Line Mates & Study Dates (CU Hockey, #4)

by Eden Finley

“Fine. We’ll do it the healthy way. Just don’t blame me if you grow up to be a stand-up kind of guy because of it.”

“I guess we should start with what your first name is,” I say. “You don’t even know my first name?”

“I don’t know half the team’s first names. All I see is what name is on the back of their jersey. And before you say it, yes, I can read them. Well, except Kvasnička.” “Wow. There’s that great team spirit coming out again.”

“My kindergarten teacher always told my dad that I don’t play well wi...

“My name, by the way, is Kieran.” I screw up my face. “You don’t look like a Kieran.” “You don’t look like an asshole, but then you open your mouth. So …” “Touché.”

“I get that, and I’m trying. It might go a whole lot smoother if you show some patience though.” “I don’t think I was born with that gene.” “A patience gene?”

“How did you do it last year with Cohen?” “Drank lots and flirted with his boyfriend.” Simms shakes his head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re messed up?” “More than you’d think.”

“Can we go now?” I ask. He steps away from the door. Kole’s standing next to Beck outside Coach’s office, and I scowl at him. Oh, he tries to put on an innocent smile, but I’m not buying it. He steps forward and pats my cheek. “Good boy.” “Wow. Could you be any more condescending?” “Yes, I can. Would the good boy like to go for some ice cream as a treat? I’m buying.” His

“You earned it.” Kole slaps my shoulder. “You used your big-boy words and not your fists. I’m so proud.”

“What about emotionally unavailable guys who treat people like shit? Because I’m that too. Don’t pigeonhole me, dude.” “Sorry, that doesn’t really do it for me either.” “Shame. I’m really good at sex.” “Sure you are. Like you’re super good at communicating.” “I speak words good.”

When he checks me out again, I can’t stop the smug look from spreading across my face. “Just to clarify, you’re not into me? My eyes are up here.” “Like my best friend Katey says, I can look with my eyes, not with my hands.”

Because it turns out, I am not immune to Asher Dalton’s flirting. Which sucks because he’s so … him.

Then I’d turn up for practice to fulfill my equipment manager obligations and witness him do some boneheaded, testosterone-induced toxic masculinity shit, and I’d be so disappointed in myself.

My standards have never exactly been at the meet-my-parents level, but this is a new low even for me.

When we get to the hotel, I hang back to make sure everyone on the team grabs their bags off the bus. It really is like babysitting a bunch of man children,

And they’re all in suits. Hot men in suits are my weakness. Wait, hot men in general are my weakness.

“I’m premed. I told you I didn’t have much free time.” “Not even for your best friend?” he asks playfully. “Actually, I see Katey a fair bit.” “I was talking about me, buttmunch.” Fucking duh. “Since when are we best friends?” “Since you parent trapped me. Only best friends get away with that shit.”

We reach our room, and Asher walks straight past me and claims the bed next to the window. “So you know, this side’s always mine.” “Why?” “Because if someone comes through the door to murder us, you’ll be the first victim.” Big, bad hockey player, folks.

“Good thing we have all night to study.” His attention snaps back to me. “Yeah, no way am I spending the whole night doing that.” “Too late. We already agreed.” He hangs his head back. “The one time I don’t have to go home after a game to look after my siblings because my parents died and you’re going to lock me in a room to study?”

I almost laugh. Ever since Coach Dalton mentioned Asher does that, I’d been waiting for him to use it against me. “Am I supposed to give you sympathy now?” “Worth a try.”

Asher catches me checking him out, and at this point, I think we’re both well aware of how attracted to him I am. “Keep looking at me like that and we’ll be doing something other than studying tonight.” “It’s sweet you think I’m that easy.” “It’s more that I’m confident in my skills.”

“You do that a lot.” “What?” “Stare.” “Says the guy who was just checking me out.” “There’s a difference.” I meet his eyes. “You know why I’m staring.” “You want to know why I am?” “Obviously.” “You wear glasses.” My eyebrows crease with confusion. “You’re staring because I wear glasses? I can take them off, but then I can’t read shit.” “No, no.” He clears his throat, but his voice comes out rough. “Leave them on.” “Oh.” I smile and lean in closer. “You’re staring because you like them.” “And now you know what I look like when I’m checking you out.”

“You want to talk gross? You should see a cadaver. At least you’re dealing with people while they’re alive. The human body gets nasty after death.” “I’m pretty nasty while I’m alive.” “No hope for you, then.”

“Pity I’m not your type … right?” “I’m prepared to make sacrifices in the name of education.”

he’s proving he does actually have impulse control. He just never uses it.

