Spinning to the Goal (Desert Ice Hockey #4)

Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ACE

W e’d won another game against Providence, and I hadn’t let that fucking winger get the puck past me once. I did, however, let one slide through that the center had shot at me. I wasn’t going to let it get to me, though, because I was all showered and ready to meet my man at his place. My overnight bag was packed and waiting in my car. I strolled out of the arena’s heavy glass doors and into the parking lot with my duffel slung over the shoulder of my suitcoat.

Tyler and Myles jogged up behind me like a fucking ambush.

Tyler whined at me, “Come on, Ace. Call Zoma and have him meet us at the bar. You’re breaking a tradition here. What if it leads to us losing the rest of the season?”

“I told you no, and this will not start a new superstition. You hear?” Stopping, I pointed at each of them, giving them a meaningful look. But now they’d put this nonsense in my head. Dammit. I strode toward my car.

“Fine.” With a huff, Tyler tagged Myles on the shoulder, and they walked off.

I couldn’t wait to spend the night with Zoma, especially after seeing him cheering for me in the stands again, wearing my sweater.

After parking in the lot at Zoma’s apartment and walking to his door, I rapped on it a few times. My pulse sparked as the knob turned.

“Hey, Ace.” He stood in his entryway wearing only my sweater, as far as I could tell, his long, muscular legs bare from his mid-thighs to his feet.

With my dick waking, I said, “Hi, Zoma. God, you look good.” Stepping inside, I wrapped my arms around him and picked him up, breathing in his scent. I couldn’t wait to get a peek under the hem of my sweater. As I set him down, garlic flooded my nose. Had he made me dinner? I’d been expecting to order a pizza. “What smells so good in here?”

“Oh, I made a little something. I knew you’d be hungry after the game.” He shut the door behind me and sauntered into his galley kitchen. “You said you liked spaghetti, so I made some. I hope it’s as good as yours.”

“I’m sure it will be.” I strolled in after him, scanning over the bubbling meat sauce in a pan and the pasta still steaming in a colander in the sink. “Have you already eaten?”

“I snacked at the game. I wanted to wait for you tonight.” He plated some pasta, spread meat sauce over it, and then brought the plates to his dinette, already set with an open bottle of red wine, silverware, and napkins.

“You went all out.” A smile tugged at my lips. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had surprised me with a home-cooked meal. I shrugged off my suit jacket, dropped into a chair with him falling in next to me, and picked up my fork.

“I wanted to surprise you somehow. I guess this is part of it.” He gave me a coy grin.

“Yeah? Is the other part whatever you have on or don’t have on under my sweater?” I stuffed my fork into the pasta and twirled it. And more importantly, at some point, would he let me fuck him in it? God, that would be hot. He’d said he mostly topped…but I could hope.

“Yes, another part.” Holding the back of his hand to his mouth, a short chuckle sprang from him and his face went slack. “Ace, how are you feeling about the game? You won, but it wasn’t a shutout tonight.” He poured wine into both of our glasses.

“Yeah, I know. It happens. I’m not perfect.” With a quick smile, I shoveled spaghetti into my mouth, chewed, and swallowed it all down. “I didn’t let their fucking winger get a shot in, though, and that’s what I really care about.” I was still peeved about the jerk.

“That guy likes to play dirty, huh.” He sipped his wine and ate some pasta.

“Yep. But he also wins a lot of games for them.” I ate more food. “This is really good, Zoma. It’s different from mine, a hint of spice, but damn good.” I washed it down with red wine, the spicy hints complementing the pasta sauce. “And this wine…”

“You like it? I put a little bit of cayenne pepper in my sauce, and I paired it with a zinfandel.” He held his wine glass to his lips, a soft grin floating over his mouth.

Nodding, I stuffed more food in my mouth. “Well, I like it.” My gaze found his. “How was your day? You had an early practice, right? Did you get your jumps down?”

