’m a
menace when on the offense, my weakness is in the defensive zone. He’s
been killing me with drills, unsatisfied that I haven’t been able to correct it
on my own.
Despite his feedback, though, we end our one-on-one training with him
giving me a huge grin.
“We’ll work on that more,” he tells me. “I’ll send you an updated plan.
By the way, is that Nicholas Sandoval over there?”
 “Yeah, I dragged him with me.”
McAvoy glances at Nick with a meaningful look. “Looks like the team’s
getting to know him.”
He’s right. I’m not all that surprised to see that the handful of guys who
stayed behind are now talking to Nick and shaking his hand. My boyfriend
laughs and chats with them, though I can tell that he’s not sure how to act.
Time to rescue him, I guess. I follow McAvoy off the ice and listen in on
them.
“Hey, Jennings!” calls out Cruz, one of the forwards who I’ve met before.
“Sandoval here says you brought him along to watch. Are you trying to
convince Camrose’s star to join us?”
“He didn’t even join the draft!” says someone else—Langdon, their
goalie.
“Shit, why not?” Cruz turns back to Nick. “You planning to be a free
agent, then?”
Nick huffs an awkward laugh and shakes his head, and suddenly
questions are being thrown at him from my future team. Nick’s cheeks
redden and he tucks his chin to his chest as he shifts awkwardly.
“Hey! Wait up! I’m the star forward from Camrose,” I declare, which
earns me some laughs—at least they stop bombarding Nick with questions,
though.
“Good stuff out there, by the way,” Langdon tells me, to which Cruz nods
along to, right before they go on their way.
“I’ll e-mail you soon,” McAvoy tells me. “Nice seeing you as well,
Sandoval.”
Nick blushes. “Nice seeing you.”
Once the team and McAvoy’s gone, leaving me and Nick alone, Nick
turns to me with wide eyes.
“They actually know me,” he squeaks.
I huff out a laugh. “Of course they know you. You don’t know how big a
deal you are, do you?”
“I’m not a big deal.”
“Baby, you could get into any team you wanted to.”
He shakes his head and turns away, and because I don’t want to ruin our
upcoming date, I let it go.
“I’m going to go shower,” I tell him, turning away. “Do you want to wait
for me here or outside?”
 When I don’t get an answer, I glance back at Nick.
With his hands deep in his pocket, he focuses on the rink, his eyes
narrowed as if he’s in a trance.
“Nicky,” I call.
He snaps out of it and turns to me. “Sorry. I’ll wait for you here.”
I want to ask him if he’s all right, but then his lips spread into a warm
smile and he beams, and my heart leaps.
Goddamn, why does my heart keep doing that? I should get that checked.

