6. Carter

SIX

My hands trembled allthe way back to the team house. It was thankfully empty when I shut the front door and flicked the light switch to my right. The room lit up, and I marched around the large kitchen island to the sink, pouring myself a glass of water and nearly choking on it. A sob burst from me mid-gulp, and I set the glass on the counter.

After a coughing fit, I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole. How would I ever show my face at the rink again? Or look at Beckett in this house? Or wake up with that stupid hope that Nate Partridge might notice me someday as more than what I was in his eyes.

Dear God, I was stupid. I was a silly boy with unrealistic dreams who had just gotten his first gut punch of adulthood.

I couldn't fathom going up to my room, but I couldn't sit in this silence anywhere in the house. I hurried upstairs to fetch my guitar, then walked into the basement to be alone and as close to hell as I could physically get on short notice. After I shut the door, I dropped into an armchair and plucked the strings without thinking. Of course, it had to be D minor. I wasn't about to play myself a cheerful tune.

The notes poured out of my fingers with no planning or thought. They filled the room with their bitching and moaning, each chord poking me in my open, bleeding heart.

For a moment there, I had thought we'd found some common ground. I had thought we understood each other on a different level. I had thought, stupidly, that if I did this one surprising, daring thing, all the rewards would be mine. Ours. I wanted him to know he was safe with me. So you scared the shit out of him by kissing him, I snapped at myself internally. A fucking genius.

Would he tell Dad?

I dismissed that thought a moment later. If there were one thing I knew about Nate Partridge, he would keep his word. He had a code of honor of his own, and he would stick to it. What I'd done would remain between us.

The thought wasn't comforting at all.

Every time we saw each other after tonight, we would both know what a foolish boy I was. Reminders would haunt me for the rest of my life.

If I could turn back time, I knew exactly where I would have taken a different direction. That morning when his phone betrayed him. I wouldn't have searched for him. I wouldn't have identified that anonymous profile on a hookup site for gay men. I wouldn't have betrayed my knowledge to anyone, even Nate. And if I had superpowers, I would have erased it from my mind, too.

I was happiest when Nate Partridge was only a fantasy. Allowing myself to think that I could ever have a chance had cost me everything.

He'd tasted so good. In that single heartbeat, dreams sprang from my soul, possibilities spawned, and ideas took such a deep root in me that I couldn't stop them from swirling around my head now.

I had been in love with him for over two years, but I'd barely seen him in that time. I had found him attractive for much longer than that. In fact, all my life, Nate Partridge was the ultimate man. He was the very definition of what a man should be. Friendly, caring, understanding, kind, firm, reliable. I could go on forever. All these things had tugged at me until the moment it dawned on me that he was the only person I wanted.

The hookups that had kept me busy in the meantime had only assured me more that I couldn't heal my bruised heart by losing myself in other men. Not when the one I wished to worship was out there, as beautiful as ever.

My mournful ballad came to a sad end, and I wanted to throw the guitar away. It was just another stupid dream. I'd had no true talent or formal education. It was just a whim of a kid who didn't know what rejection felt like until tonight. It was a waste of my time.

Ron pushed the door open. "Why did you stop? I was enjoying that."

"Were you eavesdropping?" I asked flatly.

"Don't bite my head off," Ron said. "It's not like you were admitting to a murder."

No. I had been spilling my heart out instead.

"You have to try playing for a crowd, man," he insisted, walking past me to grab a beer from the fridge.

"Is the party over?" I deflected.

"Wasn't much of a party," Ron replied, bringing me a can. "We had a round of drinks. Then, the captain of the Breakers picked up Avery. I think he's holding him hostage."

"They're dating," I said sulkily. Everyone in this goddamn house was dating. Almost all of them were dating guys, too.

"And so, my joke falls flat," Ron said casually, cracking the can open. "Sawyer went away with Noah to watch a meteor shower, I think, and Caden whispered something to Beckett that made our captain leap from the table with a thirsty look on his face. Jordan's mooning over Asher while Paxton watches. I figured I might as well head back here and see what held you back."