“I did. I’m ready for my competition this weekend.” His brows wrinkled, his lips parted, and then he dipped his gaze.

“What?” He’d looked like he was about to tell me something, then thought better of it. I set my fork on my plate, giving him my full attention.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Cocking his head, he shrugged a shoulder.

“Talk to me, Zoma. You can tell me anything.” I wrapped my hand around his forearm and freed it. Something bad hadn’t happened, had it?

“Well…I talked to my mom today after practice.” His focus lifted to me.

“You did?” I raised my brows. “Everything okay back home?”

“Yeah. My mom misses me, you know, the usual.” He puffed out a breath. “I, uh, I told her about you.” His eyes widened.

“You did?” With warmth spreading through my chest, a smile played over my lips. This was serious. You didn’t tell your parents about people you didn’t have some deep feelings for. “And what did you say?”

“Oh, I told her where you were from and all that. She thinks you have a good head on your shoulders.” He drank more wine. “She also wanted you to visit for Thanksgiving, but I know you probably have other plans.”

I stared at him. All I had was the annual squad Thanksgiving dinner, and we did that because we didn’t want to deal with the Thanksgiving crowds flying across the country. Could I find a way out of it? “Uh, let me see what I can do.” Shit, but what if it was my last Thanksgiving dinner with my boys?

“Really?” He held his fork over his food, studying me. “You think you could fit it in? I usually drive home. Colorado Springs is about twelve hours away.”

“Yeah, okay. It’s just…” I pushed pasta around my plate, pursing my lips. “The squad has a tradition of having Thanksgiving together. I usually make the turkey.” I rolled my lips. “But I’m sure Archer can talk Leo into doing it for them this year.” With a smirk, I said, “I don’t think I’d trust Myles and Tyler with a turkey.”

“Oh?” His lips bowed down. “I don’t want to take you away from your hockey family traditions. It’s okay.” He twisted his fork in his pasta, propping his elbow on the table and his cheek in his hand.

Fuck, this was important to him. “I’ll come with you, Zoma. You can count on me.” Grabbing his arm, I wound my fingers in his and kissed the back of his hand. “The knuckleheads can figure it out. Archer had Thanksgiving with Leo’s family one time, so I’m entitled to do the same with yours.”

“You will?” His eyes lit up, and he blinked a few times. “Are you sure?” His gaze darted between my eyes. “I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“You’re not. I’d be happy to meet your family. Your parents sound like good people.” My heart battered into my ribcage. I’d be meeting his parents. This was big. This was serious . But the fucking Red Wings… A jolt raced up my spine. Fuck, I’d almost forgotten about it. It was far from being a done deal, and who knew? Maybe I could talk him into…what? Going to Detroit with me when his life was here or in Colorado?

“What’s wrong, Ace?” He squeezed my hand. “If you’re not sure about?—”

“I’m sure.” I locked my gaze on his. “I’ll make it happen.”

With a slow nod, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on my cheek. “Thank you. Now eat up. I have another surprise waiting for you.” Curling the corner of his lips, he lifted the hem of my sweater to his bare hip bone.

My dick twitched and swelled behind the zipper of my pants. “Holy hell.” I swallowed hard. No more talking, only eating.

After dinner and the fastest cleanup of dishes ever, I strolled hand in hand with Zoma to his couch, each of us holding a new glass of wine. I’d already changed into my team sweats as well. Suits looked nice and all, but they weren’t meant for comfort. Leaning to the side, I eyed his bare thigh, snuck a finger under the edge of the sweater, and lifted.

“Stop that, you naughty boy.” With a giggle, he batted my hand away and sat down, the edge of the fabric gliding up.

“When are you going to show me what you’ve got on down there?” I sipped my wine, a pleasant buzz floating through my head and my cock lengthening toward my hip bone. He was being such a tease. I loved it.

“In time.” He cupped my balls through my sweats and skimmed his thumb over my swollen dick. “You seem to be enjoying the show already.”