I snort, because the idea of falling for Asher is actually ridiculous. “Guys with the emotional range of a trash can really are hard to resist.” “I’m a total catch.” He cups my jaw. “We’re basically playing with fire here.”

“What if I promise not to fall in love with you? Then will you let me suck your dick?”

“What do you need?” He points to the first marking I drew between his stomach and his belly button. “What is the function of the duodenum?” “You have to work on your sex talk.” “I am nothing but a professional tutor.”

“You don’t get any more unless you give me the right answers,” Kole says. I both hate him and appreciate him for doing this, but I have to wonder if he could hold out longer than I could. I’ve already come. I could be totally selfish and go to sleep. But then I look at Kole’s face, and his hazel eyes look at me like I’m a better person than I really am, and for some fucked-up reason, I want to prove to him I could be the guy he thinks I am.

“You okay?” Nope. Not at all. That was … Blowjobs, Asher. It was just blowjobs. “I’m kind of terrified.” Wait, what? That did not fucking fall from my lips.

“It’s not that. I’m terrified in class on Monday I’ll pop a boner when the professor asks about digestion or liver function.”

“Yep. I suck at math.” “Hmm, well, I’m not so sure about the math part, but you definitely have the suck part down.”

Okay, I’m a fucking fuckup and never learn from my mistakes. Clearly.

I’m asking for that little inner voice who tries to get me to make good choices, and now it shuts up? Ugh. Stupid fuckboy did a fuckboy thing. Am I really surprised at myself?

do. His dirty-blond hair falls in front of his eyes, and I resist the urge to reach and push it back for him. What the fucking fuck?

Maybe we’ve both come to the same conclusion, and we’ll pretend nothing ever happened, and then we won’t even have to talk about it at all. Ooh, I like that plan.

“What are you still doing here?” “I, uh, wanted to tell you our study date was a success. I remembered everything and passed my midterm.” “That’s amazing.” When I turn to look back at him, I find his cheeks a little red. “Yeah, thanks. I guess.” I pretend to cringe. “That sounded painful. Was it painful?”

she’s obviously had a big weekend given she’s wearing her sunglasses inside.

In my defense, he’s really pretty when he’s not scowling, and—oh, who am I kidding, he’s hot when he scowls too.

“Does your dad at least let you have your own room at away games?” “You’d think so with the hockey budget this school has. But no, I shared.” I purposely leave out with who, but my voice must do a thing. When I look up, Katey’s staring at me more intently than she has since I got here. “Shared with …” “Asher Dalton.” I try to play it down. “I’ve been helping him study. It was a wild weekend.” She doesn’t need to know I’m not being sarcastic.

The surprising thing is, though, Asher is with some of his teammates talking. His usual snarl is missing, and he might even be smiling slightly. Holy shit, hell has frozen over. “Aww,” I can’t help saying. “He’s making friends.”

nod. “Look at him. Being all social and making an effort. I’m so proud.” And I am. Even though I try to make it sound like I’m being patronizing, seeing Asher with actual live people makes me happy.

“Wait …” Katey smacks her hand on the table. “It’s happened more than once?” I give her the sweetest smile I can manage. “Ah, for educational purposes?”

“What’s the problem?” Asher asks. “Kole! Did you take a hit to the head, sweetie?” “Should I be offended?” Asher’s voice is dry. Katey turns to him. “You are hot. So hottie, hot, hot. I can forgive Kole for a slipup because let’s face it—” She gestures at Asher. “—hot. But I never, ever thought I’d see the day my boo did the jock thing. Isn’t that what high school is for?”

“Stop staring at his ass.” Katey giggles. “There isn’t a single part of me that wants to stop doing that.”

Beck has been supervising the last couple of Sunday practices, but he’s in Dorset this weekend with Jacobs and his family, so Coach Hogan gave Kole the responsibility of letting us in and out of the hockey facilities. Apparently, we’re untrustworthy with the keys. Either that, or he still doesn’t trust Simms and I won’t kill each other.

Ever since Simms and I came to a mutual understanding—hockey is everything—I don’t have a problem with the guy. I’m more patient on the ice, although sometimes I want to strangle him for making stupid penalties during games, but we’re getting there.

Kole tries to shove me out of his way, and I want to pat him on his head and coo that he’s a big bad enforcer, but I don’t get the chance because he’s too fast. And he’s got moves.

“Damn, the future doc has skills,” I call out. “I could skate circles around you, hotshot,” Kole taunts.

“You’re ridiculous. This will go a whole lot faster if you just let me do it.” “That’s what she said.” “You’re such a man child.”