Contents

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Guide

Contents

Start of Content

Copyright © 2023 Catherine Cloud

Cover Design © 2023 Karolina Polasz

Editor: Laura Burge / literarylaura.com

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are reused in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.

CHAPTER ONE

SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT.

Matthias can’t put his finger on it, but there’s something weird about the bed he’s in. He’s not exactly motivated to find out what it is, though. His head hurts too much. He knows from experience that opening his eyes right now would be a huge mistake, so he keeps them closed and tries to ignore that he really needs to go to the bathroom and that his stomach is in the early stages of a hissy fit. He just wants to go back to sleep. Until he realizes that someone is breathing next to him.

Technically, this is a normal thing—people breathe. Except he has his own hotel room and nobody else should be breathing. Did one of the guys accidentally follow him into his room and fall asleep? Okay, he has to open his eyes and find out so he can chirp him for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, opening his eyes really is a mistake. And not just because the sun is offensively bright and making his headache ten times worse.

This is not his hotel room.

This is not a hotel room at all.

He’s in a bedroom in someone’s house, wrapped in soft, dark bedsheets. There are artsy national park posters on the walls and two small plants on the windowsill and a leather armchair in the corner.

Matthias takes a deep breath, his stomach going into full tantrum mode, and slowly turns his head. Part of him already knows, part of him remembers last night, even though his brain is still fighting to block out the memories.

“Oh no,” Matthias whispers.

He’s in bed with a naked guy. Matthias is also naked. They’re both naked. Matthias might be able to deal with this—after all, this isn’t the first time he’s been naked in a bed with another naked guy.

But this naked guy is Casey Wallace. Las Vegas Vipers superstar goalie Casey Wallace, the kind of goalie Matthias wishes he could be… but that’s beside the point.

Matthias is naked and in bed with Casey Wallace. He had sex with Casey Wallace. He remembers having sex with Casey Wallace. The more he stares at Casey Wallace’s very naked ass, the more he remembers.

Matthias went out drinking with the guys last night. They ended up at some club. They’re in Vegas, and that’s the kind of thing that happens in Vegas.

At least when you’re here for fun. He doesn’t do this during the season, but in November when the team was in town for a game, some of the guys decided they’d come back once the season was over. When they didn’t make it past the second round, they booked their flight two hours after they were done with their exit interviews and Matthias decided to tag along.

Six of them hopped on a plane, checked into the New York, New York hotel and two hours later, Matthias was getting shit-faced with the boys. He can’t even say that he deserved to get shit-faced with the boys, because he spent the entirety of both their playoff rounds sitting on the bench, catching exactly one stray puck that might have otherwise broken a trainer’s nose. That’s the grand total of his accomplishments.

He was mostly drowning himself in alcohol so he wouldn’t drown in self-pity instead. He was drinking something out of a guitar-shaped cup. He got refills. Many, many refills. He remembers wandering down the Strip with the guys sometime around midnight. He remembers wandering into some club, and running into a bunch of Vipers players, who’d gotten eliminated from the playoffs one day before them.

They bought each other drinks. He kissed Casey Wallace.

He sincerely wishes he could remember how he ended up kissing Casey Wallace, but it was dark and there were these weird curtains and Casey’s hands were definitely on his ass when they kissed and Casey asked him if he wanted to come home with him and, boy, did Matthias want to.

Most of the time, he doesn’t sleep with guys. It’s not feasible. He’s bi and he’s never had trouble meeting girls, but that doesn’t mean it never happens. Occasionally, a situation like this one arises, but it’s for the best if this doesn’t get out. For both of them.

Matthias might sneak out if it was someone else, but he needs to make sure that they’re on the same page here. And then he’ll fuck off. Quickly.

He sits up, pulls at the sheets so he’s not sitting here with his dick out, and clears his throat. “Casey?”

Casey doesn’t stir. He’s lying on his stomach, completely dead to the world.

“Shit, okay,” Matthias mumbles. He carefully reaches out with one finger and gives Casey’s arm a poke. “Ex—excuse me?”

Casey grunts, blinking at him.

Matthias can actually pinpoint the moment Casey realizes who’s in his bed. And maybe also when he realizes that they’re both naked. And that his ass is on full display.

Which…

It’s a great ass.

“Aw, crap,” Casey says.

“Hi,” Matthias replies.

Casey rubs his hand over his face. “Hey,” he says. He sounds resigned. Matthias must have made a great first impression.

“Uh, so…” Matthias looks around for his clothes, but they’re nowhere to be found. He was definitely wearing clothes when he walked in through the front door last night. “I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah, that’s… great,” Casey says.

“Good. Okay.” Matthias nods. “Could we, uh, not tell other people that this happened?” It feels like his mouth can’t even form words properly. His accent is all over the place, too. It gets even more pronounced when he’s nervous.

“Sure,” Casey says. His dark hair is sticking up at odd angles, his cheeks are scruffy. That’s what he always looks like, though.

“Great.”

Casey only stares at him.

“I, uh…” Matthias is going to have to get out of this bed. Without any clothes on. They did get naked together last night, but they were also kinda drunk. “I don’t usually do this.”

“Stay the night?”

“No, uh, I mean… I don’t get drunk and… this was okay, right? Because we were both drunk and…”

The tiniest of lines appears between Casey’s eyebrows. “You weren’t taking advantage if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay.”

“You remember what happened, right?” Casey asks.

“Uh, yes?”

“Because you kept asking me if I was okay and stuff, so…”

“I… yeah.” Matthias’s cheeks heat up. He does remember. He also remembers Casey asking if he wanted to stop and go to sleep, but that was the exact opposite of what he wanted. “I just wanted to make sure.”

Casey’s face goes soft for a moment. “We’re all good. At least as far as I’m concerned.”

“Okay, me too. All good.”

Casey nods.

Matthias looks around for the bathroom. “I’m gonna…”

“Yeah,” Casey says.

Matthias slides out of bed and finds his boxers on the floor. He pulls them on, feeling Casey’s eyes on him as he escapes into the bathroom. It’s spotless: no toothpaste in the sink, no clothes on the floor. His towels look extra fluffy. Matthias isn’t staying to take a shower, though. When he emerges from the bathroom, Casey is still where Matthias left him, only he has turned over without bothering to cover himself. The only part of his body that’s currently under the sheets is his left foot.

Matthias swallows hard.

Casey raises his eyebrows at him like he’s daring him to say something. Matthias has absolutely nothing to say. This is Casey’s house and if he wants to be completely naked with only one foot under the sheets, Matthias will have to deal with it.

“I…” Matthias trails off. He’s having real trouble keeping his eyes on Casey’s face. They only had the small bedside table light on last night, so Matthias didn’t have this kind of view. Casey is comparatively skinny and tall, goalie-tall, like Matthias wishes he was. He has a tattoo low on his hip, roman numerals if Matthias had to guess, and—

“Thirty minutes,” Casey says.

Matthias’s eyes snap back up to Casey’s face. “What?”

“I’m kicking you out in thirty minutes.”

Matthias can’t help but smirk. He leaves his boxers on the floor and climbs back into bed.

Casey wasn’t kidding. Thirty minutes later, he kicks him out, but he also hands him a bottle of water and calls Matthias an Uber. They don’t exchange phone numbers or anything. It goes unspoken, but this is never going to happen again. Which is too bad because the sex was amazing. Both times. Especially this morning.

His Uber driver takes one look at him, says good morning, and doesn’t say another word for the rest of the ride, which Matthias quietly thanks him for. He probably looks completely wrecked—his clothes wrinkled, his hair pulled into a messy bun with a hair tie he found in his pocket.

Once he’s put on his seatbelt and his Uber driver has pulled away from the curb, Matthias pries his phone out of his pocket. He refuses to look back at Casey’s house, because Casey has most likely gone back to bed by now and has already started to forget this even happened.

He didn’t seem to be too fazed by any of this. Maybe he does this all the time. There are plenty of rumors about gay players—quiet rumors, whispers, really—but no matter how quiet those rumors are, those guys are out there. It’s not even really a secret. Whatever team you play for, there’s a good chance that you have a gay teammate. Or two. And maybe a bunch of guys are bi, too, but Matthias won’t guess how many, won’t speculate, because there’s no point.

He groans when he unlocks his phone. He has a bajillion unread texts, two missed calls, and his email inbox is completely out of control, but that’s nothing new.

The missed calls get checked first. One number he doesn’t recognize, so probably nothing important, and the second one’s a missed call from Heartsy. He also has a bunch of texts from him.

Heartsy

wehre

Heartsy

where r u

Heartsy

nevr mind bb says you left to get laid

Heartsy

good for u

Heartsy

just wanted o make sure we didn’t lose u

All of those were sent around two in the morning, but there’s another text from about half an hour ago.

Heartsy

are you even at the hotel dude? come by my room when you’re back

Matthias says that he’ll be back soon and Heartsy sends him a bunch of thumbs-up emojis. After the morning he had, he’s dying to take a shower. He should probably eat something, too, even though his stomach isn’t sure if it wants food, but he dutifully goes and knocks on Heartsy’s door first.

Heartsy opens the door a moment later, snorting at him as he steps back to let him into his room.

“Fuck off,” Matthias grumbles and flops down on Heartsy’s bed. “Ugh.”

“How was your night? Did you even sleep?”

“I did.”

“For a minute?”

“I don’t even know,” Matthias says. It must have been a few hours at least.

Heartsy sits down next to him, the mattress shaking, which is doing terrible things to Matthias’s stomach. “I’m gonna order room service because everyone else is pretty dead and I don’t think we’re going anywhere until dinner. You want anything?”

“Waffles,” Matthias tells him, even though he’s not sure if he’ll be able to eat a single bite. “Maybe bacon. Yeah. Bacon.”

Heartsy made the right choice when he switched to water early last night. He usually stops after a drink or two, always has. Matthias has known him for two years, ever since Matthias played his first season with the Bobcats. He spends most of his time on the bench, except for those three weeks in December when Yuri was injured. Matthias loves Yuri, but he also spends way too much time being extremely jealous of his entire life. Yuri is a goalie machine. As long as the Bobcats have him, Matthias will never be a starter.

He might get a chance if he was on a different team, but who even knows. He tries not to think about it too much. It’s depressing. For now, he still has a season left in Tampa.

Heartsy orders their food and when he’s done, he gives Matthias a poke. “So?”

“What?”

“Give me deets.”

“No,” Matthias says.

“Why not? Was it bad?”

“It was a guy. Do you still want to know?”

Heartsy blinks at him and leans closer. “Yeah.”

Matthias was afraid he’d say that. Heartsy has always been completely chill about this. The reason Matthias ended up coming out to him was because Heartsy enthusiastically volunteered to be the Bobcats’ You Can Play ambassador and ended up starting shit with every single one of their teammates who dared to say anything vaguely homophobic. Not that it happened a lot, but Matthias was still grateful the two or three times it did.

“It was…” Matthias shrugs. “You know. Good.”

“Yeah?”

Matthias sighs. “Yeah.”

He almost wishes it hadn’t been good, because now he knows that Casey Wallace is great in bed and he probably won’t be able to keep his mind from going there whenever the Bobcats play against Vegas.

At least they only see the Vipers twice every season.

CHAPTER TWO

MATTHIAS IS SITTING in his grandparents’ backyard in Germany when he gets traded. He’s about to eat his first bite of the strawberry cake his grandma made just for him when he gets two texts from Heartsy.

Heartsy

nooooooooo

Heartsy

I can’t believe they’d take you away from me :(((

Matthias slowly sets down his fork and picks up his phone. It takes him a moment to connect the dots. Draft tomorrow. Trade rumors on Twitter. Matthias being entirely replaceable.

He has no missed calls and no new emails, so wherever they’re sending him, nobody’s bothered to tell him. Great. He gets to google which team he got traded to. He’s not going to tell Heartsy that he didn’t even know yet because Heartsy’s going to feel like crap about it. It’s not his fault, though.

Matthias pulls up Twitter. He’ll find what he’s looking for within seconds. He follows all the Bobcats media people and if Heartsy knows, so do they. It’s the third tweet from the top. Matthias Brandl to Vegas for a third-round pick. His first thought is that he should be flattered that they thought he was still worth a third-round pick. He was actually drafted late in the third round, too. His second thought is… Vegas. His third thought is Casey Wallace. And his last thought before his grandma asks if everything is okay is Casey Wallace’s naked butt.

“Uh,” is all Matthias is able to say before he manages to gather his thoughts and explain to his grandparents that he won’t be playing for the Bobcats anymore. They’re both sympathetic and ask if he needs to do anything, but he only shakes his head and picks up his cake. He’s in Germany, so it’s not like he’s going to fly straight to Vegas. He might have to fly back to Tampa earlier than planned to pick up the stuff he left at the house he’s sharing with Heartsy and Dally, though. Then he’ll report to Vegas for training camp. And he’ll have to find a place to stay in Vegas.

Maybe he can get his own place. He’s never had his own place before.

Someone from the Bobcats finally calls him half an hour later and Matthias is as polite as he can be when he tells them that he already knew. It’s a short call. No one from Vegas has reached out yet. His agent calls, too. Similar conversation.

For now, he sits on the terrace with his grandparents, their backyard slowly turning golden. His grandpa goes inside to watch the news at eight and Matthias helps his grandma bring in the dishes. She convinces him to take the rest of the strawberry cake back to his mom’s place. It’s less than ten minutes away and he could just come back tomorrow, but she knows that he’ll come back anyway, whether there’s cake or not.

Matthias loves hanging out with his grandparents. He plays cards with his grandma when it rains and helps his grandpa with his vegetables when the sun is shining.

When he gets home, his mom is out for dinner with her group of friends, so he eats another slice of cake. He turns on the TV, but he doesn’t really pay attention. It’s starting to sink in now. He’s not going to be in Tampa next season. He’s going to be in Vegas. With the Vipers. With Casey Wallace.

He was going to see Casey Wallace twice next season. Twice.

He thought he’d be able to eventually turn this into an out of sight, out of mind situation. It hasn’t worked so far, but he still had hope that he’d eventually stop thinking about having sex with Casey Wallace. Except now they’re on the same team and Matthias has no idea how to handle it.

Matthias could try to pretend it never happened. Just forget about it. Forget he ever saw Casey’s naked ass. But then they’ll be sharing a locker room where naked asses are just kind of a thing and… yeah, Matthias is going to have to keep his eyes shut. There, problem solved.

Usually players think about moving in this situation. They think about finding a new house or an apartment, they think about logistics, rental cars, furniture, they think about their careers, how it’s going to affect them, if they have better chances where they’re going or if they’re screwed until they can sign with a different team. It’s what Matthias should be doing.

He grabs his phone with a sigh and pulls up the Vipers’ full roster from last season to distract himself.

They have a backup goalie but he’ll be a UFA on July 1 and they’re clearly not planning on re-signing him. Or he’s not planning on re-signing with them. Matthias doesn’t know anyone on their roster personally. Other than Casey Wallace. The team is good, but they’re not scary good. They made the playoffs last season and the season before that. Their captain is Mikko Koskinen. He’s one of the top D-men in the league, got traded there ten years ago when he was twenty-three and got named captain a few years back. There’s no drama in Vegas. Or at least no loud drama.

Matthias won’t know what’s going on behind the scenes until he actually gets there.

He’s only ever seen two locker rooms—the Bobcats and their farm team. The guys in Tampa were your typical chirping, trash-talking hockey bros. Mostly harmless. Mostly. Some guys took things too far here and there, but Matthias didn’t usually hang out with them. He stuck with Heartsy, because he’s a decent dude who wouldn’t hurt a fly and isn’t afraid to tell the other guys to give it a rest.

And now Matthias isn’t going to have a Heartsy.

He opens up a new tab and finds the Vipers’ You Can Play ambassador. It’s one of the Vipers’ alternate captains. Oliver Kim-Reed. Twenty-eight. From Canada. Matthias finds an article about Oliver and his two moms.

Matthias lets out a long breath, then he switches to Oliver’s Twitter profile and hits follow. Oliver follows him back ten minutes later and sends him a DM that’s just a kiss emoji. Matthias follows the rest of the guys, follows the team, and changes his own Twitter profile. He’s a goalie for the Vipers now.

Matthias is still spying on his future teammates on Twitter when his phone starts ringing. He almost throws it across the room.

Unknown number. Could be someone from the Vipers.

“Hello?” Matthias says.

“Matthias, so sorry to call this late. This is Richard Morris, I’m the general manager for the Las Vegas Vipers. I assume you’ve heard?”

“Hi, Mr. Morris. I… have heard, yes.”

“I’m assuming you’re home in Germany… I just wanted to say welcome to the Vipers. We’re very excited to have you with us next season. I’m sure you and Casey will do some great work for us in goal.”

“Yeah, uh, thank you,” Matthias says.

Fucking Casey Wallace and his fucking ass.

“I’ll let you go because it’s late, but I’ll send you some phone numbers that you’ll need and if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to reach out whenever. And if you don’t mind, I’ll pass your number along to Mikko and the team.”

“Yeah, for sure, that’s… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course. Enjoy the rest of the summer.”

When Matthias hangs up the phone, he’s even more nervous than when Heartsy texted him about the trade. It’s getting more and more real. He has no idea how he’s supposed to sleep tonight, or tomorrow, or for the rest of the summer.

He needs to find himself a place to stay in Vegas. Maybe he can crash in someone’s guest room while he looks for his own place. Definitely not Casey Wallace’s guest room, though. Not that he’d offer. He made it very clear that they’d never end up in the same bed again, naked or otherwise. Fortunately, there’s no lack of hotels in Vegas. Matthias can just book himself a nice room at Caesars Palace for a week or two.

He goes to bed eventually—his mom still isn’t back—and lies awake for about an hour, but he finally drifts off to the sounds of a distant thunderstorm. When he wakes up in the morning, he has roughly a hundred unread messages from future teammates, including twelve from Oliver Kim-Reed, who has introduced himself and his Bernese Mountain Dog named Minnie, followed by a picture of her in Minnie Mouse ears from Disneyland, and several pictures of a house that’s currently for sale down the street from his.

Matthias thanks him, even though he can’t go to Vegas right now to look at a house.

Oliver

will keep u updated on the house situation (for the next week then I’m gonna visit the parental units)

Matthias

Thank you! Have fun with your parents :)

Oliver

fun is maybe the wrong word because they’ll force me to make jam with them bc their strawberries are out of control

Matthias tells him that his grandma’s strawberries are also out of control and they chirp back and forth for a bit. It makes Matthias feel less twitchy about going to Vegas. Some of the other guys have texted him as well—he got messages from at least half the roster, including the Vipers’ captain, but nothing from Casey Wallace.

Which is fine.

Casey doesn’t owe him a welcome message or anything. Even though they’ll be working closely together. Maybe Casey is embarrassed. Maybe he should find Casey’s number in the team chat and reach out to tell him that this isn’t a big deal.

What would he say, though? Hey, don’t worry about all the sex we had, I won’t mention it.

Yeah, no. Maybe not.

When he shuffles into the kitchen, he finds his mom with her head in the pantry, but she resurfaces when Matthias grabs a mug.

“Matthias,” his mom says. “You got traded?”

“Yeah, it’s fine, though. Seriously.”

She gives him a hug anyway. And after he’s explained that trades happen and that it’s not surprising and that he’s glad he’s in the NHL and not getting shuffled around and put on waivers, she gives him another hug.

Matthias keeps telling himself and everyone who asks that it’s fine. It’ll be like getting called up to the NHL for the first time—except he’ll be seeing someone he had sex with a few months ago almost every single day.

He books a flight to Tampa in early August, boxes up everything he wants to take with him, and ships it all to Oliver’s place. He’s back in Vegas already and he offered to babysit whatever boxes Matthias wanted to send his way. Matthias wasn’t going to say no to that. He’s going to stay at Oliver’s while he looks for his own place. Apparently there’s another one in Oliver’s neighborhood that’s for sale and if it’s not too big or too expensive, Matthias might go for it.

He can’t wait to give living alone a try. No one’s going to steal his food or wake him up at six in the morning because they want to go for a run or binge-watch scary Netflix shows in his general vicinity.

That’s what he tells Heartsy when he swings by to grab his stuff.

“Come on, I didn’t wake you up at six. Maybe at seven,” Heartsy says. “And you’re making it sound like I did it every day.”

He didn’t do it every day, but he did it way too often. Matthias is still going to miss him like hell. He makes Heartsy promise that they’ll hang out when the Bobcats are in Vegas, and when the Vipers are in Tampa. Heartsy turns it into a big pinky-swear routine.

Then Heartsy takes him to the airport a few days later, hugs him goodbye and hands him a bag of dark chocolate M&Ms for the flight. Matthias’s favorite.

By the time he gets off the plane in Vegas, he’s eaten half the bag.

He’s so not ready for this.

CHAPTER THREE

WALKING OUT OF the airport in Vegas feels like walking into a wall of heat. It was the same a few months ago. Maybe it won’t be this bad as they inch into fall and then winter, but the August heat is almost too much for Matthias’s frail German body.

Okay, he’s being a bit of a baby, but he sighs with relief when he sinks into the passenger seat of Oliver’s Mercedes after they’ve stuffed his suitcase and gear bag into the trunk. The air conditioning is on full blast and David Bowie is playing.

“How was your flight?” Oliver asks as he gets behind the wheel. “Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need a drink?”

“I’m okay,” Matthias says. “I had a terrible sandwich on the plane.”

Oliver smirks. “We can order not-terrible food tonight. Unless you’re one of those weird people who likes to cook.”

“Nah, I don’t want you to start hating me this early on,” Matthias says. “I’ll make you German pancakes sometime, though.”

“German pancakes, huh?”

“They’re like crêpes. Just greasier.”

Oliver snorts. “Sounds like my kinda thing. Although I obviously take good care of my body and never eat anything unhealthy.”

“Me neither,” Matthias says. “I definitely didn’t just eat half a bag of M&Ms on the flight here. I only eat kale. And chicken with no seasoning. I never drink alcohol.”

“Got it.” Oliver backs out of the parking spot. “Do you go to bed at ten, too?”

“Yeah, every night,” Matthias says.

“Okay, I gotta come clean right now, I actually do drink kale smoothies.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Oliver laughs as he takes them out of the parking garage. “Want me to take you down the Strip?”

“You don’t have to,” Matthias says. “I’ve been here before. You know, a few months ago, some of my teammates… I mean, former teammates—”

“Oh, that’s right, you were here in May. We ran into you, remember?”

“I… yeah. Right,” Matthias says. Was Oliver one of the Vipers they ran into while they were out clubbing? Apparently. “So, no need to go down the Strip. Must be an actual nightmare.”

“It’s not my favorite thing,” Oliver says. “But, just to be clear, I would have done it for you. It’s what Mikko does for all the newcomers and I was gonna do the same for you.”

“I appreciate it, but I also don’t want to torture you.”

“I like you,” Oliver says. “You can stay. We can always head out for drinks… later. Tomorrow. Whenever.”

“Sounds good.” Matthias glances out the window and takes in the cacti they pass as they leave the airport.

Oliver gave him his address, but Matthias has no idea where his house is. He knows very little about Vegas in general. He’s been here three times: twice with the Bobcats and last summer with the guys. He nods along while Oliver tells him about his favorite bars and restaurants and the one time he almost met Gordon Ramsey.

“I want to almost meet Gordon Ramsey,” Matthias says.

“We should go to his restaurant.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“We do need to do some Vegas things before the season,” Oliver says.

“Right. So… maybe a gondola ride and… we can watch the Chippendales? Is reenacting The Hangover an option?”

“Please,” Oliver says, making a face. “When my sister and her friends were in town earlier this year, they went to see the Magic Mike show and those naked Australians that have billboards everywhere and apparently that’s where it’s at.”

“Clearly I know nothing about this city,” Matthias says.

Oliver nods. “You have a lot to learn, young Matthias. Am I saying your name right?”

“You’re doing your best.”

“Do you have a nickname?”

“Matt is fine.”

“A little basic, but okay. We have time to find you a new one,” Oliver says. “You can call me Ollie if you want. Or Oliver. Either one is fine. My moms insist on calling me Oliver.”

They’re going down a street that looks uncannily like the one that Casey Wallace’s house was on, but maybe the houses just look similar all over the city. And Matthias wasn’t paying a ton of attention when he left Casey’s that morning.

Oliver pulls into the driveway of a house that doesn’t have a front yard per se but is surrounded by small palm trees and cacti… yeah, Matthias lives in the desert now.

“Does it ever rain?” Matthias asks.

“Sometimes,” Oliver replies and gets out of the car. “Not the way it rains where I’m from.”

“Canada?”

“Did you google me?”

“Just a little,” Matthias says as he walks around the car to grab his suitcase from the trunk. “I looked up the team. I wanted to know where I’m going.”

“Makes sense,” Oliver says. He shoots Matthias an entirely unreadable look and reaches for Matthias’s gear bag. “All right, are you ready to meet Minnie?”

“Oh, for sure.”

Matthias follows Oliver into the house. It’s not messy, but Oliver definitely owns more stuff than your regular hockey player. He probably has a no-trade clause and doesn’t have to worry about getting shuffled somewhere else. The bottom of his huge living room shelf is full of records, the shelves above hold pucks from hat tricks and other milestones, a bobblehead, and a bunch of photos. His framed draft jersey is mounted on the wall.

“I’ll let Minnie out of her crate,” Oliver says and strolls away.

A moment later, Minnie is licking Matthias’s face and trying to climb into his lap when he kneels down to pet her.

“Want some water?” Oliver asks. “I’ve also got beer. And wine. Vodka.”

“Water is good. I’ll save the day drinking for the first loss of the season.”

Oliver turns around, walking backwards into the kitchen. “Aw, bud, I promise that we’ll try to win all eighty-two.”

“I appreciate it,” Matthias says and follows him into the kitchen.

Oliver hands him a bottle of water. “Feel free to eat whatever, but if we run out of something, you gotta put it on the list.” He taps a grocery list on the counter. “Casey always comes over, eats all my food, and then forgets to write on the list.”

“Casey,” Matthias says. So Oliver and Casey are friends. If he gets along well with Oliver, he won’t be able to avoid Casey even away from the rink. That’s okay. Matthias can be friends with Casey.

“Yeah, you know what, we should hang out with Casey. I mean, you guys are gonna be goalie buddies, so you should meet him. He’s coming back in a couple of days. He’s grumpy but he can be a real sweetheart, I swear.”

Matthias takes a sip of his water and tries to nod at the same time and ends up dribbling some of it down his shirt. Minnie licks the floor by Matthias’s feet.

Oliver’s lips twitch. “Minnie, gross. You have an entire water bowl. It’s full.”

Minnie looks up at him, tail wagging.

“Okay, I’m gonna show you the guest room,” Oliver says. “If you wanna take a nap, go for it. I’m gonna take Minnie out back for a bit. I’ve got a pool, by the way. We can hang out later.”

Oliver’s guest room looks like it should be part of a hotel. It’s pristine. Minnie is hovering by the door like she knows that she’s not allowed to come in while Oliver shows him the bathroom and hands him a Post-it Note with the wi-fi password. He must have taken in teammates before.

Matthias lies down for a nap as soon as he’s sent his mom a quick text to let her know that he’s made it to Vegas. He sleeps for one and a half hours, then he takes a shower, washing away the hours he spent on the plane. When he goes downstairs, he finds Minnie snoozing next to an A/C vent in the kitchen, her tail wagging half-heartedly when he passes. Oliver is out back, sitting by the pool in pink watermelon-patterned swim trunks, legs dangling into the water, taking selfies.

“Hey, Matt,” Oliver says and sets down his phone on a towel behind him. “Wanna hop in the pool? There are towels in your bathroom if you need one.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Beer’s in the fridge. Food’s also in the fridge. Takeout menus are… close to the fridge. Although if you have anything in particular in mind for dinner, you can just tell me because I probably know a place.”

“Can we get burgers or something?” Matthias says.

Oliver nods and winks at him. “Yeah, I do know a place.”

He orders them burgers, fries, onion rings, and a salad—“It’s for me, don’t worry,” he says—then they hop into the pool while they wait for their food to be delivered. Matthias wants a pool, although he probably won’t spend too much time in it during the really hot months.

They eat with their feet in the water as Minnie watches them from inside the house. Oliver is talking about the rest of the team and Matthias is trying his hardest to keep up. He is not the kind of player who gets invited to the All-Star Game or the NHL Awards, so he mostly knows people in passing. He is friends with a bunch of the AHL guys—he got invited for that All-Star Game.

When Oliver mentions Casey again, Matthias nearly drops an onion ring into the pool. It’s not even anything noteworthy. Oliver says something about how much Casey loves the chocolate cake from this restaurant before he moves on to talk about Mikko and how mad he gets when people use his lucky tape.

“You should take a look at the house that’s for sale, like, one street over. A bunch of the guys live around here and we get together a lot. Especially us single guys.” Oliver frowns at him. “Wait, I didn’t even ask. Are you a single guy? You’re still allowed to hang with us if you’re not.”

“No, I am. Very much a single guy.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, speaking from experience, most of the guys who get traded here and don’t have a girlfriend don’t stay single for long.”

Matthias only nods. He hasn’t dated anyone in months and last time didn’t end well. He was seeing this girl, Brielle, and they were the least compatible people in the world. She hated chicken and pasta, which are Matthias’s major food groups. He hated cuddling before they fell asleep, which was the most important thing to her. She never wanted to go hang out with Matthias’s teammates after games, but she’d complain when he didn’t come home with her. He hated the food at her favorite restaurant. They liked each other, but there were so many things that weren’t right and they were constantly annoyed at each other about little things. Matthias wasn’t really in love, so he eventually broke up with her.

“I hate dating,” Matthias says. “It’s like… you like someone and you date them and once you’ve gotten used to each other, you figure out that you don’t actually work together. And then you go back to the start and it’s the same thing all over again.”

“Yeah, that sucks, but it’s part of the dating game, right?” Oliver says. “And it’s not like it happens every time.”

“I guess,” Matthias says.

Oliver pulls a face. “Bad break-up?”

“No, it wasn’t even that bad, it’s…” Matthias shrugs. It’s just that he can’t stop thinking about Casey Wallace. He can’t date Casey Wallace, of course he can’t, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t if things were different.

He really needs to stop thinking about Casey Wallace. “I think I’m gonna be single forever.”

Oliver snorts.

“I’m serious. I’m terrible at dating.”

“You know what they say: practice makes perfect.” Oliver points a fry at him. “And there’ll be plenty of occasions to practice if you’re looking for them.”

“Except I won’t be looking for them. I’ll close my eyes,” Matthias says. He won’t look at anyone in the entire city of Las Vegas, including Casey.

“Good luck with that.”

Matthias takes another onion ring. “Thanks.”

He’ll need it.

CHAPTER FOUR

MATTHIAS FINDS A house to rent because he’s not confident enough to buy one. His contract is still up at the end of the season and fuck knows what’s going to happen then. Maybe he’ll suck and Vegas will look at him and be like “nah.”

It’s just down the street from Oliver’s place and Oliver took it upon himself to help Matthias order “decorative items that’ll make your place look less like a serial killer lives here”.

Admittedly, it does look way better now, even though Matthias isn’t entirely sure he’ll be able to keep his plant alive. He doesn’t even know what kind of plant it is, which is already a bad sign.

As more guys trickle into town, they start meeting up at the Vipers’ practice rink and Oliver dutifully introduces him to his new teammates.

Casey hasn’t made an appearance yet.

It isn’t much of an issue because that way Matthias gets some extra practice between the pipes. He still almost asks Oliver about Casey at least a dozen times. He keeps talking himself out of it and instead puts his five brain cells to good use.

