Collide: A Hockey Romance

I NEVER THOUGHT I’d watch a game where Aiden wasn’t on the ice, but last night Dalton versus Michigan happened. Aiden was able to witness how passionate I get during a game. Instead of telling me to calm down like most people would, he only sat back and watched proudly. We won by one, which isn’t anything to be proud of because we’re headed to finals, and playing like that won’t win us a national championship. Aiden’s words, not mine.

“Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

I glance at Aiden, who sits on the opposite end of the couch. If there were a picture for the word sluggish, it would show Aiden and me watching movies with our spread of junk food. “Why? Do you usually cuddle with Kian while watching TV?”

He gives me a blank stare. “Come here, Summer.” He grabs my ankle and drags me to him. Our days usually started and ended like this, and although I’m upset he isn’t playing, I wouldn’t trade this time for the world.

 He’s not allowed to get on the ice for practice either, so we’ve been spending every free second together. Most of the time we’re planning our schedules for after graduation, but we spend plenty of time watching Turkish shows and tangled together in his bed. I’ve basically moved into the hockey house, and the guys don’t seem to mind because I cook them dinner, mostly Indian food that my mom taught me—though, Eli’s still got the title of the best cook in this house.

Occasionally, Aiden and I sneak into the pool or head to the community rink because he still needs to stay in shape. I’m sure all the cardio we do is helping with that. Between my dorm and his place, Aiden and I have fallen into a comfortable routine. One that I know I’ll miss when he leaves.

Amara and Cassie have been coming over too, so we spend most of our time with the guys. They’re all finished with classes, and I wrote my last exam this morning, which means the semester is over.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you?”

My blush must run down my neck because Aiden chuckles. Reapplying to the master’s program had my hands shaking, but yesterday, we were eating dinner when I got the acceptance email. The leftover cupcakes with graduation caps that Eli made still sit on the coffee table. Aiden disappeared for a little, and when he came back, I found out he drove the hour to Boston because my mom wanted to congratulate me with her homemade gulab jamun. I was a little hysterical after that, but I felt less crazy when Kian shed a tear too, though that might’ve been because he ate ten of the syrupy sweets.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ve even processed that I got in. I spent years pouring my blood, sweat, and tears into this one thing for so long, and now that it’s reality everything feels unsteady.”

He nods. “I get that. But you deserve it, don’t let the voices in your head tell you any different.”

Bliss. That’s what I feel with him. “I’m proud of you, too, even if I don’t agree with what you did. I know you’ll never admit it, but not playing is killing you. I just wish I could do more to help.”

“You’re doing plenty,” he says, kissing my shoulder. Aiden trails a path up my neck to my lips, and I sift my hand through his soft hair. In seconds the unsteady thoughts are forgotten, and his kiss pulls at my heartstrings that only strum for him.

“You two are bordering on Dylan’s level of disregard for the other people in this house.”

Aiden pulls away to look over my shoulder, where Kian covers his eyes like a child avoiding a kissing scene on television. “He’s subjected us to full frontal on this very couch. Don’t compare us.”

“Gross!” I scramble off of Aiden. “I’ve slept here!”

“Not too far off from what Dylan was doing,” Kian says, and I find it hard to keep the acid from crawling up my throat. “But seriously it’s too early for all this.” He waves a hand in our direction.

“Is there a specific time you would prefer to watch us?” Aiden counters.

Kian makes a gagging sound before grabbing a controller and starting the gaming console. He sinks a spoon into a container of peanut butter on the coffee table and shoves it into his mouth.

Aiden catches my eye. “My room?”

I shake my head. “We need to get out of this rut.” I start piling junk food wrappers into a trash bag.

Aiden stops me and cleans it up himself. “What do you suggest we do, Summer?”

“If this is your idea of foreplay, can you do it somewhere else? I already hear enough of it upstairs,” Kian mumbles through his spoonful.

