Page 81 of Line Change

“Fraser.”

“Yeah.” I straighten and push back into position. “I’m good.”

Gunderson is waiting to restart the drill, so Ben stays quiet. His eyes go over my legs and stop on the shoulder Nara taped.

His concern makes the boyfriend thought worse.

I give him a small shake of my head. He faces the puck again.

This is a terrible time to learn something about myself.

It’s not that I don’t date. I date. I’ve had relationships that lasted long enough to leave clothes at somebody’s place and short ones that ended before either of us learned how the other took his coffee. What I don’t do is get involved with teammates.

Teammates are there every morning. They know when you’re playing hurt or in a bad mood, and Bobby usually knows who went home with whom before the rest of us arrive. If it ends badly, I still have to dress beside the guy and sit near him on every road trip.

That rule was supposed to keep my life simple.

I’ve been involved with Ben for close to two months.

We keep staying together after the sex, eating dinner and watching games until one of us falls asleep. We talk every day, and a few nights ago we agreed neither of us would touch anybody else.

We’re basically dating.

Ben would probably leave the room if I said that out loud. The sex isn’t what has me losing my balance at practice, either. Two nights without it would be annoying, but I miss sitting with him and getting the full version of whatever he’s thinking instead of four words on a screen.

Gunderson drops the puck for the next repetition. I get my feet moving before anyone has to yell at me again, take Ben’s pass cleanly this time, and shoot from the top of the circle. The puck catches the inside of the post and goes in.

Ben collects the puck from the net and sends it back to the pile. On his way past, he taps the blade of his stick against my shin pad. It’s the same thing he does when I finish a chance he started, and I hate how much better it makes me feel.

The next drill has us battling along the wall. That helps. It’s hard to think about getting a teammate to call me his boyfriend while a defenseman has my shoulder pinned to the glass and Bobby is yelling that he’s open when he isn’t. I work the puck loose, kick it behind my skate, and hear Ben call my name from the middle.

The pass reaches him through two sets of skates. He puts it under the goalie’s blocker before the defense can turn.

For the rest of practice, I keep my mind on the puck whenever Ben is close enough to notice.

By the time I get back to my stall, I’ve shoved the boyfriend problem far enough down that I can shower and get dressed without staring at Ben. He takes longer than usual talking to one of the coaches near the door, which gives me time to pull on jeans and a sweatshirt and decide what I’m going to do.

He comes back while I’m tying my shoes and drops onto the bench at his stall. Sweat has dried in his hair after the shower, and the collar of his shirt is folded under on one side. He looks exactly like himself instead of somebody who has spent two days planning how to get rid of me.

“You lose an edge?” he asks.

I tug the second knot tight. “Caught a rut.”

His gaze drops to my shoulder again. “Tape okay?”

“It’s fine.”

Ben nods and reaches for his jacket. He can check whether my shoulder hurts with half the room listening. He still won’t tell me why he hasn’t wanted me around.

I’m going to talk to him, although the boyfriend part may never leave my head again.

I only need to ask why he’s been acting weird and get us back onto normal ground. The last two nights may have had nothing to do with me. Maybe I’m being a drama queen because the man didn’t invite me over for forty-eight hours.

I leave the locker room, turn the corner toward the players’ entrance, and see Ben hugging a guy.

Not a teammate hug. Nobody has scored, there are no helmets between them, and Ben isn’t using one arm while he tries to escape with the rest of his body. Both arms are wrapped around a slim guy in a fitted black coat, holding him close in the middle of the hall where Bobby, Sindre, and anybody else leaving the room can see.

The guy is young and very cute, with dark hair that looks deliberately messy and one small silver hoop in his ear.