Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ACE
A fter meeting with my study group, I headed home. I kind of wanted to stop by Zoma’s after our phone conversation, but I was supposed to be making dinner for the squad, and then there was game footage to go over for this weekend’s away game. Dammit. How were we so busy?
I pulled into the driveway of the house, lumbered through the front door, and dropped my backpack next to the couch. I freed a long, ragged sigh. No way was I going to get the thought of Zoma meeting up with his ex out of my head.
Myles and Tyler were already watching some footage from the couch. Tyler paused the television and turned around. “Ace, what are you cooking tonight? I saw steaks thawing…”
With a scowl, I said, “Then I’m cooking chicken.” Sometimes, I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on in his head.
“Chicken?” Myles cocked a brow. “But you?—”
“I’m making steaks with baked potatoes.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m using that rub you like, Tyler.” I walked into the kitchen and pulled an orange Gatorade from the refrigerator.
“Oh good.” With a broad grin, Tyler hopped from the couch, strode to me, and planted a hand on my shoulder. “Can I help? You seem a little grumpy today.”
I opened the package of steaks and washed them under the water in the sink. “You can get me a plate.” I couldn’t let this shit with Zoma get to me. We’d had a decent week, even though I’d pulled back emotionally from him a little bit.
“Okay.” Tyler grabbed a plate and set it on the counter. “What happened?” He placed his hand on the counter next to the plate. “Something happened. I can see it all over your face.”
Yeah, I wasn’t good at hiding my emotions. Not around these guys. With a huff, I dried the steaks with paper towels and washed my hands. “Fuck, it’s Zoma.”
“Oh no…” Myles stood from the couch, ambled to us, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Talk to us. We can’t have you messed up right before a big game.”
I hung my head and let out a sharp exhale. I had to get this off my chest. “Zoma’s ex is coming to town to play the Coyotes on Saturday, and he’s giving Zoma tickets.” I smirked. “God, I want to see his ex get manhandled by Mason and Archer.”
“Oh, what time on Saturday?” Tyler shifted his weight.
“Their game starts right before ours, so we can’t watch it.” I twisted and rested my ass against the counter. “But he wants to meet with Zoma after the game. I guess he’s got something to tell him, and Zoma’s afraid there’s some problem with his family. I don’t know.” And it wasn’t my place to tell him he couldn’t go.
Myles’s eyes grew wide. “Not cool, eh.” He creased his brows. “I thought they weren’t on speaking terms?”
“They weren’t. But shit, something must have happened.” I rubbed my chest as it ached. I had to keep telling myself I had nothing to worry about here. I did trust Zoma. So what if he’d changed the subject when I was about to confess my feelings last weekend? He obviously hadn’t been ready to hear it.
“What if the guy wants Zoma back?” Tyler eyed me and grabbed my bicep. “I’m sorry to bring that up, Ace, but do you think it’s a possibility?”
“I suppose it is. But Zoma hates the guy. I can’t imagine he’d go back to him.” I snuck a peek at Tyler. Hadn’t he gone back to his ex in the past though? Didn’t he have a history of taking the fucker back?
“Even if he does want Zoma back, Zoma has you now. There’s no fucking comparison. He’d never take that asshole over you.” Myles threw an arm over my shoulders and side-hugged me.
Turning into Myles, I hooked an arm around his waist and buried my face in his neck. “I hope you’re right, buddy. I hope you’re right.” I squeezed him for a moment and straightened. I had shit to do. “Okay, enough of this.” I pointed at the refrigerator. “Tyler, you get on those baked potatoes, and, Myles, you can set the table.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” With a soft grin, Tyler saluted me.
We’d barely won our first game against Ohio last night, and now I was alone in my boring beige hotel room, resting against the headboard and staring at the wall. I’d let two goals slip in last night. I had to do better tonight and not put so much pressure on our forwards to score.
I’d set up a call with Mason and Archer this afternoon to talk about fucking Brody Roth, and it was almost time to call them. They knew who he was but didn’t know the guy had given Zoma tickets and all that.
My phone buzzed on the bed next to me. A smirk floated over my lips. I was supposed to call them, but they must have been dying to talk to me. I answered the call, setting it on speaker. “Hey.”
“Hey, Ace,” Mason said. “How are ya doing?”
