Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

CAULDER

I don't know why I'm fucking flirting with this man right now. It's dangerous. Far too fucking dangerous. I'm slipping. I can't afford to. But god, I love the way he smirks at me. It's sensual and sexy as fuck.

He licks his lips and I can tell he's considering his response. We're bordering on far too fucking inappropriate if overheard. Guys banter, I know that. We can likely play it off. But I think there are probably far too many casual shots of us staring at each other to successfully convince anyone it's just teasing.

Maybe we can run the story of a new bromance. We're forced to room together and have found common teasing ground in hockey. Giving each other a hard time. Trying to mess with the other's mental game.

He's a damn good player or he wouldn't be here right now. I have a suspicion he's not as used to compartmentalizing being attracted to those around him as much as I am. Lo's said that the only people who know he's gay are those who have zero ties to hockey. Which tells me hockey players either aren't his usual type and therefore he doesn't often face attraction to those around him. Or I'm really getting to him.

Whereas I am constantly reminding myself that these men are my colleagues, and I will not think of them in any other capacity. Most of the time when I find someone in hockey attractive now, it's barely a mental acknowledgement. A note of, oh, he's hot , and then that shit gets stuffed in a box in the back of my mind, never to be looked at again.

"It's a new stick," he comments at last, tapping his stick on the ice. "I'm still quite fascinated with how shiny and new it is. Been a bit distracting."

I chuckle and sit back a bit to look around.

"My bet is on Max," he says. "That man's going to bring it home."

"No argument there." I shake my head, and look to where Max is still out talking to the TV anchors. He has a big smile on his face, but there's a calmness that's new in recent years. Not something that I recognize in Max yet.

His air of recklessness is no more. He can still be high energy, but he's far more reserved than he was previously. It's a good look on him, even if it's still a jarring change.

"He deserves it," Noah says, flashing us a smile.

A sick feeling rolls in my stomach that maybe he heard us kinda, sorta flirting. I hold my breath but then berate myself. Out of anyone who could overhear us, Noah isn't going to be one to say anything.

I pay a lot of attention to all the LGBTQIA+ athletes from a distance. Which means reading a lot of articles and social media accounts. Noah is probably one of the quietest; so I'm confident he's going to keep whatever he hears to himself. On more than one occasion, I've heard and read interviews with him where they're asking about someone else, and his comment is always ‘that's not my place to say.'

It's always made me a Noah fan.

Everyone outside of the top eight leaves the ice. The goalies come out onto the ice and I watch them as they warm up. Stretch and do sexy little pelvic humps toward the ice. Yep, always sexy. The videos where there's someone's voiceover saying ‘you want to know why we watch hockey? This right here. Why is no one talking about it?' is always over players stretching. Frogs and downward dogs. The hip thrusts to the ice.

I mean, I see it. I'd watch hockey for the stretching too. Like it or not, it's hot. Meh, not sorry.

The one-on-one goalie shootout is pretty straight forward. There are two sets of pucks, the first five are worth one point each and must be played first. The line of pucks on the blue line are worth two points. There's a minute to shoot as many as possible and make as many shots as possible.

We're on our feet now in a line opposite the goalies. They're announced one at a time and I make an internal prediction on who the last two goalies are going to be. Azure for sure. Maybe Lamar.

I've got some time to wait, so I get comfortable on a knee and watch as Avianna asks Ivanovich who he's choosing.

"I choose Drick," he says.

"Ah, staring him down. Right across from you. Why did you choose Drick?"

"He in front of me. Seems good reason."

Avianna laughs. "Good reason. Okay."

They get in position, and I watch how this is going to go down. It's straightforward as far as shooting goes. Ivanovich does okay, ending with nine points. Ji?í does not do as well, only gaining two. I cringe.

Up next is Mattias J?nsson.

"Why are you choosing Trustein?"

"I cannot score against others on breakaways. Not good. Best odds for me."

Avianna chuckles.

I shake my head. He gets through the five one-points quickly, sinking two, then ends with six points. As they're skating back this way, I overhear Trustein say, "Stopped more than you attempted, buddy."

Mattias doesn't respond until he meets my eyes, while I hold my glove out to him. "Good thing I do not speak English. Just noise from Trustein."

I laugh and turn my attention to Lo as Avianna asks. "All right, Laurent. Who's it going to be?"

"I'm going to have to go with Gibbon."

"Ooooo," Avianna comments. "The big man who doesn't remember he's a goalie and shoots his shots. All right."

Lamar winks as he heads for the net, pulling his helmet down as he does. Not for the first time, I think I'm glad I'm not a goalie. Lo works through the first five, making one. He gets the first two-point, true to form, in the upper corner.

But Lamar knows his moves and Lo's forced to change it up. He scores another two by moving it around Lamar as Lamar gets down to block and swings it around the side. I grin when it goes through. The last puck is a wild card for Lo and I know he's taking a chance as he attempts to shoot it right between Lamar's split legs.

He makes it and Lo ends with seven points. I laugh. Lo meets my eyes as soon as he turns around, giving me a smirk as he skates by.

I tune out most of Niklas' and Link's turns as I concentrate on mentally getting prepared for my turn. It comes quicker than I think I'm ready for and before long, Avianna is next to me.

"Two choices, Caulder. Who's it going to be?"

It's between Azure and Davies. I just have to beat three points to advance. Who do I have a better chance at scoring on? Probably Davies so I'm not sure why I say, "Azure."

"Not what I anticipated. Why Azure?"

I meet Azure's eyes. There's no smile there. Nothing to suggest he heard me choose him at all. Shrugging, I say, "He's a tough player. I've never had an opportunity to face him one-on-one."

