by K Webster
Everyone hoots and hollers, ready for the upcoming five-day break. Classes and sports shut down on Wednesday and won’t reopen until Monday. Most students go home, but the campus is still open for those who stay. Brayden’s parents invited us over for Thanksgiving, but aside from that, I’m looking forward to spending some downtime with Brayden. It’s definitely not easy dating a guy in secret. But until I can figure out how to coach his team and date a player on it, we don’t have much of a choice.
“What time is that fundraising crap?” Finn asks, snapping me from my thoughts.
“It’s not crap,” I say, hitting him with a hard stare. “The event supports the athletic program, which means it’s helping to support this team. It starts promptly at six and I expect you all to be there on time and dressed nice.” They groan in unison, some of them cursing under their breath.
I shoot them all a warning glare, so they know I’m not playing. “And nice, meaning dress pants, dress shirt, and tie. And iron that shit too. Got it?” Curtis made it clear this event is a big deal. It’s how the athletic program earns nearly thirty percent of their funding.
The guys all mutter their understanding. “All right, get out of here and I’ll see you tomorrow morning for practice… six a.m.”
The guys scramble to the locker room, ready to get on with the rest of their afternoon. I head into my office, while they shower and bullshit with each other about who’s throwing what party. I never knew college was like one long-ass party. I guess because I went from high school straight to the NHL, I skipped the whole college experience. Sure, the guys partied, but it was different. More sophisticated. I was surrounded by luxury and class. Here, I’m surrounded by immature college students who are chasing ass.
Some days it’s hard to remember that I’m the same age as these guys. Like my few years in the NHL forced me to grow up. As I type up an email to the transportation company we’ll be using next month for our away game, I think back to the Halloween party a couple weeks ago. I wasn’t keen on going at first, scared someone would recognize me, but in the end I was glad I got to go. For a single night I got to be my age… Dancing with Brayden and Ashton and Mia, drinking shitty liquor—just having a good time. It was the only time Brayden and I have been able to be out in public together, and to a certain extent, act like a couple.
“What’s going through that sexy head of yours?” a gravelly voice says. I glance up and quickly dart my eyes around to make sure nobody heard him.
“Everyone’s gone.” He steps into my office and closes the door behind him. With the blinds shut, the only way someone can see inside is through the window of the door.
I look at the time and realize I’ve been lost in my own head for close to thirty minutes. Brayden comes to my side of the desk and props his ass up against the edge. He’s dressed in his usual Ice Hawks sweats and hoodie. He’s sporting a matching blue beanie and wet strands of hair are sticking out from having just taken a shower. My eyes ascend until they meet his and he smirks, knowing I was just checking him out.
I don’t give a shit, though. He’s used to it. I spent years without him and sometimes I just need to look at him to remind myself that I have him back in my life. That he’s mine. And I’m his.
“So…” he prompts. “What’s going on in your head? You looked like you were lost in thought.”
I roll my chair back slightly and fist the front of his hoodie, pulling him over so he’s in front of me, standing between my legs. His fingers thread through my messy hair, that’s long overdue for a haircut, and I tug on the front of his hoodie, pulling him down to kiss him. The second our mouths connect, it feels like we’ve entered our own world. Just Brayden and me. No college, no hockey, no hiding. Just us.
“What’s wrong?” he asks when he ends the kiss. His brows are furrowed in concern, and I find myself rubbing the crease away on his forehead.
“I was just—” My words are cut off, when there’s a quick knock on the door and then it swings open. Brayden jumps back as Curtis walks through the door. My heart pumps extra hard as my entire body drains in nervousness.
Curtis’s gaze ping-pongs from me to Brayden and then back to me. “Everything okay in here?” he asks, obviously feeling the tension in the room, not knowing he’s the cause of it.
“Yeah,” I choke out, then clear my throat. “Bray… den and I were just going over some plays for tomorrow night’s game against Ohio.”
Curtis nods slowly. “How’re you feeling about it?”