“Good as can be expected.” I shifted to sitting and put my legs in a butterfly position. Never hurt to get a little stretching in before the game.
“So, this Roth fucker, what do you want us to do to him?” Mason asked. “Fuck him up?”
Snorting a laugh, I said, “Dude, what are you, the mob? No, just, uh…” The tightness in my chest unwound. Why not? “Yeah, fuck him up and tell him Ace sent you.” Now I sounded like a mob boss.
“You got it.” Mason cackled.
“Would you two stop it? We’re going to play fair, and…we’ll check him hard enough he sees stars. How about that?” Archer chuckled.
“I tell you what, I wish I knew the guy better so I could tell you what sort of chirps would set him off.” I thought a moment. Shit, Roth was meeting Zoma, so they better not mention my name in the game. “You know what? Don’t say anything about me. He gave Zoma tickets to the game, and then Zoma’s meeting up with him after, and I?—”
“He what?” Mason huffed. “Dude, you’re letting your man be alone with his ex while you’re out of town?”
“Mason, calm down. I’m sure Ace can trust Zoma. Right, Ace?” Archer asked.
“Yes, I trust him.” A knot wound tightly in my gut. I could trust him. I could. Then why was I getting so nervous about it? “Zoma says he hates him, but something came up, and for whatever the fuck reason, Roth wants to talk.” I pursed my lips. “I think Zoma’s got some unfinished business with that relationship, so it’ll be good for him.”
“Unfinished business, how?” Archer asked. “You think he still has some feelings for him, maybe? You said he hates the guy. Hate is a feeling.”
“Yeah, I get you.” I rolled my bottom lip under my teeth. My initial thought had been that it would be good for Zoma to get whatever shit he still had with Roth out in the open and done with. “I hope Zoma gets closure, and then we can move forward with our relationship.”
“Move forward? You feel like things aren’t moving the way they should?” Archer asked.
Archer never let anything slip by. I sighed. “Yeah, I, well, I love him, and I almost told him on Halloween, but he blocked me.” It was the best way to describe it.
“And you think it’s because of this Roth guy? I’ll take him out.” Mason growled.
“No, you won’t.” Archer exhaled. “Ace, you said Zoma was afraid of getting his heart broken by another hockey player. You need to talk to him about your prospects.” A smile carried through his voice. “Because my dad was pretty fucking intrigued when I talked to him about you.”
“Yeah, and I heard there are trade talks going on with Sampson…just sayin’.” Mason chuckled.
“Really? I have a chance?” My heart soared. God, what I’d give to stay here and play with these two.
“But no matter what, you have to have some deep conversations with Zoma,” Archer said.
“I know, I’m going to talk to him on Sunday. We’re spending the day together, and we’ll have time then.” A small smile crept over my lips. All this bullshit would come to a head, and I wasn’t going to let him go. No way. And now I had more than just Detroit to tell him about. “Thanks, Archer.”
“You’re welcome, man. Hey, have a good game tonight,” Archer said.
“Yeah, shutout, Ace. You know you got this,” Mason said.
“I do. I’m ready to roll.” With my heart lighter, I beamed into my phone. I was back in the game, and Ohio better watch their shit. “Bye, guys, and thanks again. Love you both.”
“Love you,” they both said, and the call ended.
There were only a few minutes left in the third quarter, and I was on it. We were looking at a shutout. As the puck was slapped around in Ohio’s D-zone, I grabbed my water bottle off the top of my net and squirted Gatorade into my mouth. Yeah, it was going to be all right. Hopefully, the Coyotes were beating the crap out of Buffalo, and tomorrow, I’d make a fresh start with Zoma after telling him about my prospects. Maybe I’d even top it off with a confession of my feelings for him. I curled the edge of my lips. Yeah, that’s what I’d do. Go all out.
I twisted, my gaze catching on the puck, now midway down the ice with Ohio’s center. He didn’t scare me. I was in the zone, and it was like watching them move in slow motion. “Bring it.” I tapped my stick on the ice and got into position.
Cummings blew past the Ohio center and checked him, throwing him to the ice. “Got ’em for ya, Ace.”
“Thank you kindly.” I ticked my helmeted head at him. Yeah, it was going to be a good night.