Spinning to the Goal (Desert Ice Hockey #4)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

ACE

A fter cleaning up, we padded to my bed and dropped in on our sides, facing each other. Had I found the one? It sure as hell felt like it. But then, only time would tell. I stuffed a pillow under my head and took him in: his wavy hair a mop, the blue of his eyes, and the angular line of his jaw. When would we be together again? I had home games… “Hey, I have a jersey of mine you can wear to the games this weekend.”

“You do?” He’d tucked his arm under his head and shifted his cheek over it. As a wry smile swept his lips, he said, “How big is it?”

“Oh, it’ll be a dress on you.” I let a chuckle ripple through my chest. “But everyone at the game will know you’re mine, and if they know what’s good for them, they’ll lay off.” God, what was he doing to me? He made me so fucking possessive.

“They will, huh?” He brushed his finger pads down my arm. “I wouldn’t pay them any mind, even if someone did hit on me.” He sucked his lower lip into his mouth for a beat. “Ace, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I don’t. It’s the other guys I worry about.” My gut knotted. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, I’ve dated guys, but I’ve never felt so…” Hell, how to describe it? “Like I wanted to kill anyone who even looked at them.”

“You want to kill for me?” He chuckled. “Ace, that’s so…” His gaze dipped to my mouth and came back up. “Romantic and sexy in a way. Also, a little disturbing.”

“You know what I mean.” With a quick grin, I threw my arm around him and pulled him to my side as I rolled onto my back. Staring at my ceiling, I said, “Halloween is coming up.”

“Yeah?” He rested his head on my shoulder, his arm curled over my chest. “Will you be around for it, or do you have an away game?” He tilted his head to peek at me.

“I don’t know. Guess I’ll have to look.” I rubbed my chin. “If I’m here, want to dress up and go out?”

“Sure. What do you want to dress up as, and where do you want to go?” He played with a thin tuft of hair on my chest.

“We could go to The Club on Mill, and whatever we dress up as has to be revealing and sexy.” I met his gaze, my cock waking. What sort of outfit did I want to see him in? He’d look great in just about anything.

“Well, you’d make a good caveman.” He giggled, burying his face in my neck. “But I’m not going to be a cavewoman. It’s too cliché.”

With a soft snicker, I said, “You’re right. Too cliché.” I twisted my lips. “Let’s think on this.” I kissed the top of his head. I’d have to see if the other guys would want to join us. Knowing them, they wouldn’t miss it. Or a chance to tease me no matter what I wore.

“I know.” He lifted onto an elbow and looked at me. “I want you to be a cowboy, but a sexy one with, like, only chaps and a Speedo with your hat and boots.”

“What?” I stared at him for a moment. He had such a dirty mind, and I loved it. His dick grew hot against my thigh and thickened. “Just thinking about it gets you going, doesn’t it.”

As his cheeks reddened, he looked away and bit his knuckle. “Yeah. Sort of.” His now solid cock pressed against me. “Okay, a lot.”

“Fine. I’ll be your cowboy, but I want you to be a…” Shit, what? He was so graceful on the ice, like a swan? No, like a leopard? Yeah, that. “I want you in a sexy leopard costume.” As I imagined his lithe muscles in a revealing body suit, my dick tingled and swelled. Fuck, here we go.

“But that doesn’t quite go with a cowboy.” He tapped his lips.

“I don’t find a cow outfit appealing.” With a huff, I rolled my eyes. Plus, it didn’t fit him at all.

“Fine. I guess we don’t have to match.” Pursing his lips, he dropped his head to my chest and pouted.

With a soft snort, I said, “Is this our first fight?” I squeezed him into my side. No, I was not letting him be a cow for Halloween, no matter what.

“Maybe.” His lips curled in a sly grin against my chest. “I bet I could make being a cow sexy.”

“No.” I choked out a laugh. “Be a freakin’ leopard already and own it.” I thought for a minute. “Or do you want to be a big cock instead?” I snickered, my chest bouncing his head.

He barked out a laugh. “Now, that’s an idea.” He planted a quick kiss on my cheek. “But I think I’ll stick with the leopard. I have ideas already.” He slipped his finger up my chest and over my lips. “I’ll figure something out. I am a figure skater, and our coach is a great costume designer.”

My dick perked up again. “This is what I’m talking about.” I combed my fingers through his soft hair. He felt so good against me. It would be heaven if he could stay the night. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” He circled his fingers over my pecs.

