Face Offs & Cheap Shots (CU Hockey Book 2)

I’m used to going hard during the season, but the first six days of this training camp have kicked my ass. It hasn’t been all on the ice. We’ve had to run the kids through gym training and nutrition, supervise meals, and run drills at night. Which means way too much time with Beck.

Thankfully, I’ve figured out a way to split us up. While he works with the goalies and defense kids, I deal with the forwards. It hasn’t stopped him from getting under my skin, but it has given me the space I need to keep pretending like his shit isn’t getting to me.

Beating cocky Beck at getting peoples’ numbers was the highlight of my week. Any asshole can down some beer, but I more than doubled him with numbers, and I know that hit him hard. Fuck him and that virgin comment.

I don’t flaunt my hookups like he does or have anywhere near as many, but that doesn’t mean I’m inexperienced.

I’ve been with plenty of chicks.

I just don’t see what all the fuss is about.

Some of the guys on our team are way too graphic about what they get up to at night, and yeah, I play their game to an extent, but I’m not about to pony up details. It’s bad enough that I feel pressured to hook up with people when casual isn’t my style, but I’m sick of the shit they give me for not sleeping my way through the puck bunnies on campus.

When I get back to my dorm after camp activities for the day, I shower and mentally prepare myself for whatever bullshit Cohen has planned for tonight. Apparently we’re meeting in the quad at ten thirty which doesn’t fill me with a whole lot of confidence. Still, if I can win whatever crap they have planned, I’ll be one up. Then I only need to take out one of the next two wins to shut Beck up for good.

It by no means guarantees getting captain, but it’ll be a good start.

I’ve sent Cohen to supervise dinner because I figure I need to get payback in advance for whatever’s coming, if the knowing look he gave me at the end of practice was any indication.

I’m way too antsy to wait it out though, so by the time it hits ten I head down. Surprisingly, I’m not the first one there.

Rossi and Cohen are chatting with Beck, who’s sitting against a metal water fountain.

“Why do I feel like I’m walking into a trap?”

The look Cohen and Rossi share sinks lead into my gut.

Beck looks completely unruffled as usual, and if I’m honest, out of the two of us, he looks primed for leadership. Perfectly styled blond hair, steady stare, lips that always seem to be smiling. After getting out of the shower, I barely ran my hand through my hair, and now it’s dried however the hell it wanted.

He might have the look, but I have the brains.

I’m not gonna give up now. “All right, we’re here, let’s do this.”

“Not yet, Topher,” Rossi says.

I grit my teeth. “That’s really caught on, huh?” I try to keep my voice light because no way am I letting Beck see the way his shit gets to me. But the fact he’s got the team started on it is yet more evidence of his influence over them.

“It reminds me of gopher,” Cohen says. Him having my back makes it slightly less annoying. “But, yeah, no starting yet. Still more people to come.”

“More people” turns out to be the entire team that is here for the summer. I’m told to sit with Beck, so I take the farthest spot on the fountain seat possible and cross my arms while I wait.

This isn’t going to be good.

“Thanks, assholes, for coming,” Cohen says. “I know everyone is keen as hell to see what these two idiots will be doing.”

I look over at Beck at the same time as he turns to me, and I scowl at him before I catch myself. His entire face lights up. Fucker. He loves pissing me off, and I’ve been doing so well at not giving him the satisfaction, but he refuses to leave me alone and it’s getting harder by the minute.

The confident bastard raises his eyebrows at me. He clearly thinks he’s going to win this one.

“So tonight, our two bitches—ah, captains—are going to go for a little run.”

I force my attention away from Beck and back to Cohen, sure there’s got to be more.

“From here to the south parking lot.” He winks at me. “Naked.”

Of course. He’d mentioned streaking the other night, but I never thought they’d go through with it. “Vetoed. If we get caught, we’ll be in shit.”

Rossi shrugs. “You can bow out of any challenge at any time. No one’s forcing you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“But we all know a good streak is part of college tradition,” Cohen cuts in. “Can you really say you’ve lived until you’ve seen a teammate buck naked, running across campus?”

“Yes. I honestly can.”

Beck jumps to his feet. “Chicken out, then. I’ve got this one covered.” He reaches to peel off his shirt, and all I can do is sit there and watch the shameless display. Somehow his pecs look even bigger in the filtered light than they do under the harsh fluorescents of the locker rooms. Not that I’ve taken much notice before. At all. It was purely for research purposes.

I still have no clue if I’m gonna be part of this, but if I’m not, it’ll mean passing him the win on a platter.

I can’t do it.

“Like what you see, Jacobs?”

I jolt as Beck blows me a kiss and I realize I’m still staring at him. My mouth is too dry to respond, so I stand and whip off my shirt too. Grant did say to try and enjoy this.

“How do we know who wins?” I ask.

“First one there and back.”

“And how will you know Beck hasn’t cheated?”

“We’ve got Simms waiting down there. He’ll text us when you’re on the way back.”

Smart.

If this is only the third task, I hate to think of what the next two might be.