Sensation pulsed through me and up my spine. In a rough voice, I said, “You have no idea how much I’m enjoying this.” As my mouth watered, I swept my tongue over my lips. “I do have a question though.”

“What’s that?” He sipped his wine, his gaze fixated on me.

“You said you usually top. Would you consider, uh, bottoming for me tonight?” I snuck my finger over his thigh and between his legs, touching soft fabric. I fought to control my breathing. “I’d really like to fuck you in my sweater.” I glanced at the back of the couch. Like bend him over and?—

“Yes, that was another part of my surprise.” He palmed his hard dick, now showing through the jersey. “I’m all prepared and ready to go.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus.” I set my wine down, took his from him and set it next to mine. This was happening. “Best first night together ever.”

Lunging at him, I shoved him to his back on the couch, my mouth capturing his in ravenous kisses, our tongues battling. My dick ached and swelled further as I fell between his thighs and ground on him.

With a sharp moan into our kisses, he slapped his hands to my ass and wrapped his legs around my hips. Breaking away, he panted. “Oh fuck, Ace.”

Nibbling his chin, I worked a hand down his side and cupped his bare ass cheek. Against the skin of his neck, I said, “You got nothing on under there?” My lips curled as I pressed hard kisses to his collarbone and sucked. I’d mark him tonight.

With a whimper, he said, “Only a plug.” He squirmed under me, thrusting his now bare cock into mine as the fabric of my sweater lifted between us.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I slid my hand between his ass cheeks and my fingers touched a hard surface. As I bit at his neck, I said, “You’ve been wearing that all through dinner?”

With a giggle-snort, he said. “Yep.” His mouth dropped open, and a low moan rumbled from his throat. “Fuck, you have no idea how horny I am for you.”

“Oh, I think I do.” My dick pulsed inside my sweats, dribbling precum. Holy hell, I had no idea he was into shit like this. But then, we’d just started getting to know each other. What other secrets were there to find out about him?

Rolling his hips in time with mine, he snuck his hand between us and under and up my shirt to tease a nipple. “I’ll have you know I don’t do this often, only on special occasions.”

“Yeah? I’m glad you consider this a special occasion.” I lifted onto straight arms, pulled the sweater to his armpits, exposing his pecs and the ripples of his abs, and dove down to flick my tongue at the engorged crown of his cock. Precum flooded my mouth and a shiver of sensation washed over me.

“Oh God. Ace. Feels good.” He pressed on my shoulders, his head tipping into a throw pillow on the coach.

Swallowing a flood of saliva, I crouched on my tucked legs, fisted his dick, and dropped, taking his cock all the way to the back of my throat.

“Fuck, oh fuck.” He rasped, arching his back and tensing his brows.

As I pumped his dick with my mouth, I fingered the end of the plug, pulled on it, and changed the angle.

His cock jerked in my mouth, and he squeezed my shoulders. “Careful, holy hell, don’t make me come already.” He panted and gasped.

I hummed around his swollen dick. I had a chance to play here, and I was taking it. Swirling my mouth over his crown, I flicked my tongue at the slit. My balls ached and drew tight. Jesus, I might come giving him head. I pulled off with a pop and sat up. I had to make good on my earlier fantasy before it was too late. “Over the couch, now.” I stood from the sofa, grabbed him, and threw him over my shoulder.

“Are you kidding me right now?” He barked out a laugh. “Put me down.” He landed soft punches on my back and kicked his legs.

“I will.” Rounding the end of the couch, I set him down, twisted him so his glorious backside was to me, and dropped my sweats to my thighs. Brushing my lips over the shell of his ear, I said, “How do you like it? Fast and hard or slow and deliberate?” I licked at his earlobe.

With one side of his mouth quirking, he said, “Bring it. Fast and hard.” His slender body shuddered with a soft whimper.