“Maybe I should have asked this before you got here, but do you want to stay the night?” My pulse sped up. This was kind of a big step. Once you started the sleepovers, it was hard to have someone just come over for a while and not stay.

“I, uh…” He breathed in deeply. “I hadn’t planned on it, and I have to hit the ice after your morning skate, and?—”

“Yeah, okay. It was just an idea.” I closed my eyes and breathed in the floral scent of his shampoo. I could sleep so easily with him in my bed. “Next time.”

He nodded against my chest. “Sure, next time.”

“Which will be when?” God, I was turning into a demanding fucker. My brain filed through my classes and the schoolwork due this week. “Thursday?” I had a paper to write for my finance class, but I sure as hell didn’t want to wait until the Saturday night after our last game.

“Yeah, Thursday works for me.” He pushed off me, sat upright, and primped his hair into place. “Where’s your jersey?” With a smirk, he patted my thigh. “Come on, you look like you’re about to doze off on me.”

“I was too comfortable, I guess.” With a heavy sigh, I propped onto my elbows, threw my legs over the side of the bed, and stood.

He climbed off my bed, stretched, then found his briefs and joggers and slid them on.

“Aw…” Fuck, I was enjoying his nakedness. “I like you better with no clothes on.” With a smirk, I made my way to my closet and snagged an older jersey off a hanger. This one I’d gotten Sophomore year, so it wasn’t as big as my current one. “Here, this one is a little smaller than what I normally wear.” I held it out to him.

“Yeah?” He took it and held it to his chest. “I’ll still be drowning in it.”

With my hands clasped behind my back, I took purposeful steps toward him. “Put it on. Let’s see.” Too bad he’d already put his pants on.

“Okay.” He shrugged and shimmied the jersey over his head and down his torso. The arms hung past his hands and the hem fell almost to his knees. “This is giving me a new perspective on just how big you are.”

“And proportional. Don’t forget that. The dick matches.” With my heart warming, I chuckled and threw my arms around his waist, then picked him up and nuzzled a kiss into his neck. “God, you’re fucking adorable.”

He giggled. “Put me down. Why are you always carrying me around? Maybe you should have been a caveman for Halloween after all.”

“Nope, I’m going to be a cowboy, and I’m going to carry you around like you’re my kitten.” My eyes popped open, and my breath snagged. Wait a minute… I set him down, and a slow smirk worked over my lips.

“Ace? No…” He wagged his finger at me. “I’m not going as a kitten for Halloween and then having you carry me everywhere.”

“But why not?” Sticking out my lower lip, I stomped my foot. Fucking with him was fun.

With a playful smile, he eyed me. “No. Now put some clothes on so you can be a gentleman and walk me out.” Biting his lip, his gaze fell to my junk.

“Fine.” I slumped my shoulders. I didn’t want him to go. “But next time, one of us is staying the night.”

Thursday afternoon, when practice and classes were over, I sat on the couch with my laptop on my thighs, watching game footage of Providence. They had a winger who had some wild moves, and I wanted to get them down so I could shine in my crease with Zoma in the stands. I wanted him to be proud to wear my jersey. I could barely stop thinking about it all week.

My phone buzzed next to me on the couch cushion. “Fuck.” Pausing the footage, I picked up the phone. It read Todd Daniels across the top. He was my latest agent and, so far, the best. I answered the call and set the phone on speaker. “Hey, Todd. What’s up?” I glanced toward the hallway. The other guys were napping. I shouldn’t be too loud.

“Ace, I’ve got good news.” The clicking of a keyboard sounded through the phone.

“Okay, what is it? Are the Coyotes looking my way?” I raised my brows, my pulse perking up. He knew that’s where I wanted to be.

“Well, no. But a scout for the Red Wings gave me a call. He’s going to be at your game on Friday.”

“He is.” My heart fell. Fuck, they had money to spend, too, like the Bruins. But I wasn’t in it for the money. I was in this to play the sport I loved with the people I loved around me.

“Don’t sound so excited. This could be a hell of a shot for you,” he said.

“I know, but…” I ran my finger along the edge of my laptop. “The Coyotes. Have you heard anything at all?”

“Ace, I don’t think they’re looking to pick up a goalie right now. Sampson is healthy as an ox and playing well. Plus, the goalie they picked up last year is showing signs of being a keeper.” He huffed out a breath. “You’re a year late.”

