Face Offs & Cheap Shots (CU Hockey Book 2) Read online

  When I simply move one of my bags and slip hers in and fit mine on top, I give her the sternest look I can manage when it comes to her.

  She just ruffles my hair with a grin. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, princess.”

  She scowls. She hates being called a princess.

  We get into the car, but I pause at Jacobs with his phone plugged into my stereo.

  He smiles at me. “I figured your road trip music is horrible.”

  “Do you want to walk to New York?”

  “You wouldn’t make me walk.”

  I growl. Because he’s right.

  Baby laughs from the back seat. “You two are so cute.”

  “Are we going to have to put up with that for the next six hours?”

  “Me telling you that you’re cute? Yup. You called me a princess. Suck it up, Teddy.”

  Jacobs snickers. “Yeah, Teddy Bear. Besides, I’m totally cute.”

  Right again.

  But I’m going to pretend to be mad. And as we get on the road, I have to admit, his playlist is pretty good.

  Mellow, chill music with a beat. Not what I’d normally listen to but perfect for the long drive.

  “I don’t really want to admit this because it’s gross,” I start.

  Jacobs cocks his eyebrow at me.

  “I think we might have something in common other than hockey.”

  Jacobs gasps. “Really?”

  “Yeah. This music is good.”

  Jacobs smiles, but I don’t miss the way he’s firmly on his side of the car. He’s leaning against the door, away from me, with his hand on his thigh.

  I don’t know if he’s paranoid because Baby’s in the car, but she knows already, so I reach over and take his hand, placing it on my leg.

  He releases a loud breath like he’d been holding on to it, and I shoot him a wink.

  I don’t give a shit about public displays in front of my sister.

  It takes a million years to get anywhere thanks to Baby’s small bladder because we have to stop countless times. Jacobs and I trade off driving, but the closer we get to New York, the more antsy I become.

  “You okay?” Jacobs asks from the driver’s seat.

  I nod. “Yeah. Next rest stop, we’ll trade back before we hit the city.”

  “Okay.”

  It’s dusk by the time he pulls off the road.

  We get out of the car—Baby has to go pee again—but as I round the hood, Jacobs gets in my way.

  “What’s wrong? Are you regretting asking me to come? Because we’re about three hours too late for that.”

  I laugh. “No. Not … exactly.”

  His fingers intertwine with mine. “Can you tell me?”

  I let it all out in a rush. “I’m worried you’re going to judge me.” And as soon as the words are out of my mouth, I can’t help thinking how ridiculous I sound.

  Jacobs has been judging me for years.

  “About what?” he asks.

  “You know my family has money. That’s not a secret. But … our apartment is … extravagant. My life outside of Colchester is insane. I don’t like it. I don’t like the strings attached to it, and I don’t like … well, any of it.”

  “Hence the over-the-top frat boy attitude.”

  I want to dispute it, but I can’t. “I’ve never invited anyone from CU into my real life, and I’m scared.”

  Something happens to Jacobs’s expression. It softens, and I suddenly feel like we’re standing back in that locker room, about to kiss. I’m holding my breath and hoping that Jacobs gives me more.

  “You don’t have to be scared of me. I know your parents have stupid money. And one hundred percent honesty here, the reason I hated you for the last three years is because I don’t have what you have. It’s not that I want to be rich or I’m envious of a lavish lifestyle, but seeing you not care about doing stuff that could get you kicked out of school when I had to leave everything behind just to attend? When I felt guilty for even leaving the farm to go to school so I could have a better life than my parents, so I could get a decent job and help support them and my brothers … it got under my skin when you were so carefree. But I know all of those issues are on me, and I don’t want you to think it had anything to do with you. You’re … really amazing, and I wish I could’ve seen that sooner.”

  I’m not completely convinced he won’t freak out when he sees my family’s penthouse, but he has reassured me enough in what we’re doing that he won’t hold it against me for long.