I'm not telling you that, I thought and almost made myself chuckle. I kissed our coach, and it went about as well as you'd expect. Instead of saying anything, I pressed the can against my lips and took a long sip of beer.

"What's bothering you, man?" he asked.

I shook my head and swallowed. "Nothing."

He was quiet for a little while. Then, as if I wasn't getting grilled enough, he returned to the earlier topic. "I found a bar off campus that has open-mic nights for bands, solos, and even karaoke."

"Are you planning on singing?" I asked, playing dumb. Recent events told me I didn't need to pretend too hard. I was as thick as it got.

"If you play us a song, I'll happily get on that stage before you. To lower the expectations." He gave a proud grin but returned to a more serious expression after a moment. "People should hear you play, man. You've got a crazy talent."

I kept hearing that about a great many things, but I had never doubted myself more than I did tonight. What was the point of my talent if I always made all the wrong choices? "Are you sure you're not crazy? I'm an amateur."

"That doesn't stop every good-looking person on the planet from making a ton of money on OnlyFans," Ron said with the same old smile. "And it shouldn't stop you."

I just shook my head. There was no reasoning with him. My roommate was a stubborn young man.

"And if it's stage fright, then I think you have to try it. Don't let your fear hold you back," he said.

"I'll think about it," I sighed.

"Do you promise?" he asked.

I nodded, crossing my heart with my left hand and lifting the can with my right.

Ron wore a little smile while he watched me. The silence rang loudly in my ears, and the heat climbed into my face when I remembered kissing Nate. Fuck. It had felt so good to touch his torso and his lips.

"Are you still thinking?" Ron asked.

"Oh my God, fine!" His eyes widened with surprise just as my heart leaped. Was I actually doing this? "Fine. I'll do it. Just stop pestering."

"Yay! I'm so glad you said yes. I booked you for quarter past nine on Tuesday. After my karaoke disaster, as I promised. I expect a small crowd, so that shouldn't worry you." He set his beer on the soccer table and crossed his arms, his chest rising with pride. "When you're rich and famous, I'll expect a cut for talent discovery."

"You did what?" I gaped.

He shrugged guilelessly. "You heard me. Five percent."

While Ron laughed and joked, I shook my head in disbelief. Did he really have faith in me? It felt like nobody else did. He had no reason to care. He had nothing to win by supporting a foolish fantasy. And yet, he did it because he was nice.

It reminded me of Nate standing up for me. He'd had no reason to care about me back then. He could have just agreed with Dad about my prospects, and that would have been the end of it.

My heart throbbed when Nate's face floated before my eyes. I didn't give a fuck about the ethics or the formal relationship between us. Hell, I didn't even care what Dad would say.

I played a few chords on my guitar, then found a tune to follow. B minor, A minor, D minor. My tunes had nothing happy in them tonight, but Ron still closed his eyes and listened like he was hearing the music of heaven. It was strange to see someone without an agenda supporting me. Mostly, Dad supported whatever would bring our name the most glory, and Coach Partridge, in that capacity, wanted the Titans to advance, for which I was just another tool. Beckett wanted to land on a good team after college, which was helped by having solid captaining experience with a winning team. Not Ron, though. He just wanted me to do something nice for myself.

Later, when we both returned to our room, I felt a little better. There were emotions I kept tightly bottled, of course, but I could hold the lid on them a while longer. I wasn't a total mess.

"Ron," I said quietly from my bed. Across the room, my friend stirred. "Thanks for tonight."

"You're welcome, Carter," he said simply.

It was such an innocent thing to say that my lips dragged down. I wanted Nate to be that person in my life. He had been once, so why couldn't we have that again? That and more.

Humiliation was the only thing stopping me from sinking into deep sleep with Nate's image before my eyes. Instead, I stared at the ceiling, wondering how I would ever look at him again.

Even in rejecting me, he had played that responsible, caring role. He didn't want me feeling like shit because of the mistake I'd made.

I wanted there to be a way for me to hate him. If he could do just one wrong thing, that would make everything right. I could grip it and hold on to it. I could milk it with spite for the rest of my life. If only he'd done something wrong.