“No kidding.” I pursed my lips. I’d been too young last year for them to consider me and had wanted to get my degree first. Though, I supposed I could have finished it while playing for the NHL. Naw, I’d made my bed.

“I’ve spoken to your coach, and he set up a meeting for you with the scout before the game tomorrow. So, be on your best behavior, and let’s see where this goes.” He gave a soft chuckle. “Who knows, maybe it’ll get more teams to look your way?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my eyes with my finger and thumb. “Don’t worry, I’ll lay on the charm.” And maybe use the experience as practice for when the Coyotes came to their senses.

“All right. You got any questions for me?” he asked.

“Not really. I know the drill. We meet, he evaluates me and talks to the coaches, then he’ll call you and you’ll call me with an update.” I sighed. I’d seen guys go through it already in the time I’d spent at ASU.

“Yep, pretty much,” he said. “Ace, try to be happy about this. You could start there and then get traded to the Coyotes in a few years. Anything can happen.”

“Yeah, I know.” But my friends were playing with the ’Yotes now . I dropped my arm to my side. Plus, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to live in Detroit. It was so far away from everyone. Shit, Zoma. My eyes widened.

“Okay, I’ll keep in touch. Good luck tomorrow. I’ll be watching.”

“Thanks. Talk to you soon.” I ended the call and stared at the phone. If this worked out, what would Zoma think? It was too soon to be making life plans with him. I tensed my mouth. It was too soon to mention it to him as well. No point in bringing it up if it wasn’t a done deal, and at this point, it was nowhere near that.

Tyler walked out of the hallway, rubbing his eyes, his wavy blond hair sticking up at odd angles.

“Would you look at the sleepyhead?” Setting my laptop aside, I hopped from the couch and jogged to him. Perfect time to fuck with him.

As he let his arms fall to his side and ambled farther into the room, he faced me.

With a cackle, I dug my fingers into his sides, tickling him. “Gotcha, fucker.”

“Jesus Christ, Ace!” He wiggled and jumped away from me.

I stayed on him, flung an arm around his neck, and hauled him into my chest. “Say uncle.” Grabbing his hair, I rubbed my knuckles over his scalp, giving him a noogie.

“Fuck off. Who the hell says that anymore?” With a soft snort, he slapped at my sides. “Let me go.”

“Say, Ace, you’re the best goalie the world has ever known then.” I spun him around by his head, his legs struggling to keep up. Every once in a while, these younger idiots needed this from me. I was an older brother, so it was in my blood. Or was it because I’d already become a weird goalie?

“Shit. Ace, you’re the best…fuck!” He stumbled. “Goalie the world has ever known.”

I freed him, holding my arms out.

Straightening, he yanked the hem of his athletic shirt over his sweats and glared at me, his hair flying off his head with static. “Was that really necessary?”

“For me it was.” Back to the problem at hand. I sucked in a deep breath. “A scout for the fucking Red Wings is going to be at our game tomorrow night.” My shoulders slumped as I lumbered to the couch and fell onto it.

“Seriously?” He strode to the couch and sat beside me, angling toward me. “That’s great news, man. I’m happy for you.” He patted my thigh and flattened his hair to his head.

“Yeah, but it’s not where I want to go.” I pursed my lips. He knew this. But I probably sounded like an idiot. I had a chance here that Myles might never get. Tyler yes, but Myles?

He furrowed his brows. “So, if things pan out, you could go to Detroit for a few years and then come back?—”

“I know, it’s the same thing my agent said.” I rubbed my chin, Zoma’s gorgeous face floating through my mind. “What about Zoma? What if this thing we have gets serious?” Yeah, I was going there.

“Ace, you gotta do what’s right for your career. You’ve worked so hard for this, and you’re talented as fuck.” He freed a sharp laugh. “If you and Zoma get serious, I’m sure you’ll work something out.”

I worried my lower lip. “Yeah, you’re right. I suppose I shouldn’t be worrying about things that might never happen.” I huffed a snicker. “I mean, nothing will probably come of this scout, and who knows if Zoma and I will stay together that long?”

If my previous relationships were anything to go by, something would happen to end it in a few months. My heart twinged. But this thing with Zoma felt different . I already couldn’t imagine it falling apart.

Myles strolled from the hallway, all freshly showered, his hair wet. “What the hell was going on out here? It sounded like elephants were playing in our living room.” He made his way into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and pulled out a protein shake.

“They were. Ace was in one of his playful moods.” Tyler threw a pointed look my way.