  I cup the back of his head and close the gap between us, pressing my lips to his softly.

  Baby breaks us apart. “Come on, lovebirds! I need a nice, long soak in the hot tub when we get there.”

  Jacobs’s eyebrows shoot up. “You have a hot tub?”

  “That’s only the beginning.”

  Jacobs whistles. “Holy …”

  “Yup. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’ll rein in my envy.”

  He stares around the expansive tiled foyer like it’s the most impressive thing ever, and it’s seriously the most outdated part of the whole place.

  “I’ll show you my room.” I take his hand.

  “Is that a euphemism?” Baby yells as she heads in the other direction toward her bedroom.

  “I hope so,” Jacobs says.

  “I’ll show you that room later.”

  Jacobs laughs.

  We walk down a hallway that’s lined with a shit ton of artwork my mom bought. She likes to think of herself as an art connoisseur, but I’m pretty sure all the abstracts are insured for more than what they’re worth.

  “I’m glad you warned me about this place and told me how much you hate it or I’d be judging you so hard right now.”

  I cringe as I open my bedroom door.

  The pristine baby blue room with white crown molding and trimming is the ugliest thing ever.

  Jacobs glances around, looking confused. “This is so …”

  “Hideous, I know.”

  “I was going to say it’s not you.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “Rangers colors maybe? Hockey themed … something. This is all stiff and formal, and—”

  “My future.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I ignore him because I don’t want to get into it. “I will give you one thing.” I walk to the closet and open the door. I’ve got two of my old hockey sticks in there, and pinned to the back of my door is a signed poster of Mark Messier.

  “I knew it!”

  “How about we go steal the hot tub before Baby can get in it?”

  “I don’t have any trunks.”

  “What makes you think you need them?”

  “The fact your sister is here? Prefer her not to see me naked. Thanks.”

  “You might be the only person on our team that thinks that way, and I thank you for it. You can wear some of mine.”

  I go rummaging in my drawers and pull out a pair for each of us and throw him one.

  Jacobs pulls his shirt over his head, and I watch his muscles contract as he gets changed. My trunks are still in my hands; I haven’t even moved.

  One side of his mouth curves upward. “You going in clothes and all?”

  I shake it off. “Nope. I …”

  He runs his hand over his chest and down his tight abs. “Distracted?”

  “Maybe we should have sex instead.”

  Jacobs laughs. “Later. I want to see this hot tub.”

  I grab towels on the way out to the rooftop terrace.

  It’s a warm August night but still cool enough to enjoy the hot water, and while the view from our roof isn’t great, the surrounding city lights add New York charm to the place.

  We slip into the water, and Jacobs takes the spot opposite me.

  “Nuh-uh.” I hook my foot under his leg and pull him toward me.

  He lands in my lap and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Umm, hi.”

/>   “Hey.”

  We stay like that, staring at each other until I begin to see that familiar heat behind his gray eyes.

  He leans in, touching his lips to mine, and it’s the second time today where I haven’t felt like his kiss is about sex. Or getting off. Or leading to sex. It’s not just teammates fooling around.

  The sliding door opens, and I groan. “Baby, leave us alone,” I murmur against Jacobs’s lips and then keep kissing him.

  That’s when a throat clears. Definitely not my sister.

  I turn my head. “Oh, fuck.”

  There stands my father and mother, my dad’s arms folded across his wide chest, and my mom looking like a wide-eyed Barbie doll.

  “Oh, fuck indeed,” Dad says.

  “Hey, Dad. Mom.” I nod.

  Jacobs shoots off my lap so fast, water from the hot tub splashes near my parents’ feet.

  Dad reaches for my towel and holds it out for me. “I think we need to talk, don’t you?”

  We climb out, and Mom hands Jacobs a towel, while I reach for the one from Dad.

  He doesn’t let me take it. He lowers his voice, his grumbling deep and raspy. “You’ve gone too far this time, boy.”