But Nate was incapable of that. He just had to be the knight in that goddamn shining armor.

Somehow, I fell asleep that night. I fell deep and didn't wake until late in the morning, missing the alarm that normally got me to exercise at an ungodly hour for the chance of seeing Nate. I probably wouldn't have woken up had it not been for the dream. It was a wild thriller of a dream, fading abruptly as I regained my consciousness.

I groped after traces, vividly seeing Nate's slick lips, teeth closing around the lower one, his deep purr ringing in my ears when he commanded me to kneel for him. I could recall the softness of his hand on my cheek and the firmness with which he gripped the hair on the back of my head. And I could remember the longing I felt in the moments before I pulled his pants down. The excitement at seeing what he was hiding was the very thing that woke me up.

Pain and pressure in my underwear made me hold my breath. Glancing across the room, I realized I was all alone. My erection throbbed as I pressed my palm against the tip of my hard cock, pushing it away by a few inches. The trouble was, I wasn't horny at all now that I was awake, but my dick wasn't getting the message. In fact, I was mostly embarrassed.

If I had hoped to wake up with a clearer head, that was just wishful thinking. If anything, I was more embarrassed in daylight. The prospect of seeing Nate at the gym kept me in my bed until half past nine, and the idea that I would have to speak to him tonight at practice kept my guts tied into knots. I couldn't eat anything today. Everything I tried eating smelled bad and made me gag. So I avoided everyone and everything until the moment we all gathered in the locker room. There, I felt weak from not eating.

Sweat broke over me as I pressed my back against the wall in the back of the room, expecting Nate to walk in at any moment. Restlessly, I dragged my palms over my upper legs, and my gaze went everywhere where I wouldn't catch another person's eyes.

If I could just sneak out before Nate arrived, everything would be fine.

My toes curled on the flat floor before I put on my skates. The truth was, I couldn't bend down to put them on because my stomach was heaving at every sound and sight.

When chills ran down my spine and my chin trembled, I felt a wave of such dizziness that I groped for the wall to keep myself standing. That was the exact moment when Nate Partridge strolled into the locker room.

He seemed ten feet tall. He radiated with such unearthly, ageless beauty that it felt like an insult. As if he had been visited by Adonis in the middle of the night and transformed from a gorgeous man to an incredibly beautiful one, Nate let his sharp gaze scan the room. "How are you, boys? I hope your celebrations didn't take you all night." As he inhaled, his chest seemed to puff out. What had rejuvenated him this much? There wasn't a smile on his face, but a set determination that made him look more alive than I'd seen him before. "A victory is great. A string of victories is better. You're not going to get soft now, are you?"

"No, Coach," several voices called.

My heart dropped into my stomach. Saliva was gathering in my mouth, and I wondered if it was Nate I was drooling over, but I soon realized I was about to be sick.

I must have made a sound because several gazes found me in the back, cowering from precisely that, and stayed on me.

"Prince? Are you feeling alright?" Nate asked. "Did you have a few too many, by any chance?"

"He wasn't with us," Beckett muttered, and Ron vouched for me.

"I'm fine, Coach," I said, but I promptly gagged and revealed the lie.

"Alright, guys. Head out. I'll be with you soon." Nate was waving at them to leave the locker room. "Not you, Prince. Stay where you are." I had only shifted so I wouldn't have to face him so openly. "Partridge, tell Margot to get you started. She knows what to do." As he passed through the crowd toward me, I could hear Nate mutter to himself, "Probably knows better than me, anyway."

Could he not see how fucking perfectly matched we were? I felt the same exact thing about myself all the goddamn time.

The locker room was empty save for the two of us, but Nate still didn't manage to reach me. "Carter…"

I lifted a finger to gesture for him to wait a minute, then ran into the bathroom. What left me was only a bunch of embarrassing sounds and saliva because I hadn't eaten a breadcrumb all day. I dry heaved a few times, hugging the toilet, and then pulled myself to my feet. I leaned over the sink and splashed my face a few times, then washed my mouth for no real reason, then stumbled back from the bathroom. Part of me hoped that Nate had gone to the drills instead of wasting his time here, but I knew better than to expect that.

