16. Niall
CHAPTER 16
NIALL
The rink was empty now, the hum of the arena fading as I stepped out of the locker room. The sharp scent of sweat and ice still clung to me, even after a quick shower. My muscles ached in the satisfying way they always did after a hard-fought game.
I rolled my shoulders, exhaling slowly. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind a quiet hum in my veins. The first win of the season and the first home game in the books. The guys were probably already at Roman and Hunter’s place, hanging out and grabbing some food. He’d offered up his apartment for a post-game hangout, some downtime after a win. I knew I should head there, but I needed a second.
Just a moment to reset.
The locker room had been full of noise, laughter, and a rush of energy. But now? Now, it was just me and the quiet of the night. I adjusted the strap of my duffel bag as I pushed through the doors leading outside—only to pull up short.
Eli was there.
He was leaning against the wall just beyond the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. My jacket . The one I’d given him at the store when he was shivering in that too-thin hoodie. Seeing him in it now sent an odd ripple through me—like a memory brushing too close to the present. The dim glow from the arena lights softened his features, casting shadows along his jaw. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. His eyes flicked up when he saw me, and something unreadable passed over his face before he pushed off the wall and stepped forward.
“Didn’t think you were ever gonna come out,” he said, his voice light and teasing.
I blinked. “What are you doing here?”
Eli huffed a laugh. “Nice to see you too, Captain.” He shrugged. “Asher and Gigi dragged me to the game. Said it was a crime I’d never been to one before. They bailed soon after the game ended—some art project deadline—but I figured I’d stick around.”
I frowned. “By yourself?”
“Yeah, well, don’t get any ideas,” he said, his lips twitching like he was holding back a grin. “It wasn’t because I was dying to see you in action or anything.”
I scoffed, shifting my weight. “Right.”
Eli rocked back on his heels, his gaze still on me. “I mean, I don’t know much about hockey, but even I could tell you were kicking ass out there.”
Something warm flickered in my chest, unexpected and unsettling. “You’re picking up on the game pretty fast,” I said. “Didn’t think you’d actually pay attention.”
He tilted his head slightly. “I’m not the kind of guy who ignores what interests my roommates. Or what they’re passionate about.”
That—huh. That shouldn’t have made my stomach feel weird.
Without thinking, I said, “Come with me?”
Eli blinked. “What?”
I shifted my duffel bag higher on my shoulder. “Team’s meeting up at Roman and Hunter’s campus apartment. Not a big thing. You should come.” I wasn’t sure why, but the thought of spending time with Eli… um… I mean, with the guys felt... right.
Eli’s brows lifted, but a slow smile tugged at his lips. “You’re inviting me?”
I wasn’t sure why I had, but I wasn’t about to take it back now. “Yeah.”
A beat passed. Then Eli nodded, the smile widening. “All right, Captain. Lead the way.”
The walk to my teammates’ apartment was quiet, save for the distant hum of campus nightlife and the occasional crunch of gravel underfoot. Eli fell into step beside me, hands tucked into the pockets of my jacket, his breath misting in the cold night air.
“Is this a regular thing?” he asked after a moment. “Post-game hangout?”
I nodded. “When we win.”
He hummed, thoughtful. “Guess I should start rooting for Michigan U hockey then.”
Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist—like he meant it. Like he actually gave a damn. I wasn’t sure what to do with that, so I just pushed forward, leading us to the apartment place. Now wasn’t the time to examine these unfamiliar feelings I had when it came to Eli.
The second we stepped inside, the warmth hit me—too many bodies packed into a small space, the air thick with the scent of pizza, beer, and lingering traces of sweat and cologne. Laughter and conversation filled the apartment with the kind of easy energy that came after a win. Music played low from a speaker in the corner, drowned out by the chatter.
Roman and Hunter’s place had the usual athlete-living setup—kind of messy, kind of lived-in. Two mismatched couches angled toward a TV, a coffee table cluttered with water bottles, protein bars, and a couple of PlayStation controllers. The walls had a mix of posters—hockey, football, a random movie that looked like it had been there since freshman year. A whiteboard hung by the kitchen, a rough schedule of workouts and team events scrawled across it in barely legible handwriting.
In the kitchen, someone had pushed a few chairs together to make room for trays of food—pizza boxes stacked high, chips spilling from their bags, a pack of Gatorade shoved between a couple of six-packs.
Roman spotted us first, lifting a bottle in greeting. “About time, Caldwell.” His gaze flicked to Eli. “And look who you brought. Welcome to the madhouse.”
“Had to take a minute,” I said, shrugging off my jacket.
His gaze flicked to Eli, who was already scanning the room, taking everything in. “And you brought your roommate. Nice.”