There’s movement in the corner of my eye, and I can’t stop from looking over as Beck shoves his shorts and briefs down in one go. I get an eyeful of moonlit white ass cheeks. His dark tan line runs along right above his ass crack, and the complete color difference has always drawn my eye.

My cock twitches, and I quickly look away. I’ve always been an ass man. It’s a damn pity that particular ass belongs to someone as grating as him.

And as, ah, male as him too.

I block it out and flick the button on my shorts.

Shit. I guess this is happening. I shove my clothes off as quickly as Beck did. It shouldn’t be so weird to be standing naked in front of these guys when I’ve done it a thousand times already, but this time is noticeably different.

The laughing from some of the team isn’t doing much for my confidence.

“Feeling cold, Topher?” Beck asks.

I flip him off. “Quit checking out my dick.”

“I would if I could actually see it.”

I open my mouth to retort, then remind myself I’m not doing that anymore. It’s physically painful to hold back, so I force a short laugh and turn my back on him, ignoring the heat in my gut.

Beck is standing there like some homoerotic statue, letting it all hang out, while I subtly position my hands in front of my not at all small junk.

How he manages to get me so angry, so easily, I’ll never understand.

“Ready, guys?” Cohen asks.

I nod stiffly.

“Okay, then. Ready, set, go!”

I take off at a run, praying it’s late enough that the only people we run into are drunk college students. Security does minimal laps during summer, but it’d be my luck to run right into one of them.

Beck is just behind me, but I know it won’t take him long to catch up. We’re evenly matched with pretty much everything athletically related.

His heavy footfalls and breathing are gaining on me, and as I expect him to come up beside me, hands grab my bicep. Before I know what’s happening, he swings me to the side, and I fall off-balance. My shoulder slams into the grass.

“Asshole.” I jump straight back up and follow.

Only, now I’m behind him, that tan line is taunting me. His ass flexes with each stride, and the muscles across his back rise and dip with every movement.

The familiar prickling in my balls warns me to pull my stare away from the display, before this whole situation gets any more awkward than it already is.

In my defense, put possibly the finest ass in existence in front of any man and he’s bound to get distracted.

I have to put the game first.

No distractions. Eyes on the W.

I push harder, concentrating ahead of Beck, and can feel myself start to gain on him. He’s still a pace or two ahead by the time we hit the parking lot, and the run back is all uphill.

I barely acknowledge Simms or his catcalls as I turn and start to hightail it in the opposite direction. I was faster on the turn, and I’m barely a breath away from Beck.

“That was a cheap shot. No more dirty shit.” I grunt through my labored breathing.

“No promises.”

Of course that would be his answer. He’s so close his sweaty arm brushes mine, and I’m tempted to be the one to shove him this time.

We’re over halfway there. And goddamn if our games haven’t built our stamina exactly for this moment.

We pass the science building which should be abandoned, but the second I round the corner in the lead, the main door opens and spills light down onto the pavement.

Shit!

I stumble to a stop. Without thinking, I grab Beck just before he can go flying past me and throw us both into the bushy hedges.

“Jacobs, what the—”

I slap my hand over his mouth and press a finger to mine, telling him to shut the hell up for once in his life.

And then it occurs to me how this looks. Two guys, naked and panting in the bushes.

All I can do is hope like hell we don’t get caught.

When the footsteps from whoever was in the science building fade, I let out a loud breath and drop my hand from Beck’s mouth.

Beck grins. “Embarrassed to be naked in public?”

“Embarrassed to be seen with you in public. Has nothing to do with our lack of clothing.”

He laughs. “I don’t believe that for a second. Don’t worry, I’d be the same if I was a grower not a shower.”

“Fuck you,” I hiss. “I’m not above getting out a measuring tape.”

“Nah, putting those inadequacies on another man is plain mean.”

Do not engage. Do not engage.

I get into a crouch and slowly rise up, peering over the hedge. “You think they’re gone?”

Beck jumps to his feet. “I don’t care if they’re not. The key is to run so fast they don’t get a good look at your junk.”

He takes off, and shit, I’m so going to lose this round. I go to run after him, but then he lifts his hand and waves.

“Hi, Professor Morley,” Beck calls out.

I duck back behind the hedge. Oh God, not Professor Morley. She’s like ninety years old.

Shit, shit, shit, I don’t know what to do.

Damn it. Beck can’t win.

I need this.

I make a break for it and try to block out everything except the finish line.

I gain some ground, but the few seconds head start is enough for Beck to make it back first.

He’s already pulling up his shorts when I reach them. Damn it.

Rossi throws me my clothes.

“What took you guys so long?” Cohen asks.

“Jacobs pulled me into the bushes for some naked fun. I guess staring at my ass did it for him.”

“Except you’re forgetting I was in front of you,” I bite out. “Someone came out of the science building.”

“That’s what he says. I didn’t see anyone.”

I frown. “But you said—”

Beck laughs. “You played dirty with the phone numbers. Imaginary Professor Morley was payback.”

I want to bitch him out, but I don’t know if I’m in a position to do it. I did play dirty with the phone numbers.

But still, I could have had him.

“What’s the score again?” Beck taunts.

I clench my fists.

Murder is illegal.

Murder is illegal.