A few days before the start of training camp, one of their alternate captains, Emmett Cooper, invites them all to a party at his place. Oliver tells him on the way there to stay away from any and all tequila-related beverages. “I’ve thrown up in every bathroom in Coop’s house,” Oliver says, voice low so their Uber driver won’t hear.

As soon as they get to Coop’s, Matthias understands that this isn’t a regular team party—definitely not the kind of team party they used to have back in Florida. It’s a party for the team, for the WAGs, for their friends, for people who have nothing to do with the Vipers and just happen to know someone who knows someone who got invited to the party.

“Oh,” Matthias says as they walk up to the house.

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing,” Oliver says. “Just make sure you don’t get shit-faced and accidentally get married.”

“I… what?”

“I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Matthias sticks with Oliver, who drags him straight to the massive kitchen. Apparently it’s the safest place in the house.

“Believe me,” Oliver says. “I have seen things. The later it gets, the further away you want to be from all the other rooms, basically. Don’t get naked in the hot tub. Don’t let anyone talk you into playing strip poker.”

“I don’t even know how to play normal poker.”

“Okay, yeah, so definitely don’t let anyone talk you into playing strip poker.”

The kitchen is empty except for Sid and Bolt, who are eating chocolate ice cream straight out of the tub next to an open bottle of champagne. “Oh good, you started early,” Oliver says and pours himself a glass.

“I already used that,” Sid says and points to the glass.

Oliver takes a sip anyway.

“Want some ice cream, Brandy?” Bolt says and holds out a spoon to Matthias. “It’s clean.”

Matthias takes it, thankful when Oliver grabs him a bowl, clearly acquainted with this kitchen. It’s all marble, spotless, except where Bolt and Sid have spilled champagne on the counter. Coop doesn’t strike Matthias as the kind of person who cooks.

Sid nudges a box of rainbow sprinkles closer to Matthias, nearly spilling them into the champagne puddle.

“How are you already drunk?” Matthias asks him.

“It’s a gift,” Sid says. “Gotta catch up, Brandy. You want a drink? Do you want a”—he waggles his eyebrows—“brandy?”

“No, I…” Matthias shrugs. He’s stuck with that nickname, isn’t he? “Rum? Coke?”

“Rum’s right over there, Coke’s in the fridge.”

Matthias pours himself a drink and goes easy on the rum, because he doesn’t want to accidentally get married to anyone. That’s what he sticks with until Coop himself shows up and mixes Matthias’s drink for him. And it’s, like, half rum.

Oliver, face red, giggles in Matthias’s vague direction when he makes a face behind Coop’s back. He’s so not finishing that one.

When Sid starts talking to them in French, Oliver decides that it’s time to go and drags Matthias along, past all those people Matthias has never met before. Some are lingering in the foyer, but many have gathered in the living room, the music so loud that a conversation is practically impossible, and it’s all bass, making Matthias’s heart flutter unpleasantly. A few more people are gathered around the pool in the back, chatting, feet in the water.

That’s where a gaggle of women pulls them aside, asking Oliver to introduce his friend. The women, it turns out, are a bunch of wives and girlfriends and they all hug Matthias and welcome him to the team. He does shots with the wives and girlfriends, because he’s polite and he wants them to like him, which is probably a character flaw.

By the time they move on, Matthias’s brain feels like it’s about to liquify. He really needs to eat something, otherwise he’ll die.

“You won’t die,” Oliver says.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Oh my God, don’t say I didn’t warn you tomorrow morning.”

It takes Oliver less than five minutes to procure an entire pizza from somewhere—“Is there a secret pizza stash?”—and after two slices Matthias wants nothing more than to lie down. He’s licking tomato sauce off his fingers when Sid tosses his pizza slice on the counter and yells, “It’s my booooy!”

“Wha—” Matthias turns to look over his shoulder, his entire body reeling from the sudden movement.

Sid’s boy is in the doorway. Sid’s boy is, evidently, Casey Wallace.

There he is. Dark hair shaggy, cheeks scruffy, wearing a loose-fitting shirt, skinny jeans, and sunglasses on the top of his head. He is, unfortunately, the hottest guy Matthias has ever seen.

“Hey, heeeey,” Oliver says and slides right into Casey’s arms. “Since when are you back?”

“Since five hours ago,” Casey says. His eyes meet Matthias’s briefly before they settle back on Oliver, who fits right under his chin.

“Wallie, hey, this is Brandy,” Bolt says. “He’s new. Which you know, obviously, but I didn’t see you say hi in the group chat.”

“Hey,” Matthias says. And waves. Which—God, why did he drink alcohol tonight?

“Yeah, hey,” Casey says.

“Is Jannik here?” Sid says. “He’s new, too. He’s very tall.”

“So tall,” Bolt agrees.

“Not taller than you, though, Wallie.”

“I saw him earlier,” Oliver says. “He was… busy.”

Sid grins. “Oh, busy.”

“How old is he?” Bolt says. “He looks too young to be busy with anything.”

“He’s twenty-nine,” Oliver says.

“Seriously? He’s older than me?” Bolt frowns. He turns to Matthias. “How old are you? You look like a baby.”

“I’m not a baby,” Matthias says, his cheeks growing hot.

Sid pokes his cheek. “Yes, you are.”

Matthias swats at him, nearly falling off his chair. What a way to make a first—or second?—impression.

“Can you even grow a beard?” Sid asks.

Matthias doesn’t reply and decides to pout instead, because he’s terrible at the beard business but Sid didn’t have to say it. Especially not so that Casey could hear it. Casey clearly has no trouble growing a beard.

“I’m gonna go find Coop,” Casey says and retreats.

The only reason Matthias doesn’t look at his ass is that he walks away backwards. Matthias definitely shouldn’t be looking at his ass anyway. Because they’re teammates now. He can’t look at teammates’ asses. Even though Casey’s ass is probably a special case.

“Hey, Wallie, if you see Theresa, tell her I wanna go to bed,” Sid shouts after him. He tilts his head and pillows it on Matthias’s shoulder. “I’m an old man, Brandy. When you’re my age, you’ll see how it is. You’ll want to sleep all the time.”

“When I’m… thirty-two?”

“Just wait until you have kids,” Bolt says.

“What do you know about having kids?” Oliver asks. “You’re single.”

“Remember when I offered to babysit Greenie’s kids? I have seen hell. I’ve never wanted to sleep as much as I did after spending three hours with those children.”

“That’s because Greenie’s kids are demons.”

“Yeah, Brandy, don’t ever offer to babysit Greenie’s kids.”

“I don’t think anyone should trust me with their children,” Matthias says. He doesn’t even understand children. Literally. Especially when they’re small and they mumble or don’t know how to say words yet. Total mystery.

“Hey,” Bolt says and pulls open the freezer. “Do you think Coop has dinosaur chicken nuggets?”

“I bet he does,” Sid says and slides off his chair. “I’m gonna preheat the oven.”

Matthias frowns at Oliver. “Are they seriously making chicken nuggets?”

Oliver only rolls his eyes, like he’s been here before, like he’s seen this, like he won’t even comment because there’s no point.

Half an hour later, Bolt and Oliver, who was only just rolling his eyes about all of this, are munching on dinosaur chicken nuggets and Sid is telling his girlfriend that he doesn’t want to go home yet.

“Wallie said you wanted to go to bed,” she says, amused.

“I didn’t think Wallie was actually gonna tell you that.”

Matthias steals a chicken nugget. So does Sid.

“The fuck,” Coop says when he returns to the kitchen, two very tall and very blonde girls in tow.

“Why do you have chicken nuggets, Coop?” Oliver says. “Those are so bad for you.”

“I don’t eat chicken nuggets. I just keep them around because I know you guys can’t resist the freezer.” Coop wraps his arm around one of the blonde girls. “I only eat what my nutritionist recommends. And some other things. If you know what I mean.”

“The gods are punishing me,” Bolt says softly.

Coop gets his friends—or friends with benefits?—some of the expensive champagne he keeps in the fridge and they take off again.

Matthias thinks about following them to see if Casey is still around. To see if… he doesn’t even know. See if things are good between them? Make sure this isn’t going to be weird for either of them? Or maybe Matthias would be making it weird by bringing it up. He shouldn’t say anything.

He ends up going to the bathroom a little while later but finds the kitchen completely deserted when he returns, so he goes looking for Oliver. He’s intercepted by a girl who asks him if he has plans for later in the most nudge-nudge-wink-wink tone possible.

Matthias almost says he doesn’t, almost asks her if she wants to get out of here, but then he spots Casey, sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his phone in hand, so he excuses himself and shuffles over.

Casey locks his phone and looks up, face blank.

“Hey again,” Matthias says.

For a moment Casey just keeps looking at him. Then he also says, “Hey.”

Matthias leans against the banister, his brain still a little fuzzy around the edges. Incredible that the one chicken nugget he had didn’t soak up all the alcohol he so irresponsibly poured into his body. “How was your summer?”

Casey blinks at him. Then he stands up, suddenly taller than Matthias. Fuck, Matthias wishes he was that tall. Not that he’s short. He’s not even the shortest goalie in the league. He’s in third place, which is a pretty questionable honor.

Casey looks around, like he’s making sure that no one’s in earshot, then he says, “We’re not doing this.”

“Uh…” Matthias clears his throat, trying not to find it hot how Casey’s hair is falling into his eyes. He needs to find a way to turn those thoughts off because he can’t look at Casey and immediately think of sinking his fingers into his hair. He can’t look at a teammate and think about having sex with him. Even when they did, in fact, have sex. “This?”

“Yeah,” Casey says, voice low. “Whatever the hell it is you’re doing right now.”

“Asking about your summer?”

“Were you?”

“Was… I…” Matthias shakes his head. Bad idea. Brain does not like being shaken right now. “What?”

“Asking about my summer.”

“Yes?”

“It was great,” Casey says. “Consider your mission accomplished.” And with that, he walks away.

Matthias stays right where he is, the banister keeping him upright.

Wonderful. Casey Wallace hates his guts.

CHAPTER FIVE

MATTHIAS HAS NEVER in his life had a teammate who hated him—at least as far as he knows. Maybe someone hated him in secret, but Casey clearly doesn’t see a reason to be secretive about his animosity. He straight-up won’t even look at Matthias at the rink during training camp and doesn’t say a word to him unless he has to.

When they’re on the ice, he’s annoyingly professional and he’s outright sweet to the kid from the farm team who gets sent down with the first cuts. Matthias gets to start a few games during the preseason and the guys play well in front of him. He gets his head pats at the end of the games he wins, but Casey only gives him halfhearted fist bumps.

Casey obviously doesn’t want anyone to know that he can’t stand Matthias. He’s polite. But he’s just polite. Matthias gets the bare minimum and that’s it.

It’s kind of been ruining Matthias’s mood because everything else is going great. During morning skate before their second-to-last preseason game, Coach Hargrave comes up to him. “Glad you’re fitting in so well,” he says. “I’m gonna put you in net tonight against Seattle. The Lions were a sure thing, but the Sailors…” He pats Matthias’s back. “They’re tough, but I wanna see what you can do.”

Matthias only nods.

The Sailors are beasts. Blake MacDonald, their captain, is approaching forty, but he still steamrolls everyone in his path. His slapshot can kill a man. Matthias has never been in net against the Sailors—it was always Yuri back in Tampa—but he’s seen enough. He’s glad this is just a preseason game. If he gets crushed by the Sailors, it won’t be the end of the world and by the time the regular season starts, he’ll have a clean slate, like everyone else.

That’s what he puts on a loop in his head when he gets between the pipes for warm-ups that evening.

Blake MacDonald is in the lineup, and so is Chris Wolfe. The two of them together are lethal and Matthias is going to die. At least a little bit. He hasn’t been this nervous in a long time and he’s pretty sure the guys can tell because they keep shooting him looks in the locker room before they head back out for the first period. Coach wouldn’t give him a start against the Sailors during the regular season and they all know it.

Mikko comes up to him before they head down the tunnel and gives his ass a pat. “For good luck,” he shouts and continues on, hip-checking Sid into a wall.

Oliver follows, patting Matthias’s back, then comes Bolt, patting his head.

Yep, they totally know he’s terrified.

It takes exactly fourteen seconds for Blake MacDonald to score on him. He was terrified for a reason. Oliver is next to him as the Sailors celebrate over by the glass. A bunch of their fans have come to Vegas. Tickets aren’t cheap here, but they’re a little more affordable during the preseason.

“Shake it off,” Oliver says. “It’s one goal. I’m gonna go score one right now and then we’re right back where we started.”

Matthias wants to smile, but he’s too busy trying to shake it off, like Oliver said. He makes the mistake of glancing in Casey’s vague direction. He’s on the bench with the rest of the guys, looking pissed as hell.

He would have had that one. He’s a genius. He’s magic. The fans call him a wizard.

Matthias sighs and pushes the snow out of his crease with his stick. Coach said he wanted to see what Matthias could do. The answer to that question is, apparently, not a whole lot, at least not when he’s faced with the Seattle Sailors.

Oliver gives him a little tap before he skates to the bench, leaving Matthias alone with his thoughts. He does his best to turn them off entirely.

He manages to make a save and the fans clap and cheer for him. Oliver doesn’t score a goal immediately, but he gets one towards the end of the period, evening out the score. And with every save Matthias makes, he gets a little more confident. He forgets who they’re up against. He deflects a shot from Chris Wolfe and gets his glove on a shot from Blake MacDonald.

Before he knows it, the horn sounds for the end of the first, and Matthias heads back down the tunnel.

The rest of the game is a blur. Matthias gets scored on one more time in the third, on the power play, and he doesn’t stand a chance with that one. He knows it, his team knows it, Coach knows it. His teammates score three other goals, so they head off the ice with a mostly satisfying 4–2 win. Matthias gets his line of head pats, with Oliver practically jumping into his arms and Casey grunting at him and giving him a quick pat.

“Brandy, you’re a beauty,” Oliver says when he pulls out of his parking spot after the game. He gave Matthias a ride to the arena. He offered after morning skate, probably because he could tell that Matthias was two seconds away from (very much figuratively) shitting his pants.

Matthias still hasn’t figured out how to reply when people say nice things about him, so he just smiles and ducks his head.

“Seriously, that save you made in the second? Some highlight reel shit right there.”

“I don’t even know how I did that,” Matthias says.

“You did it with your magic hands.” Oliver whoops as they head out of the parking garage. “This season is gonna be amaaazing. We’ve got two wizards now.”

“Don’t jinx it.”

“Oh, are you superstitious?”

“No, just…” Matthias snaps his mouth shut. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Matthias doesn’t reply.

Which was a mistake because Oliver seems to have a sixth sense for drama. If someone isn’t acting the way they usually do, he notices immediately. He took one look at Greenie the other day and said, “What’s wrong with him?” Matthias hadn’t noticed anything off. As it turned out, Greenie’s dad is sick and Oliver somehow figured it out by looking at him for three seconds.

Matthias should have known that Oliver would figure him out as well.

“What?” Oliver says.

“Nothing.”

“No, don’t bullshit me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s silly,” Matthias mumbles. “And I can deal, so forget about it.”

“Brandy, we don’t do that here. We don’t deal with shit on our own, we’re a family and we help each other out.”

Matthias heaves a sigh. Fine. Whatever. Oliver wants the truth? Matthias will give him the truth. “Casey hates me.”

Oliver is very, very quiet.

“I told you, it’s silly.”

“I don’t think he hates you,” Oliver says. “He’s just a bit of a grump sometimes. He’s not a touchy-feely guy.”

“He won’t even talk to me.”

Again, Oliver is quiet for a moment. “Give him a few more days? He’s always pissed when he comes back after the summer. His family isn’t… they’re not the easiest people.”

“Hm,” Matthias replies. Sure, he’ll give Casey a few more days, but he’s pretty sure that Casey looking at him with dagger eyes every time they’re in the same room has nothing to do with him having a difficult family.

“It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

The next morning, he gets a text from Oliver.

Oliver

come over? pool party! minnie misses u

Matthias is well aware that Minnie doesn’t actually miss him, but he heads down the street to Oliver’s place anyway. He doesn’t have anything better to do—other than swiping through Tinder.

Right, he wasn’t even going to look at anyone, but Tinder doesn’t count. And he’s not going to match with anyone. He set up his profile as Matt and used a generic shirtless bathroom selfie with his face mostly hidden. He just wanted to see who’s out there and tomorrow he’s going to delete the app again.

When he gets to Oliver’s, it’s Bolt who opens the door. He’s drinking wine out of a champagne glass. “Heeeey, Brandy.”

“Uh, hi?”

“Come on in, we’re hanging out in the back.”

We, it turns out, is Oliver and Bolt… and Casey. He’s sitting at the side of the pool, legs dangling into the water, with Minnie lying next to him, enjoying some chin scratches.

“Was that the food?” Casey asks.

“No, it’s Brandy.”

Casey looks up. “Oh.”

Oliver also looks up, his eyes narrowing for the briefest of seconds before he turns to Matthias with a broad smile. “Hey, there you are. Welcome to the single dude hang out. We hang out while being single and we don’t do anything about it.”

“Sounds… fun?” Matthias says and sits down on one of the beach chairs, about as far away from Casey as he can be without it being weird.

“I thought you’d like it since you told me you’d stay single forever,” Oliver says with a wink.

Matthias’s and Casey’s eyes meet for a split second, but that’s enough for Matthias’s face to turn the color of his grandpa’s out-of-control strawberries. He should have kept swiping through Tinder.

It doesn’t help that Casey’s sitting over there. Shirtless. His hair is still wet and a few stray drops of water are glistening on his chest. Matthias’s eyes dip down to the trail of dark hair on Casey’s stomach for a moment before he tears his eyes away.

“So, Brandy,” Bolt says, “why are you staying single forever? Bad break-up?”

“Something like that,” Matthias says.

Casey is now pointedly not looking at him.

“Oh, a really bad break-up.”

“Bolt, leave him alone,” Oliver says.

“Nah, it’s not…” Matthias shrugs. “I think eventually people just figure out that they don’t want to spend the rest of their life with me, you know?”

“Wow, that’s depressing,” Bolt says. “So she broke up with you?”

“No, I broke up with her. But I’m pretty sure she would have broken up with me if I hadn’t done it.”

“Aw,” Oliver says.

Bolt grins. “You know, I have this friend—”

“Bolt, no.”

“She’s so nice.”

“And she wants you to stop setting her up with hockey dudes,” Oliver says.

Matthias is definitely missing something here. “Uh, what?”

“Bolt’s best friend from, like, primary school ended up going to college here in Vegas and when he got traded here, they started hanging out again. And he’s been trying to set her up with everyone he knows, basically,” Oliver explains. “But, believe me, she doesn’t want to date any of us.”

“You don’t know that,” Bolt says, offended.

Oliver rolls his eyes. “He made her go out on a date with Casey.”

Casey makes an affirmative noise.

“It was a disaster.”

Matthias kind of wants to know why it was a disaster. It may have something to do with Casey being exclusively into dudes, but that’s just speculation. They didn’t talk about that last summer. Casey could be bi or pan. Not that it matters. Not that Matthias should even give a shit.

“But maybe that was because Casey was being Casey,” Bolt says. “Too broody. No offense, Case. Brandy, though, he isn’t broody.”

“Please let the poor woman pick her own boyfriend,” Oliver says.

“Fine,” Bolt says. “But, Brandy, if you need help, I’m here for you.”

“I think I’m good,” Matthias says. He raises his eyebrows at Bolt. “What about you, then?”

Bolt doesn’t reply right away.

“You asked him, too,” Oliver says in a singsong voice. “That’s what you get.”

Matthias totally just stepped into something here, didn’t he? He clears his throat. “Uh, forget that I asked?”

“Nah, it’s… fine.” Bolt pulls a face. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s always complicated,” Oliver says.

Matthias glances at Casey, who’s listening but apparently not in the mood to comment. He’s scratching Minnie behind her ear, meeting Matthias’s eyes once again for a split second before turning away.

Oliver’s phone buzzes. He huffs.

“Everything okay?” Casey asks. So he does speak.

“Moms are arguing in our group chat about the correct number of jerseys to bring when they come down,” Oliver says. “They’re probably sitting next to each other on the couch and now they want me to pick a side.”

“The correct number is all of them,” Matthias says.

Oliver cackles. “Oh, Brandy, my moms own so many jerseys. It’s ridiculous.”

“Are they coming for our home opener?” Matthias asks. They’re starting the season with three road games, so their home opener is still over a week away.

“Yep. They come every year.”

“Mom Reed makes the best waffles,” Bolt says. “And Mom Kim makes the best signs for warm-ups.”

“Are your folks coming, too?” Matthias asks, glancing from Bolt to Casey.

“Nope,” Casey says and gets up, leaving a trail of wet footprints as he walks up to the house.

“His family’s a bit…” Bolt makes a face.

Right, Oliver mentioned Casey’s family and said they were difficult. And Matthias went and asked about them anyway, because all the people skills he’s ever had completely disappear when he’s in the same place as Casey Wallace.

“He’s being kinda weird today, though, right?” Bolt goes on.

“I don’t know,” Matthias says.

Oliver looks thoughtful. He glances at Matthias, maybe remembering their conversation the other day when Matthias told him that Casey basically hates his guts. Maybe he’s putting together the pieces. Casey is here. Matthias is here. Now Casey is being weird. Because Matthias is here.

Matthias could obviously still be reading too much into all this, but given the fact that they did hook up during the summer and Casey is acting perfectly normal around all the other guys, there isn’t much room for interpretation here. He assumes Casey has capital-r Regrets.

Since Matthias is, at heart, an optimist, he’s hoping Casey will get over whatever is going on with him by the time they’re a few weeks into the season.

CHAPTER SIX

CASEY DOES NOT get over whatever is going on with him a few weeks into the season.

He is in goal for all of their road trip games (two wins, one loss), their home opener (an overtime loss), and the games that follow (two wins). Then they hit back-to-back games on the road, and Matthias is supposed to be the starter for the second one.

It’s a game against the Lions. It should be an easy win.

It’s not.

Things go well at first. The Vipers score on the power play, score in the last minute of the first period and they head into the room with a 2–0 lead. Matthias gets a few head pats on the way to the room and he’s feeling pretty damn good about himself.

Which may have been a mistake. He gets scored on right when the second starts, then gets scored on again a few minutes later. They challenge for goalie interference, but for some reason that’s a complete mystery to Matthias and the entire Vipers bench, the goal counts. The Lions’ arena erupts in cheers when the ref announces that the call on the ice stands.

Matthias tries to get settled in the crease, but the next goal follows a moment later after a rebound on the other end of the ice. One of the Lions’ forwards grabs the puck and takes off with it and Matthias doesn’t stand a chance.

An empty-netter in the third seals the deal.

While the Lions are celebrating on the other end of the ice, Matthias escapes to the locker room, quietly pulling off his gear.

“It’s okay,” Jannik whispers. He’s in the stall next to Matthias and he’s usually pretty quiet, so it definitely means something that he’s saying that now. Maybe he can tell that Matthias isn’t shaking off this loss as easily as he should, even though he’s by no means inexperienced.

He’s just glad he doesn’t have to talk to the media. Or anyone else. He showers for longer than strictly necessary, but when he gets back to the room, most of the guys are still there.

“Drinks?” Oliver asks loudly.

They’re traveling to Denver tomorrow and won’t even have practice, but Matthias is so not in the mood to go anywhere.

“Yes, many drinks,” Sid says, phone in hand. “I’m just gonna give Theresa a quick call, then I’m all yours.”

Mikko gives Matthias a pat on the back. “I’m buying you a drink.”

“Uh, I’m not—”

“You’re coming and you’re getting drinks,” Bolt chimes in. “At least two. One for every time we left you hanging.”

“Plus five for that weird-ass goal that should have totally been interference,” Oliver adds.

Matthias sighs. Well, he can’t go back to their hotel now. They’re trying to cheer him up. They don’t think this loss is his fault and he doesn’t want to be a big baby and pout.

They head to a bar that the guys always go to after games in LA, far enough away from the arena that the place won’t be overrun by fans and close enough to their hotel that the walk back won’t be too bad.

Matthias is the first one who’s handed a drink and he sits down in a corner with it, already calculating how long he should be sticking around. He doesn’t want to be a dick. Heartsy sometimes bought him pity drinks back in Tampa, but Matthias never got we left you hanging and we’re sorry drinks.

Casey is standing by the bar. He hasn’t said a word to Matthias, although that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Oliver is next to him, talking to him, poking Casey’s upper arm. Then he waves in Matthias’s vague direction. Are they talking about him?

Oliver notices that Matthias is looking their way, says something else to Casey, who replies curtly and shuffles away to talk to Sid. With a sigh, Oliver turns around to order a drink and then joins Matthias.

“Hey,” Oliver says, his smile just a fraction too bright to be real.

“You get it now, right?” Matthias says.

“Look, I don’t know what crawled up his ass—”

Matthias knows exactly what crawled up his ass.

“—but he usually gets tired of being grumpy. He’s sort of like a toddler who screams about the sort of thing that toddlers scream about, but then he gets tired and eventually just falls asleep?”

“So, you’re saying… he’ll fall asleep.”

“Exactly,” Oliver says and takes a big sip of his beer.

“Casey doesn’t scream, though,” Matthias says. “He’s actually really, really quiet.”

“Give him some time. He got along really well with Joonas. I think it broke his lil’ heart a bit when he decided not to come back this season.”

Matthias takes a sip of his drink. He wishes he could tell Oliver about what happened last summer, because then he’d understand that this is an issue with multiple layers. Maybe Casey really does miss his old backup buddy, but that’s not all. Matthias is so not ready to come out to anyone on the Vipers, though, and this isn’t just his secret—it’s Casey’s, too.

Oliver buys him a second drink before he’s even finished the first, grumbling about goalie interference until two girls come up to them and ask Oliver if he was in some Netflix show they binge-watched last weekend. Oliver is hot enough to be in a Netflix show.

They don’t seem all that disappointed when Oliver tells them that he’s very much not an actor but a hockey player.

“I know nothing about hockey,” says one of them.

“You should tell us more about that,” adds the other one.

“Let me buy you drinks,” says Oliver and leads them away to the bar. He mouths a quick sorry in Matthias’s vague direction.

Matthias waves off the apology. He gets it. He’s ditched his teammates because he met someone at a bar. He finds Bolt because he doesn’t want to sit in a corner all by himself. Casey’s at that table as well, but he’s easy enough to ignore when the other guys are around. They’ve got five people between them.

“Kinda rude of Ollie not to share,” Sid says, nodding at Oliver and the two girls, who are probably getting a lesson in NHL hockey right about now. Oliver is pushing empty shot glasses around on the bar.

“They’re not chicken nuggets, Sid,” Casey says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t share people.”

Matthias silently agrees. He doesn’t want to agree out loud, because that would probably earn him an eye roll, too.

“Man, I want chicken nuggets,” Sid says. “Anyway, Brandy, you need a wingman? I can be your wingman.”

“I’m good.”

“You have a girlfriend?” Mikko asks.

Matthias shakes his head.

“Matthias is actually gonna be single forever,” Oliver says and squeezes himself onto the bench next to Matthias.

“Noooo, Brandy, who broke your heart?”

Matthias can practically feel Casey’s eyes on him. He glances at him, very briefly, to make sure he’s not imagining it—he isn’t—before he turns back to Sid. “She didn’t really break my heart…” He shrugs. “I don’t wanna date anyone right now.”

“Okay, valid, valid,” Sid says.

“He doesn’t need your permission to stay single either,” Bolt says, his lips twitching.

“Although I don’t think those two wanted—”

A balled-up napkin hits Sid square on the nose.

“Why are you all so mean to me?” Sid says, sticking out his bottom lip. He narrows his eyes at Oliver. “Why are you back already anyway?”

Oliver shrugs. “Eh,” he says. And leaves it at that.

Matthias is handed yet another drink before he’s even finished the one he has in front of him. He gives it to Sid.

“Poor Brandy,” Bolt says. “But goalie interference comes for the best of us.” He gives Casey’s shoulder a pat.

Casey grunts.

“Well, we’ve got loads of games left in the season,” Oliver says. “Brandy will get his first Vipers win.”

“Soon,” Sid says, nodding at his drinks.

Mikko nods. “For sure.”

“Yeah,” Bolt says and knocks his glass against Matthias’s.

“Yeah,” Sid adds, probably for good measure.

“Games against the Lions are just a bit cursed,” Bolt says. “Casey would know.”

Casey gives a halfhearted shrug.

Bolt nudges him. “Remember that game last season when they scored on really weird bounces like three times.”

“Yeah,” Casey says.

Bolt’s eyebrow twitches, like he was expecting more than a simple yeah. He shares a look with Sid.

Mikko eventually changes the subject to Halloween costumes—the Vipers visit sick kids at the hospital every year and some of the guys always leave picking a costume until the very last minute.

“Don’t look at me,” Sid says.

“Yeah, he wears the skeleton onesie every year,” Oliver says. “Maybe you should get a new costume for a change.”

“No?”

Casey extracts himself from the table during the costume conversation, shuffling over to the bar, where the girls Oliver was talking to pull him into a conversation. He actually sticks around to talk to them. He says more to them in the span of ten minutes than he’s said to Matthias all season.

Matthias walks past them on the way to the bathroom, glaring at Casey as he passes. Casey happens to be looking his way. He happens to be looking his way all the fucking time. Only to stare daggers at him, obviously. Matthias doesn’t look away. It’s not his fault that he got traded here and, in all honesty, Casey should be enough of an adult to deal with this. Matthias is dealing with it, too, even though he saw Casey’s naked ass last summer, which isn’t something that’s easy to forget. In fact, Matthias is still in the process of forgetting it, but he’s doing his best and that’s more than he can say for Casey.

By the time Matthias returns from the bathroom, he’s decided he’s heading back to the hotel, because he’s grumpy and tired and he needs a nap. Eight hours of uninterrupted sleep would be even better.

Sid and Bolt are the only ones left at their table now, and the girls at the bar are gone. So is Casey. He definitely didn’t take off with them. Right? Or maybe he did. It’s none of Matthias’s business either way.

He says goodbye to the guys who are still left. They try to convince him to have one more drink, but he successfully talks his way out of it and heads outside.

Well. Not all the way outside.

He stops in the doorway. Because Oliver and Casey are out there, too.

And Oliver is pissed. Matthias has seen him pissed on the ice when he missed the net or flubbed a pass, but off-ice it somehow seems worse. Oliver is pretty much the nicest and most thoughtful guy on the team and nobody wants to piss him off. Except for Casey apparently.

“—don’t know what your problem is,” Casey is saying.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap,” Oliver shoots back. “Why are you being mean to him?”

Ah. This is about Matthias. Great. Oliver said something to Casey. Which is definitely going to make things worse between them, but it’s too late now.

“I’m not being mean to him,” Casey says.

“Fuck all the way off with that bullshit. He’s sad. He wants to be your friend and you’re being a dick. He’s your backup, he’s your guy. He wants to learn shit from you. He’s a baby.”

Matthias is so not a baby.

“He’s twenty-five.”

“A baby.”

Casey huffs. “He’s three years younger than you.”

“Wallie.”

“He can take care of himself.”

“He’s only played two full seasons and this was the first time he got traded and you gotta stop being shitty to him,” Oliver says, poking Casey’s chest. “We’re a family and he’s part of the family.”

“You babysit him then,” Casey says and turns to leave, probably heading back to the hotel.

“Jesus fuck,” Oliver mutters and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He starts typing. Keeps typing.

Matthias needs to make a choice here. Going back in would be weird, so he finally steps outside.