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 34

Nick

I drive us to the restaurant, feeling strangely nervous. It’s not as if this is

the first time I’ve ever gone to a fancy restaurant for a date, though it is
the first time I’m doing it with Caleb. He seems as antsy as I am, sitting
forward with his hands under his thighs, and staring blankly at The Cedar
Room as I pull up in front of it.
Caleb eyes the small establishment, cocking his head as he takes it in.
Yeah, it’s an absurdly fancy place that’s heavy on the wallet, but I’m not
pulling any stops tonight. I want to bring him somewhere romantic, and this
is the type of place where there’s live music, candlelight, and everyone talks
in low voices.
“You ever bring anyone else here?” Caleb asks as I turn the ignition off.
“Yes.”
He scowls. “Who? Jessie?”
“Yes,” I say, and he gets out and waits for me in front of the car. He stares
at me from outside, his eyebrows clashed together. When I follow him out
and step beside him, I can’t help but smile. “I thought you and Jessie were
friends. Besides, I thought I was the jealous one?”
“Eh, she’s okay,” he mutters. “We don’t share the same shift anymore,
which is probably for the best.”
“So you are the jealous type as well.”
He glowers at me. “Don’t get all smug, Nicky.”
 I laugh. Without thinking, I grab his hand, and his eyes widen before he
entangles his fingers in mine. We’re not loudly affectionate when we’re in
public, but there’s nobody else around—also, I think my nerves are going to
kill me if I don’t get a hold of him.
“So, this is your dad’s favorite place?” he asks.
“Yeah. He comes here every time he’s in the city.” I blink. “Oh, shit.”
“What?”
“He was calling me earlier while I was watching you, and I forgot to call
him back.”
“So call him back now.”
“It’s fine. I’ll send him a text later and ask why he called.”
Something behind us catches Caleb’s eye. He mumbles, “Or you could
ask him right now.”
“Huh?”
“Nicholas!” calls a very familiar voice, and I turn around swiftly. Dad,
with Dianne on his arm, walks up to us. “I was calling you earlier because I
had a sudden meeting nearby and wanted to take you out. You weren’t
answering and I assumed you were busy.” His attention flickers to how my
hand’s wrapped around Caleb’s, and Caleb immediately lets go. Dad shares
a look with Dianne, then turns back to us. “Didn’t realize you had plans.
Caleb, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Caleb says, and I stop myself from smiling from his
uncharacteristic politeness.
“Shall we get a table together?” Dad suggests.
“Dear.” Dianne tugs at his arm. “We shouldn’t intrude.”
Dad turns to her, eyebrows pressed together, and she gives him a slight
smile. After a moment, he flushes, and he lets out an awkward laugh. “Oh.
Right, right. I apologize.”
“We should share a table,” Caleb says, and I stiffen. I peer at him, anxiety
crawling up my skin because I don’t want him forcing himself to be polite
just because we’re in front of my parents. But Caleb’s grinning wide and he
bumps his elbow against mine. “Hey, Nicky, it’s fine, right?”
“Y-yeah. Of course.” I clear my throat and turn to Dad. “Sorry I missed
your call. Let’s have dinner together, Dad.”
Dad lights up immediately and Dianne ducks her head, hiding a smile.
Leading the way inside, Dad walks right up to the host and tells her we
want a table for four. The host greets him by his name, recognizing him,
and we’re all brought to a table on the far side of the restaurant. It has a
view of the harbor, and we’re far enough from the pianist that the music is
pleasant but soft.
Caleb takes the seat beside me and Dad and Dianne sit across from us.
Dianne immediately makes small talk with Caleb, probably to fill in the
silence, and I fight hard not to make it obvious how my heart’s hammering.
They haven’t asked us why we’re here in a place like this, but even the
most clueless person could figure it out. Friends don’t dress up and have a
candlelight dinner on a Saturday night. It simply doesn’t happen. Or maybe
it does, but Dad saw our hands clasped together, and that really said
everything.
I tug at my collar and sink in my seat until Dad catches my eye, and I
straighten up before he can remind me.
I meant it before when I said that I’m sure Dad wouldn’t find an issue
with me dating a man, but just like everything big in my life, I don’t know
how to bring it up.
Hell, I kind of wish Caleb would just blurt out everything for me, but I
know he wouldn’t. I listen in and he’s thanking Dad for the help he gave for
Penny, beaming as he talks about how well his little sister is doing. Caleb
sounds so genuinely grateful, and Dad glances at me with a smile, nodding
at me.
“No need to thank me. That was all Nicholas,” Dad says.
Caleb grins at me, and my heart skips a beat.
A server comes over to take our orders. Dad and Dianne give theirs
without even looking at the menu, and Caleb looks hesitant about saying
what he wants after seeing the steep prices. I rub my thumb against his
knee, and he nods and finally gives his order.
Once the server heads off, Dad turns to us with a slight smile. Dad asks,
“What have you boys been up to?”
When I don’t speak up, Caleb leans forward and beams. “I was training
with Buffalo today and Nick came along to watch.”
“I see.” My dad looks lost. “Training with Buffalo means…?”
“Oh! I’m going to sign with their NHL team starting next season, right
after I’m done with Camrose. So, as their prospect, they keep in touch to
make sure that I’m on track with their training goals for me and all that. We
rarely train on the ice, and they mostly just give me pointers after watching
my games, but since I’m signing soon, they’re more aggressive with my
