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

  Fuck me.

  I cup his head and pull him into the kiss, pushing my tongue into his mouth.

  Jacobs makes a noise at the back of his throat that sounds part whine and part needy, but then he pulls away and rolls off me.

  He lands next to me and wraps his arm around my waist, bringing me as close to him as I can get. “That was …”

  I lie in his arms, still reeling from the major revelation.

  I’ve never been in love before, but that’s definitely what this is.

  I think.

  All I know is I’ve never felt this way about someone.

  Instead of elation or clarity or any of those good things I should feel about it, all I can think is love at our age always ends.

  For the first time in my life, I’m allowed to take everything into account and choose what I want to do.

  My original plan was moving to New York. Jacobs probably still thinks that’s what’s going to happen.

  He doesn’t know that I have an out, and he doesn’t know my future is up for grabs.

  If he did and didn’t want to be a part of it … I don’t have the time or energy to go through heartbreak this year. Not with my new course load.

  We lie like that in silence for a while until Jacobs recovers.

  He leans up on his elbow. “I haven’t seen you for ages.”

  I laugh to cover my anxiety over us. “Was it not me on the ice with you?”

  “You know what I mean. We live next door to each other, we have practice and games together, but it’s like I never see you.”

  “I’ve been super busy with studying. A shocking thing about me that you would have never guessed is I didn’t plan my classes accordingly, and now all my hard subjects are this year. I’m talking back-to-back lectures every day.”

  Jacobs smiles. “That is such a Beck thing to do.”

  I swallow hard. “Where are you thinking of getting a job when you graduate? Here in Burlington or …” I know the answer before I finish the question. “Near Dorset, I’m guessing.”

  “That’s the plan. I want to be close to the farm so I can help out on weekends. Mom and Dad don’t have the money to employ more people, and my brothers aren’t going to be around forever. Rafter will be in college in two years.”

  The distance between Colchester and Dorset isn’t a big distance—it’s about the same between Grant and his boyfriend, and they’re making it work.

  “Maybe if I get out from underneath my father, your parents can adopt me and make me work on the farm.”

  Jacobs scoffs. “You’ll need to build usable muscle, not the gym-made shit you’re carrying around. Besides, isn’t there more chance of pigs flying than getting out of working for your dad?”

  Tell him about the deal.

  “Yeah … probably.”

  Idiot.

  I know my reasons for keeping it from him are thin, but I guess I’m not ready to face it all yet.

  I’m not ready to admit aloud that I’m terrified of failing.

  I’m scared of admitting that if my father doesn’t accept my plan and tries to make me work for his stupid company, I don’t know how to live without my money. My choice would be picking between toeing my father’s line or learning to live on a budget. And honestly, that’s probably the scariest thing I’m facing. No way in hell am I complaining about that to Jacobs. It’s the ultimate definition of privilege, and money is the barrier that kept us as enemies for three years.

  Jacobs’s finger traces over my frown line. “You look exhausted.”

  “I am.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  He rubs my temples, and I think I’m in heaven.

  “Go to sleep and get some rest.”

  I practically pass out before he finishes his sentence.

  31

  Jacobs

  Waking up without Beck for the third day in a row has a permanent scowl etched into my face. I know it’s there, because I can feel the deep lines in my forehead, the tension in my jaw, and the headache building behind my eyes.

  It makes concentrating in class a bitch. Beck’s been distracted since school started, but I’m trying to rationalize it. It’s our senior year, and it’s not like he’s out partying. He’s been busy in front of his laptop, half checked out of our conversations, and cagey about why he can’t make our lunch dates. The only time he comes alive again is on the ice. Or when we’re fucking.

  I can’t stop feeling like he’s pulling away. He’s physically here but not really present.

  It’s Wednesday morning, so I head for the cafeteria to meet Zach for our routine weekly breakfast we started doing this semester. I still can’t get a good read on him, but since Grant’s been gone, I’ve tried to reach out a little so he knows he’s not alone.

  Well, alone other than the weird, angry chick who’s always around.

  I fill my tray and head for a table in the corner where Zach is sitting, staring across the room and paying me zero attention. He’s cute in a little brother kinda way, but I have no idea what Grant sees in him. His small face is swamped by thick glasses, and his black hair is always a mess.

  My tray thunking onto the table makes him jump.

  “Hey.”

  “Topher.” He leans a little toward me. “I’m trying to figure out if they’re flirting or fighting,” he says, nodding to two girls across the room from us.

  “Why not both?”

  His smile makes his eyes squinty. “Well, you and Teddy prove that’s possible.”

  I sit down and start to dig into my lunch.

  “You look annoyed about something.” Zach cocks his head. “Or constipated. I can’t work out which.”

  “Eh. It’s nothing.”

  “In my experience when people say it’s nothing it tends to be something.”

  “You going all psych on me?”

  “You’re frowning.” He’s concentrating really hard now. “It’s Teddy, isn’t it?”

  I scoff around my mouthful. “Since when are you so perceptive?”

  “I was right?”

  He almost gets a laugh out of me. “Okay, so maybe he’s been a bit distant lately.”