Oliver looks up, smiling at him. “Hey, Brandy. Heading back?”

“Yeah,” Matthias says. “You too?”

“I…” Oliver glances in the vague direction of where Casey disappeared a minute ago and shakes his head. “I guess. Yeah.”

“You okay?” Matthias asks.

Oliver doesn’t reply right away. “No. I don’t know. Yeah. Actually. Yeah, I’m okay. I just don’t like it when the team is off-balance.”

“Because of me,” Matthias says.

“No,” Oliver says and grabs his arm. “Not because of you. You’re not doing anything wrong. You’re showing up and doing your job.”

Matthias doesn’t reply, because, yeah, technically Casey is the one who’s being a dick, but if Matthias wasn’t here, Oliver wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Actually, if Matthias hadn’t slept with Casey, Oliver wouldn’t have anything to worry about either.

“I just really need a lazy pool day,” Oliver says.

You can have a pool day in Las Vegas even in late October. After all that time he spent in Florida, it’s not exactly confusing to Matthias, but sometimes he misses seasons. Snow. “You’re lucky it’s a short road trip.”

“True,” Oliver says. “Come over when we’re back home. I won’t invite Casey this time, I promise.”

Matthias shrugs. “No need to babysit me,” he says. He didn’t mean to—it just slipped out.

Oliver stops walking. “You heard that. Did you hear all of it?”

“Not all of it,” Matthias says. Probably most of it, though.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE POOL DAY does nothing for Matthias.

Floating on a donut for an afternoon is nice, but when he gets back to the rink the next morning, there’s Casey, and there’s Casey giving him dagger eyes, and there’s Casey’s unwavering silence.

Matthias says good morning to him when they both get out of their cars in the parking lot at the same time. Casey nods at him. Matthias will take it—it’s better than being ignored completely. He still makes a mental note to get here earlier next time.

He loses another game on home ice just before Halloween. Back-to-back games again and he’s in net for the second one. The guys are tired, he can tell. He’ll pretty much always be in goal when they’ve got two games in a row, but he’s sincerely hoping that one of these days, he’ll get the start in the first game, not the second.

Every coach picks his starter based on different criteria. Or maybe it’s the same criteria, but some things matter more than others. It depends on who you’re talking to. Sometimes the backup will get the start against the weaker opponent, sometimes the backup will the get the start in the second game, because they’re more likely to lose that one anyway. Sometimes it’s about who has the best track record against a certain team.

It’s not even a devastating blowout, it’s a boring 1–0 loss. Casey glares, Mikko tries to cheer Matthias up, and Oliver asks him if he needs a hug. All Matthias wants is to go home and curl up in bed, though, so he does exactly that.

He texts Heartsy a pathetic miss u and asks him how he’s doing, but doesn’t get a reply, probably because Heartsy is already in bed and fast asleep.

Matthias sleeps like crap and he’s barely awake when he pulls on his Halloween costume. They have the day off with no practice, but they’re visiting the children’s hospital. He got a dragon onesie—he stole the idea from Sid. It has wings and everything. He’s also going to wear it for the team’s Halloween party at Coop’s place.

At the hospital, Matthias ends up at the coloring table, handing out signed pictures of bats and ghosts. He also gets some drawings in return. Casey is across the table, making paper strip pumpkins with the kids. And he’s smiling. Dealing out high fives. Telling jokes.

“Hey,” he says to one of the kids, a girl in a princess dress. “Do you know what’s in a ghost’s nose?”

She looks at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Boo-gers,” Casey says, grinning when the girl bursts out laughing.

Matthias cannot believe him. Either he’s the best actor the world has ever seen and deserves several Oscars or he’s actually enjoying himself. Not that Matthias isn’t enjoying himself—he can think of worse things than badly drawing vampires—but Casey barely ever cracks a smile.

Maybe Matthias should invite him over for an arts and crafts session, so they can finally have an actual conversation. As awkward as all of this is, Matthias wants to talk things out. This is messing with his head. It’s not Casey’s fault that Matthias hasn’t won a game in the regular season yet, but it distracts him. He tries not to take thoughts that have nothing to do with hockey on the ice with him, but he doesn’t always manage.

He wants to play a good game. He wants to be an asset to this team. Right now, he’s floundering along.

“Mr. Matthias.” One of the kids tugs at his sleeve. “I drew a vampire bunny for you.” The vampire bunny is pink and has huge fangs that are dripping with blood.

“Love it, thank you so much,” Matthias says.

He takes the picture home, along with all the others, and lies down for a quick nap, still in his onesie, before he marches down the street to Oliver’s, still in his onesie, so they can share a ride to Coop’s place. Halloween’s tomorrow, but they’re flying out for an East Coast roadie in the morning.

Matthias ends up in the kitchen with Sid and Bolt, like last time, only today Bolt has a girl in a vampire costume in tow.

“Brandy, meet Maritza,” Bolt says, wiggling his eyebrows at him. “We went to elementary school together. Maritza, this is Brandy, our new backup goalie.”

“I have season tickets, Josh, I know who he is,” Maritza says, smiling at Matthias. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Matthias says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Brandy is single,” Bolt says.

Maritza gives Bolt’s ear a flick.

Matthias is definitely blushing and he hasn’t even had a drink yet. Sid hands him one a moment later. He’s taken off the skeleton onesie and is now a pirate, probably to match his girlfriend’s costume. At least Bolt is still walking around with his paint palette from earlier. He’s dressed like Bob Ross and he’s been offering to draw happy little trees for everyone.

“I’m gonna preheat the oven for the chicken nuggets,” Bolt says, retreating to the oven a few feet away, leaving Matthias and Maritza at the kitchen island.

“I’m sorry,” Matthias says to Maritza. “I know he’s been trying to set you up with… everyone.”

“No kidding,” Maritza says, grinning at him. “I’m sure you’re a great guy, but—”

“Don’t worry, I get it.” Matthias shrugs. “I’m not really looking for anything right now anyway.”

“Bad break-up?”

Does Matthias have bad break-up tattooed on his forehead or something? At least it’s not had unfortunate but really incredible sex with my new team’s starting goalie. “Something like that,” Matthias says. “So, you’re into hockey?”

Maritza smirks, like she can tell how desperate he is to change the subject. “I used to play, actually. I wasn’t very good at it. Eventually discovered that I’m more of a tennis person.”

Matthias laughs.

“I still like watching hockey, though.”

“Heeeey, Wallie!”

Matthias looks up and finds Casey in the doorway. He’s wearing his costume from this morning as well: a black shirt, bee wings and a headband with bouncy antennae. And he’s glaring in Matthias’s vague direction, because of course he is. Whatever had him looking all happy this morning has disappeared. Grumpiest fucking bumblebee the world has ever seen.

“Hey,” Casey says, nods at them, then disappears again.

Matthias is both glad and annoyed that he didn’t stay. He can do without Casey being grumpy in his general vicinity, but he’s also pretty sure that Casey didn’t even want to come into the kitchen because of him.

He glances at Maritza. He desperately wants to ask her about the date she went on with Casey. Instead of being a nosy little shit, though, he grabs a bottle of water.

Matthias eventually ventures out of the kitchen to see what Oliver is up to. He’s outside, sitting by the pool with Coop and half a dozen girls. One of them is sitting in Oliver’s lap.

“Brandy, hey,” Oliver says and mumbles something to the girl, who scoots off his lap. He gets up and slings an arm around Matthias, nudging him away from the little group. “How’s it going?”

“Uh, great?” Matthias says, blinking at him. “How… are you?”

“Coop’s trying to set me up with this girl and…” He makes a face. “Sorry, I just used you as an excuse.”

“It’s fine,” Matthias says.

Oliver presses his lips together, glancing at Coop and the girls. “I…” He shakes his head. “Wanna get a drink?”

Matthias follows Oliver to make sure Oliver puts a normal amount of rum in his Coke, and they end up at the sidelines, watching the hopefully not-too-shit-faced people in the pool.

“How does Coop even know all these people?” Matthias asks.

“Eh, I mean, everyone gets to invite folks to these parties—the wives and girlfriends, too. They’re not all Coop’s friends.” Oliver laughs. “But, not gonna lie, most of them want to be.”

Matthias snorts.

“I’m pretty sure he has friends-with-benefit-things going on with at least three of them, but hey, he doesn’t lie to them, you know? He just tells them how it is.”

“That’s…”

“Just basic human decency?” Oliver says. “Yeah. But I don’t have to tell you how some guys behave at home.”

Matthias nods. He knows about the allegations that come up and very often mysteriously disappear again. Or, even worse, the ones that don’t disappear but that everyone refuses to take seriously or even talk about. Although he gets the feeling that the Vipers don’t want any trouble. One of their guys got into a bar fight a few seasons ago and they got rid of him as soon as they were able. He’s playing on some farm team now, but Matthias couldn’t even say which one.

But the rules are different when you’re a star like Mikko, like Oliver. The faces of the franchise. Matthias isn’t sure what would have happened if it had been them and not some fourth-liner who was more than easy to replace.

Matthias heaves a sigh.

Oliver reaches out and pulls up the hood of Matthias’s onesie. “Still staying single forever?”

“Yeah,” Matthias says, finding Casey on the other side of the pool, lounging in a beach chair, sipping a blue cocktail with a little umbrella in it. He tears his eyes away, turning back to Oliver. “What about you?”

“I… don’t even know what I want, to be honest,” Oliver says and gets up. “I’m gonna go see how long the bathroom lines are.”

“Good luck,” Matthias replies.

He wanders about for a while, ends up back in the kitchen, drinks more water, nearly falls asleep at the kitchen island and eventually orders an Uber to go home. He decides to wait on the sidewalk and nearly bumps into—

“Casey,” Matthias says. “Sorry.”

Casey grunts at him. Shoots him a wary glance. Takes a tiny step away from Matthias.

“Don’t worry, I won’t talk to you,” Matthias mutters.

Casey’s phone lights up. He groans. Swipes at the screen.

“Uber got canceled?” Matthias guesses, even though he literally just told Casey he wouldn’t talk to him.

Casey huffs, which Matthias takes as a yes.

Matthias checks his phone. “Mine will be here in four minutes.”

“Good for you,” Casey says.

“Your place is pretty close to mine,” Matthias adds, because Casey clearly didn’t get what he was trying to say.

“Hm,” is Casey’s reply.

“I don’t mind sharing.”

“All right.”

“Okay.”

“Fine.”

Matthias lets him have the last word and stands next to him in absolute silence. A few cars pass. Matthias checks on his Uber. It looks like it’s stuck at a light somewhere, but it only takes a moment for it to start moving again.

“We can drop you off at yours,” Matthias says.

Casey shoots him a look that’s probably supposed to say, I thought you weren’t going to talk to me? “I’ll walk.”

They fall silent again. Matthias should have stayed at the party just a little while longer. Then he wouldn’t be standing out here with Casey. The Uber thankfully comes to his rescue. Matthias checks the license plate, then gets in and greets the driver, a middle-aged woman who smiles at them but thankfully doesn’t talk much.

Casey is quiet, staring out the window. Matthias is also quiet, staring at Casey.

They didn’t talk much when they had sex last summer, but they talked. It wasn’t anything monumental. Matthias isn’t expecting anything monumental now. Just a normal conversation.

Casey doesn’t catch Matthias looking at him, so Matthias keeps his eyes on him, on the line of his jaw. His hair is a little longer than last summer, falling into his eyes. He’s scruffy. He’s always scruffy. Matthias remembers feeling Casey’s stubble against his skin, remembers kissing Casey’s neck, right there under his Adam’s apple.

Matthias shifts in his seat.

Casey looks at him then, his eyes dark. Matthias holds his gaze, refuses to look away. For the first time since Matthias came here, Casey doesn’t look annoyed. And, fuck, Matthias could just lean over. Pull him in, kiss him, kiss his neck right there again, hear his breath hitch.

“Here we are, boys,” their driver says and pulls over outside Matthias’s house.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Matthias says. He shoots Casey one more look before he gets out of the car.

Casey has already started walking away, towards his house.

“Seriously, you’re not even gonna say good night?” Matthias asks.

Casey stops and turns around. “Good night,” he says, pointedly, and keeps walking.

CHAPTER EIGHT

IT’S LATE WHEN they land in Tampa.

Not too late to meet up with Heartsy at a bar they’ve been to a thousand times, though. It’s a little like coming home, even though Matthias only lived here for two years.

Heartsy is already waiting for him and has ordered him a drink. No beer because he knows that Matthias hates American beer.

“Matt, I missed you so much,” Heartsy says and gets up to hug him.

Matthias gives him a squeeze. “Hey, it’s so good to see you.”

“Oh no, what are they doing to you? Are they being mean? Do I need to fuck someone up tomorrow?”

“Don’t you dare,” Matthias says and slides into the seat across from Heartsy. “I’m just happy to see you.”

Heartsy winks at him. “You in goal tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Matthias says. “Probably not.” Or maybe he will be. He knows this team, knows how they play, knows their strengths and weaknesses. The Bobcats have three new guys on the roster, one of them the new backup goalie, but those three guys wouldn’t change the team’s dynamics enough to throw Matthias off.

“Okay, but seriously, how’s Vegas treating you?” Heartsy asks. “Don’t lie.”

“I get along with most of the guys,” Matthias says, because that’s the truth. He does get along with most of the guys.

“Who’s being a dick?”

“I can’t…” Matthias gives Heartsy a deadpan look. He doesn’t want to talk shit about his new teammates. “I like Vegas.”

“Uh-huh.”

Matthias makes sure to lower his voice when he says, “Casey Wallace hates me.”

“Seriously?” Heartsy says. “Okay, now that I think about it, he does seem like a grumpy dick. Is he one of those super competitive goalies? Does he think you’re trying to steal his job?”

Matthias tugs his fingers through his hair. “No, that’s not it. I think it’s just a… personality thing.”

“What, you’re too nice?”

No, he’s seen Casey’s naked ass. But he absolutely has to keep that to himself. “I just wish I could have one normal conversation with him, you know? He doesn’t even want to talk to me.”

Heartsy nods. “Because he thinks you want to steal his job.”

“No, come on…”

“Look, Mattie, we both know you’re a great goalie. Yuri is a beast, sure, but you won us games, too.”

Matthias ducks his head.

“I get it, Casey Wallace is an excellent goalie, but he’s no Yuri.”

He’s no Yuri, but he’s a beast in his own way. Matthias shrugs. “Anyway, he’s not my biggest fan.”

“He should be,” Heartsy says, shaking his head. “But the rest of the guys are treating you well? I know some of them. I actually used to play with Josh Bolton. I told you that, right? I’d be surprised if he was being a dick.”

“Bolt is great,” Matthias tells him. “I’ve been hanging out with him and Ollie.”

“Well, that’s good. And Vegas? You really like it?”

“It’s a little weird living there. It’s… the Strip is just there all the time?”

Heartsy laughs. “You’re saying that like it’s a problem. Hey, can I come visit you next summer?”

“Of course,” Matthias says.

Heartsy nudges his glass against Matthias’s. “It’s gonna be great.”

Just like last summer. Which was, incidentally, the source of all of Matthias’s problems.

“Brandl,” Coach says to him the next morning. He almost pronounces it correctly. “I’m gonna put you in tonight.”

“Yeah?” Matthias says and instantly regrets it because it kinda sounded like he was asking Coach Hargrave if he’s sure that he wants him in goal. That’s not the kind of thing Matthias should be questioning. “Of course, yeah, totally,” he adds.

Matthias heads off the ice first after morning skate and he gets put on media duty. He gets asked all sorts of questions, mostly about how he feels about being back here. Some of the local reporters are around as well, welcoming him back. They’re much nicer to him now than when he still played here.

When they go out for warm-ups that night, he feels off. He knows the song the Bobcats play when their players come out, but Matthias hits the ice on the other side for the first time. His jersey’s white. He’s the enemy.

Around the glass, a bunch of Vipers fans have gathered, but between them are Bobcats fans. They’ve made signs for him. Welcome back, Mattie. He taps the glass as he skates by. He didn’t think anyone would actually miss him, since he was only here for two years. Sure, he won the team a bunch of games and he had fans. But he thought he could probably count the people who owned his jersey on one hand.

“Aw, did you see the President of the Mattie Fan Club sign?” Oliver asks.

“I did,” Matthias says. He’ll have to give them all pucks before he heads back to the room.

He stretches close to the center line as Yuri comes over, knocking his blocker against Matthias’s catching glove. “Mattie. You start!”

“I am,” Matthias says. He wasn’t that nervous before. He is now.

Yuri grins. “You win, I buy you beer in Vegas. We win, I also buy you beer in Vegas.”

“Sounds like a good deal,” Matthias says.

Yuri gives him another tap and takes off. So does Matthias. He gets settled in the net, takes a few shots from his teammates, and tries to forget where he is. He ignores the logos, the familiar colors, the music. He’s in an arena. It doesn’t matter which one. He’s in net, that’s what counts.

The thing is, he knows the Bobcats but the Bobcats know him, too. That is why they score on him two minutes into the game. Heartsy assisted on the goal. The worst part is that he’ll definitely have an apology text from Heartsy waiting for him after the game. He doesn’t want an apology, he wants to win.

Sid does him a solid and scores a few minutes later.

Matthias stops every shot for the rest of the first, because he does anticipate some of the Bobcats’ moves. They’ll see who ends up having the bigger advantage.

The Bobcats score on him again in the second, then they play a tribute video for him during a break. It’s surreal. Total rollercoaster. Matthias leans against the boards by the bench and looks up at the jumbotron. They picked his best saves and added a few clips where he was goofing around with the guys, some photos of signs that fans made for him while he was still playing here.

He knew this was coming. While he was still here, they played these videos for a lot of guys who’d gotten traded or signed with a different team. He thought he was prepared for it, but he has to actually fight to keep himself from crying. All of the guys are tapping their sticks for him and a bunch of his former teammates come over to give him a pat on the back. Heartsy blows him a kiss.

And Matthias gets back into his net. He stops a shot from Heartsy and then he’s not blowing him kisses anymore, but that’s the game. Mikko scores, the Bobcats challenge it, but the goal stands, so they’re tied again. Just before the end of the second, Heartsy comes at him again, gets tripped by one of his own guys and slides right into Matthias. Oliver takes offense to that and they all start pushing and shoving each other.

Matthias retreats and watches them get separated by the refs. Heartsy mutters an apology to him before he gets escorted to the box.

Oliver follows.

Matching minors.

It’s the Vipers who score, so they head into the room with a lead.

“All right, Brandy!” Bolt shouts.

All Matthias has to do is keep the door shut in the third and he’ll finally have his first win as a Viper. He’ll finally feel like he did something right.

Mikko gives his ass a pat on the way back out—for good luck, as always.

The Bobcats do score on him one more time, but it doesn’t matter. The Vipers net three, one of them an empty-netter that Matthias is pretty sure he got an assist on, and once the clock runs down, Oliver skates straight into his arms with a whoop.

Matthias is grinning so hard that his face hurts by the time the line is down to Mikko and Casey.

Mikko gives him the regular helmet-touch pat. It’s what most guys do. Some others will add a hug, like Oliver, or a high five, like Bolt. Then it’s Casey’s turn and it’s already awkward, the way he won’t even really look at Matthias, but he gives him a pat with his catching glove, covering Matthias’s mask with it for a second before he pulls away.

Matthias will not be disappointed. Honestly, what was he expecting? That Casey would give him a hug and they’d suddenly be besties? That he’d say “good game” the way Matthias does whenever Casey wins a game?

He follows Casey to the bench, where Oliver and Coop are standing guard, demanding a high five from everyone who passes. Casey dutifully gives them one, and so does Matthias, with Oliver and Coop cheering for him. The Bobcats give Matthias second star of the game and from down the hallway, Matthias hears a few stray cheers go up.

In the room, he gets the feather boa the guys pass around after wins. The Vipers’ staff hate it because the feathers keep falling off. Oliver told him that they buy several boas in the same color before the season starts because they keep breaking. It’s green this season and Matthias dutifully wraps it around his neck.

He’s seen what happens when you refuse. Donnie tried at the beginning of the season, saying he was “too old for this shit” and ended up with feathers in his gear bag and skates and gloves. They were fucking everywhere.

Matthias thanks the guys for having his back, his face going red when they cheer for him again. They decide to have a little post-game celebration and Matthias tags along without a complaint. They’re not leaving for Raleigh until tomorrow.

He does have a sorry about the goal :( text from Heartsy waiting on his phone, followed by a beer in vegas ))) text from Yuri. He replies to both while Oliver grabs him a drink, and finds Casey watching him as he tucks his phone back into his pocket.

Matthias tilts his head in question.

Casey looks away.

And, for real, Matthias is so tired of this. Which is why, when Casey makes noises about going back to the hotel, Matthias heads out as well. Oliver shoots him a look, like he knows what he’s doing. Matthias pulls a face and hurries after Casey.

He catches up with him outside. “Casey.”

Casey rolls his eyes at him because clearly he’s also caught on. “What?”

“Can we please just talk about this?”

“Not in the middle of the street, we can’t,” Casey says gruffly.

“Will you come to my room?”

Casey doesn’t reply.

“This is ridiculous,” Matthias says. “You’re not five.”

“Fine,” Casey says.

They head back to the hotel in silence, get into the elevator, and go up to the fourth floor with Casey walking a step behind Matthias on the way down the hall. He swipes his card and pushes the door open for Casey, who shuffles inside and leans against the wall, waiting for Matthias to follow, eyes on the floor.

“What is your problem?” Matthias says when the door has fallen shut.

“I don’t have a problem,” Casey says. “The way I see it, you’re the one with the problem.”

“You’re being a dick.”

Casey shrugs. “Guess I am.”

Matthias almost tells him to get the fuck out of his room. This was a mistake. He sees that now. “Are you always like this when you sleep with a guy and regret it later?”

Casey’s eyes narrow for a split second. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry for not coddling you like the rest of the team does? Sorry I’m not offering to braid your hair? Sorry I don’t fawn over you like you apparently think I should?”

“Honestly, I’d be happy if you just treated me like the other guys,” Matthias says. “Like, will you at least stop glaring at me all the time? It’s so fucking annoying.”

“I don’t glare at you.”

“You do,” Matthias says. “It’s not my fault I got traded to Vegas, okay? I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t want to play with a guy who hates my guts. But, honestly, you’re nearly thirty fucking years old. Maybe try to act like it.”

Casey’s jaw works. “Are you done?”

“Sure, whatever,” Matthias says. “I don’t even know why I tried to talk to you.”

Casey doesn’t reply, only pushes himself off the wall and leaves.

CHAPTER NINE

“HOW’D IT GO with Casey last night?” Oliver asks him the next morning. He dragged Matthias along to get some coffee before their flight to Raleigh, probably so he could be nosy in peace.

“He was being a dick,” Matthias says, because it’s too early to come up with something more diplomatic.

“He does that sometimes,” Oliver says and sighs. “I don’t know what his problem is and if you don’t mind, I’m gonna talk to him again when we’re back home because this isn’t gonna work. It’s gonna start affecting the team and that’s where I draw the line.” He thanks the barista for the coffee, hands one of the cups to Matthias and off they go back to the hotel down the street.

“Look,” Matthias says, “I don’t think there’s any point.”

“Okay, but I’d be a shitty captain if I didn’t at least try. I can also ask Mikko to try, but Mikko goes from zero to threatening someone with a knife real fast and I don’t think Casey responds well to threats.”

“Seriously, I know what the problem is and it’s not something anyone can fix.”

“Wait…” Oliver stops in his tracks. “He did tell you that much?”

Possibly, it’s time to confess. Not everything. More like a partial confession. “I’ve kinda known all along.”

“So? What’s his problem?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s… personal. I don’t think he’d want me to tell you,” Matthias says. There’s no good way of explaining it without telling the truth, but he can’t totally leave Oliver in the dark either, because Oliver needs to understand that this isn’t something he can change.

Oliver looks at him. Just stares at him for a very, very long moment. “Oh, no. Oh my fucking shit. You hooked up with him last summer, didn’t you?”

Matthias blinks at him. How did he figure that out by just looking at him? “Um.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Oliver says quickly. “I just put two and two together there, because you said it’s personal and when we ran into you guys last summer, I saw you and Casey together before you left and I asked Casey about it the next day and he said nothing happened, but…” He trails off, his eyes going wide. “He just said that because he didn’t want to out you, right? Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“Um,” Matthias says again. What else is he supposed to say? This is not exactly how he was planning on coming out to Oliver. He saw them together? At the club? Matthias so hopes they weren’t all over each other. He does remember it, but not every little detail. “Did anyone else see us together?”

“No, no, and it wasn’t, like… you were just standing next to each other. You know, outside, when you were leaving. Waiting for your ride, I guess. I just… I’ve known Casey’s gay for a while, he came out to me like two days after we met. He figured I wouldn’t mind since I have two moms. Which… true. But this conversation just totally went off the deep end and I’m sorry, I could have handled that better.”

“It’s okay,” Matthias says. He’ll take this over someone reacting badly. Well, while they’re already at it… “I’m bi.”

“Thanks for sharing that. Even though I feel bad about how you ended up sharing it with me.”

“I was thinking about telling you anyway. Eventually.”

Oliver nods. “Look, I… we should have a proper conversation about this when we don’t have a bus waiting for us.”

Matthias nods back at him. “Sounds good.”

“Well, I can still try to talk to Casey,” Oliver says on the way back. Their bus is already outside the hotel, so it’s a good thing they left their stuff with Sid in the lobby. “I will say, though,” he adds, thoughtful, “Casey is kinda bad at relationships, so I think you’re probably right. It’s not gonna fix anything.”

“Yeah,” Matthias only says.

Casey gets pulled during the game in Raleigh.

And they were off to such a good start. Sid scored pretty much as soon as the puck dropped and the mood on the bench was great, the guys all pumped and hoping for another win on the road. The Comets evened the score almost immediately, but the Vipers answered. It turned into an annoying back and forth, the momentum shifting constantly.

They go into the first intermission with the Comets up 3–2, but that’s not terrible. A one-goal deficit is easy enough to overcome. Coach tells them to keep at it, to skate harder. Matthias nods, like he’s going to be out there, too, and not just sitting on the bench, waiting for a stray puck to catch.

Things go downhill almost as soon as they get back on the ice.

The Comets score, then score again. Matthias can tell from over here that Casey is rattled, but Coach Hargrave gives him another chance to get settled. 5–2 is not ideal, but they’re not even halfway through the game yet. They can still win this. Casey’s trying to keep it together, but his next save is sheer luck and nothing else.

When the Comets score a goal that Casey definitely should have had, he slams his stick against the goal. Lucky he didn’t break it.

Coach pulls him. It happens.

Actually, it happens a lot, just probably not to a goalie like Casey Wallace. Still, sometimes you have an off day. It is what it is.

Matthias gets his mask on and grabs his stick, the guys giving him pats on the way to the goal. He gets into the crease. Breathes. He hates going in during the middle of a period. He had to twice when he was still playing in the AHL. The one time he had to go in for Yuri in Tampa, their coach made that call during the intermission, so he was able to get warmed up.

Going in like this is sort of like jumping into a tub full of ice water. He manages to keep the puck out for the rest of the period, though.

Casey is pissed in the room, quietly stewing, staring at the floor like he wants to set it on fire with his eyes. Oliver approaches him, leans down, says something to him, but Casey only shakes his head curtly, and Oliver retreats, lips pressed together.

Shit hits the fan in the third.

One of the Comets slides into Matthias and it’s really not a big deal. He doesn’t hit his head, only falls on his ass, but Coop swoops in to murder a Comet, grabbing him by his jersey and pushing him against the glass. They are quickly joined by their teammates.

“Don’t touch my fucking goalie!” someone shouts. Sounds like Coop.

Jannik has grabbed himself a Comet and pulled him away from the scrum. He nods at Matthias. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replies. He almost wants to go over there and tug Coop away and tell him he can stop now.

Matthias picks up the puck, keeping it in his catching glove until the refs have dealt with the mess that is maybe sort of his fault. He glances at the bench, the guys all leaning forward, watching, some amused, some worried.

Oliver nods at him, points. You good? he mouths.

Matthias waves at him. All good.

Oliver leans close to Casey, who’s sitting where Matthias was, leaning forward as well, glaring in the general direction of the scrum. Oliver says something. Casey nods and leans back.

Once the refs have plucked the guys apart, the Vipers somehow end up down a man. The Comets score on the power play. Matthias watches the replay on the jumbotron. He almost had it. Those are the worst ones—the almosts. Because what if he’d had it? It could have shifted the momentum. It could have given them an advantage. It could have given them a chance.

They have ten minutes left on the clock. Okay, maybe a save wouldn’t have changed this game. The Comets get another one past Matthias only about a minute later. The puck bounces off the bars twice before it goes in.

Cursed game.

Coach doesn’t pull Matthias for a sixth skater when the clock starts to run down. No way they’re going to win this. Even before the horn goes, the Comets keep the puck behind their own net and the Vipers don’t even try to grab it.

No loss is ever just the goalie’s loss. Especially when you have to go in halfway through the game, it generally means that the game was already going downhill. Chances are you won’t walk away with a win.

Still, it stings.

“Chin up, Brandy,” Mikko says when Matthias waddles into the room.

It’s quiet, the way it always is after a loss, but this one is extra bad because they got murdered. The two goals they scored barely made a difference.

Matthias sits in his stall.

Just sits.

It’s Casey who has to talk to the media, which seems unnecessary. Unkind. Matthias doesn’t envy him and wouldn’t want to answer all those questions about what went wrong. In Tampa, the reporters were always so hard on Yuri when his performance was anything less than perfect. He didn’t deserve that. It messes with your head, too, always being scrutinized.

Sure, sometimes you play like shit and you deserve the criticism, but shitting all over a player won’t make him feel more confident.

When Matthias grabs his stuff to leave, the room is nearly empty. Only Mikko is still there.

“Brandy, you good?” Mikko asks.

“Yeah, just…” Matthias waves him off. “Fell on my ass.”

Mikko’s lips twitch. He gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Well, get some rest. Pretty sure Coach will put you in goal in Chicago.”

“Uh…” Matthias says. He was expecting Coach to give Casey the start. Since he’s the starter and all.

Mikko taps his temple. “I know Coach.” He nudges Matthias towards the door because their bus is waiting to take them to the airport. They’re flying out tonight. “You’ll see.”

Matthias heads out of the room and almost walks into Casey. He’s on his phone, typing, not paying attention.

“Sorry,” Matthias mumbles.

Casey waves him off. Looks at him.

Matthias looks back.

Casey clears his throat. “This wasn’t your screw-up, okay?” he says. “It was mine.”

Matthias has no idea how to reply. He takes too long to scrape together the right words, and by the time he does, Casey has already walked away.

CHAPTER TEN

MATTHIAS SEES AN open door and decides to shove his foot in there. Although it’s more of a metaphorical door.

Casey talked to him of his own free will. And what he said to him was nice. It kind of seemed like Casey was trying to make him feel better about that loss.

When they fly to Chicago, Matthias gets on the plane and sits in the empty seat next to him. Usually Casey sits next to Oliver, but Matthias is determined to keep this door open, whatever it takes.

It’s a short flight anyway, a little over one and a half hours. It’s late and they’re all tired, so they’ll probably all take a nap. When they fly after a game, the plane’s mostly quiet.

Casey sighs at him. Doesn’t tell him to fuck off, though, which is a big improvement. At least that’s what he thinks until Casey says, “That’s not gonna work.”

“What exactly?”

“You sitting here,” Casey says.

“I’m just gonna take a nap and—”

“Brandy,” Oliver says, stopping next to him with a smirk on his face. “You gonna hold Casey’s hand today?”

