Chapter 4
FOUR
CONNOR
“Again!” Coach calls from the stands, earning him a solid glare from half of the team.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groan, gritting my teeth.
After more than two hours of drills and conditioning, my muscles ache like I’ve just been run through a meat grinder. But whatever Coach Reid wants, he gets.
“I’m not going to be able to walk after this,” Finn grumbles when we line up for our fifth attempt at getting this drill right.
“As long as you can skate tomorrow night, you’ll survive,” I joke, although I’m starting to think there might be some truth to it. When we take our spots on the center line, I can practically feel Coach’s needle eyes jumping between us and Aiden on the net.
Ever since our win against New Hampshire on Sunday, he’s been like a shark who’s sensed blood in the water.
He’s not the only one either. After six solid months scraping the bottom of the league, we’ve had a taste of breaking free.
And while we’ve already fucked all hopes of making it to the Frozen Four this season, we might avoid the bottom of the league, and that’s far better than nothing.
The whistle sounds and our offense line storms off the center, bypassing the first defense with ease. I know these guys like I know the back of my hand, so even though they’re wearing a different colored jersey for today’s practice, I anticipate their instinct move.
Trouble is, they do too.
I have Finn riding my coattails when the second down pass hits. He diverts off, chasing the puck toward Ethan on my left, who quickly passes it along. I’m right behind them, following them along the perimeter of the rink, always within reach.
When the puck smacks into my stick a second later, Luke appears like lightning on my right. I fly forward, taking possession of the puck, but he plasters himself to my side, closing in on me as I cut the corner.
“You know, if you wanted to hug me this badly you could’ve just asked,” I say, crossing behind him and cutting myself free. He barks a laugh from behind the visor on his helmet before giving chase. He’s quick to catch up with me.
Luke has been skating longer than I have—being the son of an NHL legend, he was practically born with skates on. And with both size and speed on his side, he is a beast on the ice. But even without the great Tom Conway’s legacy behind him, he would still be on track for the pros on skill alone.
I push past Luke’s defense line, cutting left and taking advantage of his blind spot. And with an assist from Tanner, the puck goes flying left across the ice and past Aiden, who anticipates the save on his right. The puck slides straight into the net. Fucking finally.
Coach sounds his whistle, and a collective sigh of relief runs through us all when we’re finally dismissed.
My legs feel like Jell-O when we step off the ice and it’s quieter than normal as we filter into the locker room.
I slump down on the bench closest to my locker, dropping my helmet beside me and running both hands through my sweat-soaked hair.
I was starting to think we’d be trapped out there all night.
“Afterparty at Connor’s when we destroy Stanford next weekend,” Ollie declares as he filters in, pushing my helmet out of the way so he can collapse on the bench beside me. He shakes his head in my direction, sweat flying everywhere. Little shit.
“Not happening,” I say. There’s no way I’m letting him throw another party at my place. I’ve barely recovered from the last time I let him turn the place upside down. Besides, Daisy would freak.
Hockey parties are wild on the best of days and judging by the way she was scowling at me when I ran into her yesterday at The Independence, a party with my rowdy teammates is not the way to get her on my good side.
And as much as I like pushing her buttons, I’m trying not to be a complete dick to her.
“Come on, man, you’ve got the perfect excuse to celebrate now that you’re finally living on your own.”
“Not anymore.”
“Bullshit.” Ollie stares at me like I’ve just grown an extra head. “Since when?”
I shrug noncommittally as I toss my jersey on top of my gear bag. “Over the weekend. She kind of just appeared.”
“She?” Tanner asks, popping his head out from behind his locker.
“Oh shit, now we’re talking.” Ollie is a dog with a bone.
Tanner is no better, when he chimes in, “She’s totally hot, isn’t she?”
“I wish the universe would dump a pretty girl on me.” Ollie sighs longingly beside me.
“I never said she was pretty.” Memories of furious hazel eyes and wet skin flash before my eyes. Curves in all the right places that have made it hard not to imagine her flush against me.
Yeah, she’s definitely pretty—I’m not sure pretty even covers it—but there’s no way I’m letting them know that. For her sake as much as my own.
Ollie clutches his hands to his chests and gasps like I’ve just insulted him. “All girls are pretty.”
I roll my eyes at his antics, tugging on my sweatpants. I’ll shower when I get home. “Trust me, she is the last thing I need.”
“Aha, suspicions confirmed. She is drop-dead gorgeous and definitely McKibben’s type,” Tanner declares with fanfare that has me clenching my jaw.
“I don’t have a type.”
“Oh, you have a type all right.”
“I don’t,” I snap at the two idiots by my side.
Because the truth is Daisy is definitely “drop dead gorgeous” and exactly my “type.” It’s a good thing I’m not hers, because there’s no way I can afford that distraction right now.
It takes all my effort to force out, “And even if I did, she’s not it. ”
“Do you want to swap?” Ollie asks, grinning like the cat who got the canary. He knows he’s hit the spot.
For all the crap he spews, Ollie is solid to his core.
I’ve seen the way he steps in to protect anyone who crosses his path, and I know from experience that he’s quick to fall hard when he lets himself.
But he’s been hurt one too many times and now he hides behind lewd jokes and a loudmouth that only gets him into trouble.
Anything to keep people at an arm’s length, except none of us have let him push us away.
I think that’s why he sticks with us even when we give him hell for all the shit he says.
“And move in with you idiots?” I huff, gesturing toward the guys huddled in the corner with me.
Luke and Finn are both watching the antics unfold, while Aiden is bent over his phone like always.
Aiden is the one person on our team none of us can read, except maybe Luke who’s known him since they were kids.
But even then, I don’t think Aiden shares his secrets.
Like why he’s always glued to his phone.
“Hey!” Luke pretends to look affronted, while Finn just laughs. It’s Aiden I’m slightly worried about, when he glances up at me, one brow raised in a challenge.
“Aiden excluded,” I add, because there’s no way I’m pissing off our goalie right before we face off against Stanford. That’s a bad idea all around.
“Thanks, man,” he huffs before slipping his phone into the outer pocket on his gear bag and getting to work on undoing his skates.
“So, when are we going to meet her?” Ollie pipes up again.
“How about never?” I groan, stuffing my skates into my locker and pulling out my phone instead.
I’ve got two missed calls from my sister and a photo of her sticking her tongue out at me. I roll my eyes—so mature of her. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that she’s raising a toddler.
It’s the text messages from Maddison that catch my attention though.
Maddie
Are you free?
You owe me a drink
Me
Can’t. Got a game tomorrow.
Maddie
We can skip the drink
Maddison and I met at a party freshman year.
She needed to get her ex off her back, and I needed my teammates to stop trying to constantly set me up, so we formed an alliance.
Which quickly snowballed into falling into bed together, no strings attached.
It’s been like that ever since—whenever one of us has an itch, the other one scratches it.
With her pre-med workload and my training schedule, it’s all we have time for.
But it’s gotten more and more infrequent lately.
“You’re no fun.” Ollie sulks beside me.
“Never claimed to be,” I tell him as I type out a quick response to Maddie, letting her know I’ll be home in twenty.
I ignore Ollie’s continued protests when I slip my phone into my pocket and reach for my coat.
Then I dash out of the locker room, my gear bag slung over my shoulder, before anyone can interrogate me about my plans for tonight.