Break the Ice (Heart of a Viper #2)

Chapter 1Asher （16）

Shadows painted the old basketball court as the sun made its descent behind the red oaks surrounding the park.

The scent of leaves and asphalt baking beneath the blistering sun sent a tingling sensation in my nostrils—rays of sunlight shot through tree limbs, illuminating Cody’s narrowed eyes.

I lowered my body in anticipation, beads of sweat falling down my back, itching to get that puck the minute it dropped.

I smirked, taunting him as I swayed my hips from side to side. “Ready, Cody?”

Cody’s clenched jaw sent a jolt of electricity racing through my body. He didn’t respond; he just glared at me, and, boy, did I know that look. I’d played hockey with Cody my whole life, and that face told me he was going to be brutal.

Let’s see what you got, babe.

Cody was no center, and I’d thumped his ass the entire game. He should have played forward. I would have said as much, but who was I to jeopardize such a boon for our team?

We weren’t exactly best buds, even though we’d played hockey together on that busted-up basketball court for most of our lives. Like me, he was raised by a single mom, and they were just as broke as Mom and I. Cody tried to be my friend, but I was too afraid to get close.

Because he’s cute as fuck.

He had blond hair, big brown eyes, and made the butterflies take flight in my stomach anytime he got too close. There were moments after a game when I wanted to lean in and plant a big, fat kiss on his puffy pink lips.

I couldn’t do that.

Being around him was dangerous. I couldn’t let anyone know my secret. You didn’t reveal something like that in my neighborhood without getting an ass-beating to go along with it.

And I’ve had enough of those for one lifetime, thank you.

So, I did everything I could to avoid him.

Although I suppose I didn’t have to worry about crushing on Cody since he had moved to the rich part of town. For all I knew, we were playing our last game together. Rumor had it that he was about to play with the Vipers because his new dad could afford the fees and equipment.

Fuck, I was so jealous. It fueled my desire to whoop his ass even more. I had the skill to play with the Vipers, but not the money. It broke my heart.

I was sick and tired of my heart being broken over and over again. When was I gonna get a break?

I inhaled, bracing myself for the drop of the puck. My pulse thumped in my temples, and my hands tightened around my stick.

Get ready for me, you cute blond bitch.

What could I say? I was very extra that day.

It wasn’t like I was trying to embarrass him—okay, maybe I was trying to whoop his ass just a little, but I couldn’t help it!

I was a better center, and I could see in his eyes that he knew it, and it made him mad as hell.

He was pissed because I was better, and I was heated because I wanted the opportunities he could afford.

We were both fuming and ready to unleash our aggression on that dumb basketball court turned roller hockey rink.

I lived for moments like that—roughing each other up in a game of street hockey was the release we all needed.

On the court, we were all equal. It didn’t matter what your homelife was like. None of us had money, so that didn’t matter either. Kicking ass gave us all the sweet taste of victory we never got in normal life.

Especially me. With blades on my feet and a stick in my hands, I was unstoppable. Swiping the puck in a face-off or scoring a goal provided the few moments of power I had in my life.

It was the only time I felt like that. I certainly didn’t feel powerful at home; Mom’s shitty boyfriends made sure of that. Each one was crueler than the last, and they all made it their mission to “teach me how to be a man.”

I’d been learning how to “be a man” since I was thirteen years old, since mom caught me gazing just a little too long at Pete, our super, the day he stopped by to fix the kitchen sink in a pair of ripped jeans and a tight, white beater.

His tan skin shimmered under the kitchen light.

The muscles in his back flexed as he bent down to loosen a pipe beneath the sink.

He was so big. He looked like he could pick me up and throw me over his shoulder without a bit of trouble.

Hot.

I guess you could say that Pete, with his thick Brooklyn accent and a neck tattoo of a bloody dagger, was my gay awakening. I didn’t even realize I was staring until I heard Mom’s disgusted grunt.

That’s when things went from bad to fucking unbearable.

Mom told her piece of shit boyfriends that I was turning into a “fag” because I didn’t have a dad, and that they needed to toughen me up.

They were more than happy to oblige.

Like Mom, a toxic mix of booze and bitterness pumped through their veins, and releasing their anger onto me was a welcome relief for them.

