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Prologue
My stomach tingles the way it does before I take the ice for a game, as if the pressure is on, though I can’t for the life of me understand why. I’m at a team barbeque for God’s sake, not getting ready to face down an opponent, so there’s no need for me to be on edge, muscles coiled and ready to spring into action.
Glancing around the yard, I try to make sense of what has me feeling jittery, and without conscious effort my eyes land on him. Again. The stranger standing next to Coach’s son.
It makes sense that an unfamiliar face would stand out in a crowd full of my closest friends, but the butterflies that come with it… That I can’t quite reconcile.
If I focus on physique, I can sort of explain the way he piques my attention. After all, I know the work that goes into staying in top shape, and even though this guy is lean and sinewy compared to the bulging muscles my teammates and I have, it’s clear he leads an active lifestyle. Only, it’s not just his physique that has me stealing glances in his direction.
Tall enough to cast a similar shadow as my new teammate Niko, the stranger has blond hair that the dark stubble along his chin suggests isn’t natural. That’s unique in and of itself, but what really draws my eye is the harsh yet ethereal lines of his face. Striking in their simplicity, they come together to create the most enticing image I’ve ever seen. I'm helpless–enthralled–as I commit his features to memory, though I’m not sure why I feel the need to do so.
Objectively, I can tell when a person is good looking, and I recognize that some people have a swagger you can’t help but notice. Usually that’s all it is though. A quick glance to register what you’re seeing and then you move on, never giving the person a second thought. And I did that—once. Then twice. And a third or fourth time. Now, my eyes seem to search for him every time I take them off the beer in my hand.
That’s what I can’t make sense of. That I’m searching for him, based solely on the way he looks since I know nothing of his character.
I catch his Adam’s apple bob from over a dozen feet away, an innocent movement that looks anything but on his intriguing face. And when he laughs or grins with mirth, which he does often, his abs contract in a way that suggests the emotion comes from deep within. No polite gestures with this one—his amusement is genuine. Infectious.
If I didn't know better, I'd think he was a model.
I dated one once, years ago. She had a similar presence, confident yet hypnotic. It was hard not to watch her or be enamored by her, but it turned out to be an act. That confidence was a mask she wore in public, and without it she was almost mousy. Feeble. We didn’t make it past three months.
She’s not representative of all models, of course, but the experience still made me want to avoid models at all costs. Come to think of it, I avoided dating in general after that. It's not her fault. Still, our break up was the catalyst that made me realize I was chasing something I didn’t want.
Dating, relationships, sex… Those things haven’t appealed to me in years. If I wasn’t so focused on my career, I’d probably wonder why that is, but since hockey consumes so much of my time and energy I don't have much left over to worry about life outside the rink. I’m questioning that now though, since my stomach seems to flutter every time my gaze lands on this stranger.
Chapter one
Noah
“You’re really not gonna fill that thing with water?” I wipe sweat from my brow as my teammate and new neighbor, Niko, sets two lounge chairs by the edge of the empty pool.
“And give up this view?” A goofy smile spreads across his face as he watches his boyfriend, Xander, roll shirtless around the giant hole on his skateboard with his friend, Tripp.
“Wouldn’t you get the same view if this pool was filled with water, and he’d be in a bathing suit?”
Niko worries his lip as he chews over my words. “Good point. Maybe I’ll build him another one to cool off in.” He blows out a puff of air and fans his face as I stifle a laugh. He’s so gone for his boyfriend.
Though he’s only been on the team a year, and is about a decade my junior, Niko and I have become close. He’s a phenom on the ice, making even the toughest veterans look like novices, and his work ethic is something to admire. Not only that, he had the balls to come out as gay in his rookie season, which a lot of people thought might tank his career, but it didn't stop him from announcing to the world that he’s dating our coach’s son.
Guys shoot pucks at me for a living, but if I was in his shoes and in my rookie year, I’m not sure I would've been as brave. I’ve always respected hard work on the ice, but after getting to know him and witnessing what he's been through, I respect him more for his courage.
I tap my beer bottle to his with a chuckle, nodding toward the pool where Xander is positively glowing. “I think you won him over.”
“I’m the winner here, Noah. I’m the winner.” Niko pastes a dopey grin on his face like the lovesick fool he is as I stifle another laugh.
Drinks in hand, we settle onto the chairs, and since there's no water to cool off in, we lose our shirts to get a little sun. Niko leans back in his lounger and lets out a contented sigh, and I’m right behind him. Only, mine gets trapped in my throat before I can fully recline. It's like my brain has short-circuited and forgot to tell my lungs to breathe when my eyes catch motion to my left, and I find myself entranced by him. Again.
Since I first saw Tripp at a team barbeque Xander dragged him to last summer, I’ve found myself noticing him more and more. In my defense, it’s hard not to. Standing at six feet, with perfectly mussed bleached-blond hair and dark stubble that’s hard to miss since the contrast is so stark, it’s the mischievous tilt of his lips that really captures my attention. I often find myself wondering what’s going on in his mind, particularly since he’s a professional at giving people the shock-and-awe treatment. His antics amuse me more than they should, even when they involve silly excuses to measure my biceps with his hands.
Between his loud looks and even louder personality, he doesn’t exactly fade into the background, and if I’m being honest, I find his brash nature freeing. I sort of like that he’s become a bit of a regular fixture in our social circle. What’s confusing to me is that it’s not just his personality that catches my attention. His appearance fascinates me, especially now, with him skating around shirtless.
Tall and lean, every muscle is on display, showing off a smattering of tattoos that would otherwise be hidden. They’re kind of mesmerizing to watch as they ripple under his skin. So is the youthful gleam in his eye. It’s not arousing exactly, but it’s something. Something I’ve yet to put a label on, but I only seem to experience it around him. Which might mean sitting here watching him is a bad idea, at least until I sort out some of my confusion.
If only I could look away.
“So, we just sit here and watch them skate while we drink beers?” I suppose it’s not much different than them watching us play hockey, although since I’m not sure whether I’m watching the man or his skill on a board, maybe it is.
“That okay? I love watching Xander skate.” Niko grins sheepishly.
