Save the Game (SCU Hockey #2)

by J.J. Mulder

“Are you insane?” he asks, leaning across the table toward me. “You’ll have to go to dinner with me to find out.”

I feel lighter, somehow. Luke’s ridiculous flirting and goofy disposition make me feel like I’ve spent the last few hours sitting in the sun, skin still tingling with the warmth of the rays.

Sometimes I’d like to hide. If nobody can see you, they can’t see something they’d like to take.”

“I didn’t pick you up,” I point out. “You just sort of attached yourself to me.” “Like a cuddly and adorable koala.” “Or a parasite.”

“Maxy, I’m here, wearing an omelet yellow shirt and an apron, asking you to go steady with me.”

He’s just so easy to be with—smiling and making me laugh, flirting and calling me Maxy, which nobody in my life has called me. I know he doesn’t belong to me, but I can’t help but feel that if someone were to be created specifically for me, they’d look and act a whole lot like Luke.

It shouldn’t be possible to want somebody this badly— it’s not survivable.

“Careful what you wish for, Luke Kelly,” he warns, holding his hand out to me palm up across the center console. “You’d be an easy person to fall in love with.”

You’d be easy to fall in love with too, Maxy.

“Boyfriend, then. Whichever label means that we’re exclusive, and that nobody can touch you but me, that’s the one I want.” “All right,” he says, smiling softly. “Boyfriends. You sure you know what that word means?” “Property of Luke Kelly—anybody who checks out your fine ass that isn’t me, dies a slow and painful death.”

“Good morning, baby,” I reply, because I’m a fucking sap, and he drooled all over me, and I want to keep him here forever.

“You’re not broken, Max. You’re beautiful and kind; you make me fucking laugh, and it’s not like you’re even trying to do it, but everything you say always ends up being what I needed to hear. I wanted you the moment you walked into the diner that night—I wanted to know you, and touch you, and just be around you. None of that changed when I found out about the party. I know you’re mad at me, and I’m going to do what you asked and leave, but I’m not leaving for good, okay? I’m not walking away.”

“Everyone needs a little extra help at some point, and whether you believe it or not, you are somebody who is worthy of care.”

“I miss you so damn bad. God, I miss you. You’re, like, my favorite person, you know that? I don’t even think I knew that until this week, but it’s true. And listen, I know that you don’t need somebody to take care of you, or to treat you with kid gloves or anything, but I wasn’t trying to do that because I think you’re weak. I was doing that because…well, I don’t know, because you’re mine, which means you’re mine to take care of.”

“How do you always smell like sunshine,” he mumbles. “It can’t be normal.” “What does sunshine smell like, anyway?” “You,” he says, and I laugh because that makes no damn sense at all.

“You want to brush your teeth?” “Sure,” he replies, but makes no move to get up. “I can wait for you to finish, though.” “No need. Room enough for both of us.” I grin at him, slinging the towel over my shoulder and brushing the damp strands of hair off of my forehead. He follows me into the bathroom and I fish out a new toothbrush for him. Smiling around my own toothbrush, I watch him in the mirror, enjoying the way he’s blatantly checking me out. Nudging him with my hip, his eyes find mine and he blushes. “Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth and spitting into the sink. “It’s just really fucking distracting when you walk around in your underwear.” “Noted.” I lean over and spit, feeling ridiculously pleased at the sight of our toothbrushes sitting next to each other inside the glass on the vanity. Cupping a hand gently around the side of his face, I skate the pad of my thumb over his cheekbone tenderly. “Quality check,” I warn, before leaning in and kissing him. It’s quick, and not at all the way I really want to kiss him, but he looks absurdly pleased and still a little bit nervous so I don’t push it. I can’t tell if he’s worried about the fight we had, or if he’s still tripped up about me knowing he’s been assaulted. Either way, probably best I don’t jump him the second we make up.

Brushing teeth together gets me every time, blame bring it on

“Seriously, though, how did they meet? I’m dying to know.” “Zeke answered an ad Carter posted about wanting a roommate.” “Mm,” Luke hums, wiggling his eyebrows at me suggestively, “so this was like a one-bed scenario, huh? Roommates to lovers, I like it. I bet you any amount of money that Carter was the one who fell first.” “Oh, for sure,” I agree, and he looks over to smile at me. “They’re good together, though. Sort of like Coach Mackenzie and Anthony Lawson. They don’t seem like they’d be the right match, but they fit together perfectly.” “Just like us.” Luke nods resolutely, and my chest warms at the certainty in his tone.

All last night I was, like, frantic to get over here. I needed to see you—refill my Max tank, and hold on to you for a minute or ten.” “Your Max tank?” I repeat, and the smile comes easier this time. “Yeah, you know, some people need food to function, I need Max.” He shrugs. “Science.”