"Risky time to try here, but I like that reason. Good luck." She claps my arm.

That seems to be Azure's cue. As I face him at the ready, I decide half the reason Azure is such an avoided opponent is because he has a very cold, closed expression. It's devoid of emotion. Looking in his eyes has a way of throwing off a player's game. So I avoid doing so.

I think the other reason might be because he's unusual by staying almost stationary as he waits for the puck to come at him. He moves at the last minute, almost anticipating half a second before we shoot how it's going to go.

The whistle sounds and I head in. Azure blocks all five of the first attempts, even as I shoot around the net, trying to find a weakness. I manage to sink two of the two-point pucks. It's luck more than skill. One gets in as it bounces back from Azure's shoulder, not because I had a clean shot. The other was simply fucking luck. Straight up. Off his right skate. There was no talent there.

Somehow, I get to the final round by the skin of my teeth. I drop onto the bench between Mattias and Lo. Max is up next and he ties for second most shots.

"Max killing it," Mattias says, tsking. "He leave no chance for us."

I chuckle as he gets to his feet. Definitely no disagreement there. He's one of two eliminated this round, the second being Ji?í. Waving him off, I promise to see him after the game. Whatever we do after, I'll definitely catch up with him.

Lo knocks his shoulder into mine and we silently watch the peeps on the ice change up the event. We remain quiet in companionable silence and I think now he's finally managing to get his head in the game. Focusing and channeling his attention on this event.

Again, we begin at the bottom of the stack, Ivanovich first. He heads through the obstacle course strong through the bridges, but has a little trip up where his skates hit each other. He ends with 49.365 seconds.

Then it's Lo's turn and I stare, leaning closer to the half wall to watch him. Keeping my eyes on him. Silently, I'm chanting, "Come on, Lo. Come on." He stumbles a little at the three nets beyond the bar, but makes it up by long-shot shooting at the end, hitting the target and signaling the buzzer.

Lo takes a breath, letting his head drop back. He's currently leading the line up with 43.435 seconds. He's now the man to beat! My grin is huge when he climbs the wall and knocks my glove with his. "Nice, Lo."

He smiles.

We sit in silence watching Link and Niklas take their turns. Link ends up going through more than a dozen pucks at the three nets and ends with over a minute and a quarter. He lets his head fall back as he glides toward the bench.

"No speak," he grumbles when he steps into the box. "I did shit."

There's no word for encouragement here. I get it.

Then it's my turn. Lo claps my arm on the way by but I'm already focused on the task at hand. With the puck at the ready, right in front of my stick, I look up and wait for the signal. It sounds and I take off, pushing it forward and swinging around the back of the net. The first set of obstacles are a dozen small bridges, all lit and set up like a cricket field. Five are lit green, the others blue. They're at different angles and facing various directions. Our task is to get through them, placing the puck only through the green ones.

I stumble a little as I slide to the far right, nearly missing one. A second, my stick gets stuck and I end up flinging the bridge off. But I make it through without many more hiccups. The one I'm most dreading is right in front of me now.

There's a short barrier, maybe two inches high. A gaggle of pucks behind it. Beyond are the three small, short nets. Two of which are three times wider than the thin one.

I slow down and concentrate. Yes, I'm timed, but I could stand here like Link and just shoot until I miss what feels like a hundred shots. Or I can take the extra breaths and focus. Knowing this is probably my Achilles heel, I choose to focus.

The first long one is easy enough. I miss the narrow one and have to calm myself down. It's fine. This is fine. The second attempt goes in. My first attempt at the second long one goes in and I speed on, grabbing the intended puck and make my way through to the next obstacle—weaving between wide barriers.

The trick isn't just speed, it's skating skills and puck control. Losing the puck on one of these switchbacks could cost you everything. I slow it down, just a little, and stare at one goal at a time. Left, turn, right, turn. Two down. Four down. Six down. Eight.

That's it, I take it for the goal, digging my skates in and taking a shot a dozen feet away. The buzzer sounds and I turn for the timer. Fuck yeah! I didn't suck at this. I'm less than a half a second behind Lo at 43.963 seconds. I'll fucking take it!

Chest heaving, I take a seat.

"Way to go, Caulder," Lo cheers.

I smile and we all turn to watch Max. Honestly, he's the one to beat today. He has probably the most skill in all areas combined, the most rounded player among us. We all have our strong points where we excel, but we all have weaknesses too. That's been proven today.

Max, though. I'm not sure what his weakness is.

The bench is silent as we watch him. I think we're all holding our breaths.

He's quick. So damn quick. Nearly flawless. The little hiccups that would cost anyone else a second or two, Max manages to play off as if they didn't make him stumble at all. His bridges are easy. His transition to the nets is easy. Weaving among the barriers is like a walk on the beach. He has time to get right up to the net to assure his win and sinks it, sounding the buzzer.

He wins by almost three fucking seconds, ending it at 40.606!

As bummed as I am at losing, Max is a damn legend.

"Damn," Lo says, shaking his head. "We never stood a chance."

I laugh as I get to my feet. We really didn't.

"Time for interviews. Then we're getting out of here."

He meets my eyes, and I don't have to imagine the heat in his gaze. My cock twitches in my cup and I stifle a shudder. "Yeah," I agree, turning my back on him. No eye contact right now or I'm going to end up rethinking catching up with Mattias. I'm already reasoning that we have tomorrow night, too. It can be postponed.

But no. Definitely not. I'm not putting hooking up first. Even though this is likely the one and only time it'll happen until I retire and I should be getting my fill. Not even for that.

I'm a hockey player first. I keep my commitments.

Glancing at Lo behind me, I mentally groan. He makes it so hard to be strong!