“Uh—”

“Can you just get up and let Ollie sit here?” Casey grumbles.

“No, it’s cool,” Oliver says, “I’m sure Brandy will do a great job.” He pats Matthias’s head and scoots into the empty row behind them. “I’m gonna take a nap. All by myself.”

Matthias frowns at Casey. He is once again missing something, isn’t he? There’s actually a reason Casey wanted to sit next to Oliver and it has nothing to do with him hating Matthias’s entire existence.

Casey rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. Whatever.”

Matthias accepts that. Leans back. Grabs his phone, his headphones. Ignores the glance Casey shoots him when he plugs them in. Yes, Matthias has headphones with a cord because they’ll never run out of battery. He’ll never forget to charge them and be pissed about it—like Heartsy always was.

They get ready for takeoff and Casey shifts, glancing at the row behind them where Oliver is already fast asleep. He takes a deep breath, eyes on the fasten seatbelt sign above them.

Wait. Didn’t Oliver say something about Matthias holding Casey’s hand today?

Is he—Matthias pulls off his headphones. “Are you scared of flying?” he whispers.

“How ever did you figure that out, genius?” Casey snaps.

Matthias takes Casey in: his blotchy cheeks, his disheveled hair that he just tugged his fingers through. Slowly, he holds out his hand.

Casey looks at it like it’ll bite him or something.

The plane is starting to speed up.

Another deep breath and Casey grabs his hand just as the plane leaves the ground. Casey squeezes his eyes shut. And Matthias holds onto his ice-cold fingers and resists the urge to pull Casey’s hand against his chest to warm it up.

They don’t talk. As soon as the fasten seatbelt sign is off, Casey pulls his hand away.

“You okay?” Matthias asks.

“Sure.”

“Hey, if you’re lucky, you’ll sleep through the landing.”

“I don’t sleep on the plane,” Casey says, shifting in his seat.

“Why?” Matthias asks.

“I just can’t.” Casey shakes his head the tiniest bit. “You go to sleep. It’s fine.”

“I can keep holding your hand,” Matthias says.

Casey shoots him an icy glare that pretty much says he’d rather die in a plane crash than hold Matthias’s hand for the entire flight.

“Suit yourself,” Matthias says. “Wake me up when we land.”

He puts his headphones back on, puts on a Lumineers album and closes his eyes. Usually he dozes off within a minute, but not today. Today, he keeps thinking about Casey, right next to him, wide awake, probably listening for weird plane noises.

Maybe he does doze off a little because he jumps when Casey nudges him. “Hm?”

“We’re landing,” Casey says.

“Oh,” Matthias says and curls his fingers around Casey’s wrist. He’s tired as fuck, which is probably why he drags his thumb back and forth across Casey’s palm until Casey pointedly clears his throat.

Once they’ve touched down, Oliver resurfaces from behind them. “Best nap ever.”

Only Oliver would call a nap on a plane the best nap ever.

Casey sighs.

“Case, you’re still alive,” Oliver says. “Told you Brandy would do a great job.”

Casey sighs again, but it’s a hundred percent more long-suffering.

“Hey, Brandy,” Oliver says. “You and me. Tomorrow after breakfast.”

“What are we doing after breakfast?” Matthias asks.

Oliver only gives him a pat on the head and shuffles down the aisle, so Matthias will have to wait until tomorrow to find out what’s going on.

Chicago is fucking freezing, so Matthias isn’t even mad that Oliver asks him to stay at the hotel with him for a bit. Sure, Matthias wanted seasons, but not like this. It’s not even snowing, it’s just cold. He can’t wait to get back to Vegas.

Oliver snorts when Matthias tells him as much as he shuffles into his room.

“Sit,” Oliver says, waving at his bed. “I wanted to talk to you about some things and I didn’t wanna do it in public. I don’t know how far in the closet you are exactly, although you did pick up Casey in a club in Vegas, so…”

“I…” Matthias shrugs and sits down at the edge of Oliver’s bed. “I mean, I wouldn’t announce it to the world or anything? But…” Another shrug. “I guess when I’m drunk, I don’t give enough of a shit not to make out with a guy in public.”

Oliver’s lips twitch. He pulls up the chair from the desk, sits on it the wrong way around with his arms on the backrest. “So, I talked to Casey.”

Matthias pulls a face.

“I had to,” Oliver says. “I had to tell him that I know. Sorry, but Casey and I have been friends ever since our first season together and we don’t have secrets.”

“No worries, I get it,” Matthias says. Maybe that’s why Casey didn’t act like a total douchebag last night? “Did you talk to him before the game?”

Oliver nods. “Look, I didn’t wanna, like, rain on your parade yesterday, because it was your moment and shit, but it’s not just you and Casey. I’m kinda into guys. A little. You know.”

Matthias opens his mouth. Closes it again. This is not going where he thought it was going.

“I don’t generally tell people, because kids like me very often get the ‘your moms are gay, clearly they turned you gay’ thing,” Oliver says. “It’s fucking annoying. Anyway, we have our little support group.”

Matthias can’t help but smile. “That’s nice.”

“It is.”

“So, that’s why you keep ditching girls at bars?”

“Nah, I am into girls, but I’m also… not interested. Right now.”

Matthias raises his eyebrows at him.

“Long story,” Oliver says. “I pretend I hate one-night stands, because the guys get kinda annoying. Most of them, anyway. I think a bunch of them are starting to figure it out.”

“Does Bolt know about you?”

Oliver grins, like he’s delighted that Matthias figured that out by himself. “Bolt knows everything.” He tilts his head. “He’s, like, the ultimate straight ally. That’s why he gets invited to hang with us.”

“You and Casey.”

“Case and me and you,” Oliver says. “We’re not gonna exclude you just because you and Casey hooked up and he’s all awkward about it.”

Matthias groans and hides his face behind his hands. “What did he say when you told him?”

“He was really confused about how I figured it out, even though, honestly, I figured it out last summer and then chose to believe him when he told me nothing happened. He was really, really sure that you wouldn’t have told me.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Matthias mumbles into his hands.

“Which is very sweet. He wasn’t mad or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Not really. He already hates me.”

“I don’t think he hates you,” Oliver muses. “Pretty sure he just doesn’t know how to deal with you being on the same team as him all of a sudden when you… uh…”

“Saw his naked ass?”

Oliver chortles. “I mean… yeah.”

“Well, I have the same problem and I’m not treating him like crap.”

“That’s because treating other people like crap isn’t part of your personality,” Oliver says. “Anyway, I laughed at Casey yesterday, because this is fucking ridiculous and I think he needed that. I told him to get it together, this is embarrassing.”

“Ugh.”

“It’s okay, Brandy. I’m kinda glad it played out like this because I honestly couldn’t figure out what his deal was. I feel better now.”

“At least one of us does.”

“Hey…” The mattress shakes when Oliver sits down next to Matthias. He pats his back. “Jokes aside, I know this must have been really getting to you and I’m sorry.”

“I can deal,” Matthias mutters.

“You shouldn’t have to deal. Casey was totally out of line. He’s bad at leaving his personal shit at home, always has been. And, just so we’re clear, I said all of that to his face yesterday, I’m not talking shit about him behind his back. I’ve made my feelings very clear.”

“Okay.” That’s all Matthias has in him right now.

Oliver gives him a quick squeeze. “Wanna head out for lunch?”

“We just had breakfast.”

“Deep dish pizza,” Oliver whispers.

“Ew,” Matthias says softy.

“Careful, they’re going to chase you out of Chicago with pitchforks.” Oliver nudges him. “Quick walk? Lunch after. No pizza. You need to eat so you’ll become big and strong. Game tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I need to be very strong to sit on the bench.”

“Uh, no, you’re playing. When Coach pulls someone, in the next game he always starts the guy who went in. That’s his thing.”

“Casey isn’t gonna love that,” Matthias grumbles. Like Casey needs another reason to be pissed at him. Just when Matthias thought they were making progress. He won’t even be able to look at Casey during morning skate tomorrow.

“Casey can deal. This wasn’t the first time he got pulled.”

Matthias hesitates. Casey didn’t actually seem that pissed when he waited for him outside the room last night and said it was his screw-up. He owned it, talked about it like it wasn’t a big deal. Already moving on.

Matthias wishes he could move on from a loss that quickly.

“Brandy?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” Oliver asks. “Do you wanna sit here for a bit?”

“Actually… yeah.”

“Okay.”

In his pocket, Matthias’s phone buzzes. It’s a text from Casey. The first one. Matthias saved his number when he got added to the group chat and added everyone’s numbers to his contacts, but he figured he’d never use it.

Casey Wallace

can we talk? room 526

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“WHAT DO YOU want?” Matthias asks as soon as Casey opens the door for him. First Casey refuses to talk to him, now he asks him to come here like it’s totally normal. Like all he has to do is snap his fingers and Matthias will come running.

“Come in,” Casey says, taking a step back to let him in.

His room is pristine. He made his bed, which didn’t even occur to Matthias. He went digging through his bag for a clean pair of socks this morning—he brought enough socks, they were just hard to find—and left a mess on the floor. Which is still there and will be there until they head back to Vegas.

“Look, I didn’t say anything to Ollie, okay?” Matthias says because he assumes that’s why he’s here. “He guessed.”

“I know, he told me,” Casey says. He’s hovering next to his bed, like he doesn’t want to sit down. He doesn’t invite Matthias to sit down either, so he ends up leaning against the wall, feeling awkward.

“He knows that I’m here now. I was over in his room,” Matthias says.

Casey chews on his bottom lip.

“I couldn’t just walk away and say I left the oven on.”

“Yeah, I get it, he said he was gonna talk to you,” Casey mutters. “He, uh… he told you?”

“That he’s into guys?”

“Yeah, that. He’s not a labels kind of guy,” Casey says. He folds his arms across his chest. “In any case, I don’t want this to be awkward.”

“Oh, you don’t want this to be awkward, huh? It’s a little late for that, Casey, it’s been awkward ever since I got here.”

Casey won’t look at him anymore. “Yeah.”

“I don’t care that Ollie knows we hooked up,” Matthias says. “You didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything.”

Casey glares at the ceiling. “It just caught me off guard.”

“That he figured it out?”

“That you came here,” Casey says. “We hooked up once and then you were my teammate all of a sudden. I thought I was only gonna see you twice this season.”

Yeah, that’s exactly what Matthias thought, too. “Don’t you think it was weird for me, too?”

“I mean, sure, but—”

But it’s weirder for Casey than it is for Matthias for some ridiculous reason. Matthias rolls his eyes. “I never asked you for anything, I just didn’t want you to be a total dick to me, but whatever. We had sex, it was great, but nothing has to happen. I wasn’t expecting you to ask for my hand in marriage as soon as I landed in Vegas.”

Casey presses his lips together.

“Look, it seemed like you were ready to stop being a dick last night,” Matthias goes on before Casey can get any ideas and shut down again. They’re talking. Finally. “Can we just move on and be teammates? I’m not even asking you to be my friend or anything.”

Casey looks—embarrassed?—for a second. Matthias can’t say for sure, but he has a feeling that his life is about to get a whole lot easier. In the end, Casey only nods.

Did he seriously think Matthias would show up in Vegas and ask him to be his boyfriend? It was pretty obvious last summer that there would be no more sex. Even though it was great.

Unless—what if Casey thought it was terrible? Matthias was drunk, but not so drunk that he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe his brain only tricked him into thinking that the sex was great. Maybe he made it all up.

He takes a deep breath. He can’t ask. They just agreed they’d be picture-perfect teammates, Matthias can’t—shit. “Was the sex bad?”

“I…” Casey shakes his head. “What?”

“The sex. Was it terrible? Is that why you were hoping to only see me twice this season? Because you didn’t want to look at me and remember the terrible sex we had?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So it wasn’t terrible.”

Casey once again isn’t looking at him when he says, “No, it wasn’t terrible. Did you really need me to say that?”

“Yeah, I kinda did,” Matthias says. “Okay. I’ll officially stop talking about the sex we had now.”

“Wonderful.”

“I’ll never mention it again.”

“Good.”

“I’m… gonna go have lunch with Ollie,” Matthias says. He needs to change the subject before this conversation implodes on him. “You wanna come?”

Casey snorts. “What, like a queer support group?”

“Or like lunch with your teammates,” Matthias says.

If Matthias’s eyes aren’t totally deceiving him, Casey is actually smiling. Just a little. “Okay, sounds good. No deep dish pizza, though, okay? I know Ollie loves that shit and I tried it once because I’m a good friend, but it’s a no from me.”

Matthias snorts. “That’s what I said.”

“Oh, and… Matthias?”

Wow, that was almost correct. And Matthias never even taught him how to say his name. “Yeah?”

“Please don’t sit next to me on the plane ever again.”

Matthias tugs his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, uh, sorry about that. I didn’t realize Ollie was, like, your emotional support human.”

“It’s just takeoff and landing.”

“You sure about that?”

“I mean, I do prefer the flights where everyone’s awake and playing card games and shit. That way I don’t think about being on a plane as much.”

“I won’t sit next to you again. Promise.” Matthias almost asks if he sucked at holding Casey’s hand, but that might be too far. Worse than the sex question.

So he keeps his mouth shut and tells Casey to meet him and Oliver in the lobby in half an hour.

“Aren’t you glad we all talked and can go out for lunch together without being big babies about it?” Oliver says, throwing his arms around both of them as they head out of the hotel.

Casey only grunts, bundled into a thick coat, his scarf pulled up over his mouth. For once, Matthias is sure that this has nothing to do with him. Just the weather, not his existence.

Matthias takes a deep breath. “Smells like snow.”

“It’s way too early for that,” Casey mutters.

“It’s November,” Oliver says. “It’s exactly the right time.”

“I know the cold is tough on you, Case, since you’re personified sunshine and all that,” Oliver chirps. He elbows Matthias in the side. “He’s from California, so he doesn’t know snow.”

“California? I thought you were from Buffalo,” Matthias says, showing his whole entire ass. Yes, he googled Casey. But he googled everyone when he got traded to Vegas. Although, admittedly, he doesn’t know where any of his other teammates were born. Oliver’s from Canada, but Matthias doesn’t even know where in Canada. Definitely not the French-speaking part. Was it Vancouver? That’s where his moms live now.

“We moved to California when I was two,” Casey says. “Don’t really remember the snow.”

“Dude, you’re so lucky you ended up in Vegas.” Oliver cackles. “Don’t you have a partial no-trade clause? What’s in there? All the Canadian teams?”

Casey doesn’t respond and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“They’d never trade him anyway,” Matthias says.

“True,” Oliver says. “Casey’s our main man.”

“Pretty sure Mikko is our main man,” Casey says.

“Listen, I love Mikko, but we both know that you’d be captain if goalies could be captain.”

“I don’t have any of the qualities a good captain should have,” Casey says, sounding amused.

At least he’s self-aware. Casey’s one of the best goalies in the league, but Matthias can’t imagine him giving a rookie a pep talk or dealing out encouraging butt slaps the way Mikko does. Matthias won’t lie, he thought the butt slaps were kinda weird in the beginning, but now they’re part of his game day, the same way the pasta and the juggling are.

“So,” Oliver says, “where do you wanna have lunch?”

Matthias shares a look with Casey. “Casey can pick.”

“Really, you’re willing to put your faith in Casey’s Taco Bell-loving hands?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Taco Bell,” Matthias says. He’s had tacos there a few times and he’s still alive. “Anyway, Casey doesn’t like deep dish pizza either, so…”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Oliver says. “You guys are besties now.”

Matthias wouldn’t go that far yet, but when they end up going to a steakhouse that Casey loves and apparently comes to every time he’s in Chicago with the team, their waiter leads them to a four-seat booth. Casey, the last one to sit down, picks the empty seat next to Matthias.

Matthias is pleased with this for approximately two minutes. Then it starts to dawn on him that he has to sit next to Casey for the next hour. At least. They have to pick their food and order and eat and they’re not in a hurry. They have the day off, so they may even have dessert. Matthias loves dessert.

But he’s sort of squeezed into this booth with Casey. They’ve got some space between them—maybe an inch—but Matthias is close enough that he can feel Casey’s warmth. If he moves, he may nudge Casey’s knee with his, which he wants to avoid at all costs, because he doesn’t want Casey to think that he’s making a pass at him.

And Matthias is kind of scared that it’ll, uh, awaken something in him. Something that he’s been trying really hard to ignore. Something related to knowing what Casey’s naked ass looks like.

Casey’s good-looking. A little scruffy, but Matthias likes scruffy. He doesn’t have a type or anything, or at least hasn’t really had the luxury of figuring out if he does, but if he did, a guy like Casey would probably be it.

Matthias is maybe slightly screwed. He’d gotten so good at not thinking about this. About Casey. About last summer. Maybe it was better that way.

When their waiter brings their drinks, Matthias shifts a little closer to the wall. Casey doesn’t notice. Their elbows bump while they eat. They both mumble an apology. Casey asks Oliver about his moms and his sister. Matthias stops paying attention to not touching Casey. Their knees knock together. Matthias pretends it didn’t happen. Thinks about Casey sitting down next to him in a booth in some club, the lights low, the music loud. Leaning in, asking him how he’s doing. His knee knocking against Matthias’s under the table.

Matthias makes it through lunch.

They do have dessert.

Casey talks to him when they head onto the ice for morning skate the next day. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, just something he thinks Matthias should pay attention to when they play against the Wolves tonight.

Matthias is the only one who’s surprised when Coach Hargrave says he wants him in net tonight. He honestly thought Coach wouldn’t be that predictable. The Wolves aren’t one of those scary-good teams, but it’s often the teams you underestimate that end up giving you the most trouble. He’ll never expect an easy win again. There’s no such thing.

He manages to get one in Chicago. The final score is 3–1 and when the guys line up after the game to give him his head pats, he not only gets an extra butt slap from Mikko, but also a smile and a quick bro-hug, back patting included, from Casey.

Matthias tries not to be grumpy about the Wolves breaking the shutout, but he’s never once had one in his NHL career. He had a few in the AHL, but it’s not the same.

He’ll get another chance, though.

They’re headed home after this game and will have a reasonably long homestead—six games in Vegas—and two of them will be back-to-back. He’ll be in goal for one of those.

Or so he thinks. When they get back to Vegas, Casey’s in net for like five minutes until he comes to the bench and tells Coach he can’t play anymore because he tweaked something.

And, just like that, Matthias is the Vipers’ starter.

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE VIPERS CALL up Linus Henriksson from their farm team. He’s twenty-one and it’s his first trip to the NHL. He was here during training camp, but was pretty much gone in the blink of an eye.

He’s a good kid, all wide-eyed and enthusiastic and happy to be here. He makes a beeline for Matthias and shakes his hand when he first walks into the locker room. Matthias immediately offers up his guest room.

“Oh,” Linus says, making a face. “Mikko has already invited me to stay with him.”

“It’s fine, Henny,” Mikko says. “Stay with Brandy. Do weird goalie shit together.”

Linus beams, like he can’t wait to do weird goalie shit with Matthias.

Honestly, Matthias didn’t think he did that much weird goalie shit, but then he once told off Oliver for putting too many pucks in his net, because he doesn’t like it when there’s more than one puck in there and he had to admit that it was, in fact, weird goalie shit. Talking to the crossbar probably counts as weird goalie shit as well, now that he thinks about it.

But he doesn’t have some weird-ass water bottle ritual the way Casey does. Although that weird-ass water bottle ritual is probably what makes him one of the best goalies in the league. Goalie magic.

Matthias pounces on the chance to try his extremely sparse Swedish out on Linus and Linus doesn’t even laugh at him when he butchers words, he just slowly repeats them for him until he gets them right. Over dinner, he teaches him swear words.

Matthias already loves him and wants to keep him forever.

Which, obviously, he can’t. Casey’s day-to-day, just tweaked something that he doesn’t want to make worse and he’ll probably be back within a week. They might even still be on this homestand.

That doesn’t change that Matthias is now the Vipers’ starter, though. He doesn’t know if Coach will give Linus a chance while he’s here, but their upcoming opponents are all Cup contenders—the Sailors, the Broncos, the Falcons. Matthias is likely going to be in goal against all of them, knowing he’s not the first choice. Still, this is a chance for him to show what he can do. If he pulls off a couple of wins here, Coach may give him a few more starts down the line.

Casey is around, not dressing but being a smart-ass.

“Ugh, I hate the Sailors,” Matthias tells Oliver after morning skate. He was the first goalie off the ice and they put him on media duty, so he just spent ten minutes pretending that he’s not scared of Blake MacDonald but that he also respects Blake MacDonald and deems his team an opponent that has to be taken very seriously. Thank fuck he gets to go home now and take a nap. As soon as Linus is ready to go. “And I hate Blake MacDonald.”

“I want to have Blake MacDonald’s babies,” Oliver replies. “Like, his figurative babies.”

“He’s like ten years older than you,” Casey dives into the conversation. It’s like he was waiting for them in the room to make his opinions known.

“He’s a total babe,” Oliver says.

Matthias pushes off his pants. “True.” He catches Casey’s eyes then quickly turns away, because awkward. “I still hate him, though,” he says to his pants.

“You pulled off a win against the Sailors last time,” says Casey, smart-assing from the side.

“Those were the preseason Sailors. The regular season Sailors are definitely scarier than the preseason Sailors.”

Casey shakes his head at him. “That doesn’t make any sense. It’s the same team.”

“Yeah, but a preseason win doesn’t mean anything.”

“I think maybe it’s your attitude that’s the real problem here,” Casey says.

Oliver sticks a piece of stick tape on Casey’s nose. “Leave Brandy alone, he’s nervous.”

Matthias huffs at him, even though Oliver is one hundred percent correct. He’s nervous as fuck. Not because of the Sailors, really. Matthias has been in goal against scary-good teams and he survived. It’s because he’s the backup and he’s seen everyone’s comments online—they’re talking about Casey like he’s the only one who’s ever won this team a game, like the Vipers’ chances of winning the Cup are shot, like Matthias being in goal is a death sentence.

They’re not even halfway through the season, so they’ll still have a chance to grab a playoff spot even if Matthias loses four in a row. But the media and the fans aren’t exactly confident, don’t exactly believe in him, and that has trickled all the way down to Matthias feeling like he’s going to throw up.

“He’ll be fine,” Casey says, like Matthias isn’t even there. If he didn’t sound so annoyed, Matthias would take it as a vote of confidence. “Just hope the game doesn’t go to a shootout. Blake MacDonald always scores during the shootout.”

“He doesn’t always score,” Oliver says.

“Look up his stats,” Casey says. “It might as well be always.”

“Ugh, Case, you’re such a stats guy.”

“Stats are interesting,” Casey grumbles and finally pulls the piece of stick tape off his nose.

“Only you would say that.” Oliver elbows Casey in the side. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“You would be starting tonight if you were fine,” Oliver says in a singsong voice.

Matthias is surprised Casey doesn’t slap him for that one.

Thankfully Linus comes over right then, effectively distracting Casey and Oliver. “Hey, guys.” He blinks at Casey. “Hi. Casey.”

Oliver smiles and tries very hard to hide it, turning away and making a show of checking his phone.

Linus asked Matthias this morning if Casey would be at the rink. He’s got major heart-eyes for him and it’s adorable.

“Hey,” Casey says. “How’s it going?”

“All good.” Linus smiles brightly. “I’m staying at Matthias’s and he makes really good breakfast.”

“Does he?” Oliver asks, wiggling his eyebrows at Matthias.

“It was just eggs,” Matthias says, waving him off before he can get any ideas and invite himself over for breakfast.

“He also bought me Pop Tarts.”

“You bought him Pop Tarts?” Casey asks, voice dripping with disdain. “They’re gross.”

“I’ve seen you eat three fried pickles. I don’t trust your food opinions,” Oliver says.

“Ew,” Matthias says.

“It was a dare,” Casey snaps.

“Okay, time to go home,” Oliver says, “before Casey kills me over a pickle.”

“I thought it was three pickles?” Matthias says.

Oliver nudges Matthias towards the door that’ll take them to their fenced-in part of the parking lot.

“How did the fried pickles taste?” Linus asks, voice low.

“They weren’t terrible,” Casey says. If Oliver had asked that question, he’d already be dead on the floor.

“Ew,” Matthias says again.

“Brandy, if you win the game tonight, you have to eat fried butter the next time we’re in Texas,” Oliver says.

“Absolutely not.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I actually want to win the game tonight and thinking about having to eat fried butter might make me lose it subconsciously.”

“So you have to eat fried butter if you lose,” Casey says. “I’ll buy you a fried pickle to go with it.” He pushes the door open for them. A roar goes up immediately from the fans waiting for them in the parking lot.

The Vipers have put up a fence far enough away from the door that no one will be able to bug them and their security guy shoots a death glare in that general direction every few minutes, just for good measure.

“I’m going home,” Casey says. “See you tonight.”

“Uh, fried butter isn’t actually a thing, right?” Linus asks.

“Unfortunately, it is,” Oliver says. “I’m gonna go sign stuff. I’ll see you babes later.”

Matthias eyes Linus. “You wanna head over there?”

“Oh, I don’t think they’re here for me,” Linus says, his smile now bashful. “We can go home if you want to go home.”

Matthias actually wouldn’t mind distracting himself by signing some jerseys and taking pictures with fans, but at this point he’s pretty much expecting the media to say that he spent too much time with the fans and not enough time focusing on the game against the Sailors.

“Linus!” someone shouts over by the fence.

Linus waves.

A bunch of people cheer.

“Come on,” Matthias says and pushes Linus towards the fence. He remembers the first time he got called up to play for the Bobcats—or sit on the bench for the Bobcats, he should say. But people were there cheering for him. They had signs for him at the game and everything and he’s not going to rob Linus of this experience just because he’s scared that someone will write some wild and unwarranted bullshit about him.

Someone actually has a Henriksson jersey waiting for Linus to sign. They must have had that one for a while because it’s not the kind of jersey you can grab at the team store. They don’t even have Matthias’s jersey there. They have Casey’s, Mikko’s, Oliver’s, sure, but most of the other ones you have to order. Matthias has already ordered one for his mom for when she visits him later this year.

“Brandy, can you sign my puck?”

Matthias turns to a little girl who is barely tall enough to look over the fence. She’s holding up one of the pucks they sell at the store and a silver Sharpie. “Of course,” he says and scribbles his name on the puck.

He takes a few selfies, signs a few jerseys, forgets about the Sailors for ten minutes, and waits for Linus to finish talking to the fans. Behind them, one of the Vipers’ social media managers is lurking, taking pictures of the kid and his adoring fans.

It’s cute.

When they’re in Matthias’s car, Linus turns to him with his signature sunshine smile. “They had my jersey,” he says, in awe. “Thank you for waiting.”

“Sure thing,” Matthias says.

At home, Matthias takes the worst nap of his life before they head to the arena with plenty of time to spare. If he could, Linus would probably be bouncing up and down in the passenger seat with excitement.

Before Matthias can even head into the room, doing his best to ignore the social media folks snapping pictures of them arriving, Casey waves him over and down the hall.

Casey doesn’t say hello. “What’s different about this one?”

“What?”

“This game. What’s different about it? You just brought home a win in Chicago. What changed?”

“Nothing,” Matthias says. “It’s… pregame jitters.”

“You shouldn’t be jittery.”

“Jesus, Casey—”

“I’m just trying to help,” Casey snaps.

“You’re not,” Matthias snaps back. But quietly, because there are people around and he doesn’t need any Brandl-and-Wallace-hate-each-other rumors to fly around. Casey’s over the hating him part. He’s moved on to whatever this is. The worst pep talk on Earth? Being a smart-ass again?

“Did you look up your name on Twitter?” Casey asks. “Is that why you’re acting like you’ve never stopped a puck in your life?”

Matthias glares at him.

“You did,” Casey says. “Has no one told you that’s the worst thing you can do on game day? Showing up to a game drunk would be smarter than that.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

Casey rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re good. Just do your job.”

“Well, that’s what I was planning on doing.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. Good. Can I go now?”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Casey says and shuffles away, probably to sit in the press box and roll his eyes at Matthias from afar.

The game is a total blur in the end. The Sailors score on him twice, but he saves every single shot from Blake MacDonald and he’s unreasonably smug about it. The Vipers score four, the crowd roaring around him when the clock runs down and the guys gather around him for hugs.

Linus is the last one and he stops a few feet away from him and raises up both his arms. Matthias grins. He knows where this is going. He raises his arms as well and Linus screams and comes skating towards him, jumping into his arms and giving him a twirl. “That was awesome!” he shouts.

It was. It was totally awesome.

Casey is waiting by the locker room door with the healthy scratches and gives Matthias a fist bump as he passes.

The Matthias Brandl who’s between the pipes against the Broncos two days later has never even heard of pregame jitters. When he gets to the arena before the game, once again earlier than necessary, Casey is already there, but this time he doesn’t pull him aside. He only nods at him in a my work here is done kind of way. Except he didn’t even do anything. Smart-ass.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IT’S THE GAME against the Falcons when Matthias finally gets his shutout.

They were already going to go out after the game for Linus’s birthday, but now they have double the reasons to celebrate, as Oliver helpfully points out after he’s snapped about a hundred pictures of Matthias and his game puck. He wanted one to send to his mom but Oliver turned it into a photoshoot.

Matthias practically has to beg for his phone back.

They head to a club that’s not too far from the arena and Mikko buys them a round of shots to start. Matthias honestly wasn’t going to get drunk tonight, but he gets swept up in it. The music, the drinks, Oliver dragging him onto the dance floor.

Linus is right there with them and it only takes two seconds for several girls to be all over him.

“It’s okay,” Oliver shouts into his ear, “I gave him the Don’t Get Married in Vegas speech.”

“The what?” Matthias shouts back. “You never gave me that speech.” All he got was a comment in passing.

“You said you’d stay single forever!”

Yeah, he did say that.

He eventually claws his way off the dance floor and buys another drink, even though he should be buying water, and tries to find a familiar face in the crowd. Casey and Mikko are still in the booth the team claimed when they got here. Mikko’s wife is next to Casey, and Sid’s girlfriend Theresa is next to Mikko.

“Brandy,” Theresa shouts and pulls him into a hug when he slides into the booth. “I was just saying to the guys how good you were tonight. We’re so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Matthias says, his face burning.

“Have a shot, sweetie,” she says and takes a shot glass off a tray that has about a dozen more on it. Did they buy a bunch so they’d never be in danger of running out?

Matthias takes it and Theresa pats his arm before she hands him a second one.

“No,” Matthias says.

“You deserve a little fun,” Theresa says, pats his cheek, and goes on to recount all the saves he made that game. Matthias has no idea how she remembers all of those, but it’s like listening to a live game recap. “And the one that nearly snuck in when it bounced off your back? And you still caught it! That was amazing. Party hard, you funky little goalie.” Before Matthias can complain about her calling him little, Theresa takes a shot, downs it, and nods at Mikko’s wife. “Anna, you wanna go dance?”

Anna downs a shot of her own and off they go.

Mikko stabs his finger at Matthias. “Drink water before you go to bed,” he says and gets up.

“Where are you going?” Matthias asks. It looks like Mikko is about to leave him alone with Casey and eight tequila shots.

“My wife wants to dance,” Mikko says.

“I thought she was dancing with Theresa.”

“It was implied that she wanted me to come,” Mikko tells him and follows Anna and Theresa onto the dance floor. Anna slings her arms around him and kisses him, while Theresa finds Sid within seconds.

“What the fuck,” Matthias says. He turns to Casey. “Was it actually implied that she wanted him to come?”

Casey only shrugs. “I don’t know, they have this weird… telepathy thing going on. It’s kinda scary how in sync they are.”

