Rule #5: Never Coparent with Your Rival (Hockey Rules #5)

Prologue

Enzo

Ten years ago

My suitcase wheel is broken, so now I’m that person—the one dragging a garish orange eyesore across the cobblestones while Concord University looms around us looking tasteful and ivy-covered and disapproving.

Nothing can stop my older sister Gaby from beaming. She stretches out her arms, and her long dark curly hair flutters in the wind. “You’re in college!”

Half the quad looks in our direction, probably wondering if I’m intellectually or financially or socially impaired.

“I’m so proud of you.” She looks like she’s about to burst into a song à la Enchanted.

The students wear pastel-colored clothes with alligators and whales, the uniform of people who’ve never set foot in Kohl’s. Some guys play frisbee in the quad, and I withdraw my gaze from their bodies a few moments too late.

The nice thing about hockey—well, one of the many, many nice things about hockey, is that you’re covered when you play. My eyes aren’t going to linger somewhere they shouldn’t.

I think I’m gay, but I’m not sure. I’ll figure that out here.

Gaby points. “That’s your dorm.”

“Yeah.” I try to nod cheerfully and pretend I’m the sort of person who lives in a brick building with actual ivy on it, and not the sort of person who lives in the projects.

Students and parents file in, dragging suitcases over the historic wooden floors, and I look away, because Mom is supposed to be here. If Gaby hadn’t fought hard for custody of me three years ago after Mom died, I don’t know what would have happened to me.

“Enzo Bellanti,” Gaby tells the student worker, and we get a key in a brown envelope and neon paper gleefully exclaiming in bold and italics how wonderful everything will be.

We make our way to my room. My roommate hasn’t arrived, and I eye the two long beds.

It’s going to be weird to share a room. I’ve only done it a few times on hockey overnight trips.

I’m going to live with this person. I hope he’s nice. All I know is his name: Axel Knight.

“This is amazing,” Gaby squeals.

“Uh-huh.” I eye my room and pretend I’m not nervous.

Gaby never went to college. She started working as a CNA at a nursing home straight out of high school. Maybe she wanted to go to college. Maybe if I hadn’t shown such promise in hockey, she would have.

Gaby helps me unpack. Finally, she sighs. “I have to drive back for my shift.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Gaby will always be here for me.

“Hey. I got some fruit for you.” She removes a container from her bag and places it on my desk. “Grapes.”

I smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I did it because I’m an amazing sister.”

“You are an amazing sister. I’ll miss you.”

“Don’t make me cry.” Her smile wobbles.

All the other parents are going to drive home together, probably reminiscing about their kids.

Gaby can’t.

Dad left our family long ago.

“Are you sure you don’t want the grapes?” I ask. “It’s a long drive back to Springfield. You can eat it in the car.”

“No eating in the car,” she says lightly.

Gaby is health and safety conscious in every way. She has no intention of leaving me.

I say goodbye to her, then sit at my desk, waiting for my roommate to arrive.

I can’t sit still. I stand, then sit again, then check the time. He’s officially late, but maybe he has a long drive.

I hope living with him won’t be strange. I eye the Lord of the Rings poster I stuck to the wall. Maybe I should remove it. Maybe he’ll declare me a nerd or something. He does play hockey, like me. That’s why we’re rooming together. We’ll both have the same crazy schedule with early practices.

No one on my team in Springfield was into Lord of the Rings.

I open the glass container and remove the plastic top. I take a grape and pop it in my mouth.

Gaby was right. They are good. Bigger than normal and sweet and juicy.

I take another grape.

Then the door opens, and a man my age walks in.

He’s tall and lugs a red duffel bag over each broad shoulder, the width meant to terrify opposing teams. “You must be my roomie.”

Oh, God.

If I had any doubts I was attracted to men, they’re gone now. He has dark hair, and a pale freckled face. His eyes are blue-green, and his lashes are long. His lips pull up into the sort of smile that makes me understand why kissing was invented.

His duffel bags fall to the floor, and for a moment I worry the bang is the sound of my heart. His gaze drifts to the Lord of the Rings poster.

“Cool! I love Lord of the Rings. Awesome, dude.”

He reaches out and gives me a fist bump. Our fingers are touching, and I forget how fist bumps work. I put the grape into my mouth.

“I’m hot,” Axel declares, and I nod. “The elevator was busy, so I took the stairs. But three floors with two full bags is a lot.”

