So instead, I grabbed my taped stick, stood up, and walked out to the rink to do exactly what Karter asked.
Chapter 15 - Karter
Most guys would at least first ask what you were doing on a Friday night.
Aleksey just texted me and dropped a location pin an hour off campus with a single instruction:8 pm. Bring your skates.
It was Friday night. The team had the weekend off before finals week. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I stared at my phone screen. Over the past few days, we had kept our distance at the rink. Aleksey barely looked at me. And now, out of nowhere, later tonight, he wanted me to drive an hour out of town.
I checked his follow-up message:Sick of these thin attic walls. We need to finish what we started.
He had a point. Our study sessions lately consisted of locking the door, getting half undressed, and holding our breath every time Matt shifted on his side of the room.
I knew exactly what finishing meant. Or at least, what I wanted it to mean. We had never gone all the way, but I had spent the last few weeks thinking about it constantly.
So, sitting on the edge of my bed, I opened my phone browser and did what any clueless guy would do. I searched how to bottom. Scrolling through anonymous forums felt a bit awkward, but my nerves were totally overshadowed by how badly I wanted this.
Thirty minutes later, I grabbed my shower caddy, and locked myself in the communal bathroom for the next forty-five minutes to prep and clean myself out. I wanted to be ready for Aleksey. Only then did I put on my winter coat and grab my keys.
I pushed through the dorm’s thick front door. The freezing night air hit my face like a wall. I shoved my hands deep into my coat pockets as I kept my head down, trudging across the snow-packed campus toward the legacy frat house parking lot. I hit the unlock button on my fob when I reached the back corner. The headlights flashed over the dark SUV.
The thing mostly just sat here gathering snow. I hardly ever drove it, but tonight I needed it.
Twenty minutes later, my car heater blasted hot air against my shins. Gripping the leather steering wheel, I watched the snowy, unlit roads stretch out past the headlights.
All week I played my part. I nodded along to Coach Corby’s lectures, kept my head down in the locker room, and smiled whenever Trenton made one of his jokes. It was always easier to just agree and keep the peace.
But out here in the dark, I pressed my foot harder on the gas. If my brother or anyone else caught me sneaking off to meet Aleksey, it would blow the team apart. It would screw up the locker room dynamics and probably scare off the scouts. Turner had told Aleksey they would dig into everything. One wrong photograph, one teammate talking, and the offer vanished.
My fingers squeezed the leather wheel.
The tires crunched loud and crisp on the plowed asphalt as I pulled onto the shoulder. I shifted into park and let the engine idle.
A frozen lake spread out for miles. There was nothing around but empty wilderness and stars. A single battery-powered lantern sat on the ice, casting a yellow circle in the dark.
Standing by the edge of the ice, Aleksey waited with a pair of skates slung over his shoulder. He wore that same faded wintercoat that was two sizes too big, his hands shoved deep into the pockets. The lantern light threw shadows over his face, making his deep-set eyes look black as they tracked my car pulling in.
He stood perfectly still in the freezing wind, watching me with that quiet, guarded focus he carried everywhere.
I stepped out of the heated SUV. The winter wind whipped at my cheeks, and I watched my breath fog in the freezing air.
“How did you get out here?” I asked, walking over to him. I knew he didn’t own a car.
He gave an unapologetic shrug. “I caught the county bus.”
“The bus doesn’t come out this far. Does it?”
“It goes to the highway turnoff.”
I looked back at the main road, then back at him. “That’s over a mile away.”
“So,” he shrugged, “I walked.” He brushed some stray snow off his jacket sleeve. His lips and cheeks were raw and red from the biting wind.
I knew how Aleksey operated. He saved his cash and never wasted energy. The fact that he dealt with crappy regional transit and hiked through the snow just to get us alone threw me for a second.
I stared at him. “You rode a bus and walked a mile in the dark.”
“Not a big deal,” Aleksey muttered. He looked away, tracking a spot out on the ice.
