Chapter 15 #2

Anton grunts, and I turn my attention to Tyler when he joins us after loading his own bag. It takes everything in me not to look at him for too long in fear that my face will give away everything we got up to last night.

We had sex again in the shower, then fell asleep on the bed with our hair still damp. Then Tyler woke me up by sucking my cock down his throat.

I hope those walls were soundproof, otherwise, my moans would’ve been an unwanted alarm for those around us.

My cock aches at the memory of his warm mouth around me. Of how his eyes flashed with burning desire as he swallowed down every drop of cum.

I want to do more of that this week, but I’m going to need a gag or something to stop me from being so loud.

Coach Vaughn appears from the doors behind us and claps his hands once to get our attention.

“Right, before we head to the airport, there’s one thing I want to say.

” His gaze bounces over all of us. “I’m really fucking proud of every single one of you.

We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the hard work and dedication you put in.

You show up every day, and you put everything you have into being the best player.

Not just for yourself, but for your teammates too.

This team is special. And it’s my honor to be your head coach. ”

An unfamiliar emotion gets lodged in my throat, and I quickly glance over to Tyler.

Is he thinking about how this will be his last tournament? After this weekend, his hockey career is pretty much done, and the thought of that sits like a boulder in my gut.

“Now, quit yapping and get on the bus so we can get on our way to Tampa. And Anton—” Coach Vaughn gives him a pointed look. “Yes, you’ll get an in-flight meal, you absolute hooligan, but if I hear you complaining about it, that’ll be the last time you’ll get anything from me.”

We laugh, and Liam teases Anton as we make our way onto the bus. Naturally, Tyler and I end up sitting together, and for the second time in twenty-four hours, we head into Boston, only this time we share a secret that I’ll hold close for a really long time.

The plane lands in Tampa midafternoon, and there’s another bus waiting for us to be transferred to our hotel. The tournament doesn’t start until Thursday, so we have two days to get settled.

As the bus takes us to the hotel, Coach Vaughn hands out the itinerary for the week.

Today, we’ll take a tour of the arena that will be hosting the tournament.

The home NHL team have gone on a ten-day road trip, allowing the ice to be transformed for the Frozen Four, and each school has an allocated time slot to use the gym facilities.

Then when we get back, we have some downtime before a video session and dinner, then tomorrow, we’ve been allocated a morning session for practice, followed by a workout and more video sessions.

The semifinal game is on Thursday, where we’ll face off against Minnesota, and then Saturday will be the final game.

When the bus pulls up outside the hotel, there’s a collective gasp and mumbles of excitement. The school must have gone all out because this hotel is the fanciest one we’ve stayed in.

We take our suitcases from the bus, leaving our gear bags to be taken to the arena, then head inside. The lobby is all shiny floors and high ceilings, and I find a tall plant to hide beside while Tyler sorts out our room key.

“Sixteenth floor.” He grins, wiggling the key card slip between his fingers.

We drop our bags in our room and share a quick, heated kiss, then head back downstairs and onto the bus to take us to the arena. There are TV crews and various media outlets filming our reactions, but with each hour that passes by, the more overwhelmed I become.

It’s… a lot. I mean, it’s a good kind of overwhelmed, but it’s like an out-of-body experience.

There are eyes on me everywhere I go, and it’s like I can’t fully appreciate this moment because I’m aware of the cameras flashing and the low murmurs into voice recorders.

As my teammates squawk like baby birds over the logo at center ice and the school’s name plastered around the boards, all I can think about is this is it.

This is what we’ve been working so hard toward all year, and now it’s here.

But the ache of melancholy in my chest has nothing to do with hockey and everything to do with Tyler.

Because being here at the Frozen Four means there’s only a month until he graduates, and I’m not sure I’m ready for whatever it is between us to be over.

I’m not sure I’m ready to give him up.

Sure, a lot can happen in four weeks. There’s still a lot of things we haven’t ticked off the spicy lesson checklist, but there’s this knot of emotions in my chest I haven’t been able to shake since I held those photos in my hand from the photo booth.

As much as being here is so fucking surreal, there’s a part of me that just wants to go back to the hotel and hide in the room with Tyler and pretend there isn’t a timer counting down our time together.

Once the tour of the arena is over, we head back to the hotel, and we’re given ninety minutes for downtime before we need to be in the conference room Coach has rented out for the week for a video session.

As the doors open into the shiny lobby, I spot my parents sitting in the ugly, weird-shaped chairs.

“Colby!” my mom calls, standing up so fast my dad jolts in his seat and knocks his glasses off.

My mom rushes over and wraps me in a hug, squeezing until I cough.

“Breathing would be useful.” I grimace but return her hug nonetheless.

She eases up her hold on me but doesn’t let me go. My dad joins us, clapping my shoulder with his hand.

“Good to see you, kid.”

“I didn’t know you were coming,” I admit, suddenly feeling emotional at their appearance.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” my dad responds.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tyler watching. There’s a smile on his face, but there’s a sad glimmer in his eye.

Fuck. I feel like an asshole, parading my supportive parents in front of him.

“We’re so proud of you, sweetie,” my mom says. She’s already got tears forming in her eyes.

“Callie’s joining us tomorrow night. She couldn’t get the time off work,” Dad says.

My sister works at a club in Manhattan where she manages their VIP parties. It’s rare she ever takes time off because she doesn’t trust anyone to run it as efficiently in her absence, so knowing she’s dragging herself away to come and support me means a lot.

“Do you have time to join us for lunch?” My mom points to the restaurant connected to the hotel lobby.

I pull out my phone to check the itinerary. “Uh, yeah. I need to keep an eye on the time, though. I have a video session soon.”

“We’ll be done by then.” Mom smiles.

Tyler gives me a small nod before making his way toward the elevators, and something pulls in my chest.

I don’t want him to go, but how can I explain to my parents who Tyler is to me? If I invite him, would it look odd that I haven’t invited any of my other teammates to lunch with my parents?

I glance around the lobby. Several of my teammates have split up, talking to other groups of people who must be their parents or family. Tyler is only one of a few who are heading to the elevators. The other guys are those whose families live in Europe.

My dad must pick up on my hesitation because he follows my gaze. “What is it, kid?”

“Would it be weird to ask if my friend can come with us? I share a room with him.”

“Of course he can, sweetie,” Mom says.

I unlock my phone and quickly fire off a text to Tyler.

Would it be crazy if you came to lunch with my parents?

When he reaches the elevator banks, he pulls out his phone, then lifts his head to look over at me. His brows furrow in a silent question. Are you sure?

I nod.

He says something to the others, then waves them inside the elevator when the doors slide open. He waits for them to close before walking over to where we’re standing.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McKay.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Tyler.”

“None of that formality. I’m Grace, and this is Jamie.”

“Tyler Beckmann,” my dad says, shaking his hand and clapping his other on Tyler’s shoulder. “That goal during the regionals? Fucking hell, that was a beauty.”

“Is there any need to use that language, Jamie?” my mom scolds.

My dad ignores her and continues to praise Tyler to the point his cheeks turn a little pink.

Grinning to myself, I head into the restaurant.

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