development.”
“That’s amazing, Caleb,” Dad says, even if I can tell that he didn’t catch
half the things Caleb just said. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks! We went to their home arena and the place is huge. It’s got,
like, at least fifteen thousand seats and great facilities. Nick really liked it,
too.” Caleb prods me with his elbow, and it shakes me out of my reverie.
“Right, Nick?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
Caleb gestures animatedly as he talks. “It’s always been my dream to play
in these huge arenas. My uncle would bring me to these games as a kid and
the noise was deafening, especially every time someone scored a goal.”
My heart thrums as I listen to Caleb talk. His passion’s clear, and it makes
me feel alive as well. Even if I’m never going to set foot on the ice in the
same way, at least I’ll be able to experience it through him.
He nudges me. “Hey, the first time I score a goal, I need you to be the
loudest.”
I nod, laughing. “Okay.”
“What about you, Nick?” Dianne suddenly interjects. “We know hockey’s
your one true love. Why aren’t you going pro as well?”
I stare at her blankly, and Dad’s tilts his head at me with a questioning
look.
“It’s not that easy,” I say softly.
“Why not?” Dianne asks. “Everyone tells us all the time that you’re
Camrose’s star player and that you’ve got one of the best stats in the
conference.”
“He does,” Caleb says. “Better than me, but don’t tell him that or he’ll get
cocky. To be clear though, I’m still Camrose’s star player."
Dianne lets out a soft laugh. I can tell Caleb’s trying to get the attention
off me, but I’m not sure it’s going to work—not with how intently Dad’s
staring at me.
“I’ve actually asked him that a few times, but he always changes the
subject,” Dad says. “Why not give me an actual answer for once?”
A ball lodges itself in my throat and I tuck my chin to my chest, blinking
rapidly. Under the table, Caleb squeezes my knee.
I mutter, “Um… because I told you I wanted to work for you after
graduation.”
 “Nicholas, louder,” Dad says.
I sit up straight and meet his eyes. “Because I’m going to work for you
after graduation, like you asked.”
Dad’s eyes widen and he leans back, his cheeks going red. I guess we
have that in common—blushing easily. Dianne seems startled as well,
looking between me and Dad.
Sounding unsure, Dad asks, “But if you wanted to play hockey, I
wouldn’t hold it against you. You know that, right, Nicholas?”
“It’s fine,” I say.
“I’ve told you many times. You need to speak up for yourself. You need
to be your own advocate.”
Fuck it, my heart’s racing in my chest. I hate this conversation, and it
makes me feel small and pathetic—what a goddamn idiot I am, being
unable to tell Dad what I actually want when he’d let me do anything.
But that’s the issue. I’m a mistake in his life—he shouldn’t let me fuck
around. He should insist that I be the most use to him as I can be. And if I
think only about myself, then what about him?
“Nicky.” Caleb squeezes my knee again. “Breathe.”
Dad clasps his hands on the table and gives me a steady look. Beside him,
Dianne is silent, though she’s smiling at me encouragingly. Dad says,
“You’ve always tried really hard to stay out of our way because of our…
history. I’m not blind. I know why you act the way you do. Of course, I’d
be thrilled if you worked for me, because you’re my son and I want you by
my side. But listen to me carefully—I’d be even more thrilled if you’d be
honest with what you want. I’m going to ask you point-blank now, and I
need the complete truth. Do you want to continue playing hockey?”
Yes.
Yes, I want what Caleb’s getting. I want to play in huge, loud arenas. I
want to play with and against names I’ve looked up to for years, and I want
to excel in the sport and make a name for myself.
But I can’t talk—can’t even look at him—so I nod once.
Caleb rubs my knee.
“Then play!” Dad says, sounding exasperated. He jolts and glowers at
Dianne, and I wonder if she pinched him under the table. Clearing his
throat, Dad says to me, much softer this time, “Then play.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
 “Like I said, I would really have liked it if you came to work for me, but
I’d much rather you do what you want.”
“Besides, most hockey players retire early,” Caleb chirps. “Nick can
always come work for your company after.”
“Yes.” Dad points at Caleb as if he’s said the smartest thing. “We can
always revisit you working with me in the future.”
My eyes sting and I force a laugh, rubbing a hand over my face. My
heart’s racing a mile a minute and I need to get it to calm down before it
stops working altogether. I hunch over my seat, feeling delirious, and this
time Dad doesn’t tell me to sit up.
“It’s not like it’s a sure deal,” I say. “The chances of a team signing a free
agent aren’t that big.”
“Nicky,” Caleb says. “You’ve got the best stats. I’m not saying this again,
but you’re Camrose’s star player. Agents have been trying to get in touch
with you for months. Heck, the guys today assumed you were signing with
them. Stop selling yourself short.”
Dad stares at Caleb as he speaks. There’s a flicker in Dad’s expression
that looks a lot like pride, and my chest swells.
“What are your next steps, then?” Dianne asks.
Caleb’s the one who answers. “He needs to get in touch with Aleks
Polinski!”
“Who’s that?”
“A huge agent who has been trying to sign him for a while now.”
Dad leans forward. “Call him right now. And before you put your
signature on any contracts, send it to me. We should get my legal team to
look over it first.”
“No.” Overwhelmed, I shake my head. “Wait, sorry. I mean—thank you,
