Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
COLBY
“He’s really pretty,” Stassie says from where she’s lying beside me.
Technically, her room is across the hall, but I’m grateful she’s decided to stay with me for a while.
I shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did. It was irresponsible, especially with having class at 8:00 a.m. followed by practice tomorrow, but luckily, the walk home sobered me up slightly. The brisk, cold air leaving nothing except my embarrassment and regret firmly in place.
And the pizza Stassie ordered the second we got back helped with the rest.
“He is,” I murmur into my pillow. “It’s kinda annoying how good-looking he is.”
She makes a sound of agreement, and then her hand lands in my hair. I close my eyes, relaxing as she cards her fingers through the strands.
Stassie has become my closest friend here at Whilton U. We moved in on the same day, and the first thing she told me was, “I don’t like jocks, so you better not annoy me, or I’ll use your toothbrush to clean the toilet and not tell you.”
I’m lucky I haven’t annoyed her yet, but the threat still lingers in my mind, so I keep my toothbrush hidden in my room. Just in case.
Our unlikely friendship started after we bonded over our love of dark animated fantasy TV shows, and when she opened up to me about feeling pressured to lose her virginity now she’s at college, I confided in her too.
She vowed to take my secret to the vault, and it helps that she couldn’t care less about the hype that seems to follow me around.
Stassie only cares about me and my mental well-being. Though it’s kind of sad that this is the first time in nineteen years I’m experiencing this type of friendship. One that doesn’t come with a side of jealousy or opportunistic behavior.
“He seems to care about you too,” she says quietly.
I hum in response. Because I don’t doubt it.
Tyler Beckmann has always been good to me. From the first time we met on campus, he’s been the one person who has remained consistent. I’ve never once doubted his intentions or questioned whether his kindness was a guise for an ulterior motive.
Then there’s the fact that he seems to be there every single time I need him, saving me from lurking reporters or interrupting students who try to push their luck and cross boundaries.
He’s always there when I need a safety net.
Someone to fall back on when the pressure gets too much.
It’s probably why my crush on him is as strong as it is.
Tyler is safe, and I don’t have many safe people in my life.
“Would you…” she begins, then huffs out a breath, seemingly stopping herself from whatever she was going to say.
I lift my head from where I’d buried it in my pillow, peering over at her with one eye.
“What?”
I mourn the loss of her soothing hand in my hair as she shifts to lie on her side, propping her head on her fist, and gives me an inquisitive look.
“Would you consider asking him to help you with your predicament?”
I let out a snort and roll over to mirror her position. “My predicament?”
“Yes. Your virginity predicament.”
I chuckle. “I don’t know if that’s the right word for it.”
“Humor me, m’kay?” She pokes me in the ribs, then holds her other hand up between us and counts on her fingers.
“He’s openly bi, he’s hot as hell, and he seems to really care about you.
I bet if you asked him to help you pop your cherry, he’d roll out the red carpet and dish up some top-shelf lube. ”
A loud bark of laughter escapes me.
“Is there such a thing as top-shelf lube?”
“I have no idea! Maybe there’s some with glitter in it. Gold-flecked lube,” she giggles, and I can’t help but grin, grateful at how she can lighten my mood so effortlessly.
She kind of reminds me of a pixie. Her hair is pastel pink, and she has a ring through the middle of her nose.
An array of colorful tattoos is dotted over both of her arms and fingers, and she alternates between wearing all black or pastel-colored clothes.
But the music she listens to? Yeah, I don’t think pixies listen to the kind of heavy metal where you can’t understand a word they’re saying from all the screaming.
She nudges me again, this time with her foot, and gives me an expectant look.
“What do you think?”
With a sigh, I shrug. “I don’t know. Just because he’s bi doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”
“It’s a great idea.”
“Because you came up with it?” I tease.
“Exactly.” She beams.
I laugh under my breath, but I don’t know what to say. If I could choose anyone, without fear of fallout or consequences, I would pick Tyler. But it’s not as easy as Stassie thinks.
First of all, we’re teammates. What problems would that cause if we were caught?
