A new teammate?

THEODORE

After spending most of the rest of my night tossing and turning because of Sue’s actions, and not sleeping at all, I’m surprised the team isn’t wiping my ass during practice.

And Coach isn’t yelling and telling me how bad my form is.

Come on, Theo. Focus… focus.

The blades of our skates carves sharp lines into the ice as our drills runs longer, the session full of nothing but the scrape of sticks, men shouting, and that occasional burst of laughter. I keep my focus on the puck, passing it hard to the left wing, Marcus, but the guys are truly in a mood this morning.

The boys are loose and rowdy. And full of nothing but the need to do stupid ass shit-talking because they realized they’re the best team in the state.

Which is supposed to be a given since we won the nationals last year… alright, alright… I’m the one getting cocky now.

“Yo, Theo!” One of my teammates, Ethan, calls out, gliding beside me with a grin that can only mean trouble. He lowers his voice just enough to be heard over the scrape of the skates. “You heard about what happened to that shit-face Raphael? He got a girl pregnant after his first time. Like, actually knocked her up,” he whistles. “Dude got some major responsibilities coming.”

I nearly miss the next pass. No fucking way. I snap my head around, stick frozen mid-swing. “No, no, you got to be kidding me. Raphael? My Raphael?” Ethan nods. “Dude is fresh out of diapers. How did he even wing that after all the sex talk he’s been getting from Lucas?” My breath clouds in the cold air. “Serious talk. Is the girl keeping it?”

Ethan nods, eyes mirroring the same mix of disbelief and amusement in mine. “Yeah. They’re actually excited about it.”

Jax, the right wing, skates towards us. “He’s going to raise little babies in his dorm room. Maybe keep a cradle in one corner, mini-stick set in the other. Real family man shit.”

“Fuck off, man!”

We circle the puck forward to the man of the hour himself, who is cherry-red in the face but smirking like he got everything figured out. Punk. “That’s right,” Raphael shouts back, overhearing just enough. “I’m going to be a father, and everyone got to deal with it. The dorm room’s gonna be lit.”

Marcus barks a laugh as he steals the puck and circle back. “Or maybe we’ll just raise the baby in Theodore’s flat. He has all that space and no one is actually going to let you raise a baby in the dorm. Please, Cap, let Raphael and his wife stay with you.” The asshole actually places his hands together in a begging motion.

“She’s not my wife!”

“Fuck off, M. Stop making Raphael feel like shit,” I say at the same time, rolling my eyes so hard it’s nothing but a miracle I don’t fall down on my ass. “First thing, my place is not a nursery. Second, I don’t need Raphael and his girlfriend camping there.” There’s a stranger coming already and I don’t care for it. And I can barely keep my shit together.

But despite my protests, I cannot help but grin, the chirping keeping the drill light as we move the puck around, legs pumping, bodies checking lightly onto the boards.

We keep at it until everyone is drenched in sweat, our jerseys clinging, hair plastered under our helmets. By the time coach blows the final whistle, and we head off the ice, sticks slung over shoulders, I am more than ready to head back to bed and just sleep the pounding of my fucking brain away. Damn Sue and her issue of keeping things from me until it’s too late.

“There’s my best friend and honey bear. What’s going on with you, man?” Lucas throws his hand around my shoulder, shaking me up a bit. “Don’t think I had the time to talk to you during practice.”

“Don’t call me your honey bear, Lucas,” I groan, turning my face to the side before he gets any of his grand plans. Like kissing me straight on the lips the way he normally does, for reasons known to him.

Lucas Graham, the best goalie of the Frosthaven Blizzards, has been my best friend since I met the dude when we were fifteen. As the new kid and one that was also without a family, everyone thought I was going to be nothing but weird. Imagine their surprise when I crushed all their hopes and dreams during the ice hockey team tryouts. My first time playing with a full team too. According to Lucas, there was no way he was going to let such a valuable player not become his best friend.

I’m not kidding. The man made me his best friend right there and then, and now I cannot imagine a life without him in it.

“Mannn, you won’t believe the shit I’m dealing with right now,” I roll my eyes, tired of all the craziness at this point. “She decided to have her internship someplace and gave her room to some random person for six months. She didn’t even bother telling me before she gave it out.”

“Ouch.”

“After she woke me up with her stupid moans too. Fuck, no woman has ever driven me this crazy.”

Lucas snorts, shaking his head. “And once again I’m telling you the same thing I’ve been telling you for years. Come live with us at the dorms. Nothing crazy like that is happening there.”

“From what I’m hearing, there’s a baby on the way to that dorm. I don’t think that’s any better.”

“Welcome to the circus, bro.”

We shower, change into our normal clothes, the locker room fills with the usual post-practice chaos—slamming lockers, towel snaps, and more jokes about Raphael’s impending fatherhood. The boy isn’t even serious about the situation and keeps making jokes with Marcus about how he’s going to turn his child into the biggest hockey star in the world. He’s also convinced this baby is going to be a boy.

Father instincts, he calls it.

More like idiot instincts. He cannot get sillier than that.

I’m just zipping up my hoodie when the door swings open, and Coach walks in with a guy at his side. That tall, broad-shouldered and dark haired guy that I never thought I’ll be seeing again. Until the Nationals at the very least.

My stomach drops like I’d taken a body check into the glass.

No.

I’d seen that face for the first time during the last Nationals and had just a single thought. Beautiful. I’d seen him bent over, coughing his entire insides out and thought I should ask the big question. The asshole didn’t even let me finish before his fist connected with my cheek, ending in a crack that still echoes from memory.

Punching me was not the stick that broke the camel’s back.

It was his words.

“Don’t fucking touch me again,” he snarled, pushing me once more. And then the words fucking cocksucker wants to fuck me thrown in like it wasn’t a slur.

Like if I ever wanted to fuck a man, it would be someone as nasty as him.

I barely register Coach’s voice as he drones on and on about the importance of team spirit and the need for fresh blood at certain times of our life until the final words cut through the fog.

“…so let me be the one to announce it officially. Noah Carter is your new teammate.”