Goal Lines & First Times (CU Hockey Book 3) Read online

  I know they’ll support me. But I don’t even know what I’d be asking them to support.

  I wish I had someone to talk to about all this.

  So I force a smile and deflect, deflect, deflect. I turn to Foster. “When do you get the game schedule? I want to try to come see you play, but it depends on my course load.”

  Mom and Dad start planning out which of Foster’s games they’re going to make it to, and—big surprise—it sounds like a good ninety percent of the East Coast ones.

  “I won’t get much ice time,” Foster says.

  Mom tsks. “We’ll be there to support you anyway, sweetie.”

  My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I get this little buzz of excitement. No one notices as I subtly slide it out and check the display, finding a message from the ChatUp app waiting for me.

  I know enough to not open it in front of my family. It’s either going to be a fun message from Richie or a gigantic veiny dick in my face. My mom does not need to bear witness to that.

  I excuse myself and head down the hall to the bathroom. When I open the app, I ignore the few messages waiting for me and home in on the one I was hoping for.

  It’s been a few weeks now, and I’ve chatted to a few guys who have seemed normal, and a lot who haven’t, but … Richie’s somehow different than everyone else on here. He’s not in a rush. He’s not pushy. He might make suggestive jokes, but it doesn’t feel like an actual invitation.

  He is a hockey player though. And if he plays for UVM, he definitely knows who my brother is. The number of times I’ve been used to get to Foster is way too high for me not to assume he’ll be the same. There’s nothing college hockey players love more than an in with the NHL.

  I need to make sure Richie is in this for me before he finds out that little detail.

  My stomach flips when I see his messages. I’m eager and excited to get them, but does that equate to sexual attraction? I don’t know.

  @confused96: I learned a science joke today.

  @scientistguy: Let’s hear it.

  @confused96: Okay, but disclaimer, I’m shit at jokes so sorry in advance if I mess it up.

  @scientistguy: Well, with an endorsement like that, I’m very interested.

  @confused96: Did I mention it was a lame joke?

  @scientistguy: Did I mention those are my favorite kind?

  Richie seems to be typing for a while, and I’m not sure why him messaging me about some stupid joke has me smiling, but I can’t wipe the expression from my face.

  @confused96: Did you hear oxygen went on a date with plutonium?

  @scientistguy: …?

  @confused96: It went OK.

  I blink. Stare at the answer for a moment, trying to figure it out. O … K? Is that meant to be from the periodic table? What the hell does plutonium have to do with it though?

  Before I can reply, a stream of messages starts to pop up.

  @confused96: Wait.

  Shit.

  POTASSIUM.

  Oxygen and POTASSIUM. They dated. It went okay.

  I mean OK!!!!

  **Face palm** I give up. Wanna see my dick?

  My laugh bursts from me, and is it kind of adorable that he fucked the whole thing up? I’m thinking yes.

  @confused96: So … how am I going with those cool points?

  I smile at my screen.

  @scientistguy: If it helps, you genuinely made me laugh. Which means joke successful, right?

  @confused96: Except I’m pretty sure people are supposed to laugh with you. Not at you.

  @scientistguy: Maybe you’re taking yourself too seriously.

  @confused96: Even if I wanted to, trust me when I say that’s not possible. So what are you up to tonight? I just got back to campus after visiting family in Maine.

  @scientistguy: Actually, I’m currently at a family thing. I better go before they assume I’ve shit myself.

  I hit Send before my brain catches up with me and stare at what is possibly the least sexy sentence to ever word. I swear my eye twitches.

  Okay, Seth. Time to go die now.

  @scientistguy: And now I’m an embarrassed idiot. Strike that image from your brain immediately.

  @confused96: I dunno, it’s cemented right in there.

  @scientistguy: Is this the part where I face palm and offer you a pic of my junk?

  @confused96: I mean, if it’ll help you sleep better tonight, I’m happy to make that sacrifice.