Living in that place was like walking through a minefield; I never knew what would set off her or one of the assholes she kept around.

What I hated the most was that they were right.

I am gay .

It wasn’t that I hated being gay. It was a part of me, and someday I hoped to have the freedom just to be myself.

But, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t times when I wished I weren’t gay.

Then, maybe Mom and her drug-dealing boyfriends would leave me alone.

Maybe I could have a friend without the fear of them hating me once they figured out my truth.

I wanted to be left alone, yet yearned for connection so bad it hurt. I wanted someone who could understand how hard it was to hide everything. How tiring it was. It left a queasy feeling in the pit of my gut that I could never shake.

Stop thinking about this shit.

I shook my head, freeing myself from my crappy thoughts. Hockey was my escape, and I wasn’t about to let the bullshit at home fuck it up. Home didn’t exist when I was playing. It was just me and the game.

Braxton, a twenty-year-old burnout who worked at the Shake and Shimmy in town, served as the ref. He was terrible at it. He lived for the fighting, so he’d be the last person to stop a brawl, but he was so fucking jazzed by it all that we didn’t have the heart to tell him to leave.

Braxton held the puck about three feet off the ground. I took one last look at Cody before focusing on the puck. Braxton released it, and the world moved in slow motion as my teeth ground together, waiting for it to land.

It hit the ground with a thud. Players around me screamed while our sticks clashed, smashing against each other with a cracking sound that echoed off the surrounding trees.

Damn, it felt good. The jitters consumed me. The good kind, not the shitty kind that happens when you don’t want to go home.

I maneuvered my right hip against Cody, trying to shield the puck from him.

Eventually, I had him blocked, my back to him as he tried to poke the puck away from me.

His body enveloped me, pressing against my back as we scuffled for the puck.

I managed to slap it to Tony, our right winger, who raced toward their goal, but Zed, their defenseman, was on his ass in a heartbeat.

They battled at the edge of the court, where the asphalt met grass, and Tony landed on his ass as Zed shoulder-checked him.

We had no boards since we were playing on an old basketball court, so falling into the grass or down the hill on the opposite edge of the court was a common occurrence.

Zed slapped it to Cody, and I took off like lightning, sliding in front of Cody as he approached our goal, and kicking the puck to the right.

Roger, our defenseman, snagged it. The jagged asphalt tore up my leg, but there was no time to nurse my wounds.

I was back on my blades, and Roger passed it to me.

I could see our left winger, Jake, in my peripheral vision, so I reeled my stick back and slapped it to him.

Jake received the pass, but the defense was immediately on him. I pumped my legs to the offensive zone, thighs burning as I raced forward. I threw my body into the scuffle and battled alongside Jake.

I managed to poke the puck out of the skirmish, and it went skidding across the court.

Cody raced for it, but I pushed through the other players and met him at the puck.

I threw my shoulder into him as he smashed his body against me.

His musky stench slapped my senses as our bodies pressed together.

My teeth clenched as I repositioned myself to secure my balance.

With a hip-check, I sent him falling back a few steps, which was just enough time for me to take a shot.

I raised my stick, making it look like I was going to take a slap shot and aim for the upper left corner.

The goalie took the bait and raised his arms to catch it, which left the lower right corner open.

Goal.

The guys surrounded me, hugging me and patting my back.

Yes! Fuck, yes bitches!

I looked at Cody and saw his sly smirk. I didn’t know why he seemed so amused, but I went over and high-fived him for being a good sport about it.

“Let me introduce you to someone,” he said.

I cocked my head to the side. Who the hell would he want to introduce me to?

“Okay,” I said as I caught my breath and wiped the sweat off my brow.

He led me to a red Bronco parked in the lot adjacent to the court.

A man with muscular arms and brown hair, gray at the temples, leaned against the diver’s side door.

People passing by sometimes watched our games, so I thought nothing of it when I caught him laughing at some of our more questionable moves. I liked to call them creative .

It was street hockey after all.

His lips curled in a smirk, and he looked at me with warm, hazel eyes as I approached.

Cody motioned to me and said, “Coach Hughes, this is Asher Lachlan, the guy I was telling you about.”

