Taking a Shot (Desert Ice Hockey)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

It was nice to be back in Tempe, Arizona, away from Dad and all the bullshit memories Duluth always held for me, like the memories of my mother.

I shifted sideways onto the old green sectional couch in our newly rented hockey house, lifting my leg onto the cushion next to me.

I’d gotten here a week early to help with the movers and now all my buddies were about to arrive, the squad.

This bungalow had a smaller main room, but the six bedrooms meant none of us had to share this year.

And we were close to campus and the rink. Bonus.

I held my phone to my face. Did I have any new messages from the guys? I caught my reflection in the screen, my wavy, longer blond hair framing my brown eyes, the same ones Mom had when she was alive, not blue like dad’s.

Jonah, my best friend since we were ten, kicked the front door open, suitcases dangling from both of his hands, his straight black bangs dripping sweat onto his forehead. “Fuck, it’s hot as balls out there.” His blue-eyed gaze met mine.

“Hello to you, too.” I hopped up from the couch, strolled to him and grabbed a suitcase from his hand, then almost dropped it. “Damn, dude, what did you put in this thing? Rocks?” As a smile tugged at my lips, I threw an arm around him, giving him a quick hug.

“Ha, ha. My gear is in that one.” He kissed my cheek. “Good to see you, man. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it up to Duluth over the summer break. But you know…”

“Yeah, I know. Minneapolis is way more fun.” I hauled his suitcase down the hallway to the bedrooms with him following me. “How’s the family?” His mom was a hoot. An old, familiar ache wormed into my chest. If only my mom were still alive. But no amount of wishing was going to bring her back.

“They’re good. Mom gives you her best. She said, and I quote…” In a high-pitched voice, he said, “You make Archer some of that tuna casserole he loves.” He freed a soft snort. “She gave me the recipe.”

I stopped at the opening to his room, all his dark wood furniture already set up inside it, then faced him. “Seriously? Hell yes. Can you make it tonight?” We could DoorDash the ingredients if we needed to.

Wiping his brow, he shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, why not. Not sure if Mason’s going to like it.”

“Too fucking bad.” With a shake of my head, I huffed. Mason was not a Midwesterner. He didn’t understand the appeal of the Minnesotan tuna casserole. “He can order out.”

“Yeah.” I dropped off the suitcase into Jonah’s room and looked around. A few boxes were sitting on his bare mattress, ready to be unpacked. “Shit, we have a lot to do before practices start up, and then school.”

“That, we do.” He dropped his suitcase on the ground. “Hey, I heard you’ve been hooking up with a guy this last week?” He tilted his head, his gaze focused on me.

My chest warmed and I rubbed my neck. “Yeah, this hot little keyboard player in an all-queer band. His name’s Milo.” The image of Milo, all dark curls, and vivid green eyes, played inside my head. “He’s fucking hot as hell. Wears these lace panties and—”

“Nope, not going there.” Shaking his head, Jonah held up his palm to me. “Dude, keep your sexy times to yourself.”

With a stuttered chuckle, I said, “Yeah, whatever. At least I’m getting some and it’s not pussy for a change.” It was about time I focused on guys. Girls weren’t doing it for me anymore and I was done with the drama. Milo was easy and didn’t expect anything from me.

“I’m glad to see you’ve come to the dark side.” With a wide grin, he flicked his tongue in the corner of his mouth. Jonah was bisexual like me, but he’d been hooking up with guys lately, too.

“Yeah, yeah.” As I waved him off, I strolled out of the room.

“Get unpacked, so we can start on the tuna casserole.” My stomach grumbled.

I was already hungry, and it was barely four in the afternoon.

I’d trained hard this morning, testing out a new method for working on balance.

My exercise science major was coming in handy.

“Hello, hello.” Mason’s voice rang out in the main room.

“Hey, man.” I strutted to him and grabbed a box from his arms, then set it on the old farmhouse-style kitchen table, big enough for all six of us to sit at for our squad meals.

“Nice to see you.” I looked over the brown, wavy hair framing his light blue eyes, then down to the tattoos covering both arms under his graphic t-shirt.

I pointed at an inked dragon on his forearm. “You got a new one?”

“I did.” He beamed at me. “How are you doing, man? Haven’t seen you in what, two months?” He grabbed me up for a fierce hug, then kissed the side of my head and freed me.

“Yeah. Duluth was…well, Duluth. It rained a lot, but I got out and played some soccer with some high school buddies.” I patted his shoulders. “How about you?”