“Good,” Brayden answers for me. “The chemistry of the team is solid this year. I think we have a chance of making it to the championship and taking the trophy home.”
“Good, good,” Curtis replies, a small smile finally forming on his lips. “And you’re ready to schmooze the donors on Saturday?”
“Yes, sir.” Brayden smirks. “I’ve even agreed to be auctioned off.”
Curtis chuckles, as my head swings his way. What the hell is he talking about?
“That’s right,” Curtis says. “I saw your name on the roster. Can’t wait to see which lucky lady wins a date with you.” He pats Brayden on the shoulder. “All right, I better get going. Dinner with the wife… Just wanted to touch base, Drew. I’ll see you guys Saturday.”
With one final look between the two of us, he exits, leaving the door wide-open. I wait a few seconds, until I hear the heavy locker room door slam shut and then I’m up and on Brayden. “You didn’t tell me you were being auctioned off.”
Brayden groans. “It honestly slipped my mind until the dean walked in.”
“Why the hell would you agree to that?” I accuse, hurt as hell that my boyfriend would be willing to auction himself off to the highest bidder. “It’s bad enough we can’t even go on a fucking date, but now you’re going to go on a date with someone else.”
“It’s not like that,” Brayden argues. “It’s for a good cause.”
“So, I’ll donate to the fucking fundraiser.” I know I sound like a jealous asshole. “Back out.”
Brayden scoffs. “I’m not backing out. I already agreed to it. Blow your money on something else.”
“So, what? You’re just going to go on this date with whichever woman wins you? Take her to dinner? You don’t think whoever spends thousands on you isn’t going to be expecting to get her money’s worth?”
Brayden snorts out a laugh. “It’s for a fundraiser. I’m not being pimped out.”
“Might as well be,” I argue, grabbing my jacket and throwing it over my shoulders. I had a meeting earlier with the athletic department, so I’m dressed in a fucking monkey suit, complete with a tie and dress shoes.
“It’s not like that,” Brayden says, following me out of the office. I flip the light switch then lock the door.
“Whatever, Bray,” I hiss. “Enjoy your fucking date.”
“Stop,” he commands, grabbing my bicep and turning me around. He pushes me up against a wall and his body presses against mine. “You don’t think I want to show up to that function with you, arm in arm? You don’t think I hate that every night we have to hide out in your room, that I can’t post a single picture of us on social media? That the only people who can know about us are my parents and Ashton and Mia?”
His brown eyes sear into mine. “I love you, Drew, and I want to shout that shit to the fucking world. Let everyone know that you’re mine.” He sighs. “But we can’t. I have seven months of school left and then we have the rest of our lives to be together in public.”
Brayden eyes me for a few seconds, then says, “You don’t think I would cheat on you, do you?”
I close my eyes, hating myself for being insecure. I know Brayden is committed to me, but I also know up until a few weeks ago, he was straight, and if the rumors are correct, fucking lots of different women.
“Drew…” he prompts.
I open my eyes and he’s staring at me with hurt etched across his features. I hate myself for even considering the notion that he would cheat on me.
Brayden loves me. He tells me every chance he gets and shows me every time we’re alone.
“No.” I shake my head to emphasize my answer.
“I wouldn’t.” He cages my face between his rough hands.
“I know. I just hate this shit. I’m sorry.”
“I do, too.” He presses his lips to mine. “But it’s not forever.”
I nod in agreement. “Yeah… You coming over tonight?” I don’t know why I’m even asking. Brayden has spent every night in my bed with me since the day we got together. Most of his clothes are in my drawers and hanging in my closet.
“Actually, I was thinking we should go out.”
“You know we can’t do that.” I take his hand in mine, threading our fingers together while we walk through the locker room.
“How about you go home and change into something more comfortable, and I’ll be over in an hour to pick you up.”
“Bray… You don’t have to do this.” I groan. “I was acting stupid.”
“No, you weren’t.” We stop in front of the entrance door and he palms my cheek and kisses me. “Now go home and get ready because I’m taking you out on our first official date.”