  Cheeky asshole.

  @scientistguy: Bye, Richie.

  @confused96: Night, man who still refuses to give me his name.

  I should give him my name, but I’m cautious. Richie already knows I’m doing my master’s at UVM, and it has in his profile he’s an undergrad there too. I don’t want randos from hookup apps tracking me down.

  There’s something in the notion that if I give him my name, this becomes real, and I might not be ready to deal with that.

  @scientistguy: You can call me Schrödinger.

  @confused96: I don’t even know how to spell that. I might have to copy and paste.

  I laugh.

  @scientistguy: It’s a dude who came up with a scientific theory everyone likes to recycle. I’m still figuring myself out and haven’t landed on a label, so until I know for sure, I’m every label.

  @confused96: Or no label at all.

  @scientistguy: Exactly!

  @confused96: Did I just science? Go me!

  He’s ridiculous. It makes me smile.

  @scientistguy: You made up for the terrible joke for sure.

  @confused96: I’m going to put you in my ChatUp contacts as Einstein.

  I start to type that Einstein was a physicist and I’m a statistical science major, but I let it go.

  @scientistguy: Einstein is fine. Though I find it interesting you could spell that.

  @confused96: Autocorrect is my friend for ducking once.

  Taking his lead, I change his contact name to Richie.

  As I hit save, a knock on the door makes me jump, and I almost drop my phone in the toilet.

  “You okay, honey?”

  Ugh. Moms.

  September

  Einstein: I saw a squirrel today. I think they’re my spirit animal.

  Richie: Eating nuts all day?

  Einstein: You wish. I meant because they seem so scattery and lost.

  Richie: That’s deep.

  Einstein: That’s what he said.

  Richie: Well played. I just googled dumbest animals on the planet to find my spirit animal. I’m not like you. I can’t simply pick one because I see it eating nuts and think HMM, I LIKE THE LOOK OF THOSE NUTS.

  Einstein: That’s not how it happened, but go on. What did you find?

  Richie: Pandas are so dumb, they’re carnivorous but eat plants. Because … plants are right there.

  Einstein: That sounds more lazy than dumb.

  Richie: When Sloths climb trees, they sometimes think their own limb is a branch and fall to their death.

  Einstein: LMAO! Oh wait, I mean … I shouldn’t laugh at that, right?

  Richie: Turkeys drown by staring up at the sky when it’s raining.

  Einstein: And we have a winner.

  5

  Cohen

  Ah. First practice of the year.

  We’re back again, and damn, it’s good to be on the ice.

  Even if Coach Hogan is driving us all to the point of falling in a heap.

  First day back is always grueling, and I see the doubt in the freshmen’s eyes, like they’re thinking What the hell have I signed up for?

  They’re Beck and Jacobs’s problem this year.

  Who are totally banging.

  I was right. For once. Apparently, I can detect same-sex chemistry between other people, just not from myself.

  Denial is a powerful thing.

  “Penalty drills!” Coach yells, and the new kids groan.

  They thought this would be over by now.

  As old classmates
have graduated and moved on, and new ones start, Coach has to rearrange the lines. We lost Grant last year from our first line, but we still have Jacobs and me. We’re looking for a center to fill Grant’s place, and they’re hard skates to fill.

  I think Simms has a shot at center. So does Rossi. Rossi’s a junior this year, Simms a sophomore, so Rossi should get it, but it all depends on how well they skate leading up to the start of the season.

  Coach is clearly testing them as he puts Rossi with us and Simms on the side that’s a man down. He gives us Martin on defense with Beck.

  Rossi’s good. He’s solid. Simms is less consistent, but that gives him an edge because he fights for it more. He pushes boundaries. He’s great at sneaky penalties which can be good, but terrible if ill-timed.

  Like right now.

  Dude trips Rossi after Rossi’s passed the puck to me.