Dad. But… slowly, please. This is a lot to take in.”
“All right,” Dad says, laughing. He says to Caleb, “Make sure he gets it
all done.”
Caleb beams. “Of course!”
Oh god. My head’s hammering, partly from nerves and mostly from
excitement. Who the hell knew that conversation would be that easy? I still
feel fucking horrible knowing that I’m putting myself first, but I don’t think
Dad would let it go now that he knows the truth.
Caleb has hounded me about doing this, and I know he didn’t plan this—
but I’m very glad it happened the way it did, with him beside me and
helping me through it.
The heaviness in my heart isn’t completely gone, but looking at how wide
Dad’s smiling at me, I know I’ll manage. I have to.
“So.” The corner of Dianne’s lips curve upwards. “Anything else you’d
like to share, Nicholas?”
The table’s quiet and I look around, confused at what she’s getting at.
Caleb shifts in his seat and he lets out a strangled laugh, and Dianne looks
between us.
That’s when what she’s actually asking clicks.
“Right.” My face heats and I share a long look with Caleb before turning
back to Dad and Dianne. “Dad. Dianne. Pretty sure you’ve figured it out,
but Caleb and I are dating.”
Dad snorts. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him snort before. “Yes,
Nicholas. We figured.”
“I mean, you were gripping my hand really hard out there, man,” Caleb
teases, and I swat at him.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said Nick never asks for anything,” Dad tells
Caleb. “When he called me for a favor for your family, it was quite obvious
that you’re more important to him than he let on.”
My face heats even more. Embarrassed, I grab for my water and chug it,
trying to ignore the way Dad stares at me all knowingly and how Caleb
waggles his eyebrows at me.
Our food’s brought over, and I’m saved from trying to salvage myself
from embarrassment. Caleb changes the topic and gets into an energetic
conversation with Dad, telling him about how his mom would like to thank
him personally one day for the help he gave.
I watch them quietly and resist the powerful urge to yank Caleb in for a
kiss. As soon as we’re back at the dorm, I’m putting my hands over every
inch of him.
After dinner, Dad and Dianne say their goodbyes and head off to their car.
Caleb lets out a long breath once they’re out of their sight, and I feel the
same way. That was an overwhelming meal.
I lead the way to my car, and as soon as we’re inside and seated, Caleb
turns to me. “Are you angry?” he mumbles.
“No? Why would I be?”
“I didn’t mean for that whole exposé to happen. I know you didn’t want
to have that conversation.”
 “Oh…” Shit, he’s so thoughtful, as always. So endearingly cute that I
want to squeeze his cheeks, but he’d probably threaten to punch my throat.
“That wasn’t on you.”
“Yeah, but if I didn’t babble on and on about training—”
“Caleb, I didn’t expect that to happen at all. And I didn’t expect to tell
them I want to continue playing hockey… but I’m happy and I’ve only got
you to thank for it.”
Caleb stares at me for a long while, then he leans back and suppresses a
smile. “Thank me for what? I didn’t do shit.”
“I like how much you love playing. I like how excited, pumped up, and
ridiculously competitive you get… and I like how you pushed me. When
you said you’d back off and stop forcing me to talk to Dad, you did—but in
the end, I guess you didn’t have to, because I really needed to have that
conversation with him.”
“You’re… you’re honestly happy?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Scared too, and selfish, but most happy.”
“It’s okay to be selfish.”
“I don’t deserve it.”
“Yes, you fucking do. You always put yourself first, and I understand you
feel you need to drop everything for your dad even if he doesn’t demand for
it, but you also need to do what’s good for you.” Caleb scowls when I look
away, and he reaches over and grabs me by the jaw. He tightens his grip and
forces me to look at him. “You’re amazing at everything you do, and you
make it look so effortless. You’re smart, you work hard, and you’re
perfect… but you don’t think about yourself. That needs to change.”
“Caleb,” I murmur.
“You got that?”
I nod, and he finally lets go. Blinking rapidly, I fiddle with my keys, and
Caleb pulls his phone out. When I glance at him, he’s texting someone and
no longer paying attention to me.
After a minute of me not moving and only studying him, Caleb looks up
with a frown. “Why aren’t we leaving?” he asks.
“I’m falling in love with you,” I blurt out.
Startling, Caleb drops his phone between his legs. My sudden outburst
would embarrass me if it weren’t funny to me how he fumbles for his
phone, and how he tries to hide the rare blush that creeps up to his ears.
“Did you hear me?” I ask.
 “I heard you.” He runs a hand across his face and slouches against the
seat.
My heart sinks when he says nothing else, and I realize I jumped the gun,
and he doesn’t feel the same way. I calm down my nerves and decide to
move on, but right as I’m about to start the car, Caleb huffs out a laugh.
Great, he finds it hilarious, as if the pain behind my ribcage wasn’t
enough to kill me.
“To be clear, I’m not laughing at you,” he says, grabbing at my arm and
squeezing it. “I’m laughing at myself. I feel the same way and was
wondering if I should tell you, and I just didn’t think you’d say it first.”
“Y-you… you’re falli—”
“Yes.” His blush deepens. “Fuck, yeah, Nicky. No question.”
I suck in a breath in disbelief, and before I can say something else, he
shoves me.
“Start the car, baby,” he says. “Need you in me, and I’m not about to be
arrested for public indecency.”
“Caleb!” I laugh, but just like he demanded, I quickly start the car.

