Chapter 1 -The Party

Nate

I zip through the rink, the timer on the score board just seconds from full time.

The cheers of the audience are loud in my ears as the defenseman from Harlow University swings into my face.

I swivel, barely missing him, and shoot the puck. The goalie snaps his knees together, but not before the puck slides right through and into the net.

Immediately, the clock ticks to full time.

The crowd erupts in a roar. Cam smashes into me, knocking his helmet against mine with a smile gracing his face behind the small bars.

My heart thunders with joy as my team huddles around me, cheering and chanting.

"Northwood Wolves! Northwood Wolves! Northwood Wolves!"

The best way to start the season. With a win.

We file out, adrenaline still pumping through my blood and hanging in the air.

"Who's my bitch?" Elias bellows in the locker room as he slaps my bare shoulders.

Gosh, this idiot.

"I know he isn't," Cam replies from the other side of the locker room, walking toward us.

"Hey, put your dick away." I scrunch my face at his dangling dick.

Almost all of us are naked. I've gotten used to it. I no longer sweat and try to stop myself from getting a hard-on. At this point, these punks can't even make me hard.

Cam laughs and wiggles his dick. "You want some?" He continues to wiggle it, edging closer to me.

"I'm gonna bite it off. That's what."

The only person who knows I'm gay is Elias, and thank God he steps in.

"No one wants to see your weeny, Cam." Elias turns Cam by the shoulders and pushes him into the bathroom.

"Hey, let's go to Barney's," Dylan echoes through the locker room.

"Yeah!" we all chorus, and one by one, we file into the bathroom.

~

Music filters through the speakers, fast but low.

We all slam our fake IDs on the counter and head to the seats.

No one really likes to sit there, mostly because we've desecrated the couches with booze, drugs, and, I suspect, even spunk. I mean, I would never, but you never know with these boys.

Within a few minutes, puck bunnies arrive in their colors, twirling their hair ribbons and twisting their waists in our faces. My teammates take their fill, pulling the girls onto their laps.

"Great game, Nate." Cherry, the blonde-haired girl, twirls her hair around her forefinger as she edges toward me.

"You must be so tired." Her tiny voice almost squeals in my ear as she settles herself on my lap. It takes everything not to cringe from her touch.

"I can make all that stress go away." Now her fingers are caressing my neck.

"Uh-huh." I nod mindlessly and take a full gulp from my bottle of beer.

Too bad they don't serve hardcore stuff here.

Cherry continues to drone on mindlessly about how awesome I am, continuously grinding her ass against my dick.

Is she trying to get me fucking hard?

I push her away, and she stalks off.

"What's wrong, Nate?" She furrows her brows and caresses my cheek.

"Just tired." I force a fake expression. The last thing I need is her asking why I'm not getting hard despite her efforts.

And I absolutely don't need anyone doubting my sexuality.

Once in a while, I take one of the puck bunnies as a girlfriend and make out with her during a party to keep up appearances. It's usually horrible and bland. The only time I feel anything is when I'm pumping myself into some tight ass and watching him stroke his cock.

The noise in the bar is palpable. Some of my teammates even take some girls to the bathroom.

The girls squeal as they down as many shots as possible, the guys encouraging them.

I myself have taken enough shots to get my head spinning.

I feel fucking sick.

Raking my eyes across the bar, they land on a guy across the room, leaning on the counter.

Since I can't literally just go to anyone and ask if they're gay — news flash, I don't have a death wish, I have trained myself to spot someone like me from miles away based on their body language alone.

The guy's hazel eyes are a bit glassy and distant under the dim lights of the bar.

His brown hair is tousled, and he smiles lightly as he talks with the bartender. His waist sways as he turns, and my eyes snag on the belt of his trousers, hanging slightly below his waist. Then my eyes trace the curve of his ass.

Damn, that looks sexy. Yup, definitely gay.

I size him up, practically eye-fucking him. My gaze finally lands on his eyes, a dark shade unlike mine that's a fucking beam in the dark.