“Eli’s one of us now,” Micah said, slinging an arm around his shoulders like they’d been friends for years. “If he survives the night, that is.”
Eli snorted. “That supposed to be a threat?”
“More like a warning.”
Micah led us toward the main group, where a few of the guys were debating something over slices of pizza. Logan was nursing a drink in the corner, half-listening to the conversation but mostly keeping to himself, as usual. Across the room, Hunter and Roman were mid-argument.
“You got lucky,” Hunter said, shaking his head. “That puck barely crossed the line.”
Roman scoffed. “I fought for that goal. That wasn’t luck—that was skill and positioning.”
“Skill? You whiffed the first shot.”
“I was battling at the crease! Not my fault the puck took a weird bounce.”
“The only reason that went in was because their goalie was already looking for the rebound,” Hunter shot back.
“That’s luck.” Roman threw up his hands. “You had a wide-open rebound and still couldn’t bury it.”
Hunter smirked. “Yeah? And who was screening the goalie so you could sneak one in?”
A few guys laughed or groaned in agreement.
I let them argue and grabbed a bottle of water instead of beer. I wasn’t much for drinking on game nights—didn’t like the way it messed with my recovery.
Eli was still standing close, close enough I could feel the warmth radiating off him, even in the crowded space. He was watching the team dynamics, taking it all in, and for some reason, I liked that.
I told myself I wasn’t watching him. Not really. But every time he laughed, the room seemed warmer, and I hated that I noticed.
Then Micah clapped his hands together. “All right, boys. Time for a little fun.”
I exhaled sharply, shaking my head as I leaned back against the couch. “This is exactly how bad decisions start.”
Micah, already grinning like the troublemaker he was, raised his plastic cup in a toast. “And yet, here we are.”
I should’ve shut it down. Should’ve walked away before I got dragged into whatever chaos Micah had planned. But then Eli leaned in, just slightly, his arm brushing mine. He was sitting far too close, nudging my knee with his own. “Come on, Captain,” he said, voice light, teasing. “Live a little.”
It wasn’t the touch that got to me. It was the way he was looking at me—like he knew I couldn’t say no to him.
Like he knew I didn’t want to.
This guy.
I huffed out a breath.
It was easier to keep people at arm’s length. But with Eli… with Eli, things seem to be different. When he smiled at me, suddenly ‘ easier ’ didn’t feel good enough anymore.
I sighed. “Fine.”
A small cheer rippled through the group, and Micah clapped his hands together. “All right, let’s get started!”
The game started out easy, almost deceptively so. A few harmless truths—favorite pre-game rituals, worst class taken, most embarrassing moments on the ice. Dares followed, mild at first. Take a shot without using your hands. Chug a beer in under ten seconds. Stuff a ridiculous amount of popcorn into your mouth at once. Text your ex something ridiculous.
I sat back, arms crossed, watching as the chaos unfolded. I wasn’t playing. At least, I hadn’t planned to.
Then Micah, still riding the high of a win and the reckless buzz of alcohol, kicked things up a notch.
“Eli,” he announced, pointing dramatically. “Truth or dare?”
Eli stretched his legs out, looking completely at ease and like he wasn’t sitting in the middle of a disaster waiting to happen. He flicked a glance at me before answering. “Dare.”
Micah grinned, a little too widely. “Swap shirts with Hunter.”
Eli snorted but stood up, anyway. Hunter groaned, tugging his hoodie over his head before tossing it at Eli. In seconds, they’d swapped to the whoops and laughter of everyone around us. I shook my head, exhaling slowly. This was getting out of hand.
But the dares kept escalating. Sitting in each other’s laps. Speaking in a bad British accent for a full round. One of the rookies was dared to drink from a beer bottle using only their mouth, which ended in a coughing fit and more laughter. The room buzzed with energy, alcohol fueling their recklessness.
Then Micah turned, his gaze too sharp despite the alcohol making his movements a little loose. His eyes flicked from me to Eli. I knew that look. Trouble .
“All right, Captain,” Micah said, grinning. “Truth or dare?”
“Not playing,” I muttered.
“Oh, come on,” Eli nudged my arm, his tone teasing. “Live a little.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Truth.”
Micah groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “You suck. All right, fine. When was your last serious relationship?”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “Pass.”
“No passes,” Micah shot back.
“I changed my mind. Dare.”
That was my mistake.
Micah’s grin turned downright wicked. “You and Eli. Five minutes. Bathroom. No leaving early.”
Laughter rippled through the room, mixed with whistles and groans. Eli blinked, eyebrows raising in something that looked like amusement.
I tensed, my stomach twisting in ways I didn’t like. It was a joke, but under all the noise, there was something else. Something sharper. Heavier.
Eli met my gaze, and for the first time all night, I couldn’t read him.