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 35

Caleb

I t’sbutnatural how we fall into each other. I’m not sure what changed tonight,
it’s different. We don’t rush things, and I savor the taste of him and
every sound he makes. In the confines of our tiny dorm room, there’s only
me and him, and nothing else is important.
“Good boy,” I tease when he pushes me down between the shoulder
blades. Nick huffs a laugh, probably because of the ridiculousness of me
calling him that when he’s manhandling me to get me where he wants.
My teasing devolves into soft moans when he thrusts into me. My cheek
pressed against the pillow, I mutter his name again and again, and he
shudders against me.
And afterwards, when we’re panting down and coming down from the
high, I put an arm around his waist. I kiss his temple, like I so often do
every time we do this, and then murmur incoherent words against his cheek.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“We need Morgan.”
Nick wheezes. “I don’t think I’m that adventurous. I told you I don’t
share… not even with Rhys.”
“Huh?” I pinch him and lift my head to glower at him. “Okay, funny guy.
I meant because you’re going to do the whole free agent thing. You need a
plan, and the guy’s a micromanage—”
“He’s organized,” he corrects.
 “Right, that. He’s a lot more organized than both of us. He can help you.”
He runs fingers through my hair. “Okay, but not tonight.”
“Of course not.” I reach over him to take my phone from where I threw it
at my desk, and the screen lights as I send a quick text to Rhys. When I put
my phone away, I grab him by the jaw and kiss him. I don’t stop until we’re
both breathless, and when he pulls away, I dive in again.
I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of him.

***

“Seriously?” I poke at the list of names Rhys has jotted down. Afternoon
practice ended a half hour back and we’re at Stella’s, trying to come up with
a game plan for Nick. The café’s busy and even if I’m not on shift, I still
feel bad I can’t help—though right now, I’m much more focused on Nick’s
needs.
“Yeah, according to Coach, these are the three agents that have been
trying to get in touch with Nick,” Rhys says. He gestures for me to give the
list back, and I slide it across the table to him. Beside me, Nick is quiet.
My jaw drops. Three. That’s how in demand my amazing boyfriend is,
and I realize he’s been downplaying his opportunities all this time. Or
maybe he’s been completely ignoring it because he truly didn’t think he
deserved it.
On top of the list is Aleks Polinski’s name, which Rhys has underlined
twice. According to Nick, he’s the one he likes the most. He was also my
uncle’s agent, so I know he’s a good choice.
“So I’ve done a bit of research, though Jennings probably knows more
than me,” Rhys says. “But the teams who would want to sign you will
probably ask you to do a professional tryout first or join their training camp
this summer. If they really, really like you though, they’ll offer you a
contract straight away. You want to play for Buffalo with Jennings, right?”
Nick stares at him, expression blank. I can tell he’s getting overwhelmed
by all this, and I reach over and pinch his knee, and he yelps and swats at
me.
“Focus,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I want to play with Buffalo. With Caleb,” he mumbles, and I grin
and puff out my chest. Yes. “Aleks said they’ll want me, but who knows?”
 “Ask Coach to set up a meeting with him right now,” Rhys says, then jots
down a to-do list right below his list of names. He even puts dates beside
the list.
I arc my eyebrows at Rhys. When I called him a micromanager, I was
serious—I always got that impression from him from how controlled he is
as a captain, and how he insists on having everything in its correct place.
Once, his sports drink wasn’t where it was, and he almost lost his mind.
Maybe that’s why he and Nick get along so well—they’re both control
freaks. While Nick controls every aspect of himself, Rhys likes to control
everything else.
Weirdos.
Nick buries himself in his cellphone, and my uncle responds to his text
quickly. It’s almost as if he was waiting for Nick’s text.
“He’s going to set a meeting with Aleks this week,” Nick mumbles.
“Here.” Rhys gives him the to-do list he was working on. I peer at the
comprehensive and monstrous thing, and know I was right to get Rhys
included in this. He knows Nick more than I do and even included a
reminder to call his dad.
Wow.
“Hey!” Schultz suddenly appears next to our table, and he pushes Rhys
into the booth and sits beside him. “You all ready for tomorrow’s game?”
“Duh,” I tell him. “You’d better up your defense. The Falcons’ forwards
are insane.”
“Not as insane as you, Jennings.”
I grin because he’s right.
Our table devolves into chaos, with Rhys and Schultz arguing about
tomorrow’s strategy, Rhys saying that Schultz totally misunderstood my
uncle’s briefing this afternoon.
In the end, Schultz gets Vega and Walters to come over, and even Nick
gets heated as they argue. It seems like everyone has their own
understandings of the many things my uncle said today, and I’m trying not
to laugh because we’re a fucking mess.
Can’t blame them—if we win tomorrow, then we have a sure ticket to the
quarterfinals.
Of course, nobody actually points that out. No way anybody’s going to
jinx it. While this mess of a conversation goes on, Nick’s hand lands on my
thigh and he absently rubs his thumb against me. I let him be, even when he
searches for my hand and intertwines our fingers.
“No, shit, listen,” Schultz demands, pulling out his phone and opening the
notes app. He scribbles a play on it, lamenting about how nobody else
notices how predictable the Falcons are when it comes to their offensive
plays. “Sandoval, see, their center often goes this way, right?”
Nodding his head, Nick makes a move to point where exactly, but he
seems to have forgotten that he’s got my hand in his. He pulls my hand
from under the table and only lets go to tap Schultz’s screen.
All around us, eyes bug out.
“Wait, wait, hold up,” Vega gestures between Nick and I. “What’s that
about?”
“What?” Schultz asks.
“These two are holding hands now? You two are together?”
Nick startles. He turns to me with wide eyes and a parted mouth, and I
can’t help but snicker. Feeling bold, I grab his hand again and lean my
shoulder against his.
We’ve talked about this. He said he doesn’t mind the rest of the team
finding out, so it’s fine. Besides, he was the one who exposed us.
“Yup,” I say plainly. Schultz sits up straight as if proud, and the corner of
Rhys’s mouth lifts in a half smile.
Walters, the ass who’s never really warmed up to me, grimaces.
“Seriously, Sandoval? Seriously!? This guy?”
Immediately, I find my hackles rising. “What? You have a problem with
two dudes dating?”
Without missing a beat, Walters waves me off. “Get over yourself,
Jennings. I don’t care if you’re both into guys. We literally have a gay
coach. What pisses me off is that Sandoval decided to date you, specifically.
Sandoval, you sure about this? I’ve a frat brother I think you’ll hit it off
with.”
I… well. Okay, that should piss me off too, but instead I slacken my
shoulders and smirk. That’s funny and sounds like something I’d say to
someone he’s seeing if the roles were reversed.
“Lay off them.” Vega nudges Walters, who groans but concedes. Walters
gives a jerky nod and leans back. Grinning, Vega adds, “I think it’s cute.
Didn’t see it coming, but happy for you two.”
 Nick gets that goofy smile of his, and his grip around my hand tightens.
He tilts his chin to his chest and chuckles, and despite this being his doing, I
can tell he feels shy about being the center of attention anyway.
And because as his doting boyfriend who will never give him any peace,
I lean in and kiss him on the temple. “We really are cute, babe.”
Except for Schultz who bursts out laughing, everyone else groans in
disapproval.
I grin, noting the way Nick’s blush deepens. A small part of me instantly
feels bad for maybe making it worse for him, but then he turns and mimics
me, pressing his lips against my hair. My heart speeds up rapidly that I’m
almost concerned about it.
Rhys throws a balled-up napkin at him, deadpanning, “Booo.”
It only earns a smile from Nick, and for once, I’m the one who’s
speechless as I scrub my face and let out a surprised laugh.