Guiding him over the back of the couch, I grabbed the plug and slowly twisted it. “You okay if I take this out now?” The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. Especially now. I wanted to give him the best fucking he’d ever had. Then maybe he’d want more.

“Yes, please take it out.” He bent over the couch back, resting his forearms across the cushions, his rounded, tight ass exposed to me.

Slowly, I worked the toy out and threw it to the floor. Shit, did he have lube close? “Uh, lube?” It’s not like I’d packed it in my sweats.

“Spit,” he said, his voice gravelly. Arching his back, he jutted his ass out.

“Okay.” He was probably lubed up pretty well already. I spat in my hand and slicked my cock, sparks of pleasure tingling inside me. Fuck, would I make it all the way in without losing my load? Hockey, think of?—

“Spit on my ass.” He hung his head between his arms, taking heavy breaths.

Oh damn, I’d never spat on a guy’s ass before. First time for everything. Lowering, I spread his cheeks, my gaze taking in his perfect hole, all prepped for me. A rush of desire wove through my body, twitching my dick. I groaned and spat.

His ass clenched and he growled, bending one knee then the next. “Fuck, Ace. Fuck me now.”

With a hard swallow, I slid my finger over his slippery hole and lined my cock to him. Fast and hard … A pulse of pleasure wound tight inside my gut. Oh no…Hockey, hockey, fucking hockey, and shutouts, don’t let him score, holy hell. I pushed inside him, his tight heat wrapping around my aching length. With my balls resting against his ass, my voice cracked as I said, “You okay?”

“Holy hell am I ever.” He slowly stroked himself and pushed farther onto me. “Go, Ace, for the love of God.”

“Uh-huh.” I was a fucking goner. Gripping his hips, I pulled out and pushed inside him, tension knotting in my gut, and then quickened my pace. “Oh hell, oh fuck, oh God.” As my thrusts became fast and hard, my hips slapped his ass and pleasure heated my skin.

“That’s it, Ace. You feel so fucking good, so good.” He pumped his weeping cock and gasped. “I’m right there. You close?”

“Close? I’m, uh…” Shit, that was it. I collapsed over the edge of orgasm in harsh waves of sensation, my cock spurting into his hole in quick succession. My toes curled into the laminate floor and my thighs trembled. “Ohfuck-ohfuck-ohfuck…” Sparks lit up behind my eyes as I shut them tightly.

With moan after moan, his hole spasmed around my dick and hot cum shot from his pumping hand to land on the floor between his legs. As his knees buckled, I bent over him and hooked my arms around his waist, holding him to me. “I got you, baby. It’s all good. Let go.” Kissing his hair and his shoulder, my heart swelled. I was falling hard. No turning back now.

As it all slowed, he relaxed in my arms and lifted with a soft sigh, my dick slipping from his ass. He twisted to face me, throwing his arms around my neck and gazing deeply into my eyes. “Ace, that was the best. I hope you know that.”

“Does that mean you’ll want to do it again?” I quirked the edge of my mouth and pressed a long, deep kiss on his lips. I wanted him to think about it before he answered.

As the kiss broke, he nodded, his gaze holding mine. “I don’t want to bottom very often, but if it’s the right person, someone I feel safe with…” His eyes widened. “Fuck, I mean the right person, and I have to be ready for it.”

“You are safe with me, Zoma. I’ll never hurt you. I promise.” My chest twinged. But what about the fucking Red Wings? Not a done deal and you can turn it down . It was my choice. “Well, it sure was a treat and quite a surprise. When I saw your bare bottom in my sweater…fuck, I sure as hell hoped this was happening.”

“That was the point.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “Uh, we better get cleaned up before your cum slides out of me and joins mine on the floor.”

“That’s a problem, how?” I rubbed my nose on his. He was a little bit fussy about his place, I could tell. A neat freak even.

With a tsk, he said, “Come on.” He grabbed my hand and led me toward his bathroom in the hallway to the bedroom.

