11. Killian
Killian
“ H ey, Schultz.” Across the table, Vega peers at me over his phone. “Walters’s house is throwing a party the week after next. You going?”
“Ah? Sure,” I tell him. Even if I don’t feel like it, I’ve been so distracted with hockey and schoolwork that I haven’t been able to hang out with the team outside practice, and it’s about time I show up to something.
“What about you two?” Vega asks Rhys and Nick.
“Nah,” they say in unison.
I snort. Typical.
Vega groans and argues with them about how they should show up to Walters’s thing, for camaraderie and all that shit—how since it’s all our last semester, we should really make the best of it.
I listen to the debate as I look around the crowded café.
It’s a Friday afternoon, and Stella has its usual horde of college students, but the one person I want to see is nowhere around.
“Right, Schultz?” Vega asks.
Not sure what he asked. “Uh-huh.”
“His house is throwing a party to pool money together for a good cause, and we should show up and support them.”
Rhys asks, “What cause? ”
“Um… kids who need library books.” Vega pauses and then says, “Look, I don’t know, but that’s what he said, and most of the team is going. You’re the captain and should show up, too, otherwise who’s going to make sure your players don’t make a mess of themselves?”
“He’s manipulating me,” Rhys grumbles at Nick. “Worst thing is, it’s working.”
“They’ll show up,” I say in the most reassuring voice I can.
As much as Rhys hates parties, he always feels responsible for the team—and if the entire team’s going to be there, I’m sure he’s coming.
And if he’s coming, then Nick’s surely going as well.
“You can tell Walters that we’ll be there for sure.
Can you ask him to buy that beer he brought last time?
I really liked it. I think it was called… uh… what was it called…”
My attention falters when the universe answers my pleas and Maddox walks into the café, a laptop bag slung over his shoulder.
He’s wearing the cutest puffer jacket, and when he removes it, he’s wearing a black sweater and fitted jeans that show off his slender legs.
Holy fuck. How does he always look so good?
I watch him make a beeline for the counter and sit down on a stool that’s just been vacated.
The girl behind the cash register hands him a ready-made drink, and I assume Caleb made it for him in advance.
“Yes?” Vega snaps his fingers in my face. “The beer’s called?”
“Maddox is here,” Nick says, laughing. “We’ve lost him.”
“Schultz, what brand of beer?”
“Yes,” I tell him. From across the café, I watch Maddox as he sets up camp at the counter.
Vega says, in an irritated voice, “He does this every time the pretty boy’s around.”
“Don’t call him that.” Only I can call him that. “You’d understand why if you ever met your soulmate.”
“Soulmate? Buddy, you’re delusional.”
I grin at Vega. He thinks I’m delusional, but am I really?
I’ve had a few more tutoring sessions with Maddox, and I swear he’s been warming up to me.
He finds my flirting amusing, it makes him laugh, and sometimes I’m able to tease him just enough for him to flirt back. It’s rare, but sooo worth it.
I can still remember how he held my collar, pulled me close, and talked about ruining me. Goddamn, the gorgeous nerd has a mouth.
What else can that mouth do?
“I’ve got it bad,” I confess to my friends. “Honestly, I wish he’d admit he’s into me too. There’s so much tension every time we’re in a room.”
“If you say so,” Vega says flatly.
“Now if you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to go talk to him.”
My teammates exchange looks that I ignore, and I quickly stride over to Maddox, who’s got his chin in one hand and is lazily typing around with the other.
The girl who’s sitting right next to him takes that moment to leave— thank you, universe —and I pull the now-empty stool closer to Maddox and take a seat.
“Hi, pretty boy.”
Maddox turns to me with a scowl, probably about to tell me not to call him that, but… surprisingly, as soon as he sees it’s me, his expression softens and he fights down a smile. My heart does a funny little dance at that.
“Hey,” he says.
I peek at his screen, wondering what he’s doing. He’s got Netflix open and has AirPods on the counter. He was planning to watch something again and drown out the café’s noise, I guess.
“What are you watching?” I ask. He only gives a slight shrug, so I shamelessly peer at his Netflix screen. “Wow, you binge a lot of romantic comedies, huh?”
His cheeks flush, and he shuts his laptop. “I wanted to watch something light because I’m pent-up from today.”
A grin spreads across my face.
Maddox raises a finger at me. “Don’t even start making jokes about my dildo right now.”
I wheeze in surprise, almost falling right off my stool, and the girl behind the register gives us an odd look. Voice low, I hiss, “The mouth on you. ”
“Mm-hmm.”
Still rattled but not letting that silence me, I ask, “So, why are you pent-up?”
“I’m working on my thesis and it’s giving me a headache.”
“What’s it about?”
He tells me about it, and while it’s a lot of jargon that I can’t comprehend, I think I could listen to Maddox talk all day. Maddox does this thing where he looks up when he’s trying to recall something, and it only brings more attention to his thick lashes, which I’m obsessed with.
Maddox sighs and places his hand on the counter, and I don’t think he notices how close it is to mine.
I resist shifting closer and brushing my pinky against his.
He says, “I’m working on my thesis, and the defense is coming up soon…
Wheeler’s my advisor and on the panel, and he says it’s on the right track, but who knows if the others will agree? ”
“Then I’ll fight them.”
He chokes on a laugh. “Killian!”
God, I really love how he says my name.
Smiling, Maddox leans his arms against the counter and eyes me. “How did your practice go? Looks like you might make it all the way to the championships at this rate.”
I let out an audible gasp and clap my hand over his mouth, making him squirm in his seat. I hiss, teasing, “Don’t jinx it!”
He pushes at my wrist and his breath’s warm against my palm. “Let go,” he says, voice muffled.