Would we both get kicked off the team?
Would my career be over before it got started?
What if I end up getting hurt in a way that I wasn’t expecting?
The woulds and what-ifs outweigh any positives. It’s too risky, and I’m too tired to explain the whirlwind of thoughts rushing through my brain right now. So instead, I curl my arms under the pillow, press my face into it, and change the subject.
“I don’t think gold-flecked lube is very safe. Or glitter lube.”
“Could you imagine the mess? Glitter gets everywhere,” she cackles.
“I wonder how they make flavored lube. Like, is there someone whose primary job is to taste test lube all day?” She rolls onto her back and mimics licking something off.
“Hm, no, this needs more cherry. Alert the flavor station! This lube needs more flavor!”
The bed shakes as I laugh into the pillow. “Your imagination is wild.”
She flashes me a broad grin. “I know. So, going back to Tyler Beckmann.”
I groan. “Do we have to?”
“Yes, because this is the first time I got to see him up close instead of in his sweaty hockey gear.”
“He’s hot when he’s sweaty too,” I mumble.
“Ew, gross. I’ve smelled you after a game and no thanks, but if that gets your motor going, you do you.”
I curl my arm tighter around my pillow, exhaustion beginning to creep up on me from the game and all the alcohol I consumed at the party.
“But seriously, you should think about it,” she suggests after a weighted pause.
She tucks some hair behind my ear, and her voice takes on a softer tone as she says, “I don’t think you’re going to find a better guy than him at Whilton U, and I hate to break it to you, but you’re running out of time, boo. ”
I know she’s right, but I don’t know what I’m more afraid of.
Being a virgin in the NHL or being rejected by Tyler.
Because both sound like hell to me.
The athletics facility is quiet when I arrive the following morning. There’s still an hour before practice, but I didn’t want to go back to my room after class only to come back out again.
Heading into the players’ lounge, I grab a protein shake and a banana muffin before taking a seat on one of the leather couches.
This facility is the epitome of luxury. There’s an air hockey table and leather couches in front of a large flat-screen TV.
We have an in-house chef who preps our pre- and post-game meals and also keeps the fridge and cupboards stocked with everything we could want.
There’s a red-light therapy room, saunas, and hyperbaric chambers to aid with our conditioning and recovery.
Plus, we have access to top athletic trainers to tend to our every need and an equipment room that makes me drool every time I step foot inside it.
I know this is nothing compared to what it will be like in the NHL, but I feel pretty damn spoilt already.
Once I finish my shake, I rinse out my bottle and shove the last of my muffin into my mouth, then make my way down the hall to the training room. I climb onto my favorite stationary bike, pop my headphones in, and begin a slow pedal to warm up.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Tyler appears in the doorway, his signature backward ballcap in place and a cautious expression on his face.
“Hey,” he says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good,” I reply and take out my headphones as I slowly bring my bike to a stop. “How about you?”
He shrugs and steps further into the room. “I’m fine. I just wanted to check in with you after last night. Listen, I…” His words trail off, gaze darting to the floor. He shifts on his feet, then pulls his hat off, running a hand through his hair before putting it back on.
My spine stiffens at the unusual energy pouring off him.
Wait, is he… nervous or something?
“I don’t know what it is, but I was all kinds of messed up after what you said. I’m sorry if me making you come last night made you uncomfortable.”
The choice of his words has my cheeks heating involuntarily. I know he doesn’t mean them in the way they sounded, but my mind can’t help but go down that road.
Like him making me come in other ways.
With his hand, or maybe his mouth.
His dick.
Fuck, stop it.
“You didn’t,” I choke out. “Make me uncomfortable, I mean.”
He sags in relief, that easygoing smile I like so much reappearing on his face.
“Good, I’m glad. But also, I don’t want you to think you have to deal with shit alone, Colbs. I know you’ve probably got other people to fall back on, but I wanted you to know that you have me too. For anything at all.”
I give him what I hope is a grateful smile, and then Stassie’s idea comes rushing back to the forefront of my mind.