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 36

Nick

T heThe
wait is getting to me.
moment it was announced that I was going to be a free agent,
things have been insane. Rhys has been Googling my name and telling me
that some sports accounts have been mentioning me and reporting my stats,
and it’s driving me crazy, because what’s going to happen now?
This may be one reason I’m obsessed with control, because when I know
what’s going to happen, then nothing can disappoint me. When I knew it
was going to be my last year of hockey and that’d I go to work for Dad, I
expected nothing else. It was easy to wrap my head around it.
But now…
Fuck.
“Relax!” Schultz takes me by the shoulders and shakes me. Around us,
the crowd roars and I feel dizzy. Closer to the end of the regular season,
more people get more hyped up about the games—and since this game is
going to determine whether we make straight to the conference’s
quarterfinals, it feels as if the whole campus is watching.
And so is the Buffalo coaching team.
They’re up in the stands right now, and I can’t think straight. Now I know
why Caleb gets agitated every time they’re around. The pressure is intense.
My stare drifts to the row of seats right next to our bench, and there’s the
second reason for my nerves.
 Dad’s there, with Dianne next to him.
It’s the first game of mine they’ve ever watched.
And, a few rows behind them, is Maddox with Caleb’s mother and sister.
Caleb told me they were coming to this game—I just didn’t realize they’d
be sitting so close to Dad and Dianne. I would have introduced them
beforehand if I knew, and right before the game started, Caleb told me both
our families were going to dinner afterwards. He had Maddox arrange it
when he realized they were all here, saying his mom’s been asking for it.
Caleb pushes Schultz out of the way and grabs me by the helmet. He
shouts over the roar of the crowd, “Chin up, babe!”
“I can’t score,” I murmur.
“Who cares? We’re up by two.”
I glance up at the stands. “They care.”
“Ignore them. Put on your stupid fake smile and play like you always
do.”
“You hate my stupid fake smile.”
“Yeah, but I love you, and I know you’ve got this,” he says, and my heart
thumps. I blink at him, stunned.
Rhys pushes my shoulder. “If you two are done flirting, we’ve got a
game.”
Caleb gives him a mock salute. “Aye aye, Captain.”
I don’t know how he did it, but Caleb’s words successfully shock me out
of whatever slump I’m in.
I love you, he said, as if he was casually telling me about the weather.
Caleb outright said it in the middle of a hockey game, in front of the
noisiest crowd this season, and with our families right there. Of course, they
didn’t hear what he said. The words were only for me, and now my heart
can’t recover.
Which, turns out, is a good thing—because when I’m not obsessing over
the fact that I haven’t scored yet, then it’s easier to play like I always do.
Not that playing like I always do makes a difference. I still can’t score.
When we’re nearing the end of the game and the other team ties with us,
frustration wells up in me. We can’t go in overtime. We need to end this
right away.
God. I’m a mess. So much for my grand dream of going pro which lasted
about five seconds before I crushed it myself. Again.
 In a stoppage of play, Rhys, Caleb, and I make our way to the benches.
Caleb leans close to me and asks, “You’re really that hung-up about not
scoring?”
I frown and hold back a snappy reply. “Yes.”
“Okay.” He studies me for a long moment. Finally, he says, “Morgan and
I are going to get you the puck on our next play, and you’re going to score.
Or I’m not sucking your dick ever again.”
I choke on a surprised laugh and look around frantically. Thankfully,
nobody heard him. “Caleb!”
“I’m serious. Right, Morgan?”
Rhys, who’s watching the game intently, gives him a blank look. “What’s
that?”
“Say yes or I’ll fight you.”
He frowns, looks as if he’s about to argue, then seems to decide it’s not
worth the effort. “Yes.”
I can’t help laughing at how goddamn ridiculous my boyfriend is, but
then again, his confidence in me helps. In a moment of clarity, I realize that
nobody has ever put so much faith in me like Caleb has.
Coach puts us out on the ice with only a minute left on the clock, and our
score’s still tied.
The team looks bad.
Vega’s been tending the goal the entire game and I can tell he’s
exhausted. He’s getting slower—if we go into overtime, we’ll likely lose.
Schultz had a hard hit during the second period. I think he’s downplaying
how bad his shoulder’s been hurt and his defense has been faltering.
Sighing, I swallow up my nerves and get into position for the puck drop.
Caleb’s mouthing off to the winger in front of him like he usually is, and
I can see a few heads turn his way. He’s been taunting the other team all
night. As usual, he’s having the time of his life getting under their skin, and
it seems to be working.
Rhys wins the face-off, then it’s a race to get the next goal. I don’t think
the other team wants to go into overtime, either. Caleb struggles to get the
puck to me like he said, mostly because the other team’s defense seems
focused solely on him, which is stupid considering the stakes—but I think
it’s because he’s been fucking with their minds all night.
I shout when he gets checked into the boards—hard—but not before
passing the puck to me. His ridiculous threat flashes through my mind, and
with nothing standing between the goalie and me, I get the puck in the net.
Fuck.
The timer buzzes and the crowd cheers, but I don’t celebrate because I
want to make sure Caleb’s okay. I rush over to him where he’s getting up,
and when he yanks his headgear off, he gives me a wicked grin.
Thankfully, he looks all right. Wired, but he’s okay.
“Told you,” he tells me, and I can’t help but smile. Caleb’s hair sticks to
his face, his cheeks red and his eyes wide, and I need to remind myself I
can’t kiss him here—in the middle of hundreds of people. It’s difficult to
rein the urge in and I’m buzzing as the team celebrates.
We’re making it straight to the quarterfinals. We might go all the way to
the championships this year.
When I said Caleb was the key to getting us there, I was right.
“Sandoval,” Coach calls, and I pray he won’t ask me to talk to the media.
“Congratulations.”
I blink at him. “It was a team effort.”
He smirks and points a thumb over his shoulder, and I glance behind him.
Aleks is in the crowd, and it’s easy to single him out. My heart skips a beat,
because Coach congratulating me and pointing to Aleks can only mean one
thing.
“We were debating telling you the good news before the game,” says
Coach. “But Aleks didn’t want to distract you.”
Caleb—who I didn’t even notice was still beside me—gives his uncle a
long look. “He was distracted anyway.”
Coach ignores him. “Also, you and Caleb are speaking to the press today.
Don’t give me that look, Caleb. You might as well get used to it—both of
you. What did you expect was going to happen once you both went pro?”
Caleb gets that look he makes when he’s about to be a smart-ass, and I
nudge him towards the direction of the press before he can say anything to
Coach.
And while I don’t enjoy being in front of cameras when I’d much rather
be with my teammates celebrating, it gives us a glimpse of what I can only
hope is our future.
Caleb and I tackle the interviewers in completely different ways. He’s
much more impulsive with his answers and says whatever first comes to his
mind, while I’m much more careful. Still, his charisma is amazing, and the
interviewers seem entertained by his answers.
 Even I am. I stare at him and smile as he talks, and I almost don’t even
notice that I’m being addressed as well.
“Nicholas Sandoval.” A lady holds her mic up to me. “Is it correct you’ve
signed Aleks Polinski as an agent?”
I smile. “Yes.”
“Any teams you’re hoping Aleks will help you get into?”
“Um…” I scratch the back of my neck and laugh. Fuck, I don’t want to
get ahead of myself.
“What team would you like to play for?” she prods.
Caleb suddenly gets in front of me. He says into her mic, “Buffalo! No
other team can have him.”
I wheeze out a surprised laugh. “Caleb!”
“What? We need to play together.”
Some reporters exchange amused glances. One of them laughs and
redirects the mic to Caleb, and he grins wide at the camera and brushes his
hair back. Shit, he looks so good. Not for the first time, I’m caught off-
guard by how handsome he is.
“So,” a reporter says. “Your goal is to play for Buffalo, Sandoval, just
like Jennings here?”
I flounder for a safe answer. “Right now, my goal’s to make my last
games as a Ram count.”
“The Rams haven’t been to the championships in years.”
“That’ll change this time around,” I say without thinking. When my brain
catches up with me, I grimace at my unusual self-confidence, but Caleb
only bursts out laughing and knocks his elbow against mine.
The reporter smiles. “I’ve also noticed you seem much more passionate
and confident recently. I like the change in you, Sandoval. But what or who
inspired this?”
Smiling, my stare drifts over to Caleb, who cocks his head at me as if also
curious about my answer.
“Someone important to me,” I say vaguely, and I’m sure Caleb gets who I
mean with how I give him a meaningful look.