“Well?” Micah pressed. “Rules are rules.”
The bathroom door shut behind us, sealing us in with a quiet click. It wasn’t a big bathroom. Not cramped, exactly, but small enough that Eli’s presence filled it in a way that felt entirely different now that we were alone.
Eli huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the sink like this whole thing was the funniest damn joke. “Kinda funny, huh? You and me, trapped in here.”
I crossed my arms, willing my pulse to settle. “Hilarious.”
My sarcasm didn’t faze him. He just grinned, and for some stupid reason, I looked directly at his mouth. Mistake. My stomach tightened, and I had to shift my stance, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm the room felt. Or maybe it was just him. His scent—soap and something sweet, probably from whatever drink he’d been nursing—was way too distracting.
Silence settled. The kind that wasn’t exactly awkward but wasn’t comfortable either. Just charged. Heavy.
Eli’s eyes flicked over me, his grin shifting into something more thoughtful. “So,” he said, voice casual. “You never answered Micah’s question.”
I blinked. “What?”
“When’s the last time you were in a serious relationship?” He tilted his head, waiting, like he was genuinely curious. Or maybe just amused at how I immediately tensed up.
I scoffed, shifting my weight. “Never.”
His brows lifted. “Never?”
I looked away, my jaw tightening. “Not really.”
Eli was quiet for a beat, then softer, “Why not?”
I exhaled slowly. I wasn’t sure why I was answering him at all. He didn’t push, he just waited, patient and steady, until I realized I wasn’t scared of the questions anymore. I was scared of the answers.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Never really felt a connection with anyone.”
I didn’t look at him when I said it, but I could feel the weight of his gaze studying me. I braced for some kind of reaction, but all he did was nod, like I’d said something perfectly reasonable. And then?—
“What about you?” I asked, forcing my eyes back to his. “Ever been in something serious?”
Eli hesitated, his fingers tapping idly against the sink. “Yeah,” he said eventually. “A couple of times…with girls.” A small smirk played on his lips, but there was something else in his expression. Like he was debating how much to say. Then, with a quiet inhale, he added, “And with a boy.”
I froze. I hadn’t expected that. I’d assumed?—
I swallowed hard, heat creeping up my neck. It was like being knocked off balance in a game and scrambling to recover. I’d assumed he was straight. Just like some people assumed they knew someone’s pronouns based on how they looked. It was a shitty realization. One I should’ve been better than.
I cleared my throat. “Oh.” Brilliant response.
Eli’s lips twitched. “Yeah. Oh.” Then he nodded slowly, his eyes briefly flicking away before returning to mine. “Yeah. It was... it didn’t really work out, but I learned a lot.” He chuckled lightly, like he was brushing it off. “Guess I’m still figuring that part of me out.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I could feel the weight of the moment, the shift in the air between us. He was opening up in a way I hadn’t expected, especially not in a cramped bathroom after a silly dare. The way his expression softened, like he was allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of me, made something twist in my chest. I wasn’t used to this. Not from him. Not from anyone.
I felt compelled to open up more to him. And yet, I was unsure of how much to reveal. How much of my own walls was I willing to let down with him right now? “It’s not that I haven’t tried to connect with a woman,” I said after a moment, my voice quieter than I meant. “I guess I just... I don’t really know what I’m supposed to feel. And I don’t want to mess things up by pretending to feel something I don’t.”
Eli’s eyes softened, and I saw understanding flicker in them, like he knew exactly what I meant. “I get it,” he said quietly, his voice low but steady. “I really do.”
Something shifted in the air between us. The tension coiled tighter, humming in the space that separated us—which wasn’t much at all. My fingers flexed at my sides. And then the urge hit me out of nowhere.
The urge to kiss him.
What the hell?
I stiffened, my brain scrambling for logic, for an explanation that made sense. It had to be the cramped space. The stupid game. The way he was looking at me, equal parts amused and knowing. It had to be something other than me just… wanting to.
Because I was straight.
Right?
Eli shifted slightly, and our arms brushed. My breath hitched. He didn’t move away. Neither did I.
What the hell was that?
I was debating whether to step back or lean in when a loud bang on the door made me nearly jump out of my damn skin.
“Time’s up, lovebirds!” Micah’s voice rang through the wood, obnoxiously loud. “Let’s go before I start charging you rent in there.”
Eli snorted, pushing off the sink like nothing had happened. Like my world hadn’t just tilted sideways. “Guess that’s our cue.”
He opened the door, stepping out first, and I followed, my movements a little too stiff. The room outside was full of laughter, teammates shouting out their next victims for truth or dare, completely unaware that my entire brain had just short-circuited.
I’d never had the urge to kiss a guy before.
Never thought about Eli this way—until now.
And now? I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do with it.