After we were both clean, and he’d put on some silky briefs under my sweater, we decided to watch a movie and open another bottle of wine. I mean, why not? It was Saturday night, and all I had to do was rest and study tomorrow. Which… “You have lessons with the kids in the morning?” I set our glasses of wine on the coffee table, fell into the corner of his couch, and pulled him down next to me.

“I do.” A smile crept over his lips. “I love teaching those kids.” He picked up the remote from the table and turned on the TV resting on a white console across the room. “What are we watching?”

“Is there a game on?” I let a smirk curl my lips. I was only half-joking.

“Ace, don’t you get enough hockey with your roommates?” His brow hooked and he wrinkled his nose. “But if you?—”

“Naw, I’m kidding.” I wound an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against my chest. “What would you like to watch?” This was cozy and so easy, like we fit so well together.

He tapped his lips and opened the Netflix app on the screen. “How about this academy show? These kids are wealthy and nasty to each other, and there’s a hot gay couple in it.”

“Yeah?” I snuck a peek at him. I never had time to watch a full-blown series. But maybe it could be something I only watched with him. “Sure, but you know what this means.” I pressed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“What?” With a grin teasing his lips, he faced me.

“It means we can only watch this when we’re together.” I rolled my lips. “You haven’t watched the whole series yet, have you?”

“No, I only heard about it at practice today. Britany, another one of our skaters, told me about it.” His gaze dipped and met mine. “I was thinking it might be fun to watch it with you.”

“Good, so we’re on the same page. We can only watch it when we’re together.” I held my hand up with my pinky finger curled. “Pinky finger swear with me.”

“Are you serious?” He sniggered, staring at my finger. With a huff, he said, “Fine.” He wrapped his pinky finger in mine. “I pinky finger swear that I will only watch this series with you.”

“Perfect.” Plucking my wine from the table, I drank some. “This will be our thing.” We had a thing…and my heart was so on board with everything about him. “So, play it.”

“Sure.” He started the show, snuggled into my side, and picked up his wine.

After binge-watching three episodes of the show, we decided to head off to bed. I brushed my teeth, followed him into his bedroom, and slid between his sheets, lying on my back and throwing my arm out to the side. “Come here.”

As a warm smile crept over his mouth, he crawled in beside me and nestled into my side, his curled arm on my chest and his leg across both of mine. “I have to see my kids early in the morning, just so you know.”

“I figured as much.” I brushed my cheek over the top of his soft hair. “I’m used to getting up early, so whatever time you need to wake up, I’m there.”

“Okay, well, I don’t need to be at the rink until around nine, so we won’t have to get up at the crack of dawn or anything.” He skimmed a circle over my bare chest with his fingers.

“Well, I don’t want you to be late for your kiddos, so I’ll get up, make us a quick breakfast, and head home.” I sighed, my gaze lifting to his ceiling, the soft globe of his nightstand lamp lighting it. “Speaking of which, what do you have for breakfast?”

“Granola, oatmeal, or protein shakes?” He lifted his head. “Sorry, I don’t eat a heavy breakfast in the morning.” His gaze searched my face. “I have a frozen blueberry, raspberry, and blackberry mix?—”

“Perfect. I’ll make the protein shakes while you’re getting ready.” I squeezed him into my side. “I have game footage to look over and studying to do…” Fuck, would we have to wait two weeks to see each other?”

“Yeah, same. Well, studying.” He rested his cheek against my chest. “This is nice, having you here. The next weekend we can hang out will be—” His breath caught. “Halloween?”

“Shit, it will be.” With a chuckle, I threaded my fingers through his hair. “Let’s stay in touch, and maybe we can meet to pick out our costumes together.” I was looking for any excuse to see him now.

“Sure. You’re the one with the busy schedule, so you tell me when a good time is.” Twisting, he turned off the bedside lamp. “We’ll work it out.” He rolled to his other side, taking my arm with him.