When I get home, the apartment is empty. I quickly change out of my suit and jump in the shower. As I’m deciding what to wear, Brayden sends me a text, telling me to dress casual. I get dressed in pair of nice jeans and a Henley. I throw on a pair of Chucks and put on my Tag Heuer watch—it was my first purchase when I received my signing bonus. I step into the bathroom, brush my teeth, and then spray some cologne on me. I have no idea what Brayden has planned, or how he plans to pull this off, but I’m excited nonetheless. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date.
When there’s a knock on my door, I chuckle to myself. Brayden never knocks. He and Mia might not officially live here, but they both come and go like they do.
I swing the door open and find Brayden standing on the other side, looking sexy as hell. He’s changed out of his sweats and hoodie and is dressed in a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved Reebok shirt, and matching Reebok tennis shoes.
When I get done eye-fucking him, I notice he’s holding a small bottle of whiskey in his hand. “I didn’t want to get too girly and shit,” he says with a shrug, “so I went with a bottle of liquor instead of flowers.” He hands it to me and my heart warms at the sentiment.
“Never understood why women always want flowers,” I joke.
“Right?” he deadpans. “Flowers just wilt away and die, and I swear every girl who sniffs them always says they smell beautiful. Have you ever smelled flowers? They’re so fragrant they make your eyes water.” His nose scrunches up in disgust, and I laugh.
“You ready to go?” he asks, stepping inside and giving me a quick kiss.
“Yeah, let me just put my bottle in the freezer. For later.” I wink, and he laughs. It’s the best fucking sound in the world.
As Brayden drives through town, we make small talk about the game tomorrow night, the upcoming holiday break, and how he’s doing in his classes. I don’t know where we’re going, and I guess I could ask, but I’d rather wait to see what he has planned.
When we get out of town, my heart drops. I should’ve known wherever we’re going would require us leaving Hawk’s Landing. I know Brayden is only doing what he has to do so we can be together in public, but it’s still a reminder that in order to do so, we have to drive past the town limits.
An hour later I’m starting to wonder where we’re going when he gets off the interstate and I see the sign. “Bray…”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me we’re not going where I think we’re going.” There’s no way he would bring us here of all places.
“Where do you think we’re going?” he asks, pulling into the parking lot of the Michigan Wolves stadium.
“To watch a Wolves game.”
“Yep,” he says as he swings into a parking spot.
“This is awesome, but we can’t go in there.” I might’ve only played in the NHL for a short time, but I was one of the top paid players. Any smart hockey fan will recognize me.
“Trust me?” he asks, turning the vehicle off.
“Of course I do.”
“Then, c’mon.” He drops a Wolves ball cap into my hands. “And put that on.” He shakes a matching one out and pulls it over his head.
As we walk through the parking lot, memories of when we were younger flash through my mind. Coming to this stadium to watch the Wolves play—my dad play. My dad would offer to get us seats up close, but Brayden’s dad insisted we sit in the higher level cheap seats. He said you have to work your way down to appreciate the view up close. So, we would come to the games and, with our binoculars stuck to our faces, commentate the entire game. Some of my best memories with Brayden were up in those shitty seats.
When we get to the ticket window, Brayden tells the woman he purchased tickets online and gives her his confirmation number. She hands him the tickets and we head inside.
“Let’s get our food,” he says, stopping at the concession stand. “Two boxes of popcorn, an order of nachos, two blue raspberry slushies, and two hot dogs, please,” he orders. “Did I get that right?”
My heart damn near explodes in my chest that he remembers exactly what we used to order. Since Tim insisted on buying the seats, my dad insisted on paying for the snacks. Looking back, it’s kind of ironic that we probably paid more for the food than the seats.
“Yeah,” I choke out. “It’s right.”
With our food piled high in our arms, we head into the stadium. The game has already started, but it doesn’t fucking matter. This is already the best damn date I’ve ever been on.
“What are our seat numbers?” I ask, glancing at the signs.