“Huh,” Matthias says.

He takes another shot. Hands one to Casey. He picks up his own and gently knocks it against Casey’s. Casey reluctantly takes it. Matthias can’t help but grin. Casey raises his eyebrows at him, somewhat amused, and then it dawns on Matthias that this is how they slid into a big old mess last summer. Sitting in a booth just like this one, both of them drunk.

Matthias’s knee knocks against Casey’s under the table when he shifts away. When did he get so close to Casey in the first place?

He waves at the empty shot glasses. “This was a big mistake.”

“You deserve to have some fun,” Casey says. “You got your fist shutout, that’s a big deal.”

Matthias leans closer. Also a big mistake, but they’re in a club and you can’t have a conversation without getting close to someone in here. “Do you remember your first one?”

“Of course I do,” Casey says. “It was my first game with the Vipers.”

“No way. Your very first game?”

Casey nods. “They called me up and their backup at the time got the flu, so I had to go in and…” He grins.

“It’s so annoying how good you are,” Matthias says, shaking his head. Another big mistake.

“High praise,” Casey says.

Before Matthias can give him more praise of any kind, Linus shows up at their table, red-faced, blond hair sticking to his forehead. “Matthias,” he says. “I, uh, I just wanted to say… no need to drive me home tonight.”

“Okay,” Matthias says. “Take an Uber to practice tomorrow. I’m leaving my car at the arena.”

Linus stares at him like he forgot that practice is a thing they have to show up to several hours from now. Then he nods, the smile back. “See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t get married,” Casey shouts after him, but Linus has already left.

“Is that a thing?” Matthias asks. “Have you ever had a rookie who was so drunk that he got married or something?”

“Not yet,” Casey replies, “and we’d love to keep that streak going.”

Matthias laughs, watching Linus head out of the club with a girl in tow. “Did he really think I was going to drive him home? Like this?” He hates that he has to pick up his car at the arena tomorrow, but no way in hell is he driving home. “Ugh…” He leans his head back against the wall. “I should go home.”

“Don’t wanna stick around without your new bestie here?” Casey asks.

“I… what?”

Casey gives him a you heard me kind of look.

Matthias almost asks him if he’s jealous, but he’s not drunk enough to let that one slip out of his mouth. “He’s a good kid,” Matthias says. He feels weird about calling Linus a kid when he’s only a few years younger than him, but whatever. “He says nice things about my scrambled eggs.”

Casey snorts.

“That came out wrong.”

“No, I’m sure your scrambled eggs are wonderful.”

“I’m going home right now,” Matthias says and grabs another shot. “And I’m taking this.”

“Go, Brandy!” someone shouts behind him. It’s Theresa, with Sid in tow, grabbing the remaining two shots, which is for the best, because now Matthias can’t make another big mistake.

She holds up her hand for a high five.

Matthias obliges and shouts, “I’m going to sleep!”

“Not here,” Sid says.

“I’ll make sure he gets home,” Casey says, his hand suddenly on Matthias’s shoulder as he steers him around the dance floor towards the exit.

They pass Oliver, who’s leaning against one of the bars, talking to a girl in leather pants and a flannel shirt with ripped off sleeves. He excuses himself and joins them. “You headed home?”

“Yeah” Casey says. He still has one hand on Matthias’s back, like he’s scared Matthias will run off and do more tequila shots. It feels nice. Blegh.

Matthias is tired.

He lets Casey nudge him out of the club with Oliver at their heels, the fresh air practically slapping him in the face.

“Have you guys ordered a car?” Oliver asks.

“Casey did.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You said you’d get me home.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll do it,” Oliver interrupts, phone already in hand.

“You’re the best,” Matthias says and moves to give Oliver a hug.

Oliver gently holds out his arm to keep him away. “One sec.”

The problem is that Matthias becomes more affectionate with each drop of alcohol he drinks, so when Oliver doesn’t want a hug, Matthias turns to the only other available person: Casey.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Casey says.

Thank fuck he isn’t as shit-faced as Matthias.

“Aw,” Oliver says, taps one more button on his phone and puts his arm around Matthias. “Car will be here in six minutes.”

“That’s so long.”

Casey snorts.

“We’re going to my place, okay?” Oliver says. “You can sleep in the guest room.”

“I live right next to you,” Matthias protests. “Like, almost right next to you.”

“I can walk him home,” Casey says. “It’s on the way to my place anyway.”

That’s a terrible idea.

Matthias doesn’t say it out loud, although he probably should. He’s drunk enough to make tequila-shot-related mistakes, so he’s also drunk enough to make a Casey-related mistake. Which, yeah, he won’t. Because Casey isn’t drunk enough to make a Matthias-related mistake. Hopefully. His head is spinning.

He tries not to fall asleep while they wait for their car. It definitely takes longer than six minutes. Six hours maybe.

Matthias yawns.

When the car finally pulls up, he’s ready to go to bed, so he leans his head back and closes his eyes, while Oliver and Casey quietly talk about a 10–2 game. Sailors completely murdered the Lions in LA tonight.

Matthias loves it when the Lions get murdered. They’re all dicks. Okay, not all of them, but their dick-to-decent-human-being ratio is way off.

He nods off at the next light.

And he’s so tired. He’s going to crave death during practice tomorrow. But sleep is nice, sleep is so—

“Brandy.”

“Ugh.”

“Brandy, come on, we’re home.”

“No.”

“Sorry,” someone mutters.

That same someone, or maybe a different someone, pokes his thigh. Then his side. “Brandy, wake up.”

They sound annoyed. Matthias doesn’t like it when people are annoyed at him.

“Matthias.”

Casey. That’s Casey’s annoyed voice, which is also Casey’s regular voice most of the time.

Matthias blinks. He was having such a nice nap, with his head pillowed on—crap. Casey’s shoulder. He was sleeping on Casey. He sits up quickly, which is another mistake that will just have to get in line behind all the other mistakes he made tonight.

Oliver is already on the sidewalk and has opened the door on Matthias’s side so he can get out. Which he does without falling flat on his face. He’d be ecstatic about that if he wasn’t so tired and didn’t want to lie down for a hundred years.

Casey clambers out as well and bids the driver a good night. “All right, let’s go,” he says to Matthias. “Ollie, I’ll pick you up tomorrow for practice.”

“We don’t have cars,” Matthias says.

“I have two cars,” Casey says.

“Can you give me a ride tomorrow?”

“If you don’t throw up on my shoes on our way home, I’ll consider it,” Casey says.

“See you tomorrow,” Oliver says, waving at them as he walks up to his house. Matthias catches a quick glimpse of Minnie, who apparently got up to welcome him home. Or to see if he brought food. That’s actually more likely.

“So,” Matthias says and starts walking, accidentally ending up in the street.

“Fuck’s sake,” Casey says and pulls him back onto the sidewalk. “Let’s go.”

“That’s what I was trying to do.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Stop being so—”

“Keep your voice down,” Casey says, arm firmly slung around him to keep him moving. “People are sleeping.”

“I wish I was people.”

“What?”

“People are sleeping. I want to be one of the sleeping people.”

“We’re gonna be there in a minute,” Casey says, practically dragging him along.

Matthias doesn’t want to walk anymore. He wants to close his eyes and curl up under a warm blanket. So much that he almost walks past his own house. Casey tugs him in the right direction and up to his front door.

“Keys?” Casey says.

Matthias hands them over.

Casey unlocks the door for him and nudges him across the threshold. And comes inside, much to Matthias’s horror. Casey marches into the kitchen and pours Matthias a glass of water, handing it over on the way back to the door. “If you throw up in the Mustang tomorrow, I’ll kill you.”

“Noted,” Matthias says.

“Drink your water.”

Matthias takes a sip.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Matthias only says.

Casey heads out, gently pulling the door shut when he leaves. Matthias stands in the hallway with his glass of water for a moment, staring at the front door. He nearly spills it when he gets out of his shoes.

When he finally falls into bed, he checks his phone for probably the first time since he left the arena. His mom replied hours ago, telling him how proud she is and that she’ll watch the game as soon as she gets home from work.

Matthias unlocks his phone one more time to have a look at the photos they took earlier. One is of him and Oliver, Matthias holding up the puck, Oliver pointing at it with the biggest smile. The other one only shows Matthias, although some of the guys are hovering behind him. Thankfully all of them dressed.

Casey’s there, too, in his suit, head tilted, smile on his face. Casey doesn’t smile, though. Ever. Matthias zooms in. Yep. Smiling. At the back of Matthias’s head.

Wild.

Matthias’s phone hits his forehead a moment later. He groans.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

OBVIOUSLY, LINUS WASN’T going to stay in Vegas forever.

That’s what happens when someone gets called up. Matthias has been there. You’re gone just as fast as you appeared. They don’t even have time to throw a goodbye party for Linus.

One evening, they’re eating pizza together and the next morning the Vipers are putting Linus on a plane back to the farm team. So when Matthias gets to morning skate, Casey is already on the ice. It’s not a surprise, of course. Casey has been back on the ice, working with their goalie coach before practice, but they didn’t know for sure when he’d be back. Today’s the day apparently.

Coach still sends Matthias over to the starter’s net when morning skate starts. “Wallace is good to go, but you’ve got a good thing going,” he says.

A good thing, yeah. He’s won five in a row on home ice. It’s sort of surreal, thinking about it. And he’s not mad that Casey is back, but he’s on fire and he’s glad Coach sees it, too. He’ll get one more shot. Tomorrow they’re going back on the road and he’d bet that Casey will get the start in San Diego.

Matthias is sent off the ice first after morning skate and then promptly thrown to the wolves. Uh, the reporters.

He’s never had to talk to them this much and they’ve never been this happy to crowd around him. They ask about Casey, of course they do, want to know why Matthias is starting, if Casey is maybe not a hundred percent yet. Matthias isn’t going to question his coach’s choices. Hargrave knows what he’s doing. “I don’t get paid to coach,” Matthias tells them and it earns him a round of chuckles.

Afterwards he keeps an eye out for Casey, to see if he’s mad because he’s not getting the start. But Casey only starts glaring when he realizes that Matthias is looking at him.

“What?” Casey mouths from across the room.

Matthias only shakes his head.

They all go home after morning skate and today Matthias doesn’t stick around to sign stuff. He waves at the fans who are waiting by the fence. They wave back. “You’re the best!” one of them shouts. Matthias waves again because he doesn’t know what else to do.

He sort of wishes they weren’t so excited. Because he’s eventually going to lose a game again. He may lose the game tonight.

He doesn’t, though.

They win, although it’s a close call. They go all the way to the shootout, but Matthias makes every single save. It was his first shootout in the NHL and he’d lie if he said he wasn’t at least a little scared. They don’t practice this much. Often enough, it’s sheer luck that gets you a win in the end.

But they grab another two points and as soon as the horn goes at the end of the game, Oliver launches himself into Matthias’s arms. “Holy shit, Brandy, holy shit!”

His head boop line is ecstatic tonight. The guys are excited to take this win streak on the road and keep it going.

Coop, second-to-last in line, gives him five head pats before he makes way for Casey, who comes up to him slowly. Matthias expects his regular move, catching glove on Matthias’s mask, but then Casey says, “Whatever,” and pulls him into a hug. “Good game.”

“Thanks,” Matthias manages to say. He gives Casey a quick squeeze before he can pull away.

The wolves—uh, the reporters—are back after the game.

Matthias tries to give them the regular bullshit and tries not to look too excited, but this is the longest winning streak of his career. He’s a little bit proud of himself. He ends up with the feather boa again.

Since Matthias had to talk to the media, he’s slower than everyone else, trying to turn on his phone and buttoning up his shirt at the same time so he’ll be faster, but it probably just slows him down.

When his phone turns back on, three missed calls from his mom come through. Two voicemails.

That… can’t be good.

The first missed call is from 6:55 PM. Just before puck drop. It was four in the morning in Germany at that point. His mom wouldn’t call him at four in the morning if nothing was wrong.

He takes a quick look around. The guys are all busy with their own crap and no one’s paying attention to him.

He hits play on the first voicemail.

“Matthias, sweetheart,” his mom says. She sounds out of breath. “I know you’re playing your game right now and can’t answer the phone, but I know you’d want to know what’s going on. We’ve talked about this.”

Something unpleasant settles in Matthias’s stomach. They had this big conversation when he moved to America to play hockey. If anything bad ever happens at home, he wants to know right away, even if it’s the middle of the night, even if he’s about to play in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals. That’s what he told his mom.

So something bad happened at home.

“We had to call an ambulance for Grandpa,” she goes on. “We think it’s his heart.”

Matthias can’t breathe.

And he can’t stay in the room.

“We’re at the hospital and we’re still waiting to hear what’s going on, but he may need surgery.”

Matthias starts walking. He can’t head into the hallway, because it’s teeming with people, so he takes the only other feasible way out and heads down the tunnel. It’s blessedly empty now.

Thank fuck, because he’s already crying.

“I’ll give you another call once we know what’s going on,” his mom is saying. “I’m with Grandma. We’re both here. Don’t worry for now, okay? Love you.”

Fingers trembling the slightest bit, Matthias finds the second voicemail, but he doesn’t hit play yet. He can’t do it. Fuck, he can’t.

“Matthias?”

Casey is coming down the tunnel, already dressed to head home. Matthias hasn’t even managed to button up his shirt all the way. Which doesn’t matter right now, because he’s crying in the tunnel and Casey definitely saw.

“What’s wrong?”

Matthias tries to say something. Really. He wants to explain why he’s crying in the fucking tunnel, but he can’t. He can’t even breathe, so how is he supposed to talk?

“Hey,” Casey says, voice level, “take a deep breath, okay?”

Matthias does.

“Keep doing that.”

Matthias does.

“Bad news?” Casey guesses, nodding at Matthias’s phone.

Matthias nods.

“Did someone die?”

Matthias shakes his head.

“Someone hurt?”

“My grandpa,” Matthias manages to say. He takes another deep breath. Okay. So far so good. “He’s… I don’t really know what happened. My mom said there might be something wrong with his heart.”

“Okay,” Casey says. “Listen, there’s nothing you can do right now. You can’t fly over there and fix him yourself. I’m sure they’re taking good care of him.”

“I…” Matthias holds up his phone. “My mom left me a second voicemail. I haven’t listened yet.” Another deep breath. “What if he’s dead?”

“If he’s dead, it’ll hurt whether you listen to it right now or in ten minutes or in an hour.”

Matthias sniffles. He wishes he had a tissue.

“Want me to listen to it?” Casey says.

“It’s in German,” Matthias says.

“Want me to get someone who speaks German?”

Matthias shakes his head because that’d be ridiculous. He’s a big boy. He can listen to the voicemail. Before he does, he wipes his eyes. “I’m always scared that something will happen to them and I won’t be there,” he says. “They’re so far away.”

“Not to be a dick,” Casey says, definitely about to be a dick, “but even if they lived here, you could be at the grocery store and they could fall down the stairs while you’re not there.”

“That’s really harsh,” Matthias mumbles. But it also kind of helped. Casey’s right. There’s nothing he can do. If his grandpa died, it already happened, and Matthias can’t put it off by not listening to this voicemail. It’s from about an hour ago.

Casey leans against the wall next to him. Not going anywhere.

Matthias would prefer it if he left, because then he could cry in peace if it’s bad news, but he doesn’t have it in him to tell Casey to go away. So he hits play instead.

“It’s me again,” his mom says. “Grandpa’s having emergency surgery. I don’t know how long it will take. We’ll wait here. I’ll call if there’s news, but I doubt that I’ll have any updates soon. Love you.”

“Is he okay?” Casey asks.

“He’s having surgery,” Matthias says.

“That’s good. That means he’s still alive.”

Matthias nods. “I should call her back.” He hates how his voice cracks. That he starts crying again, even though this isn’t the worst-case scenario. He jumps when Casey’s fingers curl around his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to help,” Casey says, fingers loosening by a fraction. “I can stop.”

“Don’t,” Matthias says.

Casey’s fingers slide into his. His hand is warm, skin soft against Matthias’s.

Matthias calls his mom back. She tells him that she doesn’t have any updates, and that he should go home, get some rest. She’ll call as soon as Grandpa’s out of surgery.

Casey holds his hand the entire time. Lets go soon as Matthias has hung up the phone.

“I’m sorry,” Matthias says.

“For what? Crying?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I cried when I watched Up with Oliver last week. It’s not…” Casey shrugs. “It’s okay.”

Matthias can’t believe that Casey has ever shed a tear in his life. Or that he’d voluntarily watch Up.

“Hey, what are you guys doing?” Oliver asks. He’s come down the tunnel, looking for them. “I’m gonna grab a post-game snack with Bolt, do you guys—?” He stops in his tracks, frowning at Matthias, who definitely looks like he just bawled his eyes out. “What happened?”

“Family emergency,” Casey says.

“Oh, shit,” Oliver says. “Anything we can do? Do you need anything? Want me to take you home?”

Matthias shakes his head. Oliver gave him a ride to the game today, only today Matthias wishes he had his own car so he could just go home. “It’s fine, you can go get food with Bolt, I’ll order a ride.”

“I’ll drive him home,” Casey says to Oliver.

“All right,” Oliver says, turning back to Matthias. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

Matthias nods. He already feels completely ridiculous. He should have kept it together.

“Well, you let us know,” Oliver says. “I’ll get the guys out of the room. I’ll tell them you have family shit. They won’t ask unless you want to tell them.”

“Thank you,” Matthias says. He stays in the tunnel with Casey for a few minutes. “If you want to go out with them, I can just—”

“I don’t,” Casey says.

“Thank you,” Matthias says.

“It’s not a big deal, honestly.”

“It kinda is, considering you weren’t even talking to me a few weeks ago.”

Casey glares at him—he doesn’t like that Matthias brought that up again. “Pretty sure the room is mostly empty by now.”

“Yeah,” Matthias says and lets him get away with it.

A bunch of the Vipers’ staff are still milling about. Most of them just nod at them in passing, though, trying to get out of here quickly before they head out of town tomorrow.

Matthias follows Casey to his car, gets into the passenger seat, and doesn’t say much while Casey takes them out of the arena parking lot, Vegas bright and colorful around them. That’s the thing about Vegas: it only has one setting. It barely changes. When it does, it usually becomes even brighter and more colorful.

“My mom fell down the stairs last January,” Casey says after a while. “She broke her arm and had a pretty bad concussion. We were on a roadie in Philadelphia and I couldn’t go home.”

“Is she okay?” Matthias asks.

“Totally fine now. What I’m saying is… I know it sucks.”

“It does.”

“He’ll be okay,” Casey says. “You’ll see.”

“What if he isn’t?” Matthias replies. “What if he dies and I can’t even go to the funeral?”

“I think they’d let you go.”

“Sure, they’d let me go and then the media would trash me for abandoning my team.”

“Yeah. They do that.” Casey turns into their neighborhood, driving past his own house. Matthias could have walked from here, but he’s actually glad he doesn’t have to. “Look, you don’t know what’s going to happen yet. Just go to bed, try to sleep. Take it a minute at a time, okay?”

“Okay,” Matthias says.

Casey pulls into his driveway and shoots him a sidelong glance. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” Matthias rubs his hands over his face. “This isn’t how I thought tonight would go. Anyway. Thanks for driving me.”

“Sure,” Casey says.

Matthias doesn’t want to get out of the car. Doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. But he can’t ask Casey to stay. If it was Oliver, sure, he would have already asked, but with Casey it might make things awkward.

“We can just sit here for a minute,” Casey finally says.

“Thank you,” Matthias whispers.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CASEY ISN’T NICE to him, which Matthias is weirdly grateful for.

He’s not an ass, the way he was at the beginning of the season, but he doesn’t go out of his way to coddle Matthias either—the way Oliver does. Oliver hovers. Keeps asking him if he’s okay. Asks if Matthias wants him to sit next to him on the plane.

Casey complains, though. He wants his plane buddy.

It’s fine because Matthias sits with Sid and Bolt and plays cards with them. It looks like his grandpa will be just fine. He made it through surgery, at least. Mom texts him updates. Still okay, was the last one he got.

Now they’re flying to San Diego, and afterwards they’re headed to Vancouver, then Winnipeg. It’s a roadie that’s a pain in the ass to pack for. It feels weird to stuff a winter coat into your suitcase when a light jacket is usually enough in Vegas.

The flight to San Diego is a short one—Casey probably appreciates that—and they have a short practice in the afternoon, with Casey back in the starter’s net, where he belongs.

Matthias doesn’t get to be grumpy about that. He was the backup in Florida and he’s the backup here. His contract is up at the end of the season. It would have been up no matter what, and he can still look around and see if he’ll end up with a team that’ll give him a real shot at being the starter. He just won six games on home ice. He should be proud of himself. This is going to speak for him in the summer, too, if he doesn’t fuck up spectacularly. They still have a few months left to go in the regular season. They’re in playoff position right now, but things change quickly.

All it takes is a few injures, some bad luck and suddenly you’re out of contention.

Matthias doesn’t get thrown to the wolves today. They’re all over Casey now, asking if he’s ready, if he’s excited, how he’s going to keep this streak going. Like it’s Casey and Casey alone who has to make sure they win tomorrow’s game. Casey won’t be the one scoring the goals. They need at least one of those if they want to win.

“Brandy, babe,” Oliver says when he sidles up to him in the locker room, almost naked. Like, not dick-out-naked, but close. “Dinner tonight? I know a great place. If you’re up for it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Matthias says.

Oliver gives him a pat on the back. “Have you heard anything?”

“All good for now.”

“Good, that’s good.”

A wet sock hits the back of Matthias’s head. He whips around to figure out where it came from, but no one’s even looking his way. Well, if the guys are throwing wet socks at him, it means that they didn’t catch wind of Matthias’s personal shit. It’s bad enough that he cried on Casey. He’s still embarrassed just thinking about it.

They head back to the hotel after practice. Matthias takes a terrible nap and meets Oliver in the lobby.

Oliver and Casey. They’re both there. It shouldn’t be surprising, since Oliver and Casey are a bit of a package deal. Matthias doesn’t know why he thought it would just be him and Oliver.

“Are you ready for the best chicken fajitas of all time?” Oliver asks. “I drag Casey to this place every time we’re here. Case, tell him it’s amazing.”

“It’s amazing,” Casey says. So it really must be because Casey doesn’t just say what other people tell him to say. Even if that person is Oliver.

It’s not too far from their team hotel, so they walk, with Oliver in the middle, talking about the game in Vancouver. His moms are coming and apparently another jersey debate has broken out in the Kim-Reed family group chat. “They want to wear their away jerseys, but they’re bringing, like… twenty relatives and they don’t have away jerseys, they just have the regular ones.”

“Twenty?” Matthias says. “Is that… an exaggeration?”

“It is not,” Casey says. “They buy out an entire section.”

“It’s not an entire section.”

“That’s really cool, though,” Matthias says. “I’ve never had that many relatives at a game.”

“Oh my God, I have to make them wear your jersey,” Oliver says.

“No, they’re your family. Anyway, I won’t even play.”

“So?” Oliver says and takes an abrupt right into a restaurant that Matthias probably would have missed if Oliver hadn’t been leading the way. The restaurant is tiny, or at least it looks that way until Matthias notices a staircase that leads up to a second floor.

It looks like Oliver called ahead to reserve a table, so one of the waiters leads them upstairs right away and takes them to a small booth in the corner. It’s not as busy up here, and most of the tables are still empty. They got here before the dinner rush.

Their table is round with a bench wrapping around it and it’ll be a tight fit. Matthias hopes that Oliver will sit in the middle, but obviously it’s him who ends up between Oliver and Casey. There’s no way to sit here without his knee knocking against Casey’s under the table. Or Oliver’s. But Matthias doesn’t notice Oliver’s knee as much as he notices Casey’s.

Oliver wasn’t lying about the chicken fajitas, though. They are the best Matthias has ever had.

“Mama Kim is going to wear your jersey, Brandy,” Oliver announces after they’ve eaten.

Matthias’s cheeks grow hot. “She really doesn’t have to. They’re there for you.”

“Well, it’s too late now.”

“How is she going to get my jersey this fast anyway?” Matthias says.

“Oh, she has her ways,” Oliver says, waving him off. “One time—oh. Oh no.”

“What?” Matthias says.

Oliver ducks and grabs one of the menus to hide behind.

Casey snorts.

Matthias is totally missing another inside joke. “Seriously, what—”

The question answers itself a moment later. On the opposite side of the restaurant, four guys are sitting down: Bellamy, Fournier, Eklund, Brown. San Diego Seals.

“I mean, I know we don’t like the Seals on the ice,” Matthias says, “but they’re not—”

“Shhhh,” Oliver says and swats at him. “Don’t draw attention to us.”

Casey snorts again.

Matthias shoots him a look. “What is going on here? Do you guys have, like, personal issues with those guys? Are they homophobic or something?”

Casey actually starts laughing now.

“Case,” Oliver says, “if you don’t stop laughing, I will kill you.”

“Oh, hey!” Fournier hasn’t sat down with his teammates. He waves at them. “Ollie, hi! How’s it going?”

“Hey,” Oliver says and finally lowers the menu because it clearly didn’t do its job.

Fournier comes over, big smile on his face. He’s the youngest of three brothers. His guys call him Little Fou, which is kind of cute. Technically it’s because he’s the youngest brother, but he’s also pretty short. Not the shortest guy in the league, but close. Shorter than Matthias. One of his brothers has been playing for the Sailors for actual ages and the other one is playing in Germany. Matthias only knows that because he’s from there.

“All good?” Fournier asks. He’s got a French Canadian accent. Last name already gave that one away. Matthias barely knows him, but that’s usually a good thing because it means he’s not a guy who plays dirty or anything.

“Yep, totally,” Oliver replies, nodding quickly. “Came for the fajitas.”

“Best ever.” Fournier beams. He reminds Matthias of a Golden Retriever puppy. “I showed Ollie this place, you know?”

“Ollie mentioned that the first time he took me here,” Casey says. He grins. Shows all his teeth.

Fournier’s smile grows even brighter. “Yeah? Well, I’m glad. We love it here.” He looks over his shoulder at his teammates. “Gotta go back over there, but it was so good to see you guys!” He laughs. “And I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yep,” Oliver says.

They bid Fournier goodbye and as soon as he’s out of earshot, Casey bursts out laughing again. “Ollie, what the fuck,” he says.

“Are you going to fill me in?” Matthias says.

“Ollie, fill him in, so he can laugh at you with me.”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “I hate you.”

Casey blows him a kiss. “Can I tell him?”

“Quietly,” Oliver says.

Casey leans closer to Matthias and says, “Ollie has a crush on Little Fou.”

“Oh my God, Casey, I do not,” Oliver says.

“Right, sorry. Oliver has been acting weird around Little Fou for like three years for absolutely no reason. Definitely not because he thinks it’s cute that Little Fou has this little gap between his two front teeth. And definitely not because he loves Little Fou’s dimples.”

“Case. I swear to fucking God…”

Matthias glances at Fournier and his teammates. They’re not even looking their way. Fournier is sitting with his back to them, laughing at something Bellamy said. Matthias kind of sees why Oliver would think he’s cute. “He is kinda cute,” he says.

Casey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What?” Matthias says. “I’m not going to steal him away from Ollie, I’m just saying.”

“There’s nothing to steal,” Oliver says primly. “I don’t have a crush.”

“Liar,” Casey whispers. He turns back to Matthias. “Oliver and Fournier train together in the summer. Fournier’s family is from Quebec, but they moved to Vancouver a while ago, so they see each other every year and whenever I call Oliver, he’s all Little Fou this, Little Fou that—”

“I will never speak to you again,” Oliver says. “You can call someone else during the summer.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself,” Casey says.

Oliver rolls his eyes.

Matthias gets it, though. Kind of. He barely knows a thing about what is going on here, but even if Oliver does have a crush on Fournier, what’s he going to do about it? Ask him out on a date? Yeah, right.

“Hey,” Matthias says and grabs the menu Oliver was hiding behind. “We should get dessert.”

“Yes,” Oliver says. “We should.”

Matthias glares at Casey. He’s bad at glaring, but hopefully Casey will get the message. He’s still sitting close to Matthias, closer than before. Now, Matthias doesn’t have a crush. Seriously. He’s not even lying to himself or anything. But they had a good time and Matthias wouldn’t mind having a good time again. Obviously, they can’t. They won’t. Still, Matthias can’t help but think about it when Casey gets close to him like this.

“Fine,” Casey says. “Dessert. We had the churros last time, right?”

“We did,” Oliver says. “Best churros ever.”

Casey doesn’t mention Fournier again, and neither does Oliver. Although Matthias keeps catching him sneaking glances at the Seals’ table and every time Oliver notices that Matthias caught him, his face gets a little redder. So maybe he is lying to himself a little bit, but Matthias will be the last person to judge him. As long as he’s hung up on Casey’s naked ass, he doesn’t get to judge anyone.

When they head out, after stuffing themselves with churros, they have to walk past the Seals’ table. Casey reaches out to give Bellamy a fist bump. Matthias gets one, too. Bellamy is the Seals’ starter and has been for years. It’s a contract year for him and the rumor mill is already grinding. Word on the street is that he wants a fresh start somewhere else.

Oliver mumbles a quick hello, a quick goodbye and heads down the stairs first. Flees, more like.

Matthias and Casey catch up with him outside.

“You guys wanna watch movies in my room?” Oliver asks. “The night is young.”

“You sound like you’re fifty years old,” Casey says.

“I love being fifty years old.”

They do end up in Oliver’s room, all three of them in his bed, Oliver looking for a movie to watch. This time Casey’s in the middle and Matthias manages to not fall asleep on him, which is great, honestly, he’s so proud of himself, but he still has to suffer through an action movie for two hours while Casey is right next to him, so close that Matthias can feel his warmth.

He’s not proud of it, but when he gets back to his room, he hops into the shower and jerks himself off, and if Casey pops into his head for even just a second, well, he’ll just lie to himself about it later.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MATTHIAS’S MOM COMES to Vegas for the week before Christmas. The holidays come and go  and Matthias nearly cries when he takes her to the airport for her flight home, but he keeps it together until she’s gone through security and he’s back in his car. Then he cries about it.

He drives to Oliver’s after and pets Minnie’s ears for about an hour until he feels like a person again.

They go on the road over New Year’s, come back home for two games, and then it’s dads’ trip time. It’s a fun tradition and the guys love having their dads on the road with them. But Matthias doesn’t have a dad to join them, so it’s kind of awkward. He could have invited an uncle or a mentor, but Matthias is kind of short on male role models.

At least he’s not the only one without a dad or dad-adjacent figure, although it’s not exactly a reason to celebrate. Sid’s dad is dead, Jannik’s dad is sick and can’t travel, Oliver’s dad is some random sperm donor who doesn’t even know about him, and Casey’s dad—actually, Matthias has no idea why Casey’s dad won’t make the trip.

And Matthias sure as hell won’t ask. He enjoys what he and Casey have: peace. They coexist. Matthias gets to start every so often. Casey hugs him when he wins. And Matthias hugs Casey when he wins. It feels fragile, though, like one wrong move could destroy it all.

“I feel…” Oliver shakes his head. “Ostracized.”

They just got on the plane to Dallas and it’s full of dads. And the dads are all making jokes and laughing and this isn’t Matthias’s first dads’ trip—the Bobcats had them, too—but it’s slightly surreal every time. Matthias has fled to the very last row with Oliver and Casey.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Casey says. He’s in the window seat, slowly untangling his headphones.

Oliver sighs at the gathered fathers. “It’s not my fault that I don’t have a dad.”