Would it be such a crazy idea to ask him?
He’s safe. He wouldn’t hurt me. I can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s genuine. Not that I had any doubts before.
Plus, he hasn’t got a career in hockey ahead of him after he graduates, so the chances of us crossing paths again after this summer are slim. And I trust that he would keep this between us.
But could I go through with it and not come out burnt on the other side?
Could I have a fling with someone I have a crush on and keep my feelings from growing into something more?
You’re running out of time, boo.
It’s the sound of Stassie’s warning from last night popping into my head that has me blurting, “Actually, there’s maybe something you could help me with.”
His brows lift slightly, eyes lighting up his whole face. “Yeah?”
Climbing off the bike, I wipe my damp palms down the side of my athletic shorts. I take a step closer to him, swallowing the lump of nerves that’s formed in my throat and say, “I want to get a hat trick this year.”
He laughs, and the lightness of it has me relaxing slightly.
“If I remember correctly, you’ve had five hat tricks this year.”
Smiling, I huff out a breath and shake my head. “Not that kind of hat trick. I… uhh, have a list of first-time experiences I want to complete before the draft in the summer.”
Surprise flickers across his face.
“Okay, what are those?”
Here goes nothing.
Sucking in a deep breath, I rip off the Band-Aid, and my words come out in a rush.
“I want to win the Frozen Four, get drafted, and lose my virginity. Not necessarily in that order.”
Seconds go by, and he doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t move an inch, apart from his eyes widening in surprise. He simply stares at me like he’s been turned into stone.
Sweat begins to trickle down the back of my neck as seconds turn into minutes, and the silence settling between us feels like a boulder.
Okay. So, maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
Swallowing back a groan, I turn on my heel and head back to the bike, where I left my phone, my entire body heating with embarrassment.
What was I thinking? Of course he’s going to say no.
We’re teammates. Teammates don’t have friends-with-benefits arrangements.
“You probably think I’m a loser,” I mutter, avoiding looking in his general direction.
“What? No!” he splutters, quickly moving to join me next to the bike. “I just… Yeah. Sorry, you’ve just caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
He glances around the gym, and once he sees that we’re still alone, something seems to settle in him.
“Losing your virginity can be a big deal to some people, and anyone who tells you otherwise is an asshole,” he says quietly, and then his voice takes on a softer tone. “It’s kinda understandable why you haven’t.”
Dragging my teeth across my bottom lip, I raise my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, definitely. You need to find someone you trust. Someone who won’t take advantage of you. You said last night you don’t know whether people are genuine, so maybe I can help you find a girl? I can be like your wingman. I’ll vet them beforehand,” he suggests, offering a reassuring smile.
A girl.
The word hits me like a hulking defenseman into the boards.
Fuck. I really didn’t think this through. Because it’s not just admitting I’m still a virgin.
It’s the fact that I have to come out to him as well.
I dip my gaze back to the floor, anxiety swirling inside me like a tornado. I’ve come this far, so I can’t back down now.
With my eyes fixed on his beaten-up Vans, I conjure up the courage to let one more person in on my secret and hope like hell he can figure it out on his own without me saying the words out loud.
Not in here, at least.
“What if I don’t want to find a girl?” I mumble.
Silence descends over us once again, and the only sound I can hear is the rapid thud of my heartbeat in my ears.
When I finally glance back up, his brows are pinched. A mixture of confusion and shock is written across his face as his dark eyes bore into me.
“Colby…” he says slowly with a hint of apprehension.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. Taking a step closer, he erases the distance between us until I can feel the breath of his whispered words against my skin.
“Are you…” He shakes his head, like he’s shaking the words aside before he gives me an understanding smile. “Thank you. For telling me. I promise I’ll take it to the grave.”
A sense of relief washes over me, and my lips twitch in a lopsided smile as my breath comes out in a rush.
One challenge down, just one more to go.
I straighten my spine, take another deep breath, and muster up all the confidence a projected first overall draft pick should own and confess, “I don’t want you to be my wingman to find someone. I want it to be you.”