32. Kai
KAI
I’m pouring myself a cup of coffee when my phone starts vibrating on my counter, Dane’s contact lighting up the screen.
Frowning, I answer the call, nervous about the reason since we didn’t have a check-in scheduled until after the regular season ends next week.
“Hello?”
“Kai, sorry for the early call. I’m in Chicago and forgot about the time zones for a minute. Is now a good time?”
I scrub a hand down my face, turning to lean back against the counter. “Sure. What’s going on?”
“Well, you know we’ve been having some issues with Ryder, and it turns out last night was the breaking point for Coach Stevens. Ryder is suspended, pending further review.”
I’m glad I’m not holding my mug, because Colton Ryder plays center, just like I do. And with him out, there’s a very good chance that a spot will open up for me on the roster. Earlier than planned. A lot earlier.
“It’s not a done deal yet. I still need to talk to Coach and see where his mind is at, but I just wanted to give you a heads up.
I know you guys are heading into postseason, and I know you wanted a run at the Frozen Four, but this is a huge opportunity, Kai.
Start thinking about it, and I’ll call you as soon as I know something more concrete. ”
We talk for a few more seconds before ending the call, leaving me staring at my kitchen cabinet.
Grayson walks into the kitchen then, coming to a stop next to me before waving a hand in front of my face. He squints. “You good?”
I nod my head, still not able to form words.
“You sure?” he asks, taking in my expression. “You don’t look great.”
“Dane just called,” I finally muster. “Ryder’s suspended.”
Grayson’s eyebrows jump, knowing what that possibly means for me. “Oh shit.”
I look at my best friend. “Oh shit is right.”
We win two road games, tying off the regular season and putting us in a great place going into the tournament.
If we keep playing the way we have been, we should have our conference in the bag. But if I leave, I don’t know what will happen.
I haven’t heard more from Dane over the last three days, and normally, that would be a good thing. But right now, it’s allowing more and more unknowns to spin on a loop in my mind, which is anything but good.
Will my team hate me if I leave?
Will Wren be okay if I leave early?
Am I ready to play at the next level?
So many questions, so few answers.
For now, I choose to focus on what I can control, and for tonight, that means hitting Oakley’s with the guys and my girl.
Wren is sitting on my lap, an arm wrapped around my shoulders, laughing at Weston’s dramatic retelling of this morning’s events at the hockey house.
“No, you don’t understand, she literally wouldn’t leave.
I didn’t even know her name!” he says, waving around as if that’s going to make any of this make any more sense.
“I don’t know who brought her home, but someone needs to lay down the rules.
You bring a girl home, she stays in your room.
She doesn’t just go wandering into someone else’s bed! ”
Asher smiles slightly. “Wasn’t me.”
“We all know that.” Weston rolls his eyes. “But really, walking into my own room with nothing but a towel on and finding a woman waiting was not on my bingo card at seven in the fucking morning.”
“Figured you wouldn’t mind that, though,” Grayson says from his seat next to Harlow. “You know, being the ladies’ man you are and all that.”
Harlow coughs, trying to hide her laugh, and I can feel Wren shaking with her own laughter.
“Ha, ha, ha.” Weston pouts, throwing a peanut at Grayson. “Very funny. Ladies love me, but I do not love surprises. At all.”
Halfway through our drinks, a girl with glossy dark hair and a backpack over one shoulder appears near the table. She’s wearing a fitted jacket and sneakers, her cheeks flushed.
“Hey, Asher,” she says.
Asher looks up, and the stoic expression he wears most often lifts. He gives the girl a small grin.
Interesting.
“Ava,” he says.
The table goes silent in the least subtle way possible.
Ava either doesn’t notice or is too confident to care. She slides into the empty chair beside Asher like she’s done it before, dropping her backpack at her feet.
“Sorry about missing you before your plans. I just need your psych notes before Professor Linton destroys my will to live tomorrow.”
“No problem.” Asher reaches into his bag beside his chair without a word and pulls out a notebook.
“You color-coded these?” Ava asks, flipping it open. “I told you it helps me sort things better, and you said it was excessive.”
“Well, maybe you were right, and it’s more helpful.”
She smiles at him, and the poor fucker’s ears turn red.
Harlow kicks my shin under the table. I cut her a look, and she mouths “sorry” as if she was aiming for Wren.
Ava tucks the notebook into her bag. “I’ll bring it back tomorrow before class. Thank you.” She stands, then leans down and kisses his cheek quickly. “You’re my hero.”
Asher freezes.
Ava is gone before anyone says a word, weaving through the tables and out the door with a little wave over her shoulder.
Asher stares at his water glass, cheeks pink.
Grayson is the first to crack, his shoulders shaking. Harlow covers her mouth. I look at my lap, fighting for my life as Wren hides her face in my neck to hide her laughter.
“Asher, you dirty scoundrel.” Weston’s the first to break the silence, of course. “You’ve been holding out on us!”
Asher rolls his eyes. “She’s in my psych class. She’s a nursing student and gets a little behind sometimes, so I let her borrow my notes.”