He rakes his eyes over my body as well and takes a large gulp of his beer, licking his lips slowly.

Swallowing hard, I shove Cherry out of the way and walk to the bar, leaning on it, my self-control slipping from my grip.

"Hey," I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as I glance at him.

"Hey." He smiles at me, showing his upper teeth and perfect dentition. His eyes immediately snag on my lips before pulling back to my eyes.

Damn, he's so handsome.

"New around town? You look like a new face."

"Yeah, actually I am." He nods and takes his beer from the counter. I watch hungrily as a drop of the liquid rolls down his throat and over his Adam's apple.

"You've been here long, I guess. What's the name?" He puts the bottle down and stares straight at me, his brown eyes glinting.

"Yeah, I have."

I ignore his question asking for my name.

His cheeks flush as he looks over my shoulder and spots the team gallivanting around with the girls, causing ninety percent of the noise in the room.

The manager got tired of chasing us away, so he kinda has to put up with us. We bring in a lot of cash.

"Here with friends?"

"They're not as important as this discussion." I shrug, ordering another bottle of beer. I wouldn't be drinking this much if I didn't want to be drunk enough to abandon all my inhibitions and fuck this guy, and if I didn't know I'd be able to work the alcohol out of my system in no time.

"So what are you here for?" He leans on the counter, facing me, and his wet lips look so fucking kissable. I'm sure he's new to this side of town. I mean, I'm not a man whore, but there's no way I wouldn't have noticed someone as handsome as him.

"Celebrating," I answer absentmindedly, staring at his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows the liquid.

"Celebrating what?"

"Nothing important."

The win was good, but this is just the first game of the season. There's a whole lot left to determine if we'll be winning the Frozen Four this year.

"What are you here for?" I ask, emptying the contents of my bottle into my mouth.

"Just a little business."

Business, at his age?

"Damn, shouldn't you be a student?" I blurt.

"I am."

My heart picks up pace at his words, and I can't help but ask, "And you're here for school?"

"Not really."

He shrugs and looks away.

"Hmm... why do I have the feeling that this pretty boy is avoiding my question?" I nudge his shoulder, and he breaks into a laugh.

"You think I'm pretty?"

"Anyone who doesn't think you're pretty is obviously stupid."

I watch as his cheeks turn a pale, almost indecipherable pink.

"So, are you ignoring my questions or what?" I ask again. "Pretty boy."

"What do you think I'm doing, Mr. No Name?" He inches closer to my face, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Oh, we're going by that now?"

"Don't think I didn't catch you ignoring my question." He takes a long gulp from his bottle, emptying it.

"I don't think we need to exchange names just yet," I tell him, hell-bent on making sure he doesn't know my name. I mean, if I'm gonna fuck someone this close to school, I can't go around giving my name away.

"So what should I call you now?"

"Just Stranger is fine. And it's hot. Don't you think?"

My head is swaying from all the alcohol I've had.

"Oh, really?" He glances around and trails his finger along my arm resting on the counter.

His fingers wake me from my reverie.

I retreat immediately, glancing behind me to where the boys and the puck bunnies were celebrating. A few stray eyes are glancing in my direction.

Fuck.

Hope nobody saw that.

Taking a deep breath, I turn back to face the pretty boy in front of me.

"Meet me out back."

I take my bottle outside the bar and into the crisp air.

I stroll to the back alley behind the bar and wait, bottle in hand, my face cap hanging from my pocket.

After a few moments, he walks in, glancing behind him.

"Why are you—"

He doesn't complete his question before I slam my lips into his.

Fuck.

He tastes like sweet relief. It's been so long since I made out—not to talk of even having sex. I've had to pretend with all these girls, and right now, this guy tastes like heaven.

He's stunned, but he kisses me back.

I pull away and look into his eyes.

"To be clear, you want this, right?"

He glances down, and my eyes follow his. He looks back at me and nods.

I slide my lips over his again without hesitation.

He sighs into my mouth, grabbing my collar.

This is gonna be a fucking sweet night.