  The whistle blows. “Really, Simms?” Coach yells. “Now’s not the time for risk. You’re a man down, and you’ve given the other side a three-on-five power play.”

  Simms hisses under his breath.

  “Next line,” Coach yells.

  On the way to the team box, I nudge Simms. “Timing is everything, man.”

  “I know. The second I did it, I knew I’d fucked up.”

  “Stuff like that will cost you first line.”

  When I step into the box, both Jacobs and Beck are looking at me weird, but I shrug it off.

  All the newbs and guys who weren’t here over the summer take this exercise as a chance to catch their breath while there are only half of us on the ice.

  It’s a good first practice, and coming off our win, we’re all pumped for the season, but I can’t wait until we can get out of here and I can check my phone.

  That app is becoming damn addictive, but not for the reasons I thought it would.

  The couple of times I’ve sexted with someone has been fun, for sure, but I don’t feel any connection to those guys. I look forward to one man’s messages only.

  Einstein has something about him that’s not inherently sexual. Our conversations aren’t deep by any means, but they hold more weight than any other interaction I’ve had on ChatUp.

  The rest have been fantasies and exploring things I may or may not want to try in real life in the future.

  Talking with Einstein is fun, and the potential for more with him is there. No one else has come close to that.

  “We’re going to McIntyre’s,” Jacobs says as he hits the showers.

  “I’m out.”

  “Got a date with your hand?” Beck asks.

  “What can I say? It’s the best date I’ve ever had, so …”

  The guys snicker.

  Normally, I’d be all about going out, but even I’m drained after that practice.

  Half of us trudge back to the dorms while the others head off campus. I loved the dorm room I had last year. It was at the end of the hall and away from foot traffic. This year, I’m right by the elevator, so I hear everything.

  Being twenty-four years old and living in dorms wasn’t my first choice, but CU has this weird bylaw that has to do with their athletes. If you’re on a sporting team at this school, you live in one of the jock buildings. End of story. They say dorm life is to create strong bonds within the team, but honestly, I think it’s so we can’t throw massive parties and get into too much trouble.

  I don’t hesitate in stripping down to my boxers and getting into bed. My muscles ache from the workout Coach put us through, and it’s times like these I wish I had a partner to massage all the kinks for me.

  I’m sure I could find a puck bunny to do it, but … effort.

  Seeing as I’ve been into fantasizing so much lately, maybe I can imagine someone doing it and it’ll feel as good as when I picture the no-faced randoms I’ve been messaging going down on me. Although, my hand helps with that.

  Ugh, I can’t reach my back to massage myself.

  There’s a message from a guy I sexted with a few days ago, but I bypass it for Einstein. I want real talk, not sex.

  Although, hello. I have to squint and make sure I tapped on the right name.

  Einstein: What are your thoughts on voyeurism?

  Richie: Mr. I Just Want to Talk is asking about voyeurism?

  Einstein: I am talking. This is not an invitation.

  Damn. Still, interesting topic.

  Richie: Hmm, thoughts on voyeurism. Am I the one watching or am I being watched?

  Einstein: Either.

  I have to think about it.

  Richie: Being watched sounds hot. I wonder if watching would get the same kick as porn? I’d probably be too impatient and want to join in. I answered, now it’s your turn.

  Einstein: I think I’d like to watch.

  Richie: Want to video chat next time I hook up?

  Einstein: …

  Richie: I’m joking.

  Einstein: Are you though?

  Richie: IDK.

  Einstein: It might give me some answers.

  He still hasn’t told me what labels he’s struggling with. I assumed he’s like me and can’t work out where he sits on the straight-to-gay scale, but in this moment, I realize there are a whole lot of other letters under the rainbow.

  Before I can reply, another message comes through.

  Einstein: Have you been hooking up a lot? Guys or girls?

  Even though it’s probably not a jealous question, I’m taking it that way because it does something to my insides thinking he might not like that. We’re not dating, we’re chatting.