The man pushed himself off the car and held out his hand. “Lachlan. Nice game out there. Bramble told me a lot about you, and he wasn’t wrong.”

I had no idea who the fuck this guy was or what anyone was talking about. “Um…thanks,” I stuttered out.

“I’m the head coach for the Vipers, and I was hoping you’d come to our tryouts next week.”

I can’t imagine what my face looked like at that moment. My eyes trailed to the ground to make sure my jaw wasn’t resting on it. “U-uh…”

Words escaped me. Why was he even there? Did Cody invite him?

My heart raced in my chest, and I beamed with pride.

He wants me to try out? He’s literally asking me to try out?

This was the coach of my dream team! I wanted to do backflips all the way home.

Home.

That queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach came back. Why try out when I knew I couldn’t afford to join? Mom would never spend a dime on something like that. I got the essentials—food and clothing—and that was it.

I looked down, shook my head, and pushed my voice through the lump in my throat. “I can’t afford it.”

Even though it was the end of June and close to eighty degrees outside, a shiver ran down my back. I felt exposed.

I’m just trash, and they all know it.

I wanted to run away.

Did Cody ask him to come? Why? He had to know I was too broke to join the team.

Was it some sort of cruel joke? A last-minute fuck you for never being his friend before he moved away and had the best fucking life ever with his mom, who wasn’t an awful bitch, and a new dad who had money? It was so fucking mean.

“I know that,” Coach replied. “I’ve been speaking with some of our sponsors about need-based scholarships. We all agree that the cost is a barrier, and we’d like to help alleviate that. I can’t guarantee you’ll get a spot, but I really want you to try out next week. Will you do that?”

My eyes met his, and he gave me a knowing look. I turned to Cody, his smile was dazzling, and his excitement made him look like an anime character.

Stop being so cute!

Why was he doing this? I didn’t deserve this.

“Say you’ll be there,” Coach added.

I could feel the tears forming, and I started to panic. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

I wasn’t supposed to cry in front of other men. I wasn’t supposed to cry, period.

My frantic nodding was enough to shake off the overwhelming emotions that threatened to pool at the base of my eyes and spill down my cheeks.

Coach Hughes smiled and gave me a little nod. “I look forward to seeing you there, and take care of that leg.”

“O-okay. ”

The coach chuckled and got into his car, then drove off. I stood there watching him drive away.

Did that just happen? Am I dreaming?

Cody’s voice shook me out of my disbelief. “You’ll be a great center for the Vipers.”

Then, he wrapped an arm around me, and I tensed—my fight-or-flight responses firing.

It was a habit. Aside from hockey, guys put their hands on me for one reason…

My eyes met his warm gaze, and I calmed down. There was no threat in his stare. I wasn’t used to being touched like that. It made me feel all weird and gooey. I had to stop myself from melting into him and resting my head on his shoulder.

I didn’t know what to say. People weren’t nice to me.

Why is this happening?

As if reading my mind, Cody added, “I couldn’t leave you with those clowns over there. You’re too good for that. When I mentioned you to Hughes, he got really excited. He’s had bad luck with centers and is desperate to find a good one.”

My heart started swelling, and I swear to God, I thought it might break through my chest.

I exhaled a hushed, “Thank you.”

“Sure. Wanna see my new house and play PS5?” Cody asked.

Fuck, I was so overwhelmed. Too many emotions were happening, so I started picking at my cuticles to distract myself. My breath steadied, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I plastered on a chill, effortless smile and said yes.

We walked side-by-side on the sidewalk leading to the nice part of town. I wanted to thank him, but I didn’t want to break down in front of him. So, I said the only thing I could that wouldn’t turn me into a blubbering mess. “You’re a real one, Cody.”

Cody looked at me and smiled. “You too, man.”

I was nervous as hell, but I told myself I could do it. This was the start of something new. It was more than just an opportunity to play hockey. It was a chance to make a real friend, a friend who had done the nicest fucking thing anyone had ever done for me.

Whatever feelings I had for Cody needed to be frozen and stored away where they couldn’t affect my life. I could hide it. I had to hide it. Friends like that were hard to find, and I couldn’t let my secret get in the way of what could be a really awesome friendship.

I needed all the help I could get.