  “Yes, because this was totally another one of my stunts to get you to see how immature I am. You’re not even supposed to be back from Europe yet.”

  Jacobs hasn’t taken his eyes off my forty-year-old mom. Yeah, she’s forty, and I’m twenty-one. It doesn’t take a mathematical genius to know she was barely legal when she hooked up with my father, who’s twenty years older than her.

  “I’m Jessica,” Mom says and holds her hand out for Jacobs.

  He eyes it and then looks at me.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Jacobs. He’s my …”

  His eyes widen.

  “Teammate.”

  He deflates, and where I was expecting it to be from relief, it looks more like disappointment.

  “Actually,” I say, “he’s … my boyfriend.”

  Mom throws her arms around him. “Oh, I’m so happy to meet you!”

  “Jessie,” Dad scolds.

  “Calm down, Theodore. You met me at a Playboy mansion party, for fuck’s sake. Be a little more open-minded. Maybe the reason your son has gone out of his way to piss you off all these years is because he’s gay and needed a different way to show it.”

  I run my hand over my face. “I’m not gay.”

  “I don’t know any straight men who’d be doing …” Dad waves toward the hot tub. “That.”

  “I’m … not straight either.” I take a deep breath. I don’t know what the hell I am other than someone falling for Jacobs.

  “Having a gay future CEO will not go over well with the board of directors,” Dad says.

  “Good!” I yell, skipping over the part where he ignored that I said I’m not gay.

  Mom’s gaze darts between us like it always does when we fight. On the side of her husband or son, her husband has the checkbook. Guess how many times she’s taken my side?

  “Maybe we should go inside, Jacob, and let these two talk.”

  Jacobs. With an S. Ugh.

  “It’s, uh”—Jacobs glances at me—“Topher, actually. Well, Christopher. Jacobs is my last name.”

  “Let’s go inside.” Mom drags him away.

  “Why do you do these things?” Dad asks. “Getting arrested, kissing a boy—”

  “I love how you group those together like both are equally wrong and offensive.”

  “That’s not what I mean. This isn’t you. You’re smart. You’re—”

  “I’m fucking miserable! That’s what I am. When I think about what’s waiting for me next year, I have to go do stupid shit so I can forget about it.”

  “That’s a little dramatic.”

  “No, what’s dramatic is assuming that me kissing a guy means I’m doing it for attention, or it’s just another way of acting out because God forbid your son could be queer!” I huff a humorless laugh. “I don’t even want to be CEO of your stupid company. I’m not corporate. I’m not smart. And the saddest part of all of this is you never listen when I tell you that. You say I’m young, that I’ll grow into the role, that it’s my legacy.”

  “It is.”

  I shake my head. “You completely ignore that your perfect child, the one who does want to follow in your footsteps, the one who’s smart enough to rule the world if she was given the same opportunities you want to give me, is probably sitting in her room right now, listening to me yell because she knows coming out here and telling you that herself will go unheard.”

  “Your sister is—”

  “The smartest person I know. But you don’t give her a chance. I assume because having a woman CEO is even more unfavorable to your board of directors than having a gay CEO, and if that’s the case, your stupid company doesn’t deserve Baby.”

  “Teddy.”

  “What will it take to get you to listen to what we have been trying to tell you for years?”

  Dad grits his teeth. “Well, fucking a guy in my hot tub might’ve done it.”

  “We weren’t fucking, geez.” I eye him. “Though, I guess that’s what you’re going to tell everyone when you announce you have no son anymore? Is that how it’s going to be?”

  I never, in my wildest imagination, thought disappointing my father could ever hurt me, but the silence that drags out with my question hanging in the air leaves surprising cracks in my heart.

  25

  Jacobs

  I am really scared. Not of Beck’s dad. I could easily take him if it came to that, not that I think it would.

  But this … it’s a lot. I can hear them yelling, and all that keeps looping through my head is I should have said no. If I hadn’t come here, this wouldn’t have happened, and now Beck has no choice but to come out to his family and force a label on us that we haven’t even talked about yet.