He stood exactly where he had been before. In the middle of the locker room, arms crossing, tall and breathtakingly beautiful, the man I could never have shook his head. "What's the matter, Carter?"

"It must be coffee," I murmured. "I had a few cups on an empty stomach."

"Empty stomach? It's seven in the evening. Christ," he snapped. "Come with me." He turned around, and my gaze trailed the broad upper back, the narrow waist, and the firm, round ass. I unashamedly inspected him from behind, righteous in my deviance simply because I couldn't be more embarrassed, even if he caught me looking.

I followed Nate into his office. He showed me one of the chairs in front of his desk and then shut the door while I sat down. He walked around his desk, opened one of the drawers, moved some stuff around, and pressed a small package on the desk. He pushed it across. "Eat this."

I picked it up and examined the label. A protein bar. My mouth watered again as I peeled off the wrapping and bit off a chunk. From Nate, even a sugarless protein bar was delicious. "Thanks."

He sank back into his chair and exhaled slowly, watching me eat. "Not eating, huh?" He'd waited until I was almost done before he asked this.

"Wasn't hungry," I said shortly, not meeting his gaze.

He waited. And waited. When I was done with the snack, I folded the wrapping several times until it formed a little rectangle between my fingers. "Carter, look at me," he said firmly but not unkindly.

I forced myself to obey.

"You asked me to stop treating you like a kid, and I feel like I need to ask you the same. Don't think you can fool me. I know more about the ways of human hearts than you'd imagine. Maybe I don't have a happy family to prove it, but I know what I'm talking about. I'd had my fair share of good times and bad. So when you're suddenly not hungry the day after what happened, you can't convince me it's a coincidence." Not once did he sound like he was lecturing me.

I didn't take my gaze off his eyes. I was strong enough to stare at him all night if he wanted. "Did you ever do anything that embarrassing?"

"What do you think?" It was a simple question, but it was suggestive enough to spark my curiosity. "Everyone who's ever kissed anyone had done something like that, Carter. Was it the right thing to do? No. But that doesn't make you guilty of some horrible crime." His voice turned a little cooler as he spoke. After a short while, he cleared his throat. "To be honest, I blame myself. I must have done something that gave off the wrong signal. I apologize, Carter. I never meant to confuse you or lead you on. And I think it's for the best if I tell you so right away." He leaned forward and folded his arms on the desk. "I take full responsibility for last night. Do you hear me? If anyone should be ashamed, it's me. Not you, kid."

Fucker. He knew what he was doing, calling me that again. "You're wrong," I said sourly. "You didn't do anything at all."

"Well, I disagree," he said in such a polite tone that it only fueled my anger.

My heart skipped a beat, and fear turned my legs to stone, but my mouth worked unhindered. "Maybe I'm just into you, Nate." I could see the color changing on his face, and I wondered if I resembled a red rose in full bloom if he was this pink already. Fire was about to consume me whole. "Maybe I've been dreaming about doing that for years. And maybe I looked at you last night and saw how attractive and perfect you are, and I just couldn't resist it anymore." My voice cracked, and I wanted to strangle myself for showing such weakness. Resorting to whispering, I continued. "You didn't need to give me a sign. I was waiting for an opportunity. I didn't need you to ask for it, Nate. I just needed us to stay alone."

His blank stare made everything so much worse.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I'm still a little sick," I said, rubbing my stomach. I wasn't lying, either. Seeing how the blush faded from his face and he turned pale was enough to make me nauseous. "I think I'd like to go to bed for the night, Coach."

"Can you manage on your own?" he asked in a voice that was as hollow as his eyes.

"Yessir." I stood up before he told me I could leave and walked out of his office.

What the fuck had I done? Why had I said all those things?

The world spun a million miles an hour around me as I tried my best to stay on course. I walked straight from the rink to the empty team house, but with every step, I felt closer to leaving Northwood altogether.

I couldn't possibly hope to play for Nate again.