“Shut up. You can’t hear anything anymore.” Aiden and I have taken serious soundproofing precautions. We even tried to get Cole to switch rooms, but he is very protective of his hobbit hole.

“Oh Crawford, yes, yes, yes!” Kian mimics girly moans.

When he goes to dip his spoon into the peanut butter again, I snatch away the jar, making him scowl. “I do not sound like that,” I say.

“Want me to record you next time?”

I lunge at him, but Aiden bars me with a hand on my waist. “Watch it, Ishida,” he warns, and Kian rolls his eyes and focuses back on his game. Before I can chuck the tub of peanut butter at his head, Aiden pries it from my grip and carries me out of the living room. “You’re right. We need to get out of this rut.”

AN HOUR LATER, we’re parked in front of the dockside restaurant in Hartford. Inside, I stumble when I spot Connor Atwood and Crystal Yang making out in a corner booth.

“My ex-fling and your ex-fling. What are the odds?”

Aiden tugs me to our table. “He was not your fling. She wasn’t mine either.”

“Should we go say hi?” I wouldn’t dare, but it’s fun messing with Aiden, especially when he gets all worked up like this.

“Sure, we can make this a double date,” he deadpans, taking the seat in front of me.

“Ooh, we could be swingers!” His glare sobers up my laugh. “I’m joking.”

“Yeah, good joke. Come here and tell me another,” he drawls, and when I roll my eyes, he abandons his seat to sit beside me instead.

“What are you doing?”

He settles in. “You were too far away.”

“For what?”

“For this.” His hand snakes up my thigh, high enough that my breath hitches. When he squeezes my goosebumped skin, I squeak.

I slap my hand over his, preventing him from reaching higher. “You can’t just move. The server’s going to be annoyed.”

“It’s not like I moved tables. It was such a pain when customers did that.”

Occasionally, Aiden drops random bits of information about his past that always manage to surprise me. “You worked as a server?”

“At my grandma’s diner. Only for a summer when I was sixteen. She fired me pretty quick.”

“Why? Did you start playing hockey with the breadsticks?”

“I locked Eli in a freezer.”

I laugh. “Working with your best friend? That must’ve been fun.”

“For me. Not so much for him. It was our family’s way of teaching us about hard work. As if we hadn’t spent every last bit of our energy on hockey already.”

When he absently squeezes my leg again, I grab his thigh in retaliation. It reminds me of the ink just below his hip bone. The spider tattoo has been on my mind since the first time I saw it. “What does your tattoo mean?”

He doesn’t look the least bit surprised by the question. “Pulled it from a hat,” he says.

“Huh?”

“When we all moved in together, we came up with a hat of consequences if one of us did something that pissed the other off. We wrote two consequences each and tossed them in a hat.”

“And you pulled that.” The black spider tattoo is in a spot I’ve never seen on a man, but on Aiden, it’s so hot I can’t help the heat on my neck when I think about it. “Did any of the other guys get one?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, the other consequences have been pretty tame…except for the piercing.”

That catches my attention. “The piercing? None of the guys have any.” I’ve seen them shirtless enough times. I’d know if they did.

“None that you’ve seen.” He pauses. “Or that you’ll ever see.”

“What does that mean?” My mind spins with possibilities. “Oh my god, is it a dick piercing?”

Aiden’s neutral face gives me zero clues.

“Who has it?”

He chuckles at my curiosity. “Can’t say. It’s against the rules.”

“Is it Kian? Wait, no. Dylan?” Our food arrives, and my questions stop until the server leaves. “Eli?”

“Eat, Summer,” he says. I stab my fork into my plate. But I’ll get it out of one of them later. Probably from Kian.

“Summer? Aiden?” Connor Atwood smiles brightly, standing by our table with a grimacing Crystal.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in a while. Why don’t you guys join us?” I offer. Aiden’s hand squeezes my thigh in warning.

Much to my pleasure, Connor accepts.

I guess this is one way to get out of a rut.