“Oh.” With an up-nod, Myles smirked. “Glad it wasn’t me this time.” He twisted off the cap on his drink and gulped it down.

I tagged Tyler on the knee and, in a soft voice, said, “Hey, don’t say anything about the scout around Zoma, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” He held his fist to me. “I got you.”

Fist bumping him, I said, “Thanks, man. Maybe you’re not such a ninny after all.”

“Fuck…” He barked out a laugh.

Hooking a brow, Myles looked at each of us. “I’m not going to ask.”

Friday night, I showed up early for the game in my best dark-blue suit, strolled to Coach Henderson’s office, and knocked on the open door. This was sort of a job interview, after all. “Hello, hello.”

Coach sat at his desk, lifted his gaze from his laptop, and smiled. “Ace.” He stood. “You’re right on time, as usual.” He rounded his desk and walked to me. “The scout, Mr. Neely, is in the conference room with Coach Meadows.”

“Okay.” I rubbed my sweaty palms together and followed him down the maroon-colored hallway, which had strips of gold in the wallpaper, and then inside the conference room.

Coach Meadows stopped talking when we entered the room and rose from his chair opposite an older man with graying temples and dark-rimmed glasses, wearing a gray suit. “Ace, this is Mr. Neely.”

I stepped toward him as he lifted with his hand out. “It’s a pleasure, sir.” I gave his hand a firm shake and everyone took chairs around the long table, me next to Coach Meadows and Coach Henderson next to the scout.

“It’s quite a pleasure to meet you too, Ace.” He glanced at his open laptop. “I’ll let you know I’ve had my eye on you since you played in juniors.” He gave me a warm smile, wrinkling the outsides of his blue eyes.

“You have, huh?” I folded my hands on the table as my pulse increased. If he’d been watching me that long, this could very well lead to an offer.

“Yes. You’ve got skill and grit, and bringing the win for ASU at the championship last year solidified my thinking that you’d be right for a team like the Red Wings.” He clicked a few times on the mouse on his laptop, and his gaze rose to meet mine. “I’ve sent your information to our goalie coach, and he’s reviewing it, but so far, he likes what he sees.” He leaned back in his chair, his gaze flowing over me. “Are you interested?” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like wasting my time.”

“I’m, uh…” My heart battered in my ears and sweat beaded at my hairline. The fucking necktie was going to strangle me any minute. Did I tell him the truth? But fuck, I couldn’t turn this down. It would be suicide for my career. Forcing a smile, I said, “Of course I’m interested. Who’d turn down a chance to play for a stand-up organization like the Red Wings?”

“That’s what I want to hear.” A wide smile swept over his lips. “Once I get the okay from the coach, I’ll be in touch with your agent, and we’ll see what we can work out. How does that sound?” He came forward and rested his forearms across the table on either side of his laptop, fixating on me.

“It sounds great. I’m looking forward to seeing it.” I took a deep breath, fighting to untangle the knot in my stomach. Fuck, I’d be way out east, far from my family and my hockey family…and not playing with Mason and Archer.

“Good. Then let’s get you out there so you can show me what you’ve got tonight.” He rose and pushed his hand at me.

“Yes, sir.” I stood and shook his hand. “Again, it was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Same here.” Holding his tie-tail to his chest, he dropped into his chair.

Coach Meadows patted me on the shoulder. “Let’s get you dressed for the game.” He walked me out.

I glanced at Coach Henderson, still seated at the table. Obviously, they had more to discuss. Were the Red Wings looking at anyone else from our team? Hodge was prime for a contract if he agreed to leave college early. Maybe I’d have him with me? I could only hope.

Strolling beside me, Coach Meadows said, “I’m proud of you, Ace. I’m going to be sad to see you go after this year, but you’ll do really well with the Red Wings. The team they’re pulling together is sure to be a contender for the Stanley Cup. If not this year, then next year.”

Way to fucking rub it in. An ache sputtered through my chest. “That’s good to know. Thanks, Coach.” Why did it have to be this way?

After leaving Coach at his office, I ambled into the locker room and made my way to my stall. The rest of the guys were putting on pads and socks. All their gazes wound to me.

“Ace, what happened?” Hodge twisted from his stall as he slid his jersey over his pads, poking his head and then his arms through. “Good news?”

The whole room went silent.

“Uh, yeah. It looks promising.” By now, news would have spread like wildfire through the team. I clenched my jaw. I should be happy about this. I’d still see the guys when I was in town and nothing was stopping me from seeing them during the summers.