  Zach’s silent for a moment, and I assume that’s it, but he surprises me when he keeps talking. “You know, when Foster was captain last year, he got busy. Like, really busy. We didn’t see each other for a few weeks, and so I got busy trying not to notice, but because of the whole thing with Morris, his coach pushed him so hard he had no free time and, well, maybe that’s what’s happening?”

  “Good point, except for one little detail.”

  Zach looks like he’s trying to do algebra and can’t work out the equation.

  “I’m also captain. If it was because of hockey, I’d know about it.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mmhmm.”

  “Huh. Okay. Well, what’s he been doing?”

  “He’s with me most nights, but during the day, he disappears. We have different classes, and it’s a super-busy year for him, but … I don’t know. I always find the time to send him a text to see how his day is going. Or, I did, until he stopped answering them about a week ago. And then when we are together, he’s distracted, like he’s constantly thinking about something else.”

  “Are you sure he’s going to classes?”

  I blink at him. “Of course he’s …” But then I really think about it. “Well, it’s not like I follow him, but I assume he’s going to his classes.” Although, ditching them and trying to catch up on the laptop at night would make sense. But why would he do that?

  “When there’s secrecy in a relationship, there’s often a high probability of unfaithfulness,” Zach says casually.

  I jerk back. “You think he’s cheating on me?”

  Zach holds his hands up. “Shit, no. Well, I don’t know. I’m saying the probability is high—”

  “Thanks for the help, but he’s not cheating.”

  He couldn’t be. We’re still having mind-blowing sex. At
least, I think it’s mind-blowing.

  “Good, okay, fine.” Zach looks like he’s panicking. Like maybe he has offended me in some way. “I didn’t mean to accuse him—”

  “Hey.” I set my hand on his shoulder. “It’s cool. Beck’s not cheating.”

  “Can I ask how you know?”

  “I don’t.” I shrug. “It’s called trust. But … he is hiding something. The thing is, I don’t know why.”

  “Then … why don’t you find out?”

  “Oh yeah, and how do I do that, genius?”

  “Ask him.”

  “He says nothing’s wrong. Or he’s vague and then changes the subject.”

  “Then follow him?”

  I look at Zach with new eyes, and he blinks back at me innocently. “Grant’s gotta keep an eye on you.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I laugh at his innocence, still unable to tell if it’s all an act or not. Either way, once breakfast is over, his words are stuck in my brain. Beck’s last class is in the building opposite mine. There’s no reason why I can’t duck out a couple of minutes early, just to see where he’s going.

  So I do.

  No one in the lecture theater looks up as I grab my shit and leave. The hall outside is already busy, and it’s lucky I leave early because I’ve barely made it outside when I see Beck and two girls, I’m assuming from his class, leave the building opposite.

  The second I see him though, I know this isn’t right.

  Even with this weird distance, seeing his face makes me smile. And for someone I couldn’t stand a few months back, it’s incredible how quickly he’s become my everything. I won’t do anything to fuck with that.

  I also don’t want to be that guy who follows a partner instead of talking about it.

  And I know we need to talk about it. I just don’t know what to say.

  What if he doesn’t want to be with me anymore, and he’s stringing me along for the rest of the year?

  So instead of following Beck, I watch my boyfriend walk away.

  I don’t know what I was thinking in taking advice off Zach. No offense to the guy, but before Grant, he hadn’t even had a relationship.

  I’m gonna do this my way. I send Beck a text to stop by my room tonight, no matter how late it is, and then I get to work.

  I’m not used to keeping my mouth shut, and if Beck doesn’t wanna tell me what’s up, then fine, but he needs to at least tell me it has nothing to do with us.

  I swing by Cohen’s room and borrow his lame as fuck twinkle lights, set up my music through a speaker, and check I still have some massage oil. It’s the furthest thing from a romantic atmosphere, but it’s the thought, right? Maybe he just needs to relax.

  I stare at my room, hit with the urge to abort this messed-up idea, when there’s a knock at my door. It’s only six, but of course Beck would show up when I’m borderline freaking out. I huff a breath, thinking if it’s anyone else, they’re going to get an earful.

  It isn’t.

  Beck looks dead tired, but he’s smiling which automatically makes me smile. I grab the strap of his bag and pull him inside. As soon as I have the door closed, I dump his shit on the ground and pull him into a long hug.

  “What’s going on?” he asks, wrapping his arms around my waist.

  I answer by squeezing him tighter.

  All the worry from the last few days melts away as he turns his face and kisses my neck. And then— “What the hell have you done to your room?”

  I start to laugh. “I was trying to be romantic, but it looks stupid.”

  “Because romance is stupid.”

  “Your face is stupid.”

  He nips my neck and steps away. “I need to lie down.”

  “Wait a minute.” Before he can get away, I pull his shirt up over his head.

  “Fine, but you’re doing all the work,” he grumbles.

  “I am, but we’re not fucking.”

  I get him to lie on his front, then straddle his waist and grab my massage oil. I pour a generous amount onto his smooth, warm back.

