Face Offs & Cheap Shots (CU Hockey Book 2)

I’m trying really hard to take our rooming situation as a good sign and not a bad omen, because if we break up, that’s going to be a whole world of awkward. Though, I suppose if we break up, we’ll have more than rooms to worry about. Like the team. The Frozen Four.

Which means there’s only one solution: we work on our relationship just as hard as we fuck.

I would say it will be easy, but ever since yesterday, Beck’s been … distant. Not completely, but he was distracted all last night, stayed up late on his laptop, and then came to bed after I was already asleep.

He left my room two hours ago while I was half-asleep. He kissed my head and told me to meet him at our coffee place at eight.

I jog the whole way down to breakfast. He’s waiting at our table by the back wall with our orders already in front of him, and I can’t wait until I can walk right up and kiss him without holding back.

Very, very soon.

“Where’d you run off to this morning?”

He doesn’t answer me. “It’s about time,” Beck says and kicks out the chair opposite him.

“We agreed on eight. It’s ten to.”

He shrugs. “Still too late in my opinion.”

“And yours is the only one that counts.”

“See? You’re learning.”

I shake my head and dig in. It still hasn’t hit me that this is our last year at Colchester. The usual return to school anxiousness has kicked in as I think of the overwhelming amount of coursework. With hockey and the championships on top of that, it’s going to absolutely fly.

And maybe I should be worried that I’ll graduate this year and possibly say goodbye to Beck. Especially if he has to move to New York and take over his dad’s company, but I take comfort in the knowledge that we’re both stubborn shitheads, and if we want to find a way to stay together, we will.

“Beck, man, how are you?” Henrikson says, approaching our table. He’s one of our junior defensemen and part of Beck’s usual circle. I don’t miss the confused look he throws me before he does a weird up-nod. “Jacobs.”

“Henrikson.”

Beck stands and pulls him into a one-armed hug. “I’m great, how are you?”

Henrikson pulls a face. “Only good thing about the first day back is hearing all the crazy shit you got up to over break.”

“Sorry to disappoint, I barely even left the state this year.”

“What? What happened to Greece?”

Greece?

Beck shrugs. “Something better came up.”

“Better than Greece?” I cut in, my smile getting wider. “I knew you never planned summer camp. It was to piss me off, wasn’t it?”

The cocky bastard winks at me. “Seemed to work out pretty well though.”

“No complaints from me.”

Henrikson points at Beck, then swings his finger to me. “What’s happening here?”

“What do you mean?” Beck asks, and I try not to laugh at how he’s obviously having fun at Henrikson’s expense.

“You guys aren’t like this. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a nice word to each other, and now here you are … having breakfast.”

“It’s been a long summer.”

“An enlightening summer,” Beck adds.

“Right.” He’s clearly confused, and he’s not the only one. Anyone who follows the mountain lions knows we can’t stand each other. Maybe it would be fun to mess with people for a bit.

But then I remember that means hands off, and the idea dies quickly.

Henrikson says he’ll see us at the team meeting later tonight, and we wave him off.

“Damn, I just realized I won’t see you again until then too,” I say around a mouthful of my breakfast burrito.

“Eight solid Beck-less hours. The horror.”

I kick his shoe. “I’ve gotten used to you being around.”

“Yeah … you too.” He screws up his face. “Who are we?”

“Topher and Teddy.”

“I’m so embarrassed by you.” Beck shakes his head and turns back to his food.

It takes herculean self-control to sit with him and behave myself.

We walk too close together as we leave the café, and when we pass the convenience store, Beck glances around and pulls me into a not-at-all secluded alley.

“Quick, kiss me.”

I smile as I press a kiss to his lips, linger, then pull back.

“More.”

I laugh. “It’s only, what did you say? Eight Jacobs-less hours. Then we can kiss whenever you want.”

“Fuck yes.”

He goes to leave, but I quickly grab his hand. “Hey, I know they’re gonna vote for you tonight, and I want to get it out there that I’m okay with it.”

“You’re okay with it?” He doesn’t look like he believes me for a second.

“Okay, so yes it’s disappointing because I’ve been aiming for it for years, but the thing is … you deserve this. So much. I’ll be proud to follow you this year.”

Beck hangs his head. “You’re not allowed to say shit like that when I can’t jump you.”

“You can show me how much you appreciate it tonight.”

“After the meeting.”

I groan. “We could skip it? It’s not like anything important is happening.”

I follow Beck from the alley, and he backhands my abs. “Nothing important? Excuse me, we have a captain to crown.”

“Captains don’t wear crowns.”

“Now you tell me. Guess I should return that tiara, then.”

“Not before I get photo evidence.”

We part ways to go to class, and I take a moment to check him out as he walks away. His broad shoulders, narrow waist, and that ass I couldn’t help noticing even when I hated him are even hotter when paired with this warmth in my chest.

And when I think about telling the team, I’m actually excited about it.

Because I’ll have Beck, and anyone with an issue can go fuck themselves.

