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Dean sets me down on the bathroom floor to turn on the shower. He checks the temperature with his hand.
Once Dean’s hands slide onto my hips and his tongue into my mouth, I forget about all the questions running through my head. They no longer are significant enough for me to care. Getting lost in this moment with Dean is all that matters.
Chapter 7
Senior Year
Dean
We have this game in the bag. When my team stepped onto the ice today, there was never a doubt in my mind.
Maintaining possession of the puck for the last few seconds of the game, I move left and past my opponent, switching to my weak side. My teammates bang their sticks against the players bench, the sounds echoing from a distance. A beat passes where I freeze-frame my surroundings, taking a mental picture so that I can relive this victory forever.
Ten, nine, eight seconds.
I dodge the man to my right and pass the puck to Theo to take the shot. He makes it in time, the goal horn blaring as the game ends. Once again, the Strickland Senators are the NCAA Division I men’s ice hockey champions. All year, my team prepares for the Frozen Four, and for the last three years, we have earned the bragging rights that come with sweeping everyone in the league.
I skate over to my teammates to celebrate another title. Slapping them on the back, I pull each player into a hug and take in this moment.
With less than one month before I graduate from Strickland University, this is my last year as team captain and one step closer to going pro. The NHL draft is a few months away. A few scouts were in the stands for my performance today. After another killer season, they should make some room for me on their rosters.
I take turns congratulating each player on my team, saving Tucker and Theo for last. We couldn’t have won several years in a row without their talent.
Tucker clamps his hand on my shoulder, while Theo greets me on the other side with a slap on my helmet.
“We did it, bro. Another championship.” Theo flashes a smile at me and wipes the sweat dripping off his forehead with the back of his hand.
“That shot off the post will go down in the record books for one of the sickest in NCAA history,” Tucker adds.
I shake my head, laughing. “I doubt that. Watch me do something like that in the NHL and then maybe people will talk about it.”
“Stop being so modest. You’re a shoe-in for the Draft,” Tucker says, releasing me from his grip. “Dad even mentioned you last week.”
His comment catches my attention. Now that their father, Nick Baldwin, is a commentator for the NHL Network, he has more of an inside scoop than when he was a player. Tucker’s words bring a goofy smile to my lips. Hoping you have a shot at the NHL is one thing but having Nick confirm those beliefs is another. And hearing news like this on a day like today makes it even sweeter.
“Nice,” I say, nonchalant, even though I am beaming on the inside.
After growing up the way I did, I need a break. And so does my mom. She could use the signing bonus right about now. The tuition at Strickland University is on par with most prestigious schools but slightly cheaper than Ivy League. Even with my hockey and academic scholarships, it is not cheap to stay in Philadelphia. Soon, I hope to have enough money that my mom can stop working, and we never have to deal with another bill collector again.
The other team gathers at center ice, forming a line to slap our hands and my guys follow suit. I nod in the direction of the players, and Tucker and Theo are at my sides, as we skate over to congratulate our opponents on a game well played. While I knew we would win, there were a few plays made by the other team that had me doubting a three-peat. But only for a split second.
It’s hard enough to win a championship once, let alone three years in a row. The last time this team strung that many victories together was when Nick Baldwin was the captain. Coach Bryant was even here back then.
After I smack the last player’s hand, I skate over to the bench where I find Kat waiting for me. Kat pushes her blonde hair behind her ears and walks toward me, reaching up to wrap her arms around my neck.
She kisses my cheek. “You did it, Dean. Congratulations! I am so proud of you. You were unbelievable today.”
I strip the gloves from my hand and drop them onto the ice so that I can stroke her jaw with my thumb. “Thanks, Kitten. I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on in the stands.”
Kat slides her hands down my arms, takes a step back from me, and pins me down with her bright blue eyes that pop against her pale skin. “I was sending you positive vibes the entire game.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Well, I felt them.”
Kat has been my rock for years. Whenever doubt creeps into my mind, Kat kicks its ass. If I want to run through a few skating drills before a big game, Kat meets me at the rink. The same goes for me. I would do anything for Kat. She is my only weakness.
But I still have a problem. My love for her has only multiplied over the years. She acts as though causal sex between us on occasion is normal when I want all of her. I want her to be my girl. But we are parting ways soon. With college almost over, Kat will go back to Chicago to work, and I’ll move to whatever city I play hockey.
“Dad wants to take everyone out for dinner tonight. Wanna come with us?”
