Page 11 of Skating to Him

With a scoff, I said, “I’m calling bullshit on that, Cummings.” The guy would know by now if he were queer. He had a gay friend back home, for fuck’s sake. Patting Myles on the knee, I stood. “I’ve got studying to do. What’s Ace making for dinner?” I glanced toward the kitchen sink.

“I saw chicken thawing.” Myles studied me. “You don’t want to admit that something might be going on because you like him too.”

“Myles, don’t put that shit in my head. He’s a damn good-looking guy, but you know I won’t mess with another curious straight dude.” No fucking way. I strode to my backpack and unzipped it.

“Tyler, just because Cory kept your relationship a secret and dumped you doesn’t mean Rowan would do the same. We’re not in high school anymore.” Raking his fingers through his blond hair, he blew out a breath. “He has a gay friend, right? He wouldn’t pull that shit.”

I pushed my lips together, my chest stinging. It still hurt to think about how fucking stupid I’d been. “Yeah, not going there,” I said, yanking my laptop out of my bag. I did notlikeRowan. Ilustedafter him. There was a difference. “By the way, he’s coming over here to study on Wednesday night. Don’t say a word about this conversation.”

I set my laptop on the dinette. I didn’t even know what class I wanted to study for first. I tapped my finger against my mouth, my gaze darting between my laptop and bag.

“Don’t worry. My lips are sealed.” Myles snatched his book from the coffee table. “I’ll be here when you need me.”

The stiffness in my chest released. “Yeah, I know you will, buddy.” Stepping to him, I ruffled his hair. “But in this case, I won’t need you because nothing is going to happen.”

At Tuesday morning’s skate,Coach had us working on blue-line shuffles, with me passing to Mackenzie. I took off toward the lineup of pucks, skating fast, and stopped on my edges, pushing my puck around the two resting on the ice before shooting it at Mackenzie.

Mackenzie threw his stick to the ice, but the puck flewbetween his legs and into the offensive line working on their own drill. “Shit.”

“Mackenzie, what the hell is wrong with you?” Coach Hammett cupped his mouth and yelled, skating toward us. “Keep your eye on the puck.”

“I know, sorry.” With a huff, he fixated on me. “Go again, Hodge.”

“Yeah, sure.” I needed another fucking puck. I looked at Coach, and he slid a new puck to me. What the hell was wrong with Mackenzie? He never missed a pass in these drills. “You, uh, didn’t get your coffee this morning?” I chuckled and skated to the board to start over.

Mackenzie glided toward me. “I got my coffee. Don’t you worry about me. Won’t happen again.” He bent his knees, preparing for takeoff.

As I tapped my stick on either side of the puck, I waited a moment, then sped away, pushing the puck around the others before slapping it at Mackenzie.

He pushed his stick across the ice, barely making the puck, and it flew off at an angle.

“Dude, nice pass.” With a snicker, I straightened and held up my gloved hand. “I’m over here.”

“I know where you are. Got something in my eye.” He snatched his glove off, lifted his helmet, and swiped at his eye.

“Good God, Mackenzie. What now?” Coach held his arms out and dropped them.

“He’s got an eye booger.” With a sharp laugh, I skated to the lost puck and grabbed it with my stick. Might as well mess with him now. He wasn’t getting away with two fuckups on an easy-as-hell drill we’d been doing since grade school.

“It’s not a booger.” Shaking his head, he headed back to the board.

“Okay, so you were crying because you can’t shoot today?” I burst out a laugh. Let’s see what he had for a comeback.

“Okay, Hodge.” He tilted his head this way and that andskated toward me. “Are you trying to put me off my game?” A smirk played over his lips and his eyes twinkled. “That’s not nice to do to your new partner.” His eyes grew wide. “I mean, you know what I mean.” His cheeks flushed.

What the hell was wrong with him? “You gotta do better than what I just saw to be my partner.” I wagged my brows at him and worked the puck between my blade. “Do you have what it takes?” I focused on him.

“What the hell are you two babbling about? Get out there and practice.” Coach scoffed. “I swear to God, sometimes I wished I’d picked another sport.” With a smirk, his gaze flicked between us. “Where the players aren’t constantly chirping or playing pranks on each other.”

“Ah, come on, Coach. Where’s the fun in that?” Mackenzie gave him a charming smile. “You love us, and you know it.”

“Yeah, get the hell out there.” He pointed at the line of pucks.

“Go!” I took off for the first two pucks, shuffled around them, and passed to Mackenzie.

With a quick flick of his stick, Mackenzie shot the puck back.

I hit the next set of pucks, getting into a rhythm with Mackenzie, back and forth and round and round. Whatever that had been in the beginning, we were in perfect sync now.

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