He whips off his shirt. Sweaty skin glistens.

My gaze bounces to the ceiling. Then the floor. Then, against my better judgment, back to him.

His six-pack flashes before me. His abs are carved deep, and my fingers twitch. His jeans are low, and the V leads somewhere definitely interesting.

And I swallow my grape.

It goes right down my throat and lodges somewhere it’s not supposed to be.

Fuck.

I’m rooming with the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, and I just swallowed a grape.

The grape is heavy in the center of my chest, and I try to cough.

I can’t.

I’m not breathing.

Shit.

I’m not fucking breathing.

My hands fly to my throat.

Axel looks at me, confused. Then he drops his shirt. “Shit.”

In the next moment, he’s leaping over a duffel bag, then lands in front of me.

He yanks me toward him. “I’ve got you.”

He wraps his muscular, sweaty body around me, so my back rests against those glistening, perfect abs. He tightens his grip around my waist, then pulls his arms over my stomach hard.

Nothing happens.

My head swirls. My chest hurts. The edges of my vision go soft and dark, and my legs turn to water beneath me.

Oh, God.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die because I couldn’t eat a fruit in his presence.

“Shit.” His gravelly, rough voice is against my neck.

I’m going to die in his arms.

He gives me the Heimlich again, harder this time and more violent. He lifts me off the floor.

This time, the grape flies out and hits the wall with a wet smack.

“Thank God,” Axel says.

I collapse against his torso, then start to cough up acid and sourness. My whole body shakes, and my eyes are tearing. He turns me around. I’m sure my face is red and terrible-looking.

“Get it all out.” Axel pats my back.

I’m leaning against his chest now. His salty scent surrounds me, nothing like the bubblegum and flowery perfumes of the popular girls in high school. He smooths my hair from my face and stares into my eyes.

I cough again. He steps away, and I get it.

That was pretty disgusting.

He must be horrified. He comes back a moment later with a trash can, and he thrusts it in front of my face. “Spit.”

Shame gurgles through every cell, but I won’t disobey him. I rid myself of the last remnants of the grape and sour saliva.

He beams.

“Thank you. I’m sorry. I—”

“Those are some big grapes,” he says. “Could have happened to anyone.”

I doubt that, but it’s nice of him to say.

“Hey, I saved your life,” Axel exclaims. “My twin brother is going to West Point, but I already saved a life. Wait until he hears this.” He cackles happily. “This year is going to be so awesome.”

Axel glances at the poster. “Which one was your favorite?”

“The Two Towers.”

He beams. “Right? I can’t believe The Return of the King won the Oscar. People in the 2000s had zero taste.” He’s still not wearing a shirt. He’s standing there, sweaty and glistening, discussing Tolkien like this is normal. “Who do you like more—Arwen or éowyn?”

I freeze.

He’s straight. Of course, he’s straight.

Arwen and éowyn are the two women in the movie.

I could tell him that I think I’m gay, but I hesitate. We play hockey together, and everyone knows there aren’t any out hockey players.

I need to focus on my career. This is my shot: playing hockey at a school that feeds players to the NHL. It will be difficult, but I can do this. I have to.

I need to give Gaby a better life to repay her for everything she’s done for me.

Axel already saw me spit into a trash can and cough up a grape. Something, it occurs to me, I should probably clean.

I don’t want him to wonder if I have a crush on him, because face it, my crush on him has already started. I don’t want things to get more awkward between us than they are as we sleep a few feet apart each night.

I have a huge crush on my straight, super attractive roommate who just saved my life.

Fuck.

Axel frowns slightly, then hands me my water bottle. “Drink.”

I gaze into his piercing blue-green eyes. His eyebrows draw together, and I realize I didn’t answer his question.

“Arwen,” I say, even though I always spent more time looking at Aragorn.

I avoid his gaze and gulp down some water.

“An elf. Nice.” He bumps fists with me again.

“We’ll need to do a Lord of the Rings and Hobbit marathon.” Axel’s face brightens. “I can’t wait for Rogue One to come out in December.”

“I can’t either.”

“We need to go together.” He grins at me, and it’s all I can do not to confess the truth.

Because I definitely, definitely like men.

I liked him the moment I saw him, and my crush has only gotten stronger since he put his arms around me.

Axel’s eyes go mischievous. “So, if I saved your life, does that mean you’re mine for life?”

I know he thinks he’s joking, but he’s completely correct.

I’m his.