  Beck lets out a long groan as I get to work. “This is exactly what I needed.”

  “I know.” I lean down to kiss the back of his head. “You know, I’ve been worried the last few weeks.”

  His muscles tense under my hands. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. You’ve been weird, and I thought it might have to do with us.”

  He starts to shake his head and sit up, but I press my palm between his shoulder blades and hold him in place.

  “Calm down, Teddy.”

  “It has nothing to do with us.”

  I work for a minute without answering. “The thing is, when Zach suggested you were cheating on me—”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t buy it for a second. Geez, calm down. You’re supposed to be relaxing here.”

  “That’s a bit hard when someone thinks I’m a cheater.”

  “It’s Zach. He looks at things from a statistical point of view, not an emotional one. He also said because you wouldn’t tell me where you were going I should follow you, but when I was about to, I realized that’s kind of a fucked-up thing to do.”

  “You … were going to follow me?”

  “Yes. But then I remembered something.”

  “I’m not a d-bag?”

  “That, and … I love you.”

  He rolls beneath me without throwing me off so I’m straddling his waist. “You want to say that to my face?”

  “Need an ego stroke?”

  “No, I’m giving you a chance to say that shit properly.”

  My smile splits my face. “I. Love. You.”

  “You poor bastard.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls down so I’m hovering above him.

  “As I was saying, I remembered that, and I remembered that we’re a team, and I trust you, and if there’s something you’re keeping from me it must be for a good reason. So you can keep your secret, but you also need to remember that even when something doesn’t have to do with me—” I take a deep breath. “—it still has to do with us. That’s the deal.”

  “Because we’re a team.”

  “Exactly.”

  Beck holds me close and rolls us so he’s on top. His blue eyes stare down at me with awe. “Why are you so sweet and levelheaded? It’s yucky.”

  “Well, my boyfriend’s ridiculous, so I don’t have much choice.”

  He presses a kiss right over my heart, and when he pulls back, he looks a little more serious. “I might have picked up some more classes.”

  “What? That’s great!”

  “Yeah …” He frowns. “In education.”

  Huh? Okay, not what I was expecting. “Umm … education?”

  His lips flatten. “Coaching, actually—a minor certificate—but this is why I haven’t said anything.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “There’s … there’s something I didn’t tell you about that call with my father.”

  “What is it?”

  “He technically gave me an out. He said if I can prove myself and create a future that will fund the type of lifestyle I want, then he won’t force me to do a job I clearly have no interest in.”

  My face lights up. “That’s amazi—”

  “No, it’s not. I mean, yeah, it will be if I can pull it off, but it’s a lot of pressure, and it’s a lot more classes. I thought I could handle it, but I’m already burning out.”

  “What are you going to do with a business degree and coaching minor?”

  Beck takes a deep breath. “I don’t know,” he mumbles.

  Oh, he so knows.

  “We’re a team. We just established that. I won’t judge you for anything you say.”

  Beck cocks his brow at me.

  “Okay, if you want to teach aliens how to play hockey on Mars, I will judge you, but I would never belittle what you want to do for the rest of your life.”

  “Unless it’s ali
ens.”

  I nod. “Exactly.”

  Beck bites his lip. “I … I want to run a hockey camp that teaches high school kids how to play at the collegiate level.” His words come out hurried, but I catch every one of them.

  “That’s …”

  “It’s stupid.” He waves me off. “I don’t even know if it could make me money or give me a stable lifestyle. If not, my dad’s going to shut it down and force me to go to New York, and—”

  I cut off his self-deprecating wallowing with a kiss, and when I think he won’t keep rambling, I kiss him some more for good measure.

  When I pull back, he doesn’t say anything.

  “You know, your dad can’t force you to go to New York and do anything.”

  “He can. He controls all my finances, he pays my tuition, and … and you’re frowning at me.”

  “I’m not. I’m … okay, maybe I am a little, but—”

  Beck lifts me off him and stands, pacing the room. “This is why I didn’t say anything. I’m scrambling to keep myself from being cut off, and you hate my money to begin with, so I don’t expect you to understand.”

  I slowly stand. “I do get it. If I had as much money as you, I wouldn’t want to lose it either. But some things are worth standing up for. Some things are worth fighting for.” I step closer to him. “And Teddy? You are worth fighting for. You deserve to be happy. Money or no money, you at least deserve that. Stop looking at the short-term win of placating your father. What do you want in the long run, and how can you work toward your ultimate goal?”

  “I want to run my own camp,” Beck says with new determination. “I mean, I know it will be a lot of work, and I’d have to find a position as a coach for a few years and work my way up to it, but I thought …” He sucks in another deep breath. “I figured, with your degree—you did sports medicine courses, right? Having a physiotherapist on board would be smart, and you could coach too because you’re so good, and—”

  I break into a smile. “You’ve thought about us together in years to come?”

  Beck’s mouth drops open. “No? I mean … hypothetically?” His voice cracks, and it’s so damn adorable.

  I move to wrap my arms around him. “Admit it. You love me,” I murmur in his ear.

  He lowers his head and nods. “I love you too.”