“You can’t say shit like that!” Still, I obey and place both my hands flat on my thighs. The one that was just on his mouth feels all tingly. “Don’t you know hockey players are superstitious as fuck? No. Bad Maddox!”
He snorts. “Don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.”
“You talk to me like that all the time.” I cock my head and say in a high-pitched voice, “Do this problem. Again. Do this one. Stop staring at me.”
He rolls his eyes and leans in, whispering, “You like being bossed around, though.”
Well, there goes my stupid dick again, taking all sorts of interest. I groan and scrub a hand over my face, and Maddox smiles at me in a way that makes it clear he knows exactly what he’s doing.
And my teammates call me delusional? If only they knew how Maddox speaks to me when nobody else is listening.
He wants me. I know it.
I struggle to come up with a smart response, but my thoughts are cut off when a hand comes down on my shoulder.
“Hey, man! Long time no see.”
Startled, I turn my head.
It’s Ulrich, an acquaintance from Hartley—a university across the city.
Their campus is close enough that we’ve run into each other at parties before.
Actually, I think it was Walters who introduced us, and I’m pretty sure he’s dating someone from Camrose, which is why he’s around a lot.
I don’t know him much, but we’ve hung out a few times.
The last time we hung out at a party, Ulrich had randomly asked me if I wanted a milkshake, and we drove to a twenty-four seven diner at two in the morning.
It was fun, until he made an obnoxious remark to the clerk.
He told the guy to focus on inventory, not eyeliner, after learning they were out of blueberries, and I told him to back off.
Ulrich had apologized briskly, and I’ve been iffy about him since then.
Maybe he’s been on better behavior since then, though. I might as well give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Ulrich!” I bump my fist with his. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’m waiting for a friend and spotted you. Thought I’d say hi.”
Ulrich’s eyes shift to Maddox and his mouth parts—I’m thinking he’s just as taken by Maddox’s pretty face, and I don’t blame him. But before I can introduce them, Maddox’s expression twists and he turns away, as if dismissing himself from this conversation .
I pat Maddox’s knee but instantly regret it when he flinches. Clearing my throat, I say, “Maddox, this is Ulrich. He goes to Hartley.” I grin at Ulrich. “Maddox is—”
“I know who he is. We went to high school together.” The usual energy in Ulrich’s voice is gone. “Hey, Maddox. Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
Maddox doesn’t look at him, simply raises a hand in greeting over his shoulder. I frown—this is rude, even for him. Ulrich seems to have the same impression, judging from the way his mouth curls into a frown.
Ulrich tries to be friendly, though. I think. There’s something about his tone that irks me. He says, “Didn’t realize you were at Camrose all this time. I’ve been wondering where you went, you know?”
“I see,” Maddox mumbles. His shoulders are so stiff that the discomfort in him is palpable. When I peer closer at Maddox, he’s staring at the counter and the coldness in his eyes sends electricity down my spine.
Laughing hoarsely, Ulrich says, “Still the same, huh?”
The tension in Maddox is getting to me, but I try to lighten the mood anyway. “That’s so cool that you went to high school together. What was Maddox like? Did he also tutor—”
A tight grip on my arm makes me pause, and Maddox finally stops staring at the counter to give me a desperate look. “Killian,” he says softly. “Stop.”
“Hmm?” I look between him and Ulrich, my mood plummeting further. “What’s going on? Do you two have history or something?”
Didn’t even realize Ulrich was queer, though when I glance at him for confirmation, his lips are pressed together tight and his shoulders are stiff.
My gut twists as my brain comes up with infinite reasons they’re acting this way—did they date? Did it end badly? I remember Ulrich talking about how he used to play hockey in high school, but that he decided it wasn’t for him .
Is Ulrich the reason Maddox won’t give hockey players a chance?
“No, we don’t,” Maddox says, and I’ve never heard his voice this weak.
Whatever’s going on, I don’t think I like Ulrich very much anymore.
Time to change the subject. I say, “Do you know Jennings, too? He transferred to Camrose at the start of the year.”
Ulrich takes a step back. “Caleb Jennings goes to Camrose?”
“Yeah. He actually works here, man.” I point toward the backroom. “I think he’s doing storage or some shit. Wait, let me see if we can get him.”
“Don’t get Caleb,” Maddox snaps in a clipped voice. He gets up and puts his laptop away in jerky movements, refusing to even look in Ulrich’s direction.
Ulrich stares down at Maddox with a frown, his hands in his pockets.
“Seriously, what the hell is going on here?” I ask.
And as if it weren’t chaotic enough already, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to decline the call when I see Dad’s name on the screen, and I groan because I know he’s going to make a big deal out of it if I don’t answer.
But—
Maddox doesn’t seem all right, and I can’t ignore it.
“I’m leaving,” Maddox announces. His laptop bag’s already hooked over his shoulder. “We on for tomorrow, Killian? For tutoring?”
I absently nod at him as I stare at Dad’s name on my phone.
“Goodbye, Maddox,” Ulrich says flatly, and Maddox ignores him completely.
That’s when I snap out of it.
“Wait, Maddox,” I call, but my phone continues to ring. I don’t even know what to focus on—Maddox rushing to leave, why Ulrich’s presence caused this, or that my fucking phone is still incessantly vibrating.
Goddamn it .
The last thing I need right now is my dad scolding me for not picking up the phone. Gritting my teeth, I watch Maddox go, and I wave a hand dismissively at Ulrich. Rude, but my mood’s horrible now. Ulrich nods before heading off, and I finally pick up my phone.
“Hey, Dad,” I force out.
My dad’s voice grates on my nerves, and I sit there and listen to him talk about how he and my brothers are driving to Buffalo for my next game. I’d rather he not, since it’s an important game and him being there will only put more pressure on me.
The entire time I’m on the phone, I glower at the café doors, already planning to go after Maddox as soon as Dad hangs up.