“We should do a moms’ trip,” Matthias says. Quietly, though. He doesn’t want to upset the dads, because the guys are obviously excited about this trip and the dads are having a blast already and they’ve not even taken off yet.

“We should,” Oliver says. “I have two of those.”

“Bunch of teams do a moms’ trip,” Casey says.

“I want one,” Oliver whispers. He holds Casey’s hand during takeoff, then swiftly nods off, which Matthias didn’t think was possible given how loud it is on the plane. They’re playing some card game two rows ahead and across the aisle, two dads are discussing power tools.

Matthias pulls up an old episode of Schitt’s Creek and tries to ignore the noise. About halfway through, he catches Casey watching. Matthias nudges his iPad so Casey can see better and turns on the subtitles. Casey’s lips twitch. Just a tiny bit.

The three of them have dinner together that evening, none of them saying a word about the dads. They have some team stuff coming up that they won’t be able to get out of, even though they don’t have anyone on the trip with them.

Matthias can deal with it—he’s not all broken up about being dad-less and Oliver clearly doesn’t give a shit and keeps making jokes, but Casey gets grumpier by the second.

They reach the absolute low point when one of the dads gives Casey a pat on the back after practice in Denver and says, “Must be tough not to have your old man here. Keep your head up, eh?”

Casey only nods and makes a run for it right after that.

Matthias shouldn’t follow him. Casey probably wants to be alone. But Casey checked on him when his grandpa was having emergency surgery and it wouldn’t sit right with Matthias if he didn’t do the same for Casey.

He finds him outside, typing on his phone.

“Casey,” Matthias says.

Casey turns to him, eyebrows raised.

Matthias doesn’t ask him if he’s okay. “You wanna grab a coffee?”

“No,” Casey says. He gives his phone another tap, probably to send off a text. “Fine.”

They take the bus back to the hotel with the rest of the guys, but they don’t actually walk in. Oliver shoots them a curious look when they split off from the group, but doesn’t come with them.

“Should we have brought Ollie?” Matthias says.

Casey shakes his head. “He’s gonna go take a nap. Anyway, you’re about to ask me why my dad isn’t here and Ollie has heard that story before.”

“I wasn’t going to—”

“Let’s at least buy coffee first.”

As they walk, it starts to snow and they duck into the first place that looks like it sells coffee. Matthias pays for Casey’s order, black coffee, and gets a vanilla latte for himself that Casey stares at like it’s on fire or something.

“You don’t have to drink it,” Matthias says and hands over Casey’s coffee.

They sit down in a corner, far away from everyone else in the café. It’s not too busy, so they can talk. If Casey wants to talk. He probably does, otherwise he wouldn’t have come.

Matthias takes a sip of his latte. Doesn’t say anything.

Casey plays with the cup sleeve.

“My dad left when I was four,” Matthias says. “I haven’t talked to him since I was… fourteen, I think. Yeah. It’s been over ten years. Kinda weird.”

“Why’d he leave?” Casey asks.

“Fell in love with someone else,” Matthias says. “They had two kids. Then he left them, too. Because, guess what, he fell in love with someone else.”

Casey’s lips are a thin line.

“He may have had another kid and then left that kid, too. Who knows.”

“You’re better off without him in your life,” Casey says and takes a sip of his coffee. Then he grabs his wallet. “I’m getting a cake pop.”

“What?”

“A cake pop.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but—”

“I’ll be right back,” Casey says.

Matthias doesn’t understand him. At all. One minute he thinks he’s getting to know Casey, the next it’s like he’s talking to a stranger.

Casey returns with two cake pops. He hands one to Matthias. Once Matthias has taken a bite, Casey says, “My dad left, too.” He stares at his cake pop. It’s covered in chocolate and has little snowflake sprinkles all over it. “The really fucked up part, though, was that he came back.”

Matthias tilts his head. “Why?”

“We were fine without him,” Casey says. “And then he showed up again. Told my mom he missed her and she let him come back. At first it was nice to have a dad again, they got remarried, had a big party and two years later we were right back to screaming matches in the kitchen and my dad calling my mom a whore for talking to my friend’s dad at the grocery store for longer than two minutes.”

“Sounds like—”

“An asshole. He was a jealous, possessive asshole.”

“Is he… dead?”

“Yeah.” Casey bites into his own cake pop now. “Died two years ago. Massive stroke, apparently.”

“Oh.” Matthias doesn’t know what else to say. Sorry for your loss? Doesn’t sound like it was much of a loss, though.

“Honestly, I just really want to forget about him.”

“Kinda hard with this trip,” Matthias guesses.

Casey shrugs.

Matthias eats the rest of his cake pop. “Okay, I need to know. How come you eat this but only drink black coffee?”

“I like both,” Casey says.

Matthias knows a thing or two about liking both, but you still couldn’t pay him to drink black coffee.

“Anyway,” Casey says, “we’re going back home tomorrow after the game, so…”

“So you can go back to not thinking about him?”

“Exactly.” Casey picks up his coffee. “It’s fine. Okay? Don’t worry about me. I just thought I should give you the whole story because you’ve been giving me the tragic face.”

“The what?”

“Your face. It’s very expressive.”

“Well, so is yours,” Matthias says. “You’re just pissed off all the time.” Or smug. Sometimes he’s smug. Right now, for example.

“I feel how I feel,” Casey says. “I mean, what’s the alternative? Sure, I can walk into the rink with a smile on my face every day, but it wouldn’t be a real smile.” He shifts in his seat. “Feel your feelings, Mattie.”

Matthias laughs. “Mattie, huh?” He thought that nickname had gotten lost somewhere between Tampa and Vegas.

“Brandy is a ridiculous nickname, let’s be real,” Casey says. “Anyway. I don’t see the point in pretending.”

“Maybe sometimes pretending a little bit wouldn’t hurt,” Matthias says, trying to keep it good-natured.

Casey chews on his bottom lip. He knows what this is about.

And maybe Matthias shouldn’t have brought it up, because this is the sort of thing that could destroy their peace, but he loves to stir shit too much.

“Maybe I was feeling my feelings a bit too much when you got traded here,” Casey says. “Do you want me to apologize?”

“Nah,” Matthias replies. “Unless you mean it.”

Casey laughs. “What makes you think I wouldn’t mean it?”

“Just a hunch.”

“Fair enough,” Casey says. “I’m not sorry that I had feelings. Admittedly, I could have been more—”

“Mature?” Matthias suggests.

“I’m sorry you had a tough time at the beginning of the season because of me,” Casey says. “I won’t do it again.”

“You won’t be a dick to me again?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure you wanna promise me that?”

Casey kicks him under the table.

Matthias grins at him.

“You didn’t actually want an apology, did you?” Casey says.

“No, I just wanted to watch you squirm. It was fun,” Matthias says. “Although the apology was nice. Thank you. Accepted.”

Casey pops the lid off his coffee so he can take a bigger sip. “Uh-huh.”

“Hey,” Matthias says. “We’re a good team. Don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Casey says.

Matthias kicks him back.

“We are. The best. Totally amazing,” Casey says. “Cup’s basically ours already.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Matthias grumbles.

“I don’t believe in jinxes,” Casey says.

“Seriously? So, say we won the Campbell Bowl, you’d just touch it?”

“I’d rub my hands all over it.”

Matthias narrows his eyes at him. “What if the Cup was here right now. Would you touch it?”

“Why would the Cup be here right now?”

“Just go with it. The Cup appears in this café, do you touch it?”

Casey shrugs. “I guess. I mean, I’ve touched it before.”

“Are you serious?” Matthias says. “So you’re cursed.”

“Curses aren’t real.” Casey rolls his eyes. “Come on, don’t tell me you actually believe in that kind of thing. Joking about it is fun and all, but no one really thinks you’ll never win the Cup if you touch it without winning it.”

“Mikko thinks we’ll lose a game if he doesn’t use a specific roll of tape,” Matthias says, deadpan. “Coop asks our equipment guys to sharpen his right skate first. Ollie draws smiley faces on his gloves. They do believe in that kind of stuff.”

Casey sighs. “Okay, good point.”

“So, yeah, we’re totally cursed because of you.”

“I was a kid, okay?” Casey says. “I didn’t even know I’d make it to the NHL. Or that players believed there was a curse or whatever.”

“Maybe that doesn’t count,” Matthias says. Objectively, he knows that curses aren’t real, but it doesn’t sit right with him that Casey has touched the Cup. It’s totally ridiculous. And Casey is laughing at him. “Stop laughing at me.”

“Do you believe in ghosts, too?” Casey asks.

“No,” Matthias says. Although his aunt swears that her dead grandmother visited her the night after her funeral to tell her where in the house she’d stashed a shit ton of money. His aunt did find the money, but if he told Casey that, Casey would laugh at him even more.

“You know, they do ghost tours in Vegas,” Casey says. “They take you out into the desert and go looking for ghosts with you.”

“Haha, very funny,” Matthias says.

“I’m not kidding, those tours are a real thing.”

Matthias narrows his eyes at him. Maybe he isn’t joking. “Whatever, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

“Right, you only believe in the Cup curse.”

“You’re being a dick again,” Matthias tells him.

“I’ll buy you another cake pop,” Casey says.

“That’s not a real apology.”

Casey smirks. “Not to you, maybe.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“YOUR BIRTHDAY IS on Valentine’s Day?”

Matthias shrugs. “So?”

“That’s so cute,” Oliver says. “Oh, oh, I’m gonna buy you roses.”

“Please don’t.”

“Chocolates.”

“Okay, I’ll take those.”

“Only the best for you, Brandy,” Oliver says and blows him a kiss before he bounces back to his own stall.

They don’t have a game on Matthias’s birthday, which he doesn’t mind at all. If they did have a game, he’d either spend the game on the bench, or he’d be in goal and then he’d potentially lose a game on his birthday. This is better. They’ll have practice in the morning and he’ll hang with the guys later. The single guys, that is. Because everyone else is taking advantage of the fact that they don’t have a game on Valentine’s Day for once.

“What do you actually want for your birthday?” Casey asks during practice. He must have overheard the conversation Oliver had with Matthias while they were getting dressed.

“I actually do like chocolates,” Matthias quips.

“You don’t want anything else?”

“Nah,” Matthias says. He has everything. Sure, it’d be great if his family could be here, but that’s not a realistic birthday wish. “I mean, my grandma’s schnitzel would be nice, but you’re not allowed to ship that sort of thing to another country, so…” Anyway, it would probably give him food poisoning by the time it got here.

“Chocolates, then,” Casey says and gives Matthias’s butt a tap with his stick.

Matthias should have known that he wouldn’t just get chocolates. He’s been playing hockey for a while. The guys love a holiday and they love a holiday even more when it coincides with someone’s birthday. Back on his AHL team, one teammate’s birthday was on Halloween, so the guys always filled up his gloves and gear bag with candy corn.

And Matthias has been on the other end of several Valentine’s Day jokes as well. In Tampa, Heartsy would shoot arrows at him with a cheap plastic Cupid bow and arrow. The social media folks loved to pick Matthias for whatever Valentine’s Day shenanigans they had planned as well. Funny content is everything.

Sadly, that’s no different in Vegas.

They pull him aside. Casey as well.

“We thought it would be fun if you guys wrote Valentine’s Day cards for each other for one of our videos,” says Monica from their PR team. “You know, say something nice about each other and working together as a goalie team.”

Matthias likes Monica. He doesn’t like her right now, though.

The PR team bought two actual Valentine’s Day cards for the occasion. Both of them are red and pink and have hearts all over them. Monica hands one of them to Matthias and the other one to Casey. Matthias’s also has glitter on it.

“You’re posting the video on Valentine’s Day, right?” Casey asks, opening up the card.

“That’s the plan,” Monica confirms.

Casey nods and starts scribbling.

Matthias glances at the camera, which he knows he’s not supposed to do. They can cut that. He hates doing media so much. He flips his card open and stares a little more while Casey just won’t stop scribbling. The blank page mocks him. What is he supposed to say? How did Casey know immediately what he’d write to Matthias? He’s totally going to embarrass himself. And he’s terrible at writing. Hopefully they won’t show it on camera because his spelling is atrocious.

“I don’t…” He taps his pen on the card. “This is hard.”

Casey’s lips twitch. He’s almost done.

“Just say something nice about Casey, it doesn’t have to be deep,” Monica says from behind the camera.

Matthias sighs and… writes something nice about Casey. He tries to ignore the camera and Monica and Casey, who is already done and waiting for him to finish because he wants to get out of here.

He thought it wouldn’t get worse, but when he’s finally done, Monica says, “Matthias, can you go first?”

Matthias tries to hand his card to Casey, but Monica shakes her head.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, we can cut that,” Monica says. “Just read it to him.”

“That’s smart,” Casey says. “He probably wouldn’t be able to read my handwriting.”

And Casey probably wouldn’t be able to decipher all of Matthias’s spelling mistakes. Matthias opens the card and clears his throat. “Dear Casey,” he reads out, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Casey laughs. Asshole.

“What I love about you the most is your winning personality.”

Casey actually giggles at that one.

“What I love about you the secondmost,”—Yeah, that’s not a word. Whatever.—“is that you keep pucks out of the net. You deserve a whole bouquet of cake pops on this wonderful day. Kind regards, Matthias.”

Next to him, Casey is barely keeping it together and Monica also looks like she’s trying not to burst out laughing. Well. Matthias did his best.

“Thank you, that was very nice,” Casey says, face red.

“You’re welcome,” Matthias says pointedly and hands Casey the card.

Casey takes it and flips open the one he wrote. He clears his throat. “Matthias,” he reads, “on this very special Valentine’s Day, I want to tell you that I couldn’t have a better backup.”

Oh, great, Casey actually wrote something nice.

“Your glove saves are outstanding. And you’re way better at handling the puck than I am, which really says something, because I’m excellent at handling the puck.”

Matthias can’t help but laugh. It’s true, Casey’s good at handling the puck, but Matthias is better. He just didn’t think Casey would ever admit that. Let alone on camera.

“Also, Happy Birthday. You’re totally the light of my life,” Casey goes on. “Love, Casey.” He flips the card shut and hands it to Matthias. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks?” Matthias says.

“Great, those were great,” Monica says. “Thanks so much for doing this.”

“Sure,” Matthias says. He tries to hand his card to Monica.

“Oh, you can keep those,” Monica says and waves him off. “Thanks again.”

Once Monica and her team have left to find their next victims, Casey taps Matthias on the head with his card. “I can’t believe you signed it kind regards.”

“I panicked,” Matthias says. “I learned how to sign letters in school, but that was the only thing I could remember. And, uh, yours sincerely, but this didn’t seem like a yours sincerely kind of situation either.”

Casey laughs. “Wow. I’m going to frame this.”

Matthias takes Casey’s Valentine’s Day card home. He puts it with his birthday cards, because Casey did say happy birthday, so it counts. Matthias doesn’t know what he’ll do with it after. If he’ll keep it. He shouldn’t. It would be ridiculous.

But Casey said something nice to him. Even if it was a joke, Matthias sort of likes having that in writing, which is also ridiculous.

For now, he can leave it there until his birthday is over.

Obviously, the guys don’t simply wish him a happy birthday. He’s got rose petals in his skates. A red feather boa draped across his stall.

“If you wear it, you get the chocolate,” Oliver says.

“Ugh,” Matthias replies.

He wears it.

The guys take pictures.

And Oliver hands him a single wrapped chocolate.

“Gee, thanks,” Matthias says.

“You’re so welcome,” Oliver says and pulls him into a hug, Mikko giving his ass a slap as he walks by.

While Oliver hugs him, someone else showers them with more rose petals. Or maybe they’re the rose petals from his skates. Matthias doesn’t want to think about it too much.

Their team Twitter also posts birthday wishes, but they follow it up with that Valentine’s Day video, so he gets chirped for the rest of the day—by the fans and his teammates. Most of the comments aren’t mean, though, so Matthias will live. He pauses at the lol true love and the now kiss kinds of comments, but he tells himself that those are jokes, nothing more.

When you’re on a team together, you get cozy. It’s unavoidable. He’s heard all the jokes and he mostly ignores them. They’re hard to ignore when it’s Casey, though. Because he has kissed Casey. He’s done a lot more than kiss Casey.

Matthias doesn’t want to think about that. All he wants to do is eat cake and take a long nap when he gets home.

He does take the nap. He’s a little short on cake, but he picks up cupcakes before Casey, Oliver and Bolt come over: the only single guys on the team. Everyone else is spending the evening with their wives and girlfriends.

“What about Coop?” Matthias asked Oliver after Coop told him that he couldn’t make it because he had an elaborate date planned. “Who’s he seeing?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Oliver said. “But Coop is never alone on Valentine’s Day.”

Matthias is never alone on Valentine’s Day either, but that has nothing to do with his love life. Just birthday stuff. He likes birthday stuff better than Valentine’s Day stuff anyway.

Oliver is the first one to show up, busy fixing the party hat he put on Minnie when Matthias opens the door. Bolt is already climbing out of his car, waving at them as he comes up to the house, a huge bag slung over his shoulder.

“What is that?” Matthias asks.

“I told you I’d bring snacks.”

“There’s four of us.”

“And Minnie,” Bolt says. “I brought snacks for her, too.”

Minnie is delighted to be the center of attention, performing all sorts of tricks for Matthias and Bolt for dog treats while they wait for Casey to arrive.

“We should just watch the Hawks game,” Bolt says. “I don’t care which one Casey wants to watch. If he wanted to have a say, he should have gotten here on time.”

Matthias snorts. “I’m sure he’ll get here soon, it’s not like he’s far away.”

“He’ll be here in ten,” Oliver says.

“Yeah?” Matthias says. “Pizza should be here by then, too.”

Oliver nods and then ducks into the kitchen. Like he knows something but doesn’t want them to ask any further questions.

Matthias doesn’t and just pulls up the Hawks game that’s starting in half an hour.

Casey gets there before the pizza, holding up a dish covered in aluminum foil, triumphant. “Happy birthday,” he says and hands it over.

“What is this?”

“Your present,” Casey says and pushes past him, into the house, cooing at Minnie and insulting Oliver’s outfit in the same breath. “Really, you’re wearing sweatpants to a birthday party?”

“It’s informal,” Oliver complains.

“No wonder you’re single.”

Matthias carefully peels back the aluminum foil as he wanders back into the living room. The smell of the food seemed familiar, but Matthias honestly can’t believe what Casey brought him until he actually sees it. “You made schnitzel?”

“I tried,” Casey says. “It’s probably not edible.”

Oliver sidles up to Matthias, peering at the food. “I’ll try one.”

“Brave,” Bolt says.

They all have one with a slice of pizza and it’s the weirdest birthday meal Matthias has ever had, but it’s also one of the best.

“So,” Oliver says, “I need a schnitzel rating.”

“Thank you, Casey,” Matthias says. “You know, for trying.”

Casey huffs.

“I’ll buy you a meat hammer, so they’ll be perfect next time.”

Casey shrugs. “I hit them with a rolling pin.”

“You have a rolling pin but no meat hammer?” Bolt asks.

“Who the fuck owns a meat hammer?”

“I do,” Matthias says. “My grandma gave it to me, so I could make schnitzel for myself. I’ve never used it, though.”

Casey coughs.

“Well, the best part of having schnitzel is when someone else makes it for me.”

Which Casey did. It was unexpectedly sweet of him. Matthias didn’t think Casey did stuff like this for other people. Maybe for Oliver. But for Matthias? They may have a real chance at becoming friends. Goalie buds.

The problem is that Casey ends up sitting next to him when they watch the game—Casey would have rather watched the Sailors—and Matthias has some decidedly non-friendlike feelings when Casey’s thigh keeps nudging his.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

MATTHIAS’S ALARM IS an offense to God. If God exists. Probably not, because if they were real, why would they allow an alarm like this to exist?

Since Matthias isn’t exactly good at getting his ass out of bed in the morning, he picked the alarm that sounded the most annoying. He regrets it every day. It’s not that they got shit-faced last night, but they stayed up late.

“Please turn it off.”

Matthias’s eyes fly open, finding a pair of feet next to his face. He sits up. “Ollie?”

“Hey,” Oliver says, sitting up as well. “Your alarm is beyond terrible.”

“I know,” Matthias says and lies back down. He needs a minute. The guys stayed over last night. Casey and Bolt are probably still downstairs on the couch, but Oliver decided he’d sleep in Matthias’s bed with him. Upside down, though. Oliver thought it was hilarious.

Oliver rubs his eyes. “Do you have a blender?”

“For smoothies?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course,” Matthias says. And unlike the meat hammer, he actually does use the blender.

“Do you have any kale?”

Matthias would rather die than buy kale. Which is what he also tells Oliver. “I have fruit, though. Fruit is healthy. Are you gonna die without a kale smoothie?”

“Yes,” Oliver says, the mattress shaking when he hops out of bed. “It’s fine, I need to head home anyway.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, because Minnie is downstairs and I can’t feed her dog treats for breakfast.”

“Oops,” Matthias says. He follows Oliver down the stairs and Minnie is already waiting for them, tail wagging. Matthias scratches her ears. “Good morning, best girl.”

As Oliver grabs her leash and pulls on his shoes, Minnie quickly abandons Matthias. “Yeah, yeah, we’re going. Brandy, I’ll see you at practice. Love you, bye.”

“Yeah,” is all Matthias manages to say before Oliver heads out the door.

He shuffles into his living room, expecting to find Bolt and Casey asleep on the couch. It’s just Casey, though. No sign of Bolt.

“Where is he?” Matthias asks.

Casey grunts at him.

“Bolt?”

“He left,” Casey mumbles and turns over, facing away from Matthias.

“Where’d he go?”

“Home.”

“Oh, uh…” Matthias looks down at Casey. Why is he still here? He could literally walk home. It would take less than five minutes. “Oliver left, too.”

“Figured,” Casey says.

“Are you…” Matthias shifts his weight from one foot to the other, trying not to stare at the stripe of bare skin where Casey’s shirt has ridden up. “Are you gonna get up?”

“Pretty sure my alarm is gonna go off in like ten minutes, then I’ll get up.”

“Okay,” Matthias says, voice low. He retreats to the kitchen, considering the contents of his fridge. He should probably make Casey breakfast. He has eggs. Omelet maybe? He has no idea what Casey even likes to eat for breakfast, because he’s not as loud about it as Oliver.

Casey definitely frowns upon kale, though.

Matthias is still staring into his fridge when Casey joins him, staring into the fridge with him for a moment. Then he reaches in to grab the leftover pizza from last night, puts it down on the counter, takes a slice, and starts munching on it.

“You got any coffee?” Casey asks.

Matthias stares at him.

“Instant is fine, too.”

“I can make coffee,” Matthias says. He takes a slice of pizza, too, before he turns to the coffeemaker. Lots of milk and sugar for himself, black for Casey.

They also eat the rest of the pizza. Don’t say a word to each other.

“I drove over here last night,” Casey finally says. “You want a ride to the rink?”

“Sure,” Matthias says. He wants to be friends with Casey, he wants things to be normal, and Casey giving him a ride to the rink is normal. “Thanks.”

Coach puts Matthias in goal for their next game. They’re playing against Ottawa, so strategy-wise it makes sense to let the backup have a go. Anyway, Casey can’t start every game.

And Matthias is doing a stellar job. He’s allowed to think that because it’s the beginning of the third and he hasn’t let in a single goal. He probably shouldn’t have thought that, though, because that’s when things start to go downhill for him.

One of the guys slides right into the goal, taking Matthias out in the process. It happens so fast, he can’t even tell who it is. And, crap, that didn’t feel good.

“Brandy, are you okay?” someone asks next to his ear.

Matthias doesn’t know how to answer that question. His mask got knocked off and he’s flat on the ice and he doesn’t even know where his stick went and he’s a bit rattled, to be perfectly honest.

“Can you get up?”

“Yeah,” Matthias says and gets on all fours. Sits up. His shoulder hurts. “Ugh.”

“Go get checked out,” Mikko says.

“I’m fine,” Matthias says and stands up. “See?”

Mikko glares at him. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

Over on the bench, Casey’s getting ready to come in, so apparently the team has collectively decided that Matthias can’t play anymore. Maybe they’re right. He barely even registers the tap one of the guys gives him before he skates to the bench, the sound of the cheers around him subdued.

“You good?” Casey asks.

“I guess,” Matthias replies. He goes down the tunnel because they’d likely pull him for concussion protocol anyway.

He gets checked out. No concussion, which makes sense, because it’s his shoulder that hurts. Nothing’s broken, but he may have to take a game off. No way he can catch anything like this. He’ll certainly wake up with a big ass bruise tomorrow.

By the time he walks back into the locker room, the game is over, and the guys are talking to the media and getting undressed. Matthias considers waiting until everyone’s starting to head out, but Oliver spots him immediately, like he’s been on the lookout for him.

“Hey, Brandy, what’s the verdict?” Oliver asks. “You okay?”

Matthias nods and sinks into his stall. He left most of his gear behind. Hopefully someone will grab that for him, because he sure as hell won’t. He’s going to shower and then he’s getting an ice pack and then he’ll ask someone to tape it to his shoulder so he can drive home with it.

Oliver sits down next to him. “What did they say? Are you gonna be able to—”

“Brandy, shit, dude, I’m so sorry,” Coop says.

“What did you do?”

“I murdered you,” Coop says.

“Wait, it was you?” Matthias asks. One of his own guys? He could have sworn there was a flash of white there.

“Someone shoved him into you,” Oliver says. “Total accident, though.”

“Seriously,” Coop says. “I swear I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” Matthias says.

Coop nods, visibly relieved—which isn’t an emotion Matthias thought Coop was capable of—and makes for the showers.

That’s where Matthias should go, too, he just doesn’t know how he’s supposed to get his shirt off without moving his left arm. Before he can come up with a plan, Casey sidles up to him. He just got done talking to the media.

“Shoulder?” Casey asks.

Matthias looks up at him. “Yep.”

“All good?”

“It’s… fine.”

“He’s lying,” Oliver says. “He’s not fine.”

Casey frowns.

“Honestly, I just need to take a few days off and I’ll be back, no worries,” Matthias says. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

Oliver pats his head.

“I’ll find you an ice pack,” Casey says.

“No, I will find him an ice pack,” Oliver says. “You need a shower, too.”

“Yeah, I don’t care who gets me the ice pack,” Matthias says.

When he gets back after his shower, it’s Casey who’s waiting for him with an ice pack. He’s sitting in Oliver’s stall next to Jannik’s, which is already deserted. Most of the room is empty. Coach checks in with him, someone tells him that they grabbed his gear in passing, someone else asks if he’s okay, Mikko asks if he needs a ride home.

“Nah, I can drive,” Matthias says. “I’m just sore, that’s all.”

He puts his clothes back on and Casey waits patiently, never saying a word. Once he’s dressed, Casey hands over the ice pack. Matthias sits down with it. Just for a minute. Or two.

“You need anything else?” Casey asks.

“No,” Matthias says. He leans back and closes his eyes. His night was going so well. “Hey. How’d the game end?”

“I took good care of your shutout,” Casey says.

“Yeah?”

“6–0. My gift to you.”

Matthias laughs. “Thanks.”

“You played a great game,” Casey says. “I just had to keep the door shut for seven minutes.”

“That’s very humble of you. I’m not used to that.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t last. I’m just doing this while you look like crap.”

“I don’t look like crap,” Matthias mumbles.

“You’re about to fall asleep in the locker room, you’re exhausted, and you look like crap. Just embrace it,” Casey says. “You sure you don’t need a ride home?”

“I don’t wanna leave my car,” Matthias says. Most of all, he doesn’t want to come back here tomorrow and pick it up.

“We can leave mine,” Casey says.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Okay, be like that. I was trying to be nice.”

“You need to stop,” Matthias says. “It’s unsettling.” Casey can’t be nice to him, because it kind of makes Matthias feel like he’s on his deathbed. Also, if Casey is too nice to him, Matthias might catch some inconvenient feelings. Like, he’s already having inconvenient feelings about Casey’s naked ass, he doesn’t need inconvenient feelings about Casey being nice to him on top of that.

Casey laughs. “You’re so hard to please. First you’re all, ‘Casey, don’t be so mean to me’, now it’s, ‘Casey, be meaner.’”

Matthias opens his eyes. “Yeah, that’s better.”

“So, are you looking forward to your bestie coming back?” Casey asks.

“Huh?”

“Well, you’re gonna be out for a couple of days, so I’m pretty sure Linus is gonna get called up.”

“I love Linus,” Matthias says. Linus is like an excited puppy. Maybe he’ll actually get to play this time. He moves his ice pack because it’s getting kind of cold now. “Ugh.”

“I’m gonna give you a ride home.”

“I’m not letting you drive my car.”

“It’s not even your car. You’re gonna give it back at the end of the season anyway.”

“Fuck, you’re so annoying,” Matthias says.

Casey elbows him in the side. “Not as fucking annoying as you are.”

“Careful, I’m injured.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re injured, huh?” Casey says. “Get your story straight.”

“Sorry, I don’t do straight,” Matthias says.

“Terrible joke,” Casey says. “Fucking awful. Go home.”

“I want to, but I also don’t want to get up.”

Mikko comes back into the locker room, shaking his head at them. “You’re still here?”

“I’m going,” Matthias says. “Really.”

He sits in his stall for another two or three minutes. Then he gets up. Casey follows him to his car, hovering by the door for a moment as Matthias gets in.

“I’m fine,” he tells Casey.

“I think if you say it one more time, a demon will appear and kill us all,” Casey says. He keeps hovering by Matthias’s car.

Matthias looks up at him. Grins. “You’re worried about me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You’re worried about me.”

Casey glares. “Whatever. You sure you can drive home?”

“Yeah, I’m f—”

“Good. Okay.” Casey says, face red, and marches down a few spots to his own car. “I’m not worried,” he shouts.

Matthias laughs and pulls his car door shut. It only hurts a little.

Okay, it hurts a lot.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

LINUS STAYS WITH Matthias while he’s in Vegas but once again he doesn’t get to start.

It’s all Matthias’s fault because he comes back after a few days and Linus gets sent back down before the Vipers hit the road. Matthias feels a little bad about it, but he healed quickly.

He starts one of the away games and it ends up being their only win on the road. They head back home for their last game of February, the Vipers’ Pride Night. It’s also their only home game against Tampa this season.

They land in Vegas in the middle of the night. Matthias crawls straight into bed when he gets home and sleeps until noon. He crawls back out of bed just to take a long ass shower, put on sweatpants and an old shirt, and then takes a nap. A short one. He doesn’t do anything remotely productive until Heartsy comes over after the Bobcats’ practice.

“Mattie,” Heartsy says when Matthias opens the door for him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in five years.”

“Hey,” Matthias says and lets Heartsy wrap him in a tight hug. “How’s it going?”

“Eh,” Heartsy says. “Looks like we’re gonna miss the playoffs. Yuri was out for a bunch of games and we lost nearly all of them. Girlfriend broke up with me.”

“Wait, when?” Matthias asks.

“Like… a week ago?” Heartsy shrugs and flops down on Matthias’s couch. “I didn’t wanna bug you while you were injured.”

“I wasn’t injured.”

“Whatever. What about you? How is life? Who are you smooching?”

“No one,” Matthias says. He kinda hates that Casey pops into his head. Because he’s not smooching Casey.

Heartsy narrows his eyes at him. “What is happening on your face right now?”

“Nothing.”

“You thought about someone. When I asked who you were smooching.”

“I’m not smooching him.”

“Oh, him, huh?” Heartsy wiggles his eyebrows. “Who is he? Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Matthias swats at him. “Did you only come here to interrogate me?”

“Yes, obviously,” Heartsy says. “Come on. Humor me. I feel like I barely know you anymore.”