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 37

Caleb

E ven if Nick told me off for telling the reporters he’s definitely going to
play for Buffalo, I’m right.
I’m very, very right.
Aleks catches him right after the interviews and I stick around, wanting to
find out what news he has—and, just as I said, Buffalo’s interested in him.
They’re offering him an entry-level contract and I almost lose my mind
from the news, amazed they don’t even want him to tryout first. Nick stands
there, stunned into silence, and I punch him on the shoulder to snap him out
of it.
Aleks laughs and gives him a moment to process the news, and after what
seems like an eternity, Nick lets out a strangled laugh and buries the heels
of his hands in his eyes.
“Nicky?” I ask.
“I can’t believe it,” he breathes. “Thank you.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Aleks tells him. “For now, focus on your last season
with the Rams. Make it count, boys.”
When we get to the locker room, there’s a round of cheers for Nick, and
not only because he scored today’s winning goal. They must have caught on
because Aleks was around, and as soon as Vega outright confirms if Nick’s
indeed playing for Buffalo, the locker room erupts in celebration.
 “Nick,” Rhys says, and I swear he’s about to cry. He grabs Nick in a tight
hug and ruffles his hair. “I’m so fucking thrilled for you.”
Nick blushes. “Thank you.”
Rhys pulls away from him, and yeah—his eyes are watering up. He rubs
at his face furiously and turns away, only stopping short when he realizes
I’m watching him with a smirk.
“So sappy, Captain,” I tell him.
He scowls at me. “It’s been Nick’s dream since I’ve known him, so sue
me.”
“If you knew it was his dream, why didn’t you say anything?”
“Believe me, I tried. He wouldn’t even admit it, and he doesn’t like it
when I interfere.”
I make a face. “What, so I interfered?”
“Exactly.”
Nick frowns at us. “Stop fighting.”
“We’re not fighting,” Rhys assures him, but the moment Nick turns away,
our dear captain scowls at me again. Nick leaves for the showers and Rhys
grabs me by the front of my shirt, hauling me closer. It catches me by
surprise, and I gear up for a fight, but then his face splits into a grin.
“You’re not so terrible, Jennings. Thanks for pushing Nick.”
“Soo sappy,” I tease again, though a grin takes over my face. Rhys smirks
at me and lets go, stepping away from me, and a thought occurs to me. I
ask, “Want to join us? Nick and I are having this huge dinner with both our
families. Maddox is coming, too.”
Schultz, who’s been quiet until this point because he’s nursing his sore
shoulder, quickly turns to us. “Can I come?”
I ignore him and focus on Rhys. “What? You joining?”
He nods. “Sure.”
Schultz calls after me, but I pretend not to hear him. Once we’re all
showered and suited up, I head out with Rhys and Nick. Nick keeps pulling
at his collar, and I realize that he’s agitated because we’re introducing his
parents to my family. It’s for Mom—she wants to thank them for their help
—but Nick’s still anxious with anything that has to do with his dad and
stepmom.
Which is why I thought of bringing Rhys along, because I think his
presence would help—and Maddox is coming too, since he’s pretty much
part of my family.
 I lay my hand flat on Nick’s back. “Relax, babe.”
Rhys makes a face at the nickname. “Ugh.”
Our families, including Maddox, are waiting for us at the stadium’s
parking lot, in the middle of the still thinning crowd. Penny screams as soon
as she sees me and hugs me tightly, and Mom kisses my cheek. At the
corner of my eye, I see Nick hesitatingly approach his dad and stepmom.
Rhys greets them as well.
My eyes snap to the jersey Maddox is wearing.
“What the hell is this?” I ask, flicking at Maddox’s sleeve. I glare at the
name and the number on his back. “Why are you wearing Schultz’s jersey?”
“Caleb, language!” Mom scolds.
Maddox looks away. “I lost a bet to Killian.”
“Who the ever-loving fuck is Killian?”
Gasping, Mom’s face turns red. “Caleb! Please.”
“Sorry,” I say, not really all that sorry. Nick’s dad seems amused by my
outbursts, and Nick’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter.
“Killian is Schultz,” Rhys tells me. “You didn’t know that?”
Obviously, I knew that, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be difficult about it.
I look around the parking lot as if scared that he’ll suddenly show up. "I
thought your bet was to tutor him, not to wear his jersey?”
Maddox pouts. “This is for another bet.”
I stare at him. What the hell is going on? I’m about to grill Maddox, but
when Nick flashes me a smile and shakes his head, I let it go.
The guy’s hold on me is ridiculous.
Not that I can complain.
Apparently, while waiting for us to come out, our families have been
getting to know each other. I’m pretty sure Mom has been thanking Nick’s
parents endlessly, and it seems that Nick’s stepmom has been asking her
about my experience with Buffalo.
Honestly, Nick’s parents are great. They’re down-to-earth and kind. I
can’t help but watch how they speak to my sister, who warms up to them
immediately. Even the way Rhys talks to them is more casual than how
Nick does, and I can only hope that Nick learns to become more
comfortable with them.
“Where shall we go for dinner?” Nick’s dad asks, and I take a moment to
grasp what’s actually going on here. We’re a huge group, in the middle of a
parking lot—and the important people in mine and Nick’s lives are here.
 And it makes me happy, how our worlds are colliding.
Is… this what being in a relationship is like?
“I want to go to that Mexican food truck Caleb told me about,” Penny
announces.
Mom smiles. “We were thinking of a restaurant, honey.”
“But Caleb said it’s Nick’s favorite and I want to see what’s so great
about it.”
Nick blushes. “Caleb talks about me?”
“All the damn time,” Penny says, and Mom’s face goes red again.
“Language,” she tells her. “See what you’re teaching her, Caleb?”
Nick’s dad laughs. “I’d be okay with going to this Mexican food truck.”
He flashes Nick a knowing look and says, in a gentle voice, “It reminds you
of your mom, doesn’t it?”
My boyfriend looks stunned at that question, but he slowly nods his head.
“Then it’s settled,” his stepmom says, after studying Nick. There’s
nothing in her tone that suggests she’s anything but happy. “Send us the
address, and let’s meet there?”
“Okay,” Nick says.
We all pile into our own cars. Maddox ends up going with Rhys, and
Penny happily goes off with Mom. It gives me some alone time with Nick,
who starts his car as soon as I climb into his passenger seat.
Filled with adrenaline, I suddenly slam my fists on the dashboard, and my
dorky boyfriend actually jumps in his seat with a squeak.
“Caleb, what!?” he asks, all high-pitched.
“Nothing, baby,” I say. “Just fucking excited for everything that’s
coming.”
He gapes at me for a long second, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.
Then his expression melts and he bursts out laughing. “We’re going to play
on the same team,” he says softly.
“Yes. Fucking yes. We’re heading to the NHL—both of us. The goddamn
NHL.” I grin at him. “It’s been my dream since I first held a stick, and it’s
unreal that I’m going to be doing it with you.”
His cheeks flush. “Nothing’s set in stone for me, yet. Aleks said they
might send me to their farm team, or—”
I clasp a hand over his mouth, and he squirms under my grip. “Nope.
None of that. We’re going to be on the ice together, Nicky. It can’t happen
any other way.”
 He smiles and I can feel it underneath my palm, and I let go of him when
he nods at me.
“We’re going to be on the ice together,” he repeats slowly, as if he can’t
even believe it himself.
“Fuck yes,” I affirm, and when I lean in to kiss him, Nick meets me
halfway.

