8. Killian
Killian
“ H ey, Schultz!” Isaac, the head coach of the Icehawks, calls out to me. He claps me on the arm just as I’m getting off the rink. The kids have already shuffled off toward the locker room, leaving only us and the other coach. “Thanks for volunteering again today.”
“Yeah, sure thing.”
He rubs his jaw and sighs. “I really appreciate it because only two of us aren’t enough to round up these boys.”
“Can’t you hire more guys?” I ask. I get off the ice and Isaac follows my lead.
He’s wearing a coaching jacket and looks so much cooler than I do in my practice jersey.
Isaac was one of the seniors when I was new on the team, and I’ve always found it impressive how he went directly to coaching right after graduation.
He immediately knew what he wanted to do.
Unlike me, who has no clue where I’m going to end up after graduation.
“Not many people are interested in coaching bantam right now, unfortunately,” he tells me.
“I could pester some of the other guys on the team to help. Actually, Morgan always reminds the entire team we can volunteer. He brings it up every practice without fail.”
His eyes widen. “Really? Rhys does that? I didn’t know. ”
“Why do you seem so surprised?”
Isaac gives me a sheepish smile and shakes his head. “Nothing. Just news to me.”
Strange reaction, but I get it. Despite growing up on the same street, the two barely talk to each other. In fact, Rhys almost always flees every time Isaac shows up. Maybe that’s why it’s news to Isaac that Rhys apparently cares.
“Yeah,” I continue. “Walters actually pointed out that he should volunteer, and Morgan got all quiet and sulky about it.”
A soft huff escapes Isaac, and his stare drifts to the floor. “Anyway,” he says after a long, odd pause, “glad we have you, at least. You should think about coaching at the camp this summer.”
“Of course. I love doing it. Helps me get my mind off things.” I deliberately don’t respond to what he says about the camp, which he’s mentioned once or twice before. Isaac is looking for full-time coaches for it, but being a coach after graduation hasn’t been something I’ve ever considered.
But I mean it when I say I love coaching the Icehawks.
Staying behind to volunteer with the Icehawks’ training was a good idea, because I’m pumped.
It’s always exhilarating. I love seeing how much they improve with every week that passes, and it’s exciting to think that in a few years some of them might even play with Camrose.
After that, they might even go all the way to the major league.
That I had a tiny participation in what led up to that thrills me more than it should. I can already imagine it. Ten years from now, I’ll tell anyone that listens. Hey, I helped him with blocking drills when he was twelve!
So, yeah, helping with their training lifted my mood immediately. It made me almost forget how much I fucked up with Maddox, or that he was in the stands this afternoon.
It’s fine.
I’ll be fine.
Now that I’ve had time to mull it over, I realize I was coming onto him way too strongly.
Jesus, I’ve been obsessed with him for months, and the moment I could talk to him, I went all out.
Didn’t even let him breathe while we were bowling.
Then I tricked him into tutoring me, and even convinced myself he wanted to.
And what I was met with was a grumpy, pretty man who got annoyed I was late and forgot my book, and seemed entirely unamused by my lack of understanding of statistics. And don’t even get me started about the whole Levi debacle.
That was it. That was my sign to back off, really.
There’s no use in wasting time on something that’s already finished.
I got my chance, I wasted it, and I won’t bother him anymore.
No more staring, no more trying to turn on my charm.
I, Killian Schultz, promise to be a polite-but-detached, fully functioning member of society who doesn’t have the incessant urge to flirt… at least where Maddox is concerned.
Smiles, greetings, and nothing more. That’s it.
Easier said than done though, because when I head to Stella Café after the rink, I instantly spot him sitting by the bar and my heart does a little skip. I want to walk over to him and apologize and ask for another chance.
I force myself to drag my eyes away from him and head straight for my teammates.
“This is for you,” Rhys says when I take the empty seat in the booth next to him. Across from me, Nick smiles. Rhys opens a paper bag with Stella’s logo on it and takes out a thick club sandwich, handing it to me. “We thought you were going straight to the dorm, so Jennings packed this for you.”
“Aw, shit, thanks!”
Caleb’s still working by the counter, but I catch his attention and point at the sandwich, letting him know I appreciate it.
The guy pretends not to see me and turns away, but I know he saw me.
One thing about Caleb is that he likes to pretend he hates us but then he does all these cute little favors for everyone. It’s fucking adorable.
I can see Maddox from here, too. He’s sitting slightly turned away from us, his side profile completely in view.
He’s leaning his elbow against the counter and has his chin in his hand.
He’s probably watching something because he’s got AirPods in.
The corner of his mouth’s curved, and his eyes are soft but focused.
I wonder if he even knows he’s smiling or if he’s in that zone where he’s so engrossed in a show that he’s unaware of the expressions he’s making.
He’s so cute, and I remind myself of my promise to stop ogling him and snap my attention to the sandwich in my hands.
I eat the sandwich like I’m starving, even if I’m sure my movements are only jerky and uncoordinated because I really, really want to approach Maddox. What’s making him smile like that? What is he watching?
I absently listen as my friends talk. Rhys tells us about an ongoing fight our younger teammates have with the football team, and Nick nods along sympathetically as Rhys complains about the pettiness of it.
God.
I can’t help it.
It’s inevitable that my attention drifts to Maddox once again, and this time he’s no longer smiling. He’s got his hand over his mouth now, unmoving, and his knee’s shaking. Oh, he’s… tearing up?
Curious, I lean back as much as I can to get a better look at his screen, because I simply have no willpower.
I can’t tell exactly what he’s watching, but I glimpse a couple talking. They’re in a dark, empty street and the ambiance seems lonely. A breakup scene, maybe?