“I call you all the time.”

Heartsy blows him a kiss. “I know, but it’s not the same as having you as a roomie. You wiped the kitchen counter when you spilled stuff and I miss that.”

Matthias laughs. “My only redeeming quality.”

“Oh, come on, you have all the best roommate qualities. You don’t bang pots and pans together at two in the morning because you were really craving a grilled cheese sandwich.”

Matthias makes a face. He doesn’t know Heartsy’s new roommate, because Lowell is one of the new additions from last summer, but yeah, if Heartsy had tried to make a grilled cheese sandwich at two in the morning, Matthias would have killed him. Or he would have asked him to make him one, too. It would have depended on what kind of day he was having.

Heartsy pokes him with his foot. “So. Smooches?”

“Not right now,” Matthias says.

“You disappoint me,” Heartsy says. “You should always say yes to smooches.”

“Stop saying smooches, it’s a weird word,” Matthias says. But he’s secretly glad that Heartsy is just the way he is. That he’ll joke about making out with him, even though he’s probably one of the straightest people Matthias has ever met. “Tell me what happened with your girlfriend.”

“She’s back with her ex.”

“Did she cheat on you?”

“Nah, she broke up with me first. Which is very decent. No hard feelings, honestly. I did cry about it, but I’ll live.”

“Do you want a hug?” Matthias asks.

“Smooches would be better.”

“Fine, but no tongue.”

Heartsy shakes his head. “Man, that’s a terrible deal.”

“I’ll throw in a beer.”

“Okay, now we’re talking.” Heartsy’s eyes go wide. “Oh, by the way, I brought you M&Ms. They’re… somewhere.” He grabs his backpack from the side of the couch. “Ah-ha.” He tosses Matthias the M&Ms. Dark chocolate. His favorite.

“What if I move back in with you and commute?” Matthias says. “It’s not that far.”

Heartsy grows serious. “Hey, jokes aside for a sec. Are you sad here, Matts, do you need to be rescued?”

“I’m not sad,” Matthias says.

“Is Wallace still being a dick to you?”

“No, he’s… I mean, he’s being a dick, but he’s being a dick to me the same way he’s being a dick to everyone else, which is great.”

“That’s fucking weird,” Heartsy says.

Some of the guys don’t want to put rainbow tape on their sticks. There are always guys who don’t want to put rainbow tape on their sticks.

Some of them say they’re superstitious. Matthias doesn’t want to jump to conclusions—maybe it’s true and that’s all there is to it. He believes it when it’s a guy like Coop. Coop won’t use the rainbow tape, but he wears the rainbow shirt and he signs rainbow pucks and he donated his two game tickets to a charity that helps homeless trans kids. With other guys, Matthias isn’t so sure.

Some come from countries that aren’t as liberal as the one Matthias grew up in. Maybe they’re scared. Maybe they don’t want to say so and pretend they’re superstitious instead.

He understands there are layers to this.

“Do you ever wonder how many of our teammates are homophobes?” Matthias asks Oliver before their morning skate.

“No. I think it’s better not to wonder.”

“What?” Casey asks, coming up behind them. He’s got a rainbow logo shirt that looks way better than the ones the team gave them.

“Hey, where’d you get that?” Matthias asks.

“He buys them online,” Oliver replies. “Anyway, Brandy was wondering how many of our teammates hate the gays and I’d say probably a solid twenty-five percent.”

“That many?” Matthias asks. Honestly, he would have gone for less than that.

“Oliver’s just jaded,” Casey says.

“I’ve heard too much shit in my life, sorry.”

Matthias sighs.

“Anyway,” Oliver says. “We should totally have a gay little get together after the game tonight.”

“I’m grabbing a drink with Heartsy and Yuri after the game,” Matthias says. “They’re not flying out until tomorrow morning.”

“Fine, cheat on us,” Oliver says and heads towards the room.

“Heartsy, huh?” Casey says.

“He was my roommate in Tampa.”

“Yeah.” Casey clears his throat, looks out the window. “Just your roommate?”

“Ew, yeah, just my roommate.”

“So you never hooked up with him?”

“He’s very straight, Casey. Like, very, very straight. Also, Yuri’s gonna be there. He owes me a beer.”

“Oh,” Casey says. Shuffles his feet. “Do they know you’re…?”

“Heartsy does.”

“Huh,” Casey says and wanders off.

Matthias follows him. “Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Just curious,” Casey says with a shrug.

“Okay.”

Casey stops in front of the locker room. Takes a look around. “It’s just that not every team has an Oliver,” he says and heads inside.

“Brandy, whatcha standing out here for?” Coop asks, marching down the hallway. He’s already in a Pride shirt, probably from last year.

“I was talking to… never mind.”

Coop gives him a pat on the back. The kind that could destroy someone who isn’t expecting it. “Come on, you’re gonna be late.”

He’s right. Coop is always the last one to show up and Matthias usually hits the ice with Casey before everyone else.

Matthias gets changed at lightspeed and miraculously makes it onto the ice before Casey. Just because Casey was still taping his stick, though.

“Hey, where’d you get the rainbow tape?” Matthias asks. He wants to put rainbow tape on his stick. He wants a shirt. A hat. Whatever they’ll throw at him.

“I bought it,” Casey says.

Their goalie coach chuckles.

Matthias likes Pride Night, though he knows a lot of queer folks don’t. It’s a performance, from start to finish, and at the end of the day, most of the people involved go back to not giving a shit until the next time. But Matthias gives a shit and this is the one day in the season where he can give a shit loudly without anyone asking too many questions.

Oliver sometimes wears a Vipers cap with a rainbow logo, even when it’s not Pride Night, but if anyone asks, he says it’s for his moms.

Before Matthias leaves the rink, he finds someone who can get him a rainbow hat for tonight’s game.

He’s not starting, but he still goes through his pregame routine, which involves sitting on the bench and doing eye exercises. Matthias loves the quiet of the empty arena. The staff are getting ready for the game, but they haven’t started letting people in yet.

Today, Oliver comes and sits with him. He’s brought his sticks and some tape.

“I didn’t mean to be a downer earlier,” he says, voice low. “When I said a quarter of the guys are probably homophobes. I could be wrong.”

Matthias turns to him. “You could be wrong. It could be more than a quarter.”

“Don’t even go there,” Oliver says. “Honestly, it probably depends on the team.”

“Probably,” Matthias says.

“I just want you to know that I’ll always have your back. Wallie, too, even though he’s bad at showing love and affection. I want you to feel safe on this team.”

“Do you? Feel safe on this team?”

“I feel safe knowing that I’m not alone,” Oliver says. “And I also know that not a single one of those guys would dare to say a single bad word about my moms. Would I stand in the locker room and make a big announcement about my own sexuality? Probably not. But if it ever came down to it, not that it will, but if it did… I think I’d be okay.”

Matthias has played it all out in his head. What would happen if he got outed? If there were pictures? He’s not been reckless, but he hasn’t exactly been careful either, so it’s something he’s considered. It comes with the territory.

It would be so unfortunate, but it wouldn’t be the end. Of the world, of his life, of his career. It’d mostly be annoying, probably.

“Anyway,” Oliver says, “I just wanted to say that. Because you’re clearly having a great time. As you should.” He starts taping his sticks, one by one. One with rainbow tape, for warm-ups, the other two black. “Ah, fuck it,” he says and adds a bit of rainbow to those two as well. Not on the blade, but it’s there.

“That’s nice,” Matthias says. He chews on his bottom lip, chews on a question. “You’re one of those people who thinks it’s totally meaningless, right?”

“Not completely. As long as it means something to someone, it’s important that we keep having Pride Nights, even if they’re just PR for the most part,” Oliver says. “But I think we could do more.”

“That’s true.”

“Even when I was little, there were kids who’d… they wouldn’t even say anything about my moms, but I could just tell, you know? That they thought it was weird.” Oliver shrugs. “And when I started to figure out that I was into guys, it didn’t really get easier. But I don’t have to tell you how much it sucks sometimes. Man, I just made it depressing again.” He hands his rainbow tape to Matthias, then he gets up. “Here. They’ve got a whole bunch in the room now.”

Back in the room, Matthias puts a bit more tape on his stick than strictly necessary, Casey watching with a smirk.

Heartsy waits for him at center ice during warm-ups, his stick covered in rainbows as well. “They left us some tape,” he explains when Matthias nods at his stick. “Obviously, I couldn’t not use it.”

“Thank you,” Matthias says.

“You know I love a rainbow,” Heartsy says. He gives Matthias a poke. “I’ll see you later for drinks.”

After warm-ups, Matthias throws his stick to a girl who’s wearing a rainbow flag like a cape. It’s a special occasion after all.

CHAPTER TWENTY

COOP’S BIRTHDAY IS on a game day, but it’s a matinee, so he throws a party. Of course he does. Matthias is exhausted just thinking about it, but everyone is going and Coop promised cake.

Matthias is in goal, they lose in overtime, and he’d rather just go home and go to bed. Yes, at five o’clock. Whatever.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Oliver tells him for the tenth time.

And, objectively, Oliver is correct. It wasn’t Matthias’s fault. He didn’t make a mistake. The goal that tied up the game was a rebound and he tried to get to it, but he’s pretty sure that not even Casey would have had that one.

“Eat a chicken nugget.”

“I don’t want a chicken nugget,” Matthias says, even though he does want a chicken nugget. He’s being difficult on purpose, which, yeah, okay, isn’t a great thing to be at someone else’s birthday party.

So he takes a chicken nugget.

“There, there,” Sid says and ruffles Matthias’s hair, hopefully not with the same hand that he’s been using to eat chicken nuggets.

“Look, it’s a point,” Bolt says. “A point is good. We’ll take the point.”

Matthias heaves a sigh, takes a second chicken nugget, and sits down next to Oliver. They’re out back by the pool. On the other side, people are dancing with Coop right in the middle, having the time of his life.

“I don’t get where he finds the energy to organize these parties,” Matthias says.

“He makes like five phone calls. That’s all it takes,” Oliver says.

“No way.”

“Seriously, I’ve watched him do it.”

“Also,” Matthias goes on, “how does he know this many people?”

“It’s people who know people who know him,” Sid says. “Theresa invites like a dozen people to these parties every time.”

“I don’t even know a single person in town who isn’t on the team with us,” Matthias says. That sounded kinda sad. And pathetic. He’s sad and pathetic. “Okay, I know my next-door neighbor, but I wouldn’t invite her to a party.”

“Eat some pizza,” Bolt says, batting his eyelashes at Matthias. “And bring us some, too?”

Matthias gets up to grab them a pizza carton from the kitchen. On the way, he runs into Casey, who’s talking to a handful of wives and girlfriends.

“Matthias,” Theresa says and pulls him into their huddle. “You’re single, too.”

“Uh, what?”

“We were just talking to Casey,” Greenie’s wife Ashlee says and winks at him. “We were trying to figure out who his type is so we can help him out.”

“Maybe you should help Matthias out instead,” Casey says, giving Matthias a pointed look.

Before Matthias can protest, Casey escapes.

Theresa turns to him. “So?”

“I, uh, like all girls,” Matthias says. “I’m not…” He shrugs, watching Casey weave his way through the partygoers, only to flop down in the seat Matthias vacated a few minutes ago.

Ashlee cackles. “That’s very cute. But everyone has a type. Like, at least a little bit?”

“Hm,” Matthias says. “I mean, it helps when you hate the same things, I guess.”

“Oh-hooo,” Theresa says. “Okay, okay, that makes sense.”

“What do you hate, then?” Ashlee asks.

Being here right now. But he can’t say that. “Uh, when we lose in overtime.”

The girls tease him for being such a hockey player for about five minutes, then he manages to duck away. Coop tries to rope him into a game of beer pong, but lets him escape when he tells him that he’s on a pizza mission, which is very generous of him to not make Matthias suffer.

The thing is, Matthias suffers anyway, because he’s having a bad fucking day and he wants to go home, but it’s not even ten yet. Maybe it’ll help if he has a minute to himself, so he ducks past the crime scene tape that Coop has put on his stairs along with a Staff Only sign.

Matthias ignores it and heads up a few steps where they disappear behind a wall, so he’s away from prying eyes. He’s just going to sit here for a little while. Take a few deep breaths. Text his mom, who’s probably fast asleep right now. He should text his grandma instead. She always gets up at six in the morning.

Instead of texting anyone, he opens Twitter. Big mistake.

They hate him.

Everyone fucking hates him. Apparently, he shouldn’t have been in goal in the first place. Oh, and doesn’t Coach Hargrave know that Matthias always loses in overtime? This was only the second time he played in an NHL game that went into overtime, but, yeah, he did lose both of them, so that is correct. And, also, if Casey had been in goal, they would have never gone into overtime in the first place. Or at least so says Twitter user VipersRule87.

“Hey, this is my hiding place.”

Matthias looks up from his phone. Casey is at the bottom of the stairs, his face in shadows, but Matthias knows his voice, deep and a little raspy.

Casey ducks past the Staff Only sign, too, and comes up to join Matthias. “What are you doing?”

“Hiding,” Matthias says. “I don’t… it’s not that I hate crowds, but I just…” He shrugs.

Casey huffs. “You’re moping, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.”

“What were you looking at? On your phone?”

“Porn,” Matthias says, deadpan.

“Uh-huh.”

Matthias unlocks his phone and shows Casey VipersRule87’s tweet. “And this, I guess.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Casey says, grabbing Matthias’s phone and closing Twitter. “That’s bullshit. Please tell me you know this is bullshit. There’s no way to predict how any other goalie would have played in this game. Actually, there’s no way of telling if any of those goals would have happened the way they did if I had been in goal. You go out to play the puck way more often than I do. As you should, because you’re good at it. That completely changes a game.”

“I know that,” Matthias says. Because he does.

“So why are you torturing yourself?”

“I’m not. I was just… sitting here. Perusing the internet.”

“Oh, perusing.”

“Yeah. Because…” Matthias shrugs. “Losing doesn’t feel good.”

“So you decided to make it worse. Makes perfect sense.”

Matthias rolls his eyes at him, even though it’s probably too dark for Casey to see. He can barely make out Casey’s face.

Casey shifts, his knee knocking against Matthias’s. He doesn’t move it away after, so it’s this small, warm spot, not even pushing against him, just there, and it’s the only thing in the world Matthias can focus on right now.

“What are you doing here?” Matthias asks to distract himself.

“Well, like I said, this is my hiding spot. And I came here to hide. Because, unlike you, I actually do hate crowds. Coop never lets anyone go upstairs, because he doesn’t want anyone to throw up somewhere in a guest room.”

“Ew,” Matthias says.

“Or fuck in a guest room, probably.”

“Double ew.”

“Anyway, sometimes I hide up here and Coop lets me, because he knows I won’t throw up anywhere,” Casey says.

“You okay?” Matthias asks, even though he’s not sure he should. There’s, like, a ninety percent chance of Casey snapping at him.

“Sure,” Casey says. “Just running out of excuses with the ladies.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He shifts again and that brings him even closer to Matthias. “Also, kind of running out of excuses with my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“I’m usually pretty good at finding reasons why she can’t come to visit. Mom, we’re about to leave for a roadie. Mom, we’re on a losing streak. Mom, my air conditioning isn’t working. You know.”

“Why, uh…” Matthias clears his throat. “Why don’t you want your mom to visit you?”

“I love my mom, don’t get me wrong. But I love her most in small doses. My mom is like the ladies. She means well, but she doesn’t know that it’s fucking annoying when she comes here and won’t stop bugging me about finding a girlfriend and getting married and having lots of babies.”

“She doesn’t know you’re gay?”

“Oh, she knows. She doesn’t deny that I’m gay either. She doesn’t have a problem with gay people. I guess she’s just sort of hoping that I’ll change my mind if I meet the right girl and that I’ll be like, never mind, I was wrong about the whole gay thing. I’m actually super straight.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” Casey says. “My sister argues with her about that. A lot. As much as her and I don’t really get along most of the time, I appreciate that she at least has my back when it comes to that. My mom doesn’t get that I can know that I’m gay without trying to be straight first.”

“So, you’ve always just… known?”

“Yeah. Maybe not always. It wasn’t exactly convenient, but I wasn’t in denial or anything. Ollie was definitely in denial, like, that’s not an assumption, he told me that.” Casey nudges Matthias. “Were you?”

“In denial?” Matthias asks. “Not really, no.”

“Hm,” Casey says, voice low. “Out of curiosity…”

“Please don’t ask me anything embarrassing about my sex life.”

Casey laughs.

Matthias wants to grab him and kiss him. “Fine, ask,” he says.

“Was I the first guy you hooked up with?”

“No,” Matthias says. He’s been with other guys. Two other guys. He turns to Casey, who’s still so close to him, squeezed onto the stairs beside him. He has no idea what the hell they’re doing here. Having an honest conversation? Sure, okay. So he’ll be honest. “You were the first guy I fucked, though.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh my God. Did you lie to me when you said it wasn’t bad?” Matthias asks.

“What?” Casey says. “Why are you so obsessed with your performance?”

“I’m not obsessed.”

“You are. I literally found you here checking Twitter to see what other people thought about y—”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Whatever,” Casey says. “You told me. When we had sex and I asked if you wanted to fuck me, you told me.”

“Oh. Right.” Matthias remembers that. Sort of. “This is a really weird conversation.”

“Why? We hooked up. It happened. And you said you didn’t want it to be a problem.”

“Yeah, I know…” Matthias trails off, his thoughts going up in a puff of smoke. Casey is too close. And he smells good. Like fruits. “It’s not a problem.” He remembers Casey tasting like fruits, too. When they kissed. “Actually, it is a problem. Because now I’m thinking about it. And I can’t think about it, because you’re…”

Matthias nudges Casey’s thigh and Casey catches his fingers, keeps them where they are. Matthias leans in, his nose bumping against Casey’s. “We can’t do this,” he says. He’s not shit-faced enough to make out with Casey. In fact, he isn’t shit-faced at all, so he should definitely know better.

Casey dips his head down, lips brushing against the line of Matthias’s jaw.

Matthias makes a soft noise that he so wishes he could take back, because this is nothing. What, a guy touches him and he completely loses his shit? He squeezes Casey’s thigh and Casey’s fingers twitch on top of Matthias’s before he lets go, giving him free rein. Matthias slides his hand up, Casey’s breath hitching.

This is such a bad idea. What are they gonna do, hook up on the stairs? They can’t do that. Sure, they’re mostly hidden from everyone else up here, but they’re not behind a locked door. Someone could show up at the bottom of those stairs any moment and see them and—

Matthias pulls away.

Casey, next to him, takes a deep breath. “Right. Sorry. That was…”

“Let’s just forget it happened,” Matthias says. Actually, nothing did happen in the first place.

“Good idea,” Casey says.

Matthias’s phone buzzes, the light of his screen offensively bright.

It’s a text from Oliver. “Ollie’s asking where I am. I should probably head back down there.”

“Yeah, sure,” Casey says. “I’ll, uh, join you in a bit.”

Matthias nods. Gets up.

Fuck, he hopes his face isn’t tomato red right now. He glances down at Casey, who’s staring at his feet. He wants to say something. Anything. It didn’t mean anything, Casey happened to be there, he just did it because they were talking about hooking up.

But those would all be lies. He wants Casey. He wants to touch him and kiss him and he wants him on his hands and knees and then he wants to tuck him in and kiss his forehead. That’s what he wants. And he sure as shit can’t say any of that out loud.

“We’re good, right?” Matthias says, voice low.

“Yeah. Just… go. We’re fine. I promise.”

“Okay,” Matthias says. And goes.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CASEY KEEPS HIS promise. They’re fine.

Neither of them mentions it, they go on with their lives, they play hockey. They play good hockey.

Well, Casey and the guys do. Matthias does his best. He wins one of his starts, loses the other two. He assumes that he’ll get a few more starts towards the end of the season, depending on which spot they’re in. If they’re at the top of their division and are set to stay there, Coach will probably bench Casey until the playoffs start. Rest him—that’s the right word. No one in their right mind would ever bench Casey Wallace.

They clinch their playoff spot on the road in Calgary. After the game, they all head to a bar close to the hotel, with some of the guys grumbling because they would have preferred going to a club. Matthias doesn’t care, just as long as he doesn’t end up in a tiny booth with Casey pressed up against him.

If Casey touches him ever again, Matthias will explode on the spot.

Oliver invited them over for a movie night a week ago and Matthias sat next to Casey for about five minutes, not-so-slowly dying, until he found an excuse to get up again—he offered to make popcorn—and sat down in the armchair when he came back.

It’s tempting to just get shit-faced and ignore Casey’s existence, but Matthias barely ever drinks when they’re on the road. When he’s getting his second Coke, a girl stops him at the bar. “Hey,” she says. “You’re one of the hockey players.”

“I am,” Matthias says. He doesn’t mention that he spent the game on the bench. “Did you go to the game?” Maybe she hates him because his team destroyed her team. Although she doesn’t look like she’s about to insult him.

“No, we just live close by and we get lots of hockey players here,” she says. “I’m Nicki. And this…” She tugs a girl into Matthias’s space. “This is my friend Yuki. She’s single.”

“Hi,” Yuki says.

“She thinks you’re really hot,” Nicki says brightly.

“That’s true, I do think that,” Yuki says. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I, uh…” Matthias holds up the Coke he just bought. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I swear I wasn’t trying to get you to buy me a drink, but yes, I’ll take one.”

Matthias turns to Nicki. “You want one, too?”

“Yes, totally, and then I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” Nicki says and winks. “I’ll just hide in a corner for a bit to make sure you don’t turn out to be a total douchebag. No offense.”

“No, that’s… valid,” Matthias says. “I can show you my ID if you want.”

Nicki laughs. “That’s very sweet. But I already googled you.”

“Oh, okay,” Matthias says.

“Sorry,” Yuki says when her friend has retreated to the other end of the bar. “She doesn’t actually think you’re a douchebag. She just watches too many TV shows where women get murdered by creeps.”

“Um,” Matthias says. Does he tell her he’s not a creep? Or is that exactly what a creep would say?

Yuki laughs. “It’s okay. Deep breath. So. The Vipers. Tell me more.”

Matthias says about one sentence about actual hockey before they dive into a lengthy discussion about The Mighty Ducks, which is followed by a not-as-lengthy discussion about movies they liked when they were kids and Matthias admits that he cried whenever he watched The Lion King.

“Oh, but that’s a normal movie to cry about. I cried about Beauty and the Beast because I didn’t like what the prince looked like at the end and couldn’t believe that Belle had to spend the rest of her life with him. It was shocking for little me.”

Matthias sort of forgets that he’s here with his teammates. Although he does catch Sid’s eye when he comes to the bar for another beer. Sid gives him a thankfully subtle thumbs-up before he heads back to the other guys. Matthias doesn’t exactly look for Casey, but he can’t find him anywhere.

“So,” Yuki says, “I understand you’re only here for tonight.”

“Yeah, we’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

Yuki nods, fingers tapping on the bar. “How would you feel about hooking up, not exchanging numbers, and never seeing each other again?”

“I’m down,” Matthias says.

Yuki comes to the hotel with him and stays until around six in the morning, at which point she pokes him awake, says goodbye and thanks for all the sex, and wanders out of his life, never to be seen again.

Matthias stays in bed until his alarm goes off, grin on his face, because they clinched a playoff spot and he had a great time last night and things are good. He’s going to buy some really sugary coffee before he gets on the plane.

Oliver meets him in the hallway before team breakfast, his grin broad. “Brandy. Look at you. Stud.”

“Gross,” Matthias says.

“I want deets.”

“I’m not giving you any.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Oliver says, hitting the button for the elevator. “You don’t kiss and tell.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Casey says behind them.

“Okay, this just got really awkward,” Oliver mutters and hits the elevator button again.

Casey coughs. “That’s not gonna make it come faster.”

“Anyway, it’s not awkward,” Matthias says. “I’m an adult, I’m allowed to have casual consensual sex with people.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.” Oliver shoves his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. “Sex is great.”

“You’re making it worse,” Casey whispers.

Matthias groans at them. “Can we not? It’s not a big deal, you two are being annoying.” Seriously, some guys pick up a girl on every fucking roadie. Some of those guys are married or have a girlfriend.

He catches Oliver shooting Casey a look that Matthias can’t read for the life of him, but then the elevator doors slide open and the thought of breakfast takes over and occupies a hundred percent of his brain.

Casey says even less than usual during breakfast, glaring at his plate, glaring at his coffee, glaring at Oliver, glaring at Matthias, glaring at the rest of the team. They’re extra loud this morning. Casey glares at his second coffee, too. It’s too much glaring, even for him.

He mostly goes back to normal when they’re on the bus, making retching noises at Oliver’s green smoothie that he slurps loudly next to Matthias.

On the plane, Matthias takes a nap while Casey and Oliver argue about pasta. Specifically about the correct pronunciation of gnocchi. They’re both wrong, but Matthias is too tired to tell them.

Once they’ve landed in Seattle, they’re taken to their hotel and then they have a late practice that not even the coaches take too seriously. After all, they do have a playoff spot, it is the middle of the afternoon, and they all just want to leave and grab dinner somewhere. Most of them are getting pizza together at a place that was—

“Recommended by Blake MacDonald?” Oliver says, cackling as they head into the restaurant. “Are you sure we trust him? He does try to kill us several times a season. What if he’s trying to give us all food poisoning?”

“Have you met him?” Coop says. “He’s a sweet old man.”

“Hey,” complains one of the vets behind them.

Matthias doesn’t often think about how old a player is when he’s that lethal—unless it’s someone who’s about to retire. Thing is, he hates thinking about retirement. Because guys who play until they’re forty, or even longer, are the exception, not the rule. It’s the star players more often than not and Matthias is very much not a star player. He’s not even sure he could be. Maybe he did, once upon a time. Hoped. Not even a star, just a starter.

Funnily enough, Coach puts him in net against the Sailors again. It’s been working. Matthias hasn’t lost against the Sailors ever since he came to Vegas.

It’s not the kind of thing Matthias expected Casey to be weird about. Matthias has been due for another start anyway, but Casey is huffy during morning skate and he’s huffy when they eat lunch together and he’s huffy when they head back to the hotel.

“What’s with you?” Matthias asks when they get off the bus.

Casey won’t even look at him when he says, “Nothing.”

Oliver coughs.

“What, you suddenly think I can’t win against the Sailors?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Casey says.

“Don’t say stupid,” Matthias snaps.

Mikko shoots them the most withering look. The children are fighting outside the team hotel and he’s not having it.

“So, what’s your problem?” Matthias says, voice low enough that Mikko won’t hear.

“I don’t have a problem.”

“You huff.”

Casey shrugs.

“At everything.”

That earns him a huff.

“See?” Matthias says. “You’ve been like this all day.”

Maybe even all yesterday and Matthias just didn’t notice. Casey didn’t sit next to him during dinner, so they didn’t actually interact much.

Instead of giving Matthias an answer, Casey squeezes into a practically full elevator with some of the other guys, so he doesn’t have to keep talking to him. Matthias narrows his eyes at him, but stops immediately when Mikko comes up next to him, giving him a truly suspicious side-eye.

“Do I have to mediate?” Mikko asks.

“No, thanks,” Matthias says, because Mikko’s idea of mediating is probably pitting them against each other in a goalie death match so they’ll get it out of their systems. He turns to Oliver instead, because Oliver knows Casey to his bones. Is that how you say it? That you know someone so well that you’re even familiar with their skeleton? The parts no one can see? “What’s his problem?”

“Oh, I’m not getting involved,” Oliver says.

“So you know.”

“Yep.”

“And you won’t tell me.”

“Because it’s none of my business,” Oliver says, slowly, calmly, like Matthias is a toddler who is unwilling to understand that he can’t have a second ice cream.

“But he told you.”

“He didn’t tell me. I just know.”

Matthias groans. “You wouldn’t even be telling me a secret, you’d just be sharing a suspicion.”

“Brandy, no offense, but this one’s pretty easy to figure out.”

“It’s not,” Matthias whines, because if it was easy to figure out, he would have had it all figured out already and wouldn’t have to bug Oliver about it while they’re waiting for an elevator in a hotel lobby.

“Ugh,” Oliver says and tugs Matthias away from the other guys. “Fine. Here’s several hints for you: You. Casey. Last Summer. You. Pretty girl. Two nights ago. People have feelings. Okay? Okay.”

Before Matthias can reply, or form those hints into one coherent thought, Oliver flees and squeezes into a nearly-full elevator, exactly like Casey did.

Matthias gets on the next one with Mikko. Mikko’s always last, like he’s making sure none of his ducklings get lost in the lobby and can’t find their rooms. Coach is with them, too, texting furiously.

This is quite possibly the most awkward elevator ride of Matthias’s life.

Mikko isn’t saying a word, but Matthias can’t shake the feeling that he knows something. Was Mikko with the guys they ran into last summer? Did he see Casey and Matthias? Did he put two and two together? If he did, if he says something to Matthias, dying of embarrassment is Matthias’s only option. Mikko obviously wouldn’t say anything in front of Coach, or any of the other guys, but Matthias still makes sure to get out of the elevator first and speed walks down the hall to his room, so Mikko can’t get any ideas.

He can go talk to Casey instead, because Casey is the one with the problem.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CASEY AVOIDS HIM.

Not in a silent treatment kind of way. It’s more subtle than that. So subtle that Matthias is sure the other guys have no idea what’s going on. Casey just doesn’t look at him anymore. Whenever he does, he looks away as soon as Matthias notices. And he only talks to Matthias when he has to, when someone would notice if he didn’t.

Casey starts the next three games and they clinch the first seed in their division. It’s not enough to get to the top of the league, but that doesn’t really matter. They don’t need to be top of the league, they don’t need the President’s Trophy. Just the Cup is good, actually.

They’re not there yet, though.

They have two games to go after this, one at home, one on the road. It’s likely Matthias’s last two games of the season. Casey won’t be playing because no one’s going to risk him getting injured in a game that doesn’t really matter.

After they’ve locked down the top spot, Coop comes into the locker room shouting, “Party at my place after this, bring a plus one, fuck, bring a plus two, I don’t give a shit!”

Matthias will have one drink. One.

He takes his one drink and the two chicken nuggets Sid gives to him to the other side of the pool, where he sits down in a beach chair and counts the seconds until he gets to go home. Which will be around midnight. Matthias used to enjoy going to parties, but he doesn’t when Casey is being the way he’s being. A total fucking dick, that is.

He’s sitting across the pool, talking to Oliver.

Matthias has been thinking about the hints Oliver gave him. They’re not really hints at all, if you ask Matthias. What he was trying to say was probably that Casey was pissed that Matthias hooked up with a girl. Matthias just can’t figure out why Casey would be pissed. Because Matthias is bi and—shock, horror—sleeps with girls? He’s pretty sure that Casey doesn’t care about that. So, what, Casey is jealous? Yeah, right. Matthias is pretty sure that jealousy doesn’t exist in Casey Wallace’s world.

Across the pool, Oliver leaves to hug Mikko from behind. Mikko doesn’t throw him into the pool for it, so he must be in an exceptionally good mood. The problem is, Casey’s not distracted by him anymore, so he can look around. And as he looks around, he catches Matthias staring.

Matthias could look away, but he doesn’t. Casey does look away for the briefest of moments. Then his eyes are back on Matthias.

Matthias won’t look away first. This is a game now and he wants to win.

Casey is clearly trying to look unimpressed, but it’s not working.

A strand of hair that’s come loose from Matthias’s bun falls into his face. He tucks it back behind his ear, still refusing to break eye contact.

Casey chews on his bottom lip. Takes a sip of his drink.

Matthias does the same.