“That we will.” I turned to my side, spooning him from behind. He was like a tall teddy bear and fit against me so well. “Goodnight, Zoma. I enjoyed everything about tonight, and thank you so much for making our first night together special.” I pressed a soft kiss on his neck. I was pretty sure by morning, my heart would belong to him completely.

Tugging my arm around his chest, he said, “You deserve it, Ace.” He breathed in deeply. “Goodnight.”

The next morning, we’d woken up a little later than we should have, and I’d made the protein shakes as promised while he’d gotten ready for his kids. What could I say? Sleeping beside him had been so heavenly. I could have lay beside him half the morning. And I never did that.

After saying a rushed goodbye with a lengthy kiss and a promise to keep in touch, I left and came home.

I strolled into the house with my overnight bag on one shoulder and the duffel holding my gear on the other.

Myles sat at the dinette, his hair a disheveled mop on his head, eating a toasted five-grain waffle with peanut butter. “Hey, you’re home early. What happened?” He bit into his waffle, set it on his plate, and wiped his fingers on a paper towel.

I set my bags down next to the end of the couch and twisted around. What was he insinuating? “Nothing. He gives skating lessons to kids on Sunday mornings and had to get going early. You know that.” It was how I’d found Zoma after the ghosting episode.

“Oh yeah.” He picked up a coffee cup from the table next to his plate and sipped. “I just made a pot of coffee if you want some.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” I hadn’t had time for coffee at Zoma’s. Strolling into the kitchen, I poured a cup and added creamer, sitting on the counter. “So, how’d you guys do at the gay bar last night?”

“Tyler drank enough for both of you. I don’t think he’ll be out of bed any time soon.” He snickered. “I met a guy, well, a few guys, but none of them stuck, eh?”

“Stuck?” I walked to the table and dropped into the chair next to his, and then blew over my steaming coffee and glanced out the sliding glass doors into our always sunny backyard.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling it last night.” He sighed. “It’s weird not having us all together at The Club anymore.” He picked at a crumb hanging on the edge of his waffle. “Can’t believe next year it’ll only be me and Tyler.” He slumped his shoulders. “Fuck.”

“I hear ya, buddy.” With my chest squeezing, I patted his shoulder. He’d been feeling the same way I had. Now, I felt a little guilty about leaving them for Zoma. But we all had to move on, and seeing Zoma was important too.

“Anyway, how was your night with Zoma?” He waggled his brows. “Did he make it worth it to leave your best buddies after a win?”

“He did.” I leaned back in my chair, straightening my legs, holding my coffee to my chest, the nutty and creamy aroma filling my nostrils. “He’s…” I shook my head once. “Damn, he’s something.” Should I confide in Myles? Why not. With my gaze finding his, I said, “I’m falling for him, Myles. Like falling hard .”

As a grin crept over his face, he said, “Yeah? Damn, I’m happy for you, man.” He threw an arm around my neck and pulled me to rest his forehead on the side of my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in love before. But it looks good on you. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you.” He freed me.

“I am happy.” My heart swarmed with warmth. Holy hell, was it love? Maybe.

“So, you think it’s going to last through the school year?” He cut into his waffle and ate a bite.

“I think so.” I pursed my lips. Fuck, I knew where he was going with this.

“What do you think he’ll do when you go play for the Red Wings?” He sipped some coffee. “I mean, you must have talked about it last night, right?” His attention drew to me, his head cocking.

A knot formed in my gut. “Uh, no. I haven’t told him about it yet.” I clenched my jaw. “I’m not even close to getting a contract. I haven’t even heard back from the scout. I’d have to meet with the coaches and all that shit first, you know?” And I didn’t need Zoma to freak out over nothing because of his history with his asshole boyfriend.

“Really? That doesn’t sound like you, Ace.” He sucked peanut butter off his index finger. “You’re usually one of those guys who tackles shit head-on, always has a plan for everything. Isn’t that how you goalies are born?”