“So you color-coded your notes for the first time in your life?” Weston narrows his eyes. “I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you smile, either.”
“I’ve smiled.”
Weston looks to Grayson and me for backup.
Grayson avoids the question, leaning over to whisper something into Harlow’s ear, making her grin.
Instead of answering, I move my hand to rest on Wren’s thigh, taking a drink of my beer with the other.
“How does it feel having a built-in DD as your girlfriend?” Wren teases.
I move my hand farther up her thigh before sliding down between them slightly, and she sucks in a breath. I grin. “Feels good, Freckles. Feels real good.”
“Hello? Did everyone seem to forget our conversation?” Weston sighs. “I feel so left out of the romance right now.”
“You are,” Asher deadpans.
“And you deserve someone who will treat you better. Or at least someone who won’t take advantage of you and your nerd-level notes.” Weston stands. “I’m going to get another drink.”
Asher stares after him for a moment. “He does realize that he also uses me for my notes, right?”
We all laugh before Harlow widens her eyes at my girlfriend before tipping her head in the direction of the bathrooms. Wren shifts on my lap before standing. “Harlow and I are going to the bathroom really quick.”
Harlow quickly scoots out of the booth, and the girls link arms, already laughing at something as they make their way through the room.
I reach to take another drink of my beer, but Grayson wastes no time. “So, I take it you haven’t told her yet.”
“I haven’t heard anything more from Dane, so I don’t see the point in shaking things up.”
Asher looks between us. “I’m so out of the loop.”
“Dane called and had some potential news for me.” I sigh, not enjoying talking about this right now. “I might be called up sooner than planned.”
Asher’s brows lift. “Like, before we finish the tournaments?”
I nod, and Asher goes quiet, studying the table as if it’s the most interesting thing ever.
“That’s cool, dude,” he finally says. “But also shitty timing for us if we keep going the way we are. We finally have a good chance at winning the Frozen Four.”
“I know, which is why I haven’t said anything.” I meet his gaze. “And I’d appreciate it if everyone did the same. Until there’s something solid, I don’t want everyone losing their shit.”
He nods, and Grayson gives me an unapologetic look.
Weston finally reappears, eyes wide. “Pretty sure I just met my future wife.”
We all turn to look at him, Grayson taking the lead. “Come again?”
“Dead ass.” Weston plops into his seat. “She’s literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, wearing the wrong fucking colors, though.
She had a CSU hockey shirt on, like what the fuck?
In Oakley’s? The audacity of some people.
” He pauses, taking a drink before continuing.
“Anyway, I basically told her she has some balls wearing that here, and she told me to fuck all the way off.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “And that means she’s interested?”
He leans back in his seat, nodding. “Oh yeah, she wants me for sure.”
Asher sighs loudly. “I have so many fucking concerns about you.”
He isn’t the only one.
The girls return from the bathroom, looking from Weston’s love-drunk expression to our confused faces.
“What did we miss?” Wren asks, trying to take the seat next to me before I pull her back onto my lap.
I drop a kiss to her shoulder. “Nothing unusual, just Weston misreading signals and thinking a girl’s interested when she probably hates him.”
“I’m telling you! I was stunned silent, which never happens.
” Weston furrows his brow. “Actually, I think when I first met Wren it was the same.” I send him a glare, and he quickly puts his hands up in defense.
“Not like that, though. Like, yeah, she’s hot and who wouldn’t want to, uh, get to know her. ” He gulps. “But this is different!”
Just then, a girl passes a few tables away, moving toward the door with a takeout bag in one hand. Dark hair, green jacket, confident walk. Weston’s eyes all but bug out of his head.
“There,” he whisper-shouts. “That’s her!”
We all look, and Harlow cackles, my own recognition sparking.
Weston snaps toward Harlow. “You know her?”
“Oh, honey,” Harlow says, reaching out and giving him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “That’s Austyn Wade.”
Weston blinks. “You say that like it’s supposed to mean something.”
“It does.” I lean back, a grin on my face. “Pretty sure she’s Sam Hudson’s girlfriend.”
“That stupid mother fucker,” Weston mumbles. “Ruining my life even off the ice. Destiny has placed the woman of my dreams deep inside enemy territory.”
My mouth twitches. “She’s not in a territory. She’s in a relationship.”
“With Sam Hudson,” Grayson adds, because apparently he is choosing violence.
Weston points at him. “Unhelpful.”
“But accurate,” Asher says.
“Also,” Harlow adds gently, “you saw her for four seconds.”
“I know what I felt.” Weston leans back in his seat, pouting. “Some friends all of you are. I thought you were supposed to be supportive.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I’m sorry your future wife is dating a rival team’s captain.”
Weston narrows his eyes. “Your fake sincerity is weak as fuck.”
“And so is your chance with her,” Asher deadpans.
The table falls apart laughing.
“I hate all of you,” Weston mumbles, throwing another peanut Asher’s way before downing the rest of his drink in one go. “All of you will change your mind, just you wait.”
Looking around the table, I know I’ll miss everyone here like crazy whenever I leave PCU, especially the blue-eyed blonde leaning against my chest.