“Q 42 and 43,” he says with a smirk.
I laugh, fucking elated that he got us the nosebleed seats.
On our way to our seats, he stops a man selling binoculars and buys two pairs. I laugh, remembering how we used to bring our own to every game. Once we find our seats, we drop into them and set our food down in the empty seats next to us. Then, we both bring our binoculars up to our faces so we can see what’s going on.
We spend the next couple hours watching Michigan kick New York’s ass. We commentate the game, eat the shitty food, and laugh as we reminisce about the past.
“What’d you think?” Brayden asks on our way home. “Good first date?”
I take his hand in mine and bring it up to my lips, placing a kiss to his knuckles. “You set the bar pretty high. Next date I’m going to expect you to top that.”
Brayden laughs. “Nah, next date is all yours. That’s the great thing about dating a guy. I don’t have to be the one to plan it all.”
A Few Days Later
“…think it’s wonderful you’ve donated a date to raise money for the athletic program. I know I’ll certainly be bidding.”
I stifle a groan as I smile at Mrs. Vanworth. “All for the cause.”
“Mother,” Sasha says tightly. “Don’t embarrass Daddy. I already told you, he’s spoken for. I’ll be bidding on Brayden and going on the date with him. You just write that check into my account.”
Both women titter and plaster on fake smiles.
Jesus Christ.
Where are my friends?
I scan the room, flooded with people dressed in their fancy attire. The tie around my neck feels like a noose, tightening with each second I have to spend rubbing elbows with Sasha and her mother. When I spot Drew, I finally have an excuse to bail.
“Just saw Coach,” I say, gently gripping Sasha’s shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Make sure you’re by the podium around nine,” she reminds me. “We’ll figure the date out later. I’m thinking a weekend trip to New York City. My treat. The least I can do to help with the fundraiser.”
Drew will shit his pants if she tries to take me to New York for the weekend. Not sure how I’ll get out of this, but I’ll damned sur
e try.
“We’ll discuss it later,” I state. “If you win.”
Sasha laughs, her boobs jiggling to the point I’m afraid they’ll fall right out of her sparkly blue cocktail dress. “Oh, sweetie, I always do.”
Fucking wonderful.
I walk away, shaking off the unease that girl puts on me. Along the way to see Drew, I wave and stop to talk to a few teammates. I’ve been putting forth more of an effort to not be such a closed-off dick. The results are paying off. People don’t seem so intimidated by me and are inviting me to shit. I don’t necessarily want to go, but I at least don’t shut them down.
Just wish Drew could go with me.
Wednesday was awesome. Getting to hang out with him in public. As a couple with no one giving us shit. I’m looking forward to the day we can do more of that.
Drew is in mid-conversation with several older men, Curtis included. He’s in his element, looking hot as fuck and charismatic as hell. When he catches my stare, his blue eyes blaze and his dimple pops out.
Goddamn, he’s good-looking.
“Damn, Brayden,” Ashton’s familiar voice rings out from behind me, his knuckle running down my spine. “Lookin’ like a snack tonight. Those sorority bitches are gonna be throwing their daddy’s checkbooks at you.”
I swivel around, smirking, ready to toss a comeback his way, but I’m stunned speechless by the sight of them. Mia and Ashton. Ashton and Mia. Holy shit.
Mia is wearing a skintight, sparkly red gown that dips low in the front, showing off her delectable cleavage, and hugs every curve. Fuck her mom for ever insinuating she wasn’t the hottest girl in every room. Her dark hair is twisted up into some fancy do and her makeup is flawless. Talk about looking like a movie star. Mia is a fucking starlet tonight.
And Ashton.
It’s a good goddamn thing he doesn’t dress like this every night.
Black suit. Silver tie. Dark hair mussed up into a just-fucked way. His hazel eyes scream bad boy, but he cleans up so well. You can tell he grew up with all this fancy shit because he wears it like a second skin, unlike myself, who tugs at the knot of his tie every two minutes.