  Richie: I’m actually in one of the longest dry spells I’ve ever had.

  Einstein: What, a week?

  Richie: Before summer break. All this questioning stuff happened then, and I don’t know why, but being with a woman right now seems like I’m going backward? That probably sounds stupid.

  Einstein: Not stupid. It would feel like you’re doing what you’ve always done and pretending this side of you doesn’t exist.

  Richie: That’s exactly it.

  This guy seems to understand me better than myself. Or is at least able to explain it better than I can. I do feel I need to be honest with him though.

  Richie: Even though I haven’t hooked up in person, I have been sexting some other guys. Just … you know, putting that out there.

  I hold my breath while he replies, reminding myself that I haven’t done anything wrong.

  Einstein: What’s that like? And before you go there, this still isn’t an invitation.

  Richie: It’s hot, but it doesn’t exactly make me want to run out and meet anyone to do it in person. Is that weird?

  Einstein: If that’s weird, then I’ll probably be seen as even weirder.

  Richie: That sounds cryptic.

  The reply takes forever to come through. I want to know more about him, but I’m not going to push.

  Einstein: The reason I only want to talk. The reason I’m on here at all is because my girlfriend broke up with me because she thinks I’m gay.

  Richie: And have you figured anything out yet?

  Einstein: Yeah. I’ve figured out I’m about as attracted to dicks as I am to pussy … not very much at all.

  Something twists in my gut.

  Einstein: I think I’m on the ace spectrum.

  Ace? What’s that?

  After a quick Google search, I find it. Asexual.

  There’s the reason why my conversations with him have been great but have never led to anything more.

  Richie: You don’t like sex at all? And sorry if this is too forward and comes across as judgmental. I don’t mean it that way at all. I’m curious.

  Einstein: Here’s where things get confusing for me. I can like sex. With some of my previous partners, I’d want it all the time, but with others I haven’t been interested. At all. When I’m not in a relationship, I can go months without even thinking about sex, but certain things turn me on. Like, the idea of voyeurism. I just moved into my apartment, and the walls
are thin. I can hear my neighbors going at it nearly every night, and I kinda like it. And now you probably think I’m creepy.

  Richie: Not creepy. Tell me more.

  Einstein: I’ve had girlfriends in the past where the sex has been explosive. But to get to that level? I’ve had to have an emotional attachment, and they’re hard to come by. Most girls don’t wait around for your dick to get with the program. They always assume there’s something wrong with them or … like my last girlfriend, that guys must turn me on more or something.

  Richie: I have no idea what to say to that because to me that sounds like you’re picky and have standards. But … I’m guessing if it was only that, you wouldn’t be on here questioning everything.

  Einstein: Oh, I’ve made the picky argument with myself for years. At some point, I have to face the facts. I think I definitely am asexual, but to what degree, I’m not sure. There’s gray ace, biromantic, aromantic, and the one I think I could be which is demisexual.

  Googling is my friend.

  Demisexual: Experiences sexual attraction after making a strong emotional connection with a specific person.

  Richie: So, you’re on here hoping to make a connection with someone before meeting them in the hopes you’ll find them sexually attractive?

  Einstein: Hey, I thought you said you were dumb.

  Richie: Sometimes I can get things right.

  Einstein: I’m learning that.

  I stare at his words for a moment, trying to figure out what this all means. Einstein is quickly taking up a huge part of my life through these texts, and I don’t know if what we have is leading toward an actual relationship, but sex is a big deal to me.

  At least, it always has been.

  Things could be different with him, but I guess that’s what this whole dating app experience has been about. Keeping an open mind and working out what I like.

  Richie: If you ever feel comfortable enough to talk sex with me or if you want to use me as an experimental guinea pig like with the voyeurism thing, I’m here.

  As soon as I hit Send, I wince.

  Richie: Okay, that sounded way less ick in my head than it looks in text. I meant you can talk to me about anything without judgment.