I head back to my dorm to shower and change before I make my way to the meeting. Beck’s not in his room, so I assume he’s already headed over, and sure enough when I walk in, he’s there, saving a seat for me.

Yep. My boyfriend’s cute. And still in high school apparently.

“Nervous, Jacobs?” Cohen asks as soon as I sit down.

“Nah. I have a feeling things will go exactly the way they’re supposed to.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Beck says.

Cohen narrows his eyes and looks between us. “Riiight.”

Somehow, I hold in my laugh. There’s a lot of attention on us—because of the vote, because we’re sitting together, who knows?—so I lean closer and drop my voice. “Nervous?”

“About the vote? Nah, I know how this goes.”

“I’m glad you’re confident.” I can’t even tease him for it. “But no. You know what I’m asking.”

“Why would I be nervous about that? It’s no big deal. It’s nothing special—we’re just two dudes who are dating. There’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“So … you’re terrified, then?”

“Quietly shitting myself, yes.”

I laugh and wish I could give his thigh a reassuring squeeze, but I manage to keep it together. It’ll only be a few more minutes, and then I can do whatever the fuck I like.

I dunno how it’s possible to be dreading and anticipating something so much.

The vote isn’t even on my radar, because like Beck, I know how it goes. I want this to be over with. I want to tell people and let them get their reactions out of the way so we can be Beck-and-Jacobs without input from anyone else.

Motherfucker, I think my hands are actually shaking. I want to laugh, at myself, at Beck, at this whole situation because it’s so dramatic and ridiculous and why the hell didn’t we just walk around for the day holding hands so the news would spread and it would be out there? That would have been the simple option.

Instead I’m sitting here, afraid of … what?

A laugh jumps out, and I quickly run a hand down my face to stifle it. Beck shoots me a look, and I’m about to tell him how dumb this all is, when Coach walks in.

The whole mood of the room changes.

“Vote time!” Cohen says, rubbing his hands together.

Coach chuckles. “Sorry, team. There’s been a little change of plans.”

Umm, what?

I go to exchange confused looks with Beck, but he’s still staring at Coach Hogan. Surely, surely they’re not going to take it from us after how hard we worked this summer.

“So … what’s going on?” I finally ask.

Coach smiles. Then he lifts a navy-and-silver jersey and throws it my way. I catch it purely on reflex, and when I look down, I’m sure there must be some mistake.

A giant silver C stares back at me.

“Wha—”

“Team, Jacobs is our new captain.”

“But—”

Coach holds up a second jersey and tosses it to Beck. “And this year, we have an alternate. Congratulations, boys. You worked hard for this.”

I’m still completely numb as I quickly turn to Beck, sure he’s going to be as stunned as I am. Instead, he’s smiling.

Smiling.

“What did you do?”

Beck smirks as he takes the jersey from my loose grip and tugs it over my head. “I made sure things went the way they were supposed to.”

I dumbly shove my arms through the sleeves as Beck tugs on his own, lit up like he’s the one who was named captain.

But I get it.

Because up until a minute ago, I’d been perfectly happy not to have the C if it meant he’d be wearing it. A few months ago, I never would have believed it. A few months ago, it was captain or bust.

Now, none of it matters without him because his happiness is more important than mine.

And apparently, it goes both ways.

That gross, sappy feeling returns, and I can finally pinpoint exactly what it is.

I’m in love with my Teddy Beckett.

I stand up and tug him to his feet. Before I know what I’m doing, I kiss him. It’s soft and tentative, but then I cup his face and put as much passion into it as I can, without going overboard. My heart is in my throat, and I’m overly conscious of how silent everyone has gone around us.

Beck breaks the kiss and pulls me into a tight hug. “You could have given a guy some warning,” he tries to joke, but his voice is all thick.

“Like you can talk.”

“I fucking knew it!”

I miss whose voice it is, but before I can turn, someone slams into my back. I immediately brace for a fight, but then … arms close around us. And another set from Beck’s side. Then another, and another.

Are … are they hugging us?

“The fuck?” I breathe.

Beck turns his face into my neck as I feel the ghost of a laugh against my skin. “This is—”

“Ridiculous?”

He nods, but neither of us make a move to end it.

“Okay, assholes, sucking up to the captains isn’t going to get you out of a nasty practice next week,” Beck says.

“And I don’t share, so get your hands off my man.”

Someone laughs, and then Rossi yanks me into a headlock and ruffles my hair. “This is taking gay chicken a bit far, guys.”

Beck shrugs. “You set me a challenge, I’m going to follow through.”

“All right,” Coach says, finally stepping in. “That’s enough excitement for one meeting. We have work to do.”

I shove Rossi off me, and Cohen pats my shoulder while the few other guys who joined the group hug take their seats again.

And even though I can feel the stares of some of the guys who might not approve, it doesn’t do anything to dim my happiness.

Beck reaches over and takes my hand as Coach walks us through game tape from last season, and I’m even more keen for this season to begin than any other.

Because Beck and I have got this.

We’re a team.

And we’re going to prove we’re unbeatable.