Face Offs & Cheap Shots (CU Hockey Book 2)

I pray for time to slow down. Or speed up. One or the other, I’m not entirely sure.

We’re already three weeks into this camp, almost halfway, and my time on the ice with the kids has been enlightening and fulfilling.

But my nights have been lonely and confusing.

Because as much as I’ve tried to get that kiss with Jacobs out of my head for the past week, it always comes back to that.

I can’t wait for tomorrow night to be over. The last challenge is happening, and once it’s done, I won’t have to deal with Jacobs any more than usual.

I swear I’ve spent more time and energy on him in the past three weeks than I have in the last three years.

Before, he’d scowl, he’d brood, I’d be an ass, but we’d stay clear of each other.

Life was easy.

Now he’s making my life hell, and he hasn’t even done more than kiss me.

Shake it off, Beckett.

If the last challenge was potentially life changing, I don’t want to think about what’s next.

I need a good night’s rest and to get my head in the game.

When trying to get to sleep doesn’t work because I’m too keyed up, I decide to go for a run.

I pull on shorts and don’t bother with a T-shirt.

Colchester U is a large campus with a continuous path right down the middle and around the outsides. The jock dorms overlook the quad, so I cross through campus and head for the arena.

My feet naturally take me in that direction. Like a hockey mothership calling home its babies.

Running works well at exhausting my body but not my mind. After two laps of campus, I’m nowhere near mentally tired.

I keep replaying that damn kiss.

Jacobs’s lips on mine. His tongue in my mouth. That groan …

I’d sell my soul to hear that again.

No! Head in the game.

I run until my lungs burn, but as I pass the team gym, I notice the interior lights are on. I can’t remember if they were on the last two laps or not.

Making my way inside, I stall at the sight of Jacobs on the treadmill.

He’s got long, muscular legs, thick thighs, that butt hockey players are famous for, and sweat dripping down a defined torso.

I try to swallow, but my mouth is dry.

Yeaaaah, I’m so not as straight as I thought I was.

He’s got earbuds in, so he hasn’t heard me. He hasn’t acknowledged me either.

I’m torn between turning around and heading straight back out of here or going and jumping on the treadmill beside him.

The only thing with doing that is I’d have to be normal Beck around him. I’d have to taunt him and pretend I don’t have a care in the world. I don’t think I have that in me.

Not tonight.

The longer this camp goes on, the more fun I’m having. Which is almost making me depressed. It’s a no-win situation.

Being on the ice gives me a purpose. Teaching those kids gives me something I’ve never had before. It might be that when it comes to maturity, we’re on the same playing field, but I think it’s more than that.

And that’s depressing because it’s going to end.

Then next year I will have graduated and moved on to become the intern everyone sucks up to at Beckett Enterprises because every employee knows I’ll be their boss one day.

“You gonna stand there and stare at me all night, or you gonna join me?” Jacobs finally turns his head in my direction.

I force a smile I don’t feel. “I haven’t decided yet.”

He gestures for me to come closer, and I relent.

We run side by side in silence that’s strangely comfortable for Jacobs and me. We’re either always at each other’s throats or ignoring one another with this weird tension pulled tight between us.

The animosity is absent, and for one brief moment, we’re peaceful.

It doesn’t last long.

Despite the comfort, the competitiveness is stronger than ever. I match his treadmill levels, and then he ups his. He smiles at me, so I up mine.

Next thing I know, we’re pushing our limits and I finally get out of my head.

My body may be responding to the guy next to me in ways I’ve never experienced. I might be having new thoughts that kinda freak me out but don’t at the same time. But right here and now, it’s only me, Jacobs, and our egos to keep us company.

We keep a pace that I know neither of us can sustain for long, and thank God, he’s the first one to slow down.

“What’d you say about chickening out?” I taunt.

“That’s your problem, you know.”

I slow to a walk to cool down. “What is?”