“Well, this is different. Zoma is…” I sank my teeth into my lower lip. Myles would understand, right? “Zoma’s a little gun-shy about dating hockey players. His last boyfriend left him brokenhearted for an NHL contract. I don’t want to talk to him about it unless it’s a done deal.”

His brows snapped down. “Sort of sounds like you’re holding back, eh?” He ate more waffle.

“No, I’m keeping him from worrying about something that hasn’t happened. If it does, then we’ll talk.” I scoffed. “Besides, it’s too soon. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks.”

Tyler stumbled out of the hallway. “Water. I need some fucking water.” He held the heel of his hand to his forehead.

“Oh damn, you did tie one on last night.” With a soft snort, I drank my coffee and rolled my eyes at the same time as Myles.

“It’s all your fault, Ace.” Tyler ambled into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and snatched a bottled of water.

“My fault? How’s that?” With a smirk, I arched a brow. Whatever he was about to say, it was going to be stupid.

“I had to drink your celly shots.” He twisted the cap off the bottle and gulped half of it down, dribbling it down his chin.

“How many celly shots did you guys do?” I eyed Tyler. One was the norm, and no, we were not turning this into a superstition.

“Two. There were two rounds I had to do because fucking Mackenzie decided to show up.” He swiped his mouth with the back of his hand and his eyes grew wide. “Oh my God, coffee.” Scrambling to the other side of the kitchen, he set his water down, poured himself a cup, and added a shit ton of creamer.

“Mackenzie?” I scratched my cheek. He was the new D-man we’d picked up from Boston College. The fucker was good. “I didn’t even know he was old enough to get into a bar, let alone queer.”

“He’s, uh…” Tyler pinched his lips. “I don’t think he’s queer. I think he just didn’t care where he went.” Holding his coffee, Tyler strolled to us and took a chair at the table. “The guy sure likes to drink. Damn.” With a shake of his head, Tyler snickered.

“That Boston accent attracted a lot of dudes too.” A grin grew over Myles’s mouth. “For once, no one was giving me shit about mine.” He straightened in his chair. “Go pahrk you cahr, eh?”

Bursting out in laughter, my shoulders shook. “That was horrible. You sound like a Canadian doing a bad impression of a Bostonian.” Next time, I’d drag Zoma along after the game. There were some things I shouldn’t be missing.

With a chortle, Tyler said, “Don’t do that again, Myles. It hurts my head.”

Shit, Halloween… “Hey, Zoma and I are going to dress up and hit The Club for Halloween. Why don’t you two join us?” I should check the Coyotes schedule. I fished my phone out of my pocket and tapped on the screen.

“Yeah? Sounds fun.” With a grin, Tyler drank some coffee. “God, I need grease. Do we have something quick I can make?”

I Googled the schedule for the Coyotes. Shit, they were playing in New York that night. My heart sank. We’d have a good time anyway.

“There are some frozen sausages in the freezer flavored with maple syrup. I heat them up in a pan, but they’re pretty good in the microwave.” Myles ate more of his waffle.

“That sounds awesome.” Tyler stood and strolled into the kitchen again.

“So, it would be the four of us for Halloween unless you guys want to see if Mackenzie wants to join us?” The guy had to be queer and hiding it, right? I set my phone on the table.

“Sure. What are you going to be, Ace? A goalie?” Tyler snickered while setting his sausage on a plate.

“No, I’m going to be a cowboy.” I wiggled my shoulders and sat up straight. “It’s what Zoma wanted me to be.” I was going to catch shit about this for sure.

“A cowboy?” Tyler turned on the microwave and faced me. Trotting like a horse and slapping his ass, he said, “Save a horse, ride a cowboy!”

Myles busted out laughing.

“No.” With my cheeks heating, I dipped my gaze and stifled a laugh. These fuckers… “Are you still drunk?”