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 38

Nick

October - Eight Months Later

I don’t think I’ve ever been so nervous before in my life. Looking around
the locker room, I take in my new teammates and the red and black
jerseys hanging on the racks. Someone’s blaring loud music and the team’s
singing along to it. I know it’s one of their pre-game rituals from the
multiple times they’ve mentioned it on interviews, and I’m too self-
conscious to join in. Besides, singing loudly isn’t really my forte.
Caleb, on the other hand, has easily weaved himself into the team. My
boyfriend’s across the room, horsing around with the first-line forwards and
teasing them about how he’ll take their spots soon enough. They take it in
stride, smacking him with their towels.
Despite Caleb’s teasing, he’s toned down his taunts compared to when we
played for Camrose, and he confessed to me that it’s because the guys here
are on a totally different league—literally. He doesn’t want to make himself
too much of an ass considering he hasn’t proven himself in the major
league, yet.
When I told him I have no doubt he’s going to prove himself in no time,
Caleb grinned at me in that way that makes my heart skip a bit—then he
said that he knew it’d be the same for me.
It’s been a crazy year, and I can’t believe I’m here, gearing up for our first
match playing for the Buffalo Jets. Never did I think I’d be here, and with
Caleb of all people. Never did I think that I’d even have a boyfriend, and
that every day I wake up feeling stronger about him than ever.
It’s overwhelming, but it’s also perfect.
Caleb strides over to where I’m sitting by my stall, watching them. He
isn’t in his gear yet, similar to me. Like the rest of the team, we’re still
mostly relaxing and working ourselves up for the first game of the season.
He ruffles my hair, and I fake a grumble, swatting at him.
Caleb asks, “You think your dad’s here yet? He splurged on an entire
suite for everyone, it’d be a waste if he didn’t show.”
“Dad said he was going to sell his company if they didn’t let him leave
their board meeting early,” I say, flushing. My dad was very adamant about
making it here today, and he even rented an entire suite for all our friends
and families. Our families are here, as well as Rhys, Maddox, and Schultz.
Some other guys from the team are here too, and Rhys also brought along
his brother.
The way they’re all watching us is doing a number on my nerves. They’re
making such a big deal about this game, but then again—it’s mine and
Caleb’s first NHL game.
I really, really hope we make it count… but with Caleb, it always seems
that way.
After graduation, we found a two-bedroom apartment for us. It’s nothing
fancy and even if our contracts allow us to get something much bigger,
Caleb said he didn’t see the point. Neither of us even bothered looking for
furniture for the first week and slept on a mattress on the floor.
Dianne had gone absolutely pale when she found out, and even if we
insisted she didn’t have to, sent a team of her interior designers to our place
right the next day.
“You ready?” I ask Caleb, though my voice is too soft to be heard above
the music. He’s able to read my lips anyway, and a slow smile spreads
across his face.
“Yeah. Nervous as fuck, though.”
“I’m nervous too.”
Caleb looks around swiftly, then crooks his finger at me. He cocks his
head towards the door. “Follow me, Nicky.”
 “Where?”
He doesn’t answer me, and it’s not as if I wouldn’t do it, anyway. I follow
him outside where we turn some heads but are left to ourselves. Caleb turns
a corner and keeps walking until he finds a quiet hallway, stopping in front
of a room that’s labeled “equipment.”
“Caleb, what?” I ask.
Snickering, Caleb opens the door and steps inside, pulling me with him.
The door shuts behind me and he pushes me up against it, cupping my face
and swallowing down any protests I have.
“Caleb,” I murmur, and he grips me by the back of my neck and gives me
a long, passionate kiss. I return it with the same enthusiasm, my skin
buzzing.
I wonder if he’s as happy as I am. Getting this far, having the most
important people in our lives watching, us playing for the same NHL team
—I can’t be any more enthusiastic.
Caleb pulls away, but I yank him back to steal one more kiss from him. I
hold him by the face and my breathing gets ragged. His eyes darken when I
wrap my fingers lightly around his throat in the way he likes.
Hoarsely, Caleb says, “Enough, baby. We need to get out there now and
show them what we’ve got.”
Pumped up, I nod at him, the competitive flame in me once again
igniting. When I say he changed things for me, it’s the absolute truth
because the old Nick wouldn’t be here at all. The old me would be quietly
living the life I thought was expected of me, and I’m so glad that Caleb
showed me it was okay to want things.
Teasing, I say, “I’m happy you came along and messed everything up.”
He scoffs and pinches me on the arm, and when I pull away, he grabs me
again and kisses me. God, I can never get enough of him—we can never get
our hands off each other. Almost a year together now, and nothing’s
changed.
I smile at him. It’s a genuine smile, and not the fake one that he hates
with a passion.
Eyes flashing with amusement, Caleb says, “Thanks for messing up my
world too, golden boy.”
Then he grins and fists the front of my shirt and gives me one last mind-
numbing kiss before opening the door, leading me outside to a new era of
both of our lives.
OceanofPDF.com
 Acknowledgements

Thank you so much for reading Zone Entry! I hope you enjoyed Nick and
Caleb's story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I could not get the idea of
writing a college romance series and these two guys made it easy for me.
Next up is Killian (FYI, Caleb, that's Schultz) and Maddox. Can't wait to
share their story with everyone!
If you have the time, I would appreciate it if you could leave a review on
an online review site. Reviews are very helpful for indie authors like me,
and I appreciate each one of them.
Huge thank you to my amazing team of beta readers Akansha, Alyssa,
Amber, Annalise, Brandy, Brittany, Izey, Jenni, Megan, Melissa, Kristina,
Kristen, and Noah. To Seajart for the gorgeous covert art. To Raven for an
incredible job of editing this book.
Thank you to my friends who never stop pushing me to type these words
out!
Lastly, thank you to K who I owe everything to.

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 About the author

Maia Kinley is an MM romance indie writer who likes slow burns, chaotic
characters, and lots and lots of yearning. When not binging books or tv
shows, she's at her full-time job daydreaming about books or tv shows. Or
inhaling coffee.

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Also By Maia Kinley

Cloverlily Series
Paint Our Song
With Strings Attached

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