Holy shit, is Maddox tearing up because of a sad scene?
Maddox halts his show and snaps his laptop shut, then he blinks rapidly and rubs his hands against his denim jeans.
He lets out a breath as if composing himself, and what does it say about me that I wish he had actually let himself tear up?
I want to see him go through every range of emotion there is.
It annoys me how he holds himself back, even if the reasonable part of me says nobody wants to cry in a crowded café full of college students.
I don’t care. I want to see the real parts of him, not only the guarded version of him.
When he suddenly looks around the café, I duck my head so quickly that Rhys jolts beside me .
“What?” Rhys asks.
“Nothing,” I mumble.
“Shit, Schultz. You almost gave me a heart attack. What’s bothering you?”
“Ahh.” I rally for a response. Anything that doesn’t make it obvious I was, again, ogling Maddox. “Um… just remembered an assignment I have to submit for tomorrow. Haven’t started on it. Uh, internally panicking and all that.”
Rhys eyes me, his lips pursed. “Let’s head back, then.”
I almost tell him to hold that thought because I don’t want to walk past Maddox, but Nick lifts his head toward where Caleb is and says, “I think Caleb’s ready to go, too. Let’s call it a night.”
Awesome.
I have no choice but to get up and follow my friends toward the door where Caleb’s already waiting. Maddox is putting away his things, and I’m guessing Caleb’s probably going to drop him off. I try to make myself as small and invisible as possible. Which is impossible considering how huge I am.
Just as I’m walking past Maddox, barely a few inches away, he turns around on his stool and hops down from it as if he has no concept of spatial awareness.
Maddox lets out the cutest, most adorable squeak as he collides against my chest, his soft hair brushing against my chin, and my hands fly up to steady him by the arms.
He looks up at me, eyes wide, his mouth dropping open.
I should probably let go of him, but the fabric of his sweater is really soft, and I think my brain’s short-circuiting because I’ve actually got my hands on him.
“Oh,” he says, voice coming out weak. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
“You did seem really into your show.”
What the? So much for backing off and making it clear I would stop watching him. Great job, Killian. Splendid. Maddox’s cheeks pinken and he flicks his eyes to how I’m holding his arms. I let go of him immediately .
Maddox gives me a smile. Honestly, it’s barely a smile, and why I feel the impact as if someone just high-sticked me in the head is baffling. Over his shoulder, I spot the guys watching us. Caleb looks about a second away from marching over and punching me in the face.
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” he says.
“Called it. Missed me already?”
Then I wink.
The hell?
Great job pretending I’m a polite-but-detached fully functioning member of society who doesn’t have the incessant urge to flirt.
I’ve got issues is what it is. As soon as I do that, I expect Maddox to cringe, but instead…
he lets out a laugh. A soft, startled laugh that again makes me feel as if I’ve taken a hit to the head.
“I’ve been thinking about it and we should give tutoring another shot,” Maddox says. “We can meet up two times a week, if you’d like.”
My universe stops. I swear it does. I blink at him like the dumbass that I am, and I know this is when I should speak. This is it. This is my second chance, even if I’m not sure I deserve it.
“Only if you want to,” he adds. There’s nothing unsure about his tone. He’s letting me decide, and he’s smiling, but his voice is firm and decisive. He tacks it on as if the ball’s in my court, but we both know it’s completely in his.
My response comes out in a rush. “Fuck yeah.”
Forget my earlier resolve to back off. Backing off is overrated. Truthfully, I gave up too quickly and that’s unlike me. I’m a much stronger man than that.
“Madd!” Caleb calls. “You ready to go?”
Maddox turns his head and says, “Just a second!” He looks back at me. “Wednesdays and Saturdays at ten a.m. Don’t forget your book, and please don’t be late.”
I give him the biggest grin I’ve ever made in my life. “Yes, sir!”
He nods and turns away to walk toward where Caleb is waiting. As I approach, Caleb glowers at me. I’m sure he has things to say to me but is holding back. I know he adores me, though. The proof of it is in how my stomach’s still full from the sandwich he lovingly packed.
“Are you riding with Caleb?”
When my brain catches on that I’m the one Maddox is talking to, I give him a wide-eyed look. “I could be.”
Caleb scoffs. “No way.”
“Why not?” Maddox frowns at him. “You’ve got space in your car and you live in the same dorm. Don’t be rude.”
Smirking, I waggle my eyebrows. “Yeah, Jennings. Don’t be rude.”
Caleb’s jaw clenches. He concedes though, because of course he does. We all know he’ll do anything for Maddox. That doesn’t stop him from flipping me off when Maddox isn’t looking, though.
Nick sits in front with Caleb, and I swear he’s trying not to laugh. He runs his fingers down Caleb’s arm, and Caleb visibly relaxes and lets out a sigh before he puts his keys in the ignition.
In the back, I get sandwiched between Rhys and Maddox. And Rhys is the best friend ever. The best person to ever exist, because he doesn’t call me out when I pretend it’s too crowded so I need to push my knee against Maddox’s.
Caleb drops Maddox off at his dorm first. He turns the car to make the drive back to our dorm, going the same way we just came from.
“Can you let me out here?” I ask, when we’re approaching the café once more.
Caleb frowns at me through the rearview mirror. He slows to a stop and asks, “Did you leave something? Hurry and get it.”
“I left my car. No need to wait for me.”
Rhys lets out a bark of laughter. I get out and shut the door before I can hear the inevitable complaints from Caleb. Through his window, he glares at me with disbelief. That, and amazement. I’m confident I see amazement, too.