“You don’t know when to stop pushing. I saw you through the window earlier. How many laps of campus did you do before you came in here? Then you push yourself so hard so you can gloat and be the bigger man. You play with boundaries and don’t know your limits.” He breathes hard. “As a captain, you should know when to work your players hard and when to back off. Not everyone can go full speed all the time. Not everyone can party all the time, slack off when it comes to grades, and still get everything handed to them. A captain needs to be relatable and realize not everything is about them.”

“So, you think I’m going to become captain.”

“My point exactly.” Jacobs jumps off his treadmill. “You gotta look at the bigger picture, Beck. Stop looking for the immediate win and focus on what you want in the long run.”

He walks away, leaving me speechless because I have absolutely nothing to say to that.

I can’t tell him I don’t have the luxury of looking at the long run. My long run consists of business suits and corporate bullshit.

“Lock up on your way out.” Jacobs turns and leaves, and as much as I want to run after him, I can’t. My legs won’t let me.

Shit, maybe I did push too hard because my muscles are spasming.

Ouch.

I limp my way the following night to the meeting spot with the rest of the team.

Final challenge.

Let’s hope it’s not another race because my legs are killing me.

Jacobs, the asshole, strolls in like he doesn’t have an ache in his body.

“Excursion night!” Cohen calls, getting straight into it.

“Off campus?” I ask.

“We all know the University of Vermont is our enemy.”

Everyone hoots and hollers.

“And tonight, it’s up to our potential captains to show true school spirit.”

Yup, not liking this.

“Your final mission is to defile the University of Vermont’s catamount statue.”

Jacobs and I glance at each other. Our eyes lock.

He breaks away first. “Nope. I’m not gonna break the law.”

“Technically, being naked in public is breaking the law, and you did that,” I point out.

“Streaking would’ve gotten us a warning. A misdemeanor at most. Vandalism? If you get caught, you’re looking at property damage and expulsion. I love this school, I love this team, and I’d give a lot to be captain, but I’m not going to do something that jeopardizes my future.”

Ah. See. That’s where we differ. I don’t have a future. “I’ll do it.”

“Take my car. It has everything you need in the trunk.” Cohen hands over his keys. “And remember, photos or it didn’t happen.”

Jacobs steps toward me. “Beck—”

“I got this.”

“Meet us at McIntyre’s when it’s done,” Cohen says.

I turn on my heel and take a deep breath. I can do this. Then I’ll spend my last year at Colchester as the king of hockey.

Footsteps follow me, and I don’t have to turn to know who it is.

“You don’t have to do this,” Jacobs says.

“I know I don’t have to. That’s the point of the challenges.” I stop and face him. “One of us has to win, and if we both refuse, they’re going to come up with some other stupid thing to do. I have the chance to end it tonight.”

“Do you really want the captain spot that badly? Take it. I’ll step back. Don’t risk your spot on the team when we need you.”

My mouth drops open. Is that Jacobs actually acknowledging aloud I’m not a complete joke? “The team needs me, huh?”

He rolls his eyes. “There’s a reason you and I are both up for captain. We’re the best players on the team. We wouldn’t have won the Frozen Four last year if it weren’t for you.”

Shit. I blink away my surprise. I never knew I needed that validation from him until this moment. When we won, yeah, it was awesome, but like I’ve said, it wasn’t as big a deal to me as it was to Jacobs and Grant. Hearing Jacobs say they couldn’t have done it without me … I feel it. That accomplished feeling I’ve been missing.

No way I can let him know that.

Instead, I Beck the hell out of him. I rub my chest. “Hearing you admit I’m better than you on the ice is exactly what I needed to get this done.”

I start walking again.

He follows. And he doesn’t stop even when we get to Cohen’s car. No, the fucker jumps in the passenger seat.

“If you don’t want to be arrested, I’d get out if I were you.”

“Think about what this will mean. What happens if you get caught?”

Nothing. Nothing will happen if I get caught because my father is big and powerful and rich.

“You getting out or not?” I bite out.

“Nope. Drive. I have ten miles to convince you not to do this.”

My lips quirk. “I’d like to see you try.”