“Connecticut was beautiful. Dad had me working out like a fucking maniac. I kept trying to tell him I was supposed to rest, but you know how he is.” He rolled his eyes and planted his hands on his hips.

“Yeah, old NHL players are tough.” I smirked at him.

His dad was a former NHL D-man and Mason, our team’s best center, was already drafted with the Coyotes.

“Get in any fights over the summer?” I eyed him.

He was younger than the rest of us, at twenty-two, and had an aggressive streak.

But maybe that was what made him such a good player.

“I uh…” Chuckling inside a scoff, he shook his head. “Only one.” He held up his index finger to me. “Dude tried to hit on a guy I was dating, and I clocked him one.”

“Are you serious?” Lifting my brows, I barked out a laugh. “Who’s the guy? Are you still seeing him?” This was new. Mason didn’t date.

“No, man, he was gorgeous, but you know. I have to keep my options open.” He wagged his brows at me, then his face went slack. “What about you and this keyboard player?” He tapped his knuckles on my chest. “How is that going?”

“Good.” My cheeks heated and I dipped my head. “Depending on how things go, maybe I’ll see if he wants to start dating?” I arched a brow at Mason. We’d already hooked up a few times and the sex had been amazing. There was definite chemistry between us.

“Hell yes.” He gave me a side hug. “I’m happy for you.” His gaze flicked to his box. “Shit, I better get unpacked.” With a sigh, he picked up the box and headed for the hallway into the bedrooms. “We’ll talk later.”

“Yep.” I strode to the large picture window next to the door in the main room and looked out over the landscaping rock and desert plants in the front yard.

Ace, our star goalie, lumbered up the walkway with three boxes held in his thick arms.

It figured he’d try and bring all his shit in at once. I flung the door open and jogged to him. “Hey, let me help you with that.” I grabbed the top box from him.

He shook his dark curly hair off his gleaming forehead and took me in, his brown eyes twinkling. “Archer. God, it’s good to see you.” His smile reached his eyes.

“Good to see you, too.” I walked next to him up to our door.

“How was the ranch up in Montana?” He’d probably been riding horses and working on his family’s ranch all summer.

The guy was as strong as an ox and had the quickest reflexes I’d ever seen on a goalie.

He’d be getting an NHL contract for sure.

“Great.” He maneuvered his big, bulky frame and the two remaining boxes in through the front door, then set them down inside and wiped his brow. “Montana was nice and cool, nothing like this fucking sauna down here.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. You know it’s not going to cool off until November.” I set my box on top of his two and shut the door, then drew a deep inhale. “Did you just work the ranch all summer, or did you get some other stuff in?”

He curled the edge of his mouth. “I got some other stuff in.” He grabbed at the air in front of his hips and thrust a few times, biting his lower lip.

“Jesus, dude.” Chuckling, I shook my head and planted my hands on my hips. “Find another willing ranch hand?”

“You bet.” He ticked his brows at me. “My dad had no idea.” He patted my shoulder. “Hey, I hear you’re getting some from that hot keyboard player for Knot Me.”

Nodding I said, “I am. He’s amazing in bed.” I cocked my head. Wait a minute…“Didn’t you say you hooked up with the guitar player in the band once? What’s his name—”

“Axel.” He lifted his chin. “And damn, he was something,” he said with a head shake. “But the guy had some crazy crush on his older brother’s best friend, so I knew it would never go anywhere.”

“Yeah, too bad.” Patting his shoulder, I flicked my gaze out the window again, catching movement. “Hey, Jonah’s making his mom’s infamous tuna casserole for dinner.” I peered at him. “You in?”

“Fuck yeah. I’ll even help him make it.” Crouching down, he picked up all three of his boxes and started for the hallway. “Got to make sure all you puck boys are well fed.”

Focusing out the window again, I watched our right winger, Myles, pull a huge duffle bag out of the back seat of his car, then another. His wavy, dark blond hair was down to his shoulders now and he’d looked like he’d put on about ten pounds of muscle.

I rushed out the door and jogged down the driveway to his car, parked at the curb in front of our single-story bungalow. The heat and sunshine from the day swept over my skin. “Hey, need a hand?”

He straightened, throwing the handle of a duffle over one shoulder, and his gaze found mine. “Sure.” As a wide smile graced his lips, he held out a duffle bag to me. “Thanks.” He looked off toward the house. “God, it’s good to be back with everyone.”

“Yeah, most of the guys are already in there. I think we’re only missing Tyler now.” I gave him a side hug, then fist bumped him and pivoted to fall in beside him to walk to the house. “How was Chicago?”