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Chapter 1
Chase
Watching him move gracefully across the ice as if he is a part of it has my dick rock hard. The way his body glides across the rink keeps me fixated on him—never wanting to look away. He looks at peace, one with himself and the world, and nothing weighs on him. God, I wish I felt the same way. Thank heavens for the wall around the ice rink I’m leaning against, blocking the growing bulge in my pants, or everyone would know what he does to me.
I know how much he loves these quiet moments when he can just skate freely, no longer confined to a net, protecting it from the opposition's shot, and the bulky uniform he’s required to wear. I've always told him he’s in the wrong sport and should be an ice skater with his graceful movements. His response is always a laugh as he shrugs me off, reminding me how much he loves hockey, especially playing for Battle Creek University and being a Berzerker.
“You should tell him how you feel, man,” comes from behind me, a voice that sounds so eerily like mine. You would think after twenty-one years I’d be used to it, but it still catches me off guard.
“I can’t, Carter. What if he doesn’t feel the same, and it ruins our friendship? I know what you’re about to say, and I don’t want to hear one fucking word from you about how I sound like a pussy saying it.” I turn, cutting my eyes toward him.
“Look, bro, he officially came out as being bi two years ago. So we know he likes both men and women, the same as you. Hell, I’ve seen the lingering looks when he thinks you aren’t paying attention, so I know he’s interested. What will it hurt to just give it a shot and see if something happens? The worst thing that could happen is you find out you aren’t attracted to each other. No harm, no foul,” Carter tells me as he puts his arm over my shoulder and leans against the railing of the ice rink beside me.
“That’s all well and good, but what if I tell him how I feel and he likes me as well and we give it a shot, and it ends badly—ruining our thirteen-year friendship? What about the two of you? How will it affect y'all’s friendship? I don’t think I can do it, Carter.” I let my head drop to rest on my hands that are crossed across the top of the wall, my eyes staring down at my feet as if they’re the most intriguing thing I’ve ever seen.
“It’s okay bro, you need to do something, though. This is killing you. We have Christmas break at that ski lodge the coach told us about. Hopefully, you can figure something out there. We’ll be away from the school, and you and Blake will have a chance to be alone together. Hell, maybe he’ll broach the topic. Just know you're my brother, my twin, and you being in my life is more important than any man.”
I halt our conversation as we hear Blake approaching, calling out to us, “Well, if it isn’t the Olsen twins.” His lame-ass attempt at humor, since our last name is, in fact, Olsen.
“Hey man, are you packed yet or are you gonna be throwing shit in a bag at the last minute, like normal?” Carter jokes as he gives him a fist bump.
Blake pulls off his helmet and I can feel the heat rush straight to my cock and my face. When he shakes his damp hair soaked with sweat, I feel like I’m in my very own eighties teen heartthrob movie and he’s moving in slow motion.
“Dude, are you really asking me that? You know damn well I’ll be cramming shit in a bag last minute. Shit, speaking of time, when are we going to be leaving for the airport? I'd hate to miss the flight and have to drive ten hours to get there,” Blake asks as he steps off the ice onto the carpet, his helmet in hand. He makes his way over to the bench and sits down to take off his skates. His shaggy, jet black hair falls into his face as he bends over. He’s still in his padding so it’s hard to see his body, but I know it's muscular from pining after him all these years.
“Plane takes off at eight A.M. so we need to be there by seven at the latest. Preferably six—they want us to check in two hours before takeoff. We’ll be at your room to get you no later than five forty-five. Knowing how your ass is, we’ll probably have to help you kick out whatever flavor of the night’s in your bed and throw shit in your bag along with you,” I tell him as I turn and lean my back against the wall, trying not to get caught watching him. Just thinking of him with someone else has my stomach churning.
“Dude, whatever, I’m saving my dick for all the fresh ass at this resort. I’m tired of the same old thing around here,” he says as he stands up from the bench. “Give me ten minutes to get changed, and I’ll be ready to go.” He starts pulling his jersey and pads off, and fuck me—his pronounced pecs are shining with a sheen of sweat, causing the silver on his nipple piercings to shimmer. Holding everything in one hand, he picks up his skates with the other and heads off toward the locker room.
“Bro, you need to wipe your mouth. You got a little drool there at the corner.” My brother laughs before taking off, running toward the front doors of the rink. The worst thing is the asshole’s right. I really need to get my hormones under control around Blake.
I bend over, using the moment to take a deep calming breath as I pick up my duffel bag with my skates and gear from the floor, and make my way to the exit. Heading out into the cool night, I meet up with Carter at our truck. I toss my bag into the bed and walk around to the passenger side, climbing in. Carter has the heat turned on full blast and its barely touched the chill inside the truck.
“Chase, I won’t harp on it anymore, but please think about telling him how you feel. I’m tired of watching you pine over a guy you don’t even have the guts to tell how you feel. Plus, he’s a fool if he doesn’t see what a catch you are. Hell, we’re mirror images, and I know my ass is,” he says, trying to keep a straight face but failing.
“Yeah, yeah. Can we drop it, please? He'll be out in a minute, and I still need to do some last-minute packing before we leave in the morning. We need to really send Coach some kind of thank you for helping us secure a cabin at the lodge.”
Glancing up at the door as I reach up to put my seat belt on, I see Blake exit the building, taking large strides as he makes his way over to the truck. He tosses his own bag into the bed before opening the passenger door behind me and climbing inside.
“Fuck, it’s colder than a witch’s titty out there,” he says as he blows air into his clasped hands to warm them up, his hair pulled up in a bun on the top of his head. It’s just barely long enough to fit in one, so it’s not really a bun—he claims it is, though. And who am I to correct the man I’ve been pining over.
Carter puts the truck in gear and pulls out of the parking lot, just as Blake speaks up, “Man, I’m hungry. Can we hit a drive-thru on the way home?”
“When aren’t you hungry is more like it. But yes, we can. You’re just lucky I’m hungry too,” Carter jokes back.
Beep…Beep…Beep...
“Would someone please shut off that incessant beeping,” I yell out as if there was someone else in the room. It finally dawns on my sleep-addled brain that it's my phone alarm. Just as I’m reaching over to my nightstand to turn it off, my door flies open with a panicked Carter standing in it.
“Get up, man, we’re fucking late!” he shouts.
“Bro, chill. My alarm just went off, so there’s no way we overslept.”
“Are you sure, genius? Hurry the fuck up and check the time yourself,” he says sarcastically, moving his hands in a hurry the fuck-up gesture.
Picking up my phone, I focus my eyes, so I can see, and sure as hell, it’s twenty minutes past the time I had it set to wake me up. Was I subconsciously hitting the snooze button the whole time?
“Fuck!! I must’ve hit snooze.” I jump up out of bed and hastily start pulling on the pants I had slung over my desk chair. I wore them yesterday, but hell, we’re just going to be on a plane, not like I’m heading on a date with the woman or man of my dreams. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it and pull out the knots. I’d planned to get it trimmed before we left but never made the time, so it’s longer than the typical clean cut I prefer to keep.