Hodge eyed me, tilting his head. “What does that mean, promising? Did they invite you to camp?”

“Not yet. They’re still evaluating me.” Fuck, the way Mr. Neely had been talking, they might sign me outright. Maybe they were trying to pick me up before anyone else did. Maybe I still had a chance with a West Coast team, if not the Coyotes.

The regular locker room banter started up.

“Oh.” With a nod, Hodge sat on the bench. “Wonder how much they’re willing to pay to have the great Ace McAdams on their team?” He snickered.

Cummings stepped to us, all dressed down to his skates and holding his already taped stick in his hand. “I’m happy for you.” He patted my shoulder and narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re happy, right, Ace?”

I combed my fingers through my bangs. “Fuck yeah, I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be?” My heart stung. Now I was bold face lying to my best friends. “Listen, I have to gear up and?—”

“I know, do your routine.” Hodge beamed at me. “We’ll leave you to it and talk about this later.”

“Thanks.” I stepped to my stall and unfastened my tie, tension coiling inside me. The pressure was on.

Late in the second period, we were up by two. I glanced into the stands at Zoma, wearing my jersey and sitting with the Nova and what I could only guess was the figure skating team. My heart ached as it warmed. He had no idea what I’d just agreed to. But it wasn’t a done deal yet, and I sure as hell didn’t want to scare him off when we’d just gotten started, especially with his history with Brody.

I snapped my attention to the puck, being tossed around in Providence’s D-zone. So far, I’d intercepted every puck that fucking winger had sent at me, no matter what sly moves and fancy footwork he’d tried. I could read him like a book with all the game footage I’d watched.

The winger broke away from a crowd of players in the corner by the boards, cradling the puck between each side of his stick, his sights set on me.

“Oh, here we go.” I crouched in front of my goal and made myself big. I needed a shutout with the scout watching from the stands. But fuck, why was I trying so hard for something my heart wasn’t into?

The winger passed to his center and all the guys from both teams barreled down the ice after them.

Hodge checked the center, tossing him to his ass on the ice, and took the puck. Peeking at me and smiling, he swiveled and pushed off in the other direction.

Rushing up on Hodge’s side, a Providence D-man slammed into Hodge, stole the puck, and then came at me again.

“Looking for the assist? Not going to happen. Not on my watch.” With my body tensing, my gaze flicked back and forth with the puck, homing in on it, the rest of the world fading away. It was only me and that damned biscuit now.

The winger sped up to my right and shouted, “Now!”

Dumbass shouldn’t have had to tell his D-man when to shoot. I hunkered in, splaying my feet and arms out, ready to drop or stretch out.

With the D-man flinging the puck to him, the winger passed the puck between his skates, faking a lost pass, and shot at me.

I stretched as the puck flicked up to my left. As my wrist bent backward with the force of the catch, I said, “Nice one, but not good enough.” With a cackle, I dropped the puck at Cummings’s feet.

The people in the stands stood and cheered, some fists pumping.

“Beauty, eh?” With the flash of a smile, Cummings took off with the puck.

Fucking Canuck. I chuckled. His family might be living in Chicago now, but there was no way to take the Canadian out of him. But I’d take the compliment.

The winger flew into my shoulder and shoved me.

“What the fuck?” I fell to my side and whipped around, sitting on my ass on the ice. “What’s wrong with you?” I cut my gaze to the nearest ref, who was blowing a whistle and motioning to the winger.

With a sneer, he skidded to a stop and leaned over me. “You’re not all that, McAdams. You’re not getting another shutout.”

As I hopped onto my skates, I slid in close, chest to chest, and glared down at him. “Get outta my fucking crease. And a word of wisdom, if you have to tell your guy when to give you the puck, don’t do it within earshot of the fucking goalie. Hoser.” Nobody used my last name. Even my jersey said Ace on it.

His face turned red.

The ref skated to us. “Hey, sin bin, now, before you get a delay of game on top of the penalty.” He pushed the winger’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.” Adjusting his helmet strap on his chin, the winger skated off.

Dude had some fucking balls. I had to give him that. Shaking my head, I took my position at the net, glanced into the stands, and found Zoma.

He stood with his hands clasped over his chest, watching me, and waved.

With a grin spreading over my face, I ticked my head at him. I’d see if he wanted to get a bite after the game. I had to eat, and I wasn’t about to wait until tomorrow night to be with him. No fucking way.