“Probably.” The microwave dinged. Tyler slid out his food and then came back to the table and dropped into his chair. “So what is Zoma going to be? A cow or a sheep? I know what you?—”

“Tyler, cowboys do not fuck their sheep, and no, he’s not going to be either of those. He’s going to be a leopard.” Curling the edge of my mouth, my mind filled with a sexy image of him in a catsuit. I couldn’t wait to go shopping with him.

“Oh…” Tyler wagged his brows at me. “It fits him.” He stuffed a sausage into his mouth and moaned. “Goddamn, just what I needed.” His gaze snapped to mine. “You know all the guys in the club are going to go after him, right?”

“So? I’ll be there.” Puffing out my chest, I sipped my coffee. “Nobody’s going to fuck with him when I’m around. Believe me.” Damn right.

Saturday, late morning, after a week of texting and FaceTiming Zoma, we hadn’t found time to go shopping for our costumes and we’d both left town with our teams. We’d lost our game last night, but it had been close, so I wasn’t in too much of a foul mood. I’d only let two goals slip by me.

It was time for Zoma’s competition to be aired on the university’s YouTube channel, so I set up my laptop on the dresser and waited at the edge of my bed with Myles and Tyler on either side of me. As I watched Zoma warm up, sprinting across the ice and twirling in the air with a jump and then landing it, my chest tightened. Fuck, I was more nervous for this than I was for most of our games. A black shirt with sequins hugged his upper body and sparkled in the lights while his black slacks showed off his well-rounded ass.

“Look, he landed that triple lutz so-cal whatever the fuck you call it.” With a wide grin, Tyler pointed at the screen.

I dipped my head with a chuckle. “Yeah, let’s hope he does that when it counts.” I rubbed my sweaty palms together. I’d tried looking up what all these jumps were, but fuck if I could remember any of them.

“I’m sure he’ll do great, Ace.” Myles squeezed my shoulder.

I nodded, biting my thumbnail. I couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure he was under. His whole performance would be over in three and a half minutes. Longer than the time a hockey player was on the ice for each time, but still.

Zoma took up his position on the ice, both of his arms held out to the side. Classical music started and he skated gracefully around the edge of the rink, his fluid movements matching the music.

“He’s fucking good, Ace.” Tyler leaned in closer to me, his gaze glued to the television.

Quickening his pace, Zoma skated diagonally across the ice, twisted backward, then held his leg out and spun in the air, landing on one skate.

“Fuck yeah, that’s my baby.” Fisting my hand, I pumped it into my chest. That was the jump he was having a problem with, right?

Tyler and Myles both glanced at me, smirks teasing their lips.

“What? Watch him skate.” I waved my fingers at the laptop. I was going to hear about this after, I knew it.

They turned their attention to the screen.

Zoma did some spins, some fancy footwork, and landed two more jumps with smaller jumps behind the first, and then skidded to a stop, one leg out in front of him and one arm down his leg with the other high up in the air. As the music stopped, a broad smile graced his lips, and he bowed toward the judges, and then looked into the camera and blew a kiss.

My insides warmed and my cheeks flushed. That was for me. I knew it. “Fucking fantastic. No way he’s not getting a medal for that.”

“I think you’re right.” Myles stood from the bed, grabbed a Gatorade from the table in my room, and twisted off the cap. “Time to hydrate, boys.”

“Damn right.” With a tap on my shoulder, Tyler rose, grabbed two Gatorades, and handed me one. “So?”

The numbers came up on the screen and Zoma had taken first place. He’d been the last skater. “Holy shit, he did it!” I hopped from the bed and jumped up and down, laughing and knocking the offered Gatorade to the floor.

“Dude, seriously? You don’t even get that excited when one of us scores.” With a snicker, Tyler picked up the Gatorade.

“Do too.” I snatched the drink from him and opened it. I’d text Zoma, and hopefully, we could talk before tonight’s game.