  Do I want to be his boyfriend? The way I lit up inside when he said the word proves I do. Badly. But we should have had a chance to decide that ourselves.

  The voices get louder, and I go to stand to go back out to him, but his mom—Jessica—quickly puts a hand on my arm.

  “Don’t bother with them. This happens every break.”

  “They fight?”

  She nods. “Completely normal. Teddy will do something foolish to annoy his father, and his father gets loud.”

  Beck’s dad barks something about responsibility, and for all Jessica says about it being normal, she jumps.

  “Drinks! Yes, let’s have a little relaxer while we wait for them to finish up.”

  She flits about pouring something into glasses and comes back over with a bright pink and sugary-looking concoction. She takes a quick sip and lets her eyes fall closed.

  This is … concerning.

  I lean forward and place my drink on the table, my gut way too unsettled to stomach anything. My entire body is tense, every muscle poised ready to go out there and give Beck’s dad a piece of my mind. We’ve come so far, the last thing I need is some shithead homophobe putting doubts in Beck’s head and making him feel like shit for being with me.

  It’s not my place to get involved, but it’s not in my nature to sit here and let someone I care about go through this alone.

  I push to my feet before Jessica can stop me, but I don’t even make it halfway to the door, when Beck throws it open and storms inside.

  “We’re leaving.” His face is red, and I’m stunned for a moment at his anger.

  “But, Teddy, you just got back.” Jessica tries to intercept him, but he brushes her off and grabs my arm.

  “I’m not staying here with him.” Beck’s hold is tight as he drags me for the door.

  “It’s late.” Her voice holds definite panic now. “Stay, and we can talk more in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I’m not talking to that asshole again,” he throws back over his shoulder.

  “Teddy Beckett, stop right there!”

  He pauses, and
I watch some of the tension drain from him. “What?”

  “You will stay here tonight, and we’ll talk in the morning. If you still want to leave, I’ll find you somewhere nice.”

  He shakes his head. “Dad won’t want someone like me under his roof.”

  “Well, that’s not his decision.”

  Beck finally looks at her, and I take a chance and slide my hand into his.

  “You’re okay with this?” Beck asks his mom. He sounds young. Like he’s scared of getting in trouble.

  Jessica sighs. “There’s nothing I need to be okay with. Besides, there’s plenty you don’t know about me—”

  “And that’s how it’s going to stay.” Beck doesn’t quite smile, but he does give in. “Tonight only. I’m out of here in the morning.”

  He drags me down the hall to his room. The expensive penthouse no longer holds the awe it did when I first walked in, and as soon as Beck closes the door to his lifeless room, I tug him into my arms.

  It’s pure relief when he grips me just as tightly.

  “What an asshole,” he says.

  “Total shithead.” I turn my head and press a kiss to his temple. “You okay?”

  “No. I wish you didn’t have to see that.”

  I pull back so I can look at him. His eyes are red with the pressure of holding back tears, and his jaw is tight. “I’m glad I was here.”

  His eyes narrow.

  “I’m not glad that I’m the reason all that happened, but I’m glad I could be here afterward to remind you that this is okay. People like that don’t get to have an opinion on who we’re attracted to.”

  Beck nods. “Will your parents mind if we head up there a few days early?”

  “Are you kidding?” I finally let Beck go so I can peel off the wet swim trunks and grab some sleep shorts from my bag. “They’ll be ecstatic to have two extra sets of hands.”

  “And …” His frown line deepens. I cross to his drawers and grab a random pair of sleep shorts that he takes from me without really knowing what he’s doing.

  “And?”

  “That’s … that’s not going to happen again, is it? I’d rather stay here than have your family shitty with you too.”

  “Nah, they’ll be fine. In fact”—I grab his biceps once he’s finished dressing—“I think they’ll prefer you’re a big, strong man.”