He thinks of the staircase. Wonders if Casey is thinking about it, too. Matthias remembers Casey’s lips against his jaw, his thigh under his fingertips, inching up. And, honestly, there’s nothing platonic about all this staring.

Matthias goes out on a limb and leans back in his chair. Spreads his legs the tiniest bit. Raises his eyebrows at Casey.

Casey takes a deep breath. Doesn’t move otherwise.

But Matthias got a reaction out of him and Casey is still looking. Matthias looks back at him for at least another minute, then he gets up, breaks eye contact. He wasn’t going to budge, but there’s only one way this is going to end and he’s been wanting to leave anyway.

He walks around the pool, weaving through the guys, their girlfriends and wives, their friends, people he’s never met in his entire life, and comes up behind the outdoor sofa Casey is sitting on. Matthias leans down, arms on the back, gets close to Casey’s ear, and says, “Take me home?”

Casey’s breath hitches. “No fucking way. We’re not doing this.”

“Okay,” Matthias says. They definitely are doing this. Casey just needs another minute to arrive at that conclusion, too. Matthias pulls back and leans against one of the wooden pillars that hold up the patio roof.

Then he waits. And he doesn’t even have to wait for very long.

Casey doesn’t move at all for a minute, then he looks around, finds Matthias behind him, licks his lips, gets up. “I’ll order us a car,” he says to Matthias in passing. “Meet me outside.”

Matthias feels weirdly triumphant—until he realizes that this means that he’s actually going home with Casey, that this isn’t just a fleeting slipup on a staircase anymore.

He moves slowly, trying to seem casual, but he runs into Oliver in the house when Oliver comes out of the kitchen with another plate full of dinosaur chicken nuggets. “What are you doing?” Oliver asks.

“Going home,” Matthias says. “I’m tired.”

“Interesting. Casey’s going home, too. He’s also tired.”

“Um.”

“Oh, for the love of fuck,” Oliver says, shaking his head. “No, you know what? None of my business. Use condoms. Bye.” With that he heads back outside, leaving Matthias in the empty hallway.

Matthias briefly considers finding Coop to say goodbye, but then Coop may try to talk him into staying, so he heads out front, where Casey is already waiting on the sidewalk, phone in hand.

“Seven minutes,” he says.

“Hmm.” Matthias stands close to him. Too close, much closer than he should. “Were you—”

“No, let’s not, really,” Casey says. “Let’s just stand here and wait for Brad and his Toyota Camry.”

“Fine with me,” Matthias says. He doesn’t move away, though, and continues to stand next to Casey with their arms touching, Casey impatiently checking his phone for when their car will show up.

When it does, Matthias gets in first. They let Brad do all the talking, which isn’t much either. He asks them if they’re here on vacation, Casey says yes, probably glad the guy didn’t recognize them, and Brad lists a bunch of the tourist hotspots they shouldn’t miss out on before he drops them off at Casey’s.

Matthias follows Casey to the front door, leaning against it while Casey sorts out his keys.

“Casey,” Matthias says. “I can still go home. It’s not far.”

“Oh, first you’re all, ‘Casey, take me home,’ and now you want to go home?”

“I don’t want to go home, but I will if you tell me to.”

“I won’t tell you to, though,” Casey says and the lock clicks. “So I guess you have to make that choice yourself.”

“Okay,” Matthias says and follows him inside, making his choice. He takes off his shoes by the door. “I want to say something, though. I know you don’t want to talk and that’s fine, but I need to say this one thing.”

Casey leans back against the door, tilts his head. Go ahead.

“I hate it when you treat me like shit just because things didn’t go your way,” Matthias says. “I slept with that girl and it had nothing to do with you. I don’t know what your problem was and I don’t even really want to know, but you have to stop letting it out on me. Okay?”

“Okay,” Casey says, voice low. He doesn’t say sorry.

Matthias doesn’t need him to say sorry. He takes a step closer and reaches under Casey’s suit jacket, touches his sides, feels him squirm. He plasters himself against Casey and stands on his tiptoes to kiss the side of his neck. Casey’s arms come up around him, pull him in.

“I wanted you to take me back to your room that night,” Casey says. It comes out in a whisper.

For a second, Matthias isn’t sure which night Casey is talking about. When they nearly kissed on the staircase? No, he said back to your room. He means that night in Calgary.

“Could have just said so,” Matthias mumbles, presses in close. He wants to touch Casey everywhere. He wants to completely take him apart. Fuck, he may have taken Casey back to his room that night if he’d asked.

“I really couldn’t have,” Casey says. He tips his head back against the door. “You have no fucking idea how much I don’t want to think about you all the time.”

“Did you just insult me?” Matthias says, lips against Casey’s throat.

“How did you hear me say that and think insult? Seriously?”

“Say it again.”

“No.”

“You think about me,” Matthias says, pulling at Casey’s shirt until he can get his hands on warm, soft skin. “All the time.”

“Oh, so you did understand what I was saying.”

“Yeah, I was just confused, because you make everything you say sound like you’re insulting me,” Matthias complains and starts undoing Casey’s belt. “I’ve been thinking about you, too.”

“I know.”

“Oh, do you?”

“You’ve been staring,” Casey says. “It was annoying.”

“Only because you were being annoying first,” Matthias says and pushes down Casey’s pants along with his briefs. Casey’s breathing is fast and he’s getting hard. Matthias hasn’t even touched his dick yet. He’s having a great time. “Casey?”

“What?”

“I’m glad you took me home.”

Casey doesn’t reply. Probably because he’s not glad that he took Matthias home. Casey doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head so he can kiss Matthias, coaxing Matthias’s lips open with his tongue and, fucking hell, when Casey is sober, he’s pretty much the exact opposite of a sloppy kisser. This is some precise shit. Every move Casey makes is exactly right, the way his hand runs down Matthias’s back, the way he stops just before he makes it to Matthias’s ass, the exact right kind of not enough that makes Matthias want him so much more.

He does have a hand on Casey’s naked ass, and he’s pretty sure Casey likes it. He can feel that Casey likes it.

Matthias almost wants to ask Casey if he’s been thinking about kissing him like this ever since they sat on that staircase together at Coop’s, but he’s not sure if he can actually form words right now. And maybe he already knows the answer to that question anyway.

While Casey reduces him to a mess with his mouth, Matthias tries to get the buttons on Casey’s shirt open, tries to shrug off his own suit jacket. It lands on the floor and Matthias doesn’t give a shit if it stays there all night.

Then Casey finally gives him a nudge and says, “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CASEY KISSES HIM as they move down the hallway, hungry, moaning when Matthias pulls at his hair. Casey’s hand goes right to Matthias’s ass then, not so precise anymore, squeezing, pulling him in. They bump against a wall, but it doesn’t deter them. Casey grabs him, lifts him up, and Matthias shudders all over, clinging to Casey as he carries him into his bedroom, unceremoniously dropping Matthias on his bed.

“Just so we’re clear, this is a one-time thing,” Casey says and pulls off his shirt, all business.

“This is the second time we’re getting naked together, I don’t think—” Matthias stops talking when Casey climbs into bed with him.

Casey presses a finger to his lips. “Shush.”

Matthias grins at him, curls his hand around Casey’s wrist to keep his hand right where it is and sucks at his finger, which has all sorts of things happening on Casey’s face. Heat pools low in Matthias’s stomach at the look Casey gives him. There’s that hunger again. Matthias takes a second finger and makes a show out of it, watching Casey melt a little.

It’s not that he was too drunk to remember when he fucked Casey last summer, but Matthias likes this way better. He wants to blow Casey’s mind out of spite. One-time thing? Fine, if that’s what Casey wants. But Matthias will make sure that it’s the best one-time thing of Casey’s life.

He eventually abandons Casey’s fingers and gets to work on his pants, which he inconveniently pulled back up before he picked up Matthias. He just picked him up like it was nothing. That’s definitely going to haunt him.

Matthias palms Casey’s dick, getting a groan as a reward, Casey still hovering above him, eyes half-lidded, breathing heavily as Matthias rubs at his dick through the fabric of his briefs.

“You should take those off,” Matthias says and Casey glares but slides back off the bed to do just that.

Matthias wiggles out of his own pants in the meantime. Casey helps him pull them off, then grabs Matthias’s shirt and gets rid of it as well before he tugs at the sock still left on Matthias’s foot. The other one has already disappeared with his pants.

For a moment, Casey looks down at him, sprawled out on his bed and Matthias cants his hips up just a little, smiling when Casey licks his lips. He’s back on top of Matthias a moment later, kissing him, teeth sharp against Matthias’s lips, his dick sliding against Matthias’s, both of them moaning.

Matthias grabs a fistful of Casey’s hair and pushes up against him with purpose, the sound of Casey’s whine zapping through him like lightning. He hooks a leg around Casey, pushing until Casey grinds against him again, and Matthias has no doubts whatsoever that they could get off just like this if one of them tried to get a hand between them. But that seems too easy, not exactly mind-blowing, so Matthias nudges Casey until he rolls off him and Matthias can get on top, straddling his hips, Casey’s hair spread on the pillow like a dark halo around his head.

Fingers laced with Casey’s, Matthias pushes Casey’s hands down against the mattress and tips his head down to nip at Casey’s jaw.

“What do you want?” Matthias asks. For the record: Casey can have anything from him right now. All he has to do is say the word.

“Fuck, I don’t… even know.”

Matthias grinds against him. “Wanna fuck me?”

Casey’s breath hitches the tiniest bit. Matthias is so glad he isn’t drunk tonight because he didn’t remember that from last time. All those little noises Casey makes. Those are going to haunt him, too.

“Want me to fuck you? I’m pretty sure you’re not starting on Thursday if you’re worried,” Matthias goes on, lips brushing against Casey’s throat. He lets go of Casey’s hands and works his way down, not really expecting an answer, just going with the flow until Casey tells him what he wants.

He bites at Casey’s nipple before he goes lower, kissing his way down his stomach, Casey squirming underneath him. He ignores Casey’s dick for the time being, kissing his hipbone instead, going down to his thigh, grazing his teeth against the soft skin there, sucking until he’s sure that Casey is going to have a mark right there tomorrow, and no one’s even going to notice, because it’s not a rarity that they walk out of a game with bruises. But Matthias will know and so will Casey.

Fingers sneak into Matthias’s hair, pulling off his hair tie, tugging gently. A lot more gently than he’d expect from Casey. He looks up and finds Casey looking back at him, his face flushed, lips parted. And Matthias can’t not kiss him right now, so he crawls back up, pressing a fleeting kiss to Casey’s dick on the way.

For a while, they just kiss and, shit, it’s even better than before. Casey kisses him like he knows exactly how Matthias likes it, hands wandering, slowly sliding down his sides, to his ass, making Matthias shiver. He tries to reach for Casey’s bedside table while keeping his lips attached to Casey’s, but he ends up having to move, fumbling for the lube and the condoms Casey keeps there, while Casey traces his spine with the tip of his finger, down, down, down…

Matthias sits up, throwing off Casey’s hand, and settles between his legs, considering his options.

“Are you going to do something?” Casey asks.

Matthias lightly pinches his leg and Casey sucks in a sharp breath, biting down hard on his bottom lip. Matthias opens up the lube and teases Casey with the tip of his finger until he starts to complain, until he says please, the sheets bunched up between his fingers, moaning Matthias’s name.

And Matthias was going to fuck him, but maybe this is better, because now he can curl his fingers just so and Casey will moan and writhe and he’s a mess already and Matthias just loves watching him fall apart like this. He kisses the base of Casey’s dick before he takes him into his mouth, takes him as deep as he can. Casey gives him the feeblest of warnings before he comes, but Matthias stays right where he is, curling his fingers again, delighting in the noise Casey makes.

He pulls off slowly, Casey hissing when Matthias pulls out his fingers. He wipes them on the sheets and Casey hisses again. “Shh, you were gonna wash them anyway. I hope,” Matthias says and kisses Casey’s softening dick again, which earns him another hiss that somehow sounds different from the other two.

Casey pulls him back up to kiss him, tongue sliding against Matthias’s, slow and languid, fingers wrapping around Matthias’s dick, jerking him off, taking his time with it, keeping him on the edge. Matthias holds onto him, barely kissing him anymore. His fingernails are digging into Casey’s skin, probably leaving more marks.

He’s so close, but then Casey slows down again. “Come on,” Matthias says, bucking his hips.

Casey bites Matthias’s bottom lip in reply.

Matthias slides his fingers into Casey’s sweaty hair and tugs hard. “Casey,” he says and kisses him and Casey finally, finally starts moving his hand again, faster now, exactly right—well, they have done this before. Maybe Casey remembers what he likes. Maybe he did think about doing this again. He already admitted he’s been thinking about him. Matthias moans against the corner of Casey’s mouth when he comes.

They lie very still for a few minutes, catching their breath, then Casey grabs a handful of tissues and cleans Matthias up as best as he can. He chucks the tissues on the floor after, which must pain him, since his place is so fucking spotless otherwise.

Matthias never wants to move again. So it’s a good thing that Casey is close because that makes it easy to lean in and kiss him again. Casey kisses him back and Matthias hooks a leg around him, hands still roaming, fingers exploring skin, trailing over the spot where his fingernails were digging into Casey’s back.

Time is ticking away, but Matthias barely notices. And Casey clearly isn’t interested in kicking him out, getting hard again, grinding against Matthias’s thigh. Matthias keeps kissing him for a little while longer until it’s pretty clear that they’re going for another round.

He nudges Casey. “Lie back,” he says and Casey does, watching him as he grabs the lube again and finds the condom he grabbed earlier, now hidden in the crumpled sheets. “Okay?”

Casey nods, letting out a soft breath when Matthias’s fingers sink back into him, taking them easily with a drawn-out moan.

This is nothing like the drunk sex they had last summer and it’s nothing like the sex they had forty-five minutes ago. Matthias goes slow, dips his head down to kiss Casey’s collarbones, the line of his jaw. Casey hooks his legs around him, urging him to move.

Casey told him this wasn’t going to happen again, but Matthias can’t keep his mouth shut this time, he tells him how good he feels as he fucks him, tells him how perfect he is, how much he wants him, and maybe Casey will think it’s just nonsense, or maybe Matthias is telling him way more than he should be.

He barely has to touch Casey to make him come, Matthias following as Casey clenches around him, hot and tight.

“Fuck,” Casey says, his voice cracking the tiniest bit.

Matthias gives them both a moment before he pulls away and climbs out of bed, picking up the tissues from the floor as he shuffles into the bathroom.

When he comes back, Casey is right where he left him, except he’s pulled the sheets up to his chest, watching Matthias. His hair is a mess, his skin blotchy, and he looks fucking debauched. Matthias has a problem. A big, huge, massive problem. And it’s lying right there.

He’s almost expecting Casey to tell him to turn off the lights on his way out.

He doesn’t say anything, though. He just stares. At Matthias. Who’s standing at the end of his bed, staring back at him. Completely naked.

“Can I stay the night?” Matthias asks. He doesn’t want to get dressed and walk home, still sticky and gross.

Casey takes a deep breath, then he pulls the sheets back. “All right.”

Matthias does hit the light switch before he slips into bed with him, pulling at the sheets until he’s comfortable.

“Don’t complain if I kick you,” Casey mumbles.

“You didn’t kick me last time.”

“Maybe you were too drunk to notice.”

Matthias huffs at him. Maybe he really was, though. He barely remembers falling asleep next to Casey last time. Doesn’t remember if he asked if he could stay or if he just did because he was too lazy to head back to his hotel.

He closes his eyes, but he doesn’t fall asleep, way too aware of Casey and how warm he is and how much he wants to scoot into Casey’s space and wrap his arms around him and wake up with their limbs tangled. Matthias isn’t even a cuddler. He always hated it when he was still with his ex, but with Casey, he can barely keep his hands off him. He’s pretty sure Casey isn’t sleeping either.

Eventually, Casey slips out of bed, padding to the bathroom. He leaves the door open a crack and Matthias stares at the strip of light on the ceiling, trying not to think about tomorrow. Are they going to pretend this didn’t happen, like they pretended they didn’t nearly kiss on the stairs?

When Casey gets back into bed a few minutes later, he’s definitely closer to the middle than he was before. Might be a coincidence. It probably is. But Matthias can’t bring himself to give a shit, not tonight, so he rolls over and plasters himself against Casey.

And Casey lets him. He shifts and tucks his head into the crook of Matthias’s neck and that’s how Matthias finally falls asleep, with Casey’s hair tickling his chin.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

HE DOESN’T WAKE up with Casey’s hair tickling his chin.

Casey has rolled away from him, now sleeping on his back, one leg still hooked around Matthias’s. Which means Matthias can’t get up, because if he does, he’ll wake up Casey.

It’s early. Barely five in the morning.

If he wakes up Casey now, he’ll probably kill him. Casey is so not a morning person. 8 AM Casey is full of hate, so Matthias doesn’t even want to imagine 5 AM Casey.

Matthias does the only thing he can do in this situation—he closes his eyes and listens to Casey’s breathing. Casey is snoring, but quietly, completely dead to the world. He didn’t even think about having Matthias in his bed, just went to sleep and that was that. Matthias should approach this the exact same way. No thoughts, just sleep.

There are no thoughts to have anyway. Casey doesn’t want this to happen again, which makes sense, because they’re about to head into the playoffs. It’s going to be tough for him. Matthias only has to sit on the bench, while Casey is the one who’ll have to deal with the blame as soon as he doesn’t win games consistently anymore.

No one’s made it all the way to the Cup without a single loss. The Vipers won’t be the first ones. Chances are, they won’t even make it through the first round without a single loss. It’s part of the game, but no one likes to watch their team lose. Obviously. And the goalie is always the easiest to blame. He let the puck into the net, right? So he must be the one who fucked up. Most people ignore the weird bounces that the best goalie in the world couldn’t stop, they ignore the fuck ups that happen before the puck even makes it to the goalie. Most of the time, giving up a goal is a team effort.

Next to him, Casey shifts the tiniest bit. His arm is closer to Matthias’s now. Matthias could move a finger and hook it around Casey’s hand. Which. Yeah. Nope. They had sex, but touching Casey like this seems like too much now. Like he’d be overstepping an invisible boundary that they never even talked about.

Matthias was hoping that maybe after sleeping with Casey, he wouldn’t feel like putting his hands on him so much anymore. That he’d be more chill about this. That he wouldn’t jerk off thinking about Casey anymore, because, honestly, that’s just inappropriate. They’re teammates. Teammates who had sex, sure, but for the past few months they were just buddies, just pals, just coexisting peacefully.

Matthias sighs.

Casey twitches.

Shit.

Matthias holds his breath.

“Are you awake?” Casey mumbles.

“No,” Matthias replies.

“Go back to sleep, I’m not getting up yet.”

Matthias sighs again, but at least he can move now, so he turns over and tucks himself against Casey.

“Seriously?” Casey mutters, but pulls at Matthias’s wrist to tug his arm properly around him.

This will get uncomfortable fast. Unless Matthias falls asleep. He squeezes his eyes shut. He has to sleep. Casey’s fingers twitch against his wrist, then he huffs and pushes Matthias’s arm away.

Yep, got uncomfortable fast.

Casey turns over and finds Matthias’s lips in the dark. Good. Okay. Matthias can work with that.

Neither of them bothered to put on clothes last night. Casey’s movements are lazy at first, with one hand gripping Matthias’s thigh just below his ass while Matthias struggles to keep his hands still. He takes a deep breath, tries to focus on Casey, and tries not to rush it, because chances are this really is the last time he’s getting his hands on Casey like this.

Afterwards, Casey hits the lights, blinking at Matthias. His hair is all over the place and he has a bruise right under his collarbone that Matthias is pretty sure is from his mouth and not from a stray puck. He wants to touch it. He doesn’t.

“You wanna shower first?” Casey asks.

So, this is not a shower together kind of situation. Okay, then. Casey’s shower is definitely big enough for the both of them, but whatever. At least Matthias gets to shower before he leaves. Much better than last time. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Casey slides out of bed at the same time Matthias does. Completely naked. Matthias briefly thinks about grabbing a pillow to cover himself, but Casey has gotten close and personal with his dick, so there’s no point, really.

“You want coffee?” Casey asks, grabbing his briefs from the floor.

“Sure.”

“Milk and sugar?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“A fuckton?”

Matthias can’t help but grin. “Sounds perfect.”

Casey rolls his eyes and shuffles away, only to return a moment later. “You know where the towels are? Big ones are on the shelf in the middle.”

“Thanks,” Matthias says again.

Casey nods and leaves Matthias to it.

“I think there’s an extra toothbrush in the drawer,” Casey shouts from the hallway.

Thankfully, Casey has a straightforward shower, not the kind of spaceship-style contraption that takes ages to figure out. Matthias makes it quick, doesn’t think about walking around smelling like Casey, and grabs a towel from the middle shelf. He finds the toothbrush and fights to keep the avalanche of thoughts threatening to bowl him over at bay.

He doesn’t know what to do with the toothbrush when he’s done. It’s not like he’ll use it again. Seems weird to just throw it away, though. He leaves it on the sink and makes it Casey’s problem.

Casey is already waiting for him in the kitchen. He’s found himself a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. It makes Matthias feel really weird about his half-buttoned dress shirt and suit pants from last night. Casey hands him a mug with coffee that appears to be nearly half milk, exactly how Matthias likes it.

He takes it and sits down at Casey’s breakfast bar. “So.”

“One-time thing,” Casey says.

“Technically, it was a three-time thing, but—”

“You know what I mean,” Casey says. “It’s not happening again.”

“This… season?”

Casey gives him the deadliest of glares.

“Never. Got it,” Matthias says and takes a sip of his coffee.

“We’re about to play for the Cup,” Casey says. “I’m not getting distracted, you’re not getting distracted. We’re not getting into dumbass arguments about dumbass sex stuff. We”—he points at Matthias, then at himself—“are going back to normal.”

“Does that mean you won’t be a dick to me if I sleep with someone who isn’t you?”

“That wasn’t—never mind. No, it’ll be none of my business who you sleep with. I don’t care.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Great.” Casey leans against the kitchen island, staring into his coffee. “You want breakfast?”

“Nah, I’ll just… go home and…” Matthias shrugs. “It’s fine.”

“Mattie,” Casey says, finally looking at him.

“Look, I get it. If we keep doing this, there’ll be a billion ways to fuck everything up,” Matthias says. Because, sure, it’s sex now, but sex can get complicated. Especially if someone catches feelings. Matthias may have caught some feelings already and Casey hasn’t, so they wouldn’t be off to a good start. This is for the best.

“I don’t want you to think that I’m…” Casey shrugs. “I don’t know. It was fun. We had fun. I don’t want you to think I was using you.”

Oh, no. This is bad. This is Casey being kind. “Yeah, I get it, don’t worry,” Matthias says and quickly gulps down the rest of his coffee. “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll see you at practice?”

“Sure,” Matthias says and heads out.

He’s halfway down the street when he realizes that he forgot his suit jacket, didn’t even bother looking for it. He dropped it on the floor last night, but he didn’t come across it when he left, so maybe Casey hung it up. Doesn’t matter, he’ll get it back one way or another.

Once he’s turned into his street, he doesn’t go home. He can’t.

If Casey was any other guy, Matthias would call Heartsy. It kills him a bit that he can’t. Heartsy would listen and then he’d give him terrible advice and maybe it wouldn’t actually be helpful in a general sense, but it would still trick Matthias’s mind into thinking that he did something.

Luckily, Matthias does have an alternative.

“Why the fuck are you here?” Oliver asks when he opens the door for him. He looks like he just rolled out of bed. Minnie is behind him, tail wagging. “Why do you look like that?”

“I made a big mistake,” Matthias says.

“Oh, fuck’s sake,” Oliver says and steps aside to let him into the house. “I won’t pretend I didn’t see this coming when I saw you and Casey eye-fucking across the pool last night, but did you really have to—you know what? Never mind. I don’t actually want to know anything about this.”

“Um,” Matthias says.

“What the fuck is it with you and him and the two of you? There are bajillions of other people to have sex with. Why him?”

“He’s very—”

“You know what, I changed my mind, don’t answer that either. I don’t wanna hear anything about Casey’s humongous dick or whatever.”

Matthias laughs.

“Literally, the two of you will be the death of me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, we made a deal. It won’t happen again.”

“What, this week? What fucking planet do you live on? Of course it’ll happen again.”

“It won’t,” Matthias says. “Casey seemed pretty, uh… it won’t. I swear.”

Oliver groans and starts throwing green stuff into a blender. “You want a smoothie?”

“Not if it’s green.”

“It’s good for you,” Oliver says. “Unlike Casey.”

“Are you comparing Casey to a smoothie?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Oliver’s phone buzzes on the counter. He takes a look at it. Groans. Picks it up and starts typing.

“Was that Casey?” Matthias asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yeah, I’m telling him that I already know enough.”

“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“Oh my God, you both tried to sell me the same lie about being sooo tired last night. I already knew. Anyway. You have five minutes to complain and then you need to go, because I need to get dressed and get my car at Coop’s. The car I gave you a ride with, by the way.”

“I can give you a ride to practice,” Matthias says.

“So you can tell me more about the inappropriate sex you had with Casey?”

“Is it inappropriate if we were both really into it?”

“Ugh,” is Oliver’s reply.

“Honestly, Casey and I can’t be the first teammates to have sex. Right?”

“I…” Oliver turns back to his blender. “Probably not,” he says to the kale.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if we were, like, in a relationship or something? What if we broke up? This is all really civil. It’s like… business. We have a deal.”

“It’s a terrible deal.”

“It’s fine,” Matthias says.

“Sure it is.” Oliver hits a button on the blender and it roars to life. When it’s done and Oliver has poured the green stuff into a glass, he says, “You came here and said you made a big mistake.”

“I did. I should have never made a deal in the first place.”

“Because it’s a terrible deal.”

Matthias sighs. “He promised he wouldn’t be weird.”

“Sure.”

“It’s gonna be like before.”

“Sure.”

“Stop saying sure.”

“I don’t know what else to say,” Oliver says. “I’m kinda glad that playoffs are so exhausting that you guys won’t even want to make any more ridiculous sex deals.”

Matthias almost tells him that he’s never too tired to make a ridiculous sex deal, but he’s pretty sure that the joke won’t land as intended. So he only says, “I need a nap.”

“Sucks for you,” Oliver says. He grabs his blender and rinses it. “I’ll make you a red smoothie with berries and banana, yeah? And then you’ll give me a ride to practice, and after practice you’ll give me a ride to my car, okay?”

“Okay,” Matthias says.

Oliver’s phone buzzes again.

“What did he say?”

Eyebrows raised, Oliver stares down at his phone. “Nothing that is meant for your eyes or ears.”

Matthias sighs. This is bugging him already.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE PLAYOFFS ARE a total shitshow from the start.

They’ve got home ice advantage against the Hawks, but the Hawks come into Vegas like they own the place. The Vipers get one goal in before the Hawks completely take over. The only reason they only score four goals instead of a dozen is Casey.

Casey stays calm. Completely focused. During both intermissions, he sits in his stall, puts on headphones, and ignores the rest of them. Coach tries to get them riled up before they head back out for the third period, but it does nothing. They try, but it ends up being one of those games. The puck just won’t go in.

“It’s one game,” Casey says to the reporters afterwards. “We’ll get a few more chances to win.”

He’s right. One loss won’t ruin this playoff series, but it’s the first game and they had home ice and hockey players are a suspicious bunch. They need to shake it off. And by they, Matthias means his teammates. There’s only so much he can do from the sidelines. He tries to encourage the guys and gives them little pats when they get on the bench, opens the door for them, but in the end, he’s sitting on his ass.

That’s the thing with being the backup. You sit. And you hope you’ll be needed, but you also hope you won’t be needed, because if you are needed, it often means there’s something wrong with the starting goalie. And during playoffs, losing your starter is… not ideal.

Not that it’s ever ideal.

Anyway. Matthias resigns himself to being useless. He’ll get another chance next season. Hopefully. Technically, his contract will be up and fuck knows if Vegas will offer him an extension.

Maybe it would be better to give the market a try. Might give him a chance to be a starter somewhere else. He’s exactly where he was with the Bobcats, with Yuri as their number one. Matthias won’t be a starter in Vegas either, not as long as they have Casey. He already knew that before he came here. And Casey isn’t going anywhere, at least not anytime soon. Matthias would bet actual money that Casey will retire a Viper. And maybe he won’t be the starter anymore in the end, but he’s only twenty-nine. Well, almost thirty, but he’s a beast right now and he’ll stay a beast for a few more years. Knowing Casey, he may even stay a beast forever. So Matthias is going to have to think long and hard about what he wants.

Game 2 actually goes pretty well at first. They score three quickly and mercilessly, then the Hawks score two, and then all it takes is one more to tie it up. Casey’s fighting tooth and nail out there in the last five minutes to keep the puck out. Then the Hawks draw a penalty—a bullshit penalty if you ask Matthias—and they score on the power play. So they go into overtime.

They have a regular intermission while the ice gets cleaned. Matthias can tell that Casey’s mad from all the way across the room. If this was Tampa, if it was Yuri, Matthias would go to him and say something encouraging. And he and Yuri would both know that it won’t help but that’s what they did. If he tries it with Casey, it’ll just make things worse.

He’s nice to Jannik and Oliver instead. Oliver smiles when Matthias says, “Look, it’s gonna be okay. And even if it isn’t, we’ve still got a chance.”

“Yeah. You’re right,” Oliver says and reaches across Jannik to give Matthias’s leg a pat. “We do.”

The part of Matthias’s brain that hates him whispers something about how we isn’t actually the appropriate word. His brain sucks.

They lose. Eighteen minutes into overtime the Hawks score and that’s the second loss.

“We’re not done yet,” Casey tells the media after the game.

True. They aren’t. That’s what Matthias was saying to Oliver, right? Even if they lose, they’ve still got a chance. Lots of series end 4–2. All they need to do is win four times in a row. Which they’ve done before. They’ve had win streaks longer than that during the regular season.

During the playoffs, it gets in your head, though. Because it’s seven games in a series, not eighty-two. If they lose a third one, they’re done. Probably. Statistically. Teams have come back from three losses during the playoffs, but it’s the exception, not the rule.

That’s probably why Mikko calls a players-only meeting before they get on the plane to Denver. Game 3 has to be a win. Mikko doesn’t say it, but the fact that they’re all squeezed into his living room right now hammers it home anyway. Matthias ended up sitting next to Casey, who is stoically glaring at the floor. Oliver is in front of them, on the floor with their two rookies.

“Look, guys, I don’t wanna say we need to do better,” Mikko says. “I know you’ve all been working your butts off.”

Coop’s lips twitch, probably because Mikko won’t say ‘ass.’ Mikko doesn’t say ‘fuck’ either.

“But we’ve lost twice,” Mikko goes on. “That means we weren’t good enough.”

Casey twitches. He’s taking it personally.

He should know better than that.

“You’ve all seen the tape, you’ve talked to the coaches, you know where you need to do better. We were so close to making it to the finals last year and we promised we’d make it this year.”

A bunch of the guys nod. They were here last year. Matthias wasn’t.

“Honestly, we’ve overcome worse,” Coop says. “Remember when Casey was out for like three months?”

“Don’t remind me,” Casey mutters.

Matthias vaguely remembers Casey being injured—maybe two seasons ago? Someone totally bowled him over, didn’t even try to stop.

“And remember when we missed the playoffs by one point?”

“I don’t think most of these guys were on the team back then,” Oliver says.

“Point is, we’ve been through some shit,” Coop says. “And we’ll get through this shit, too. We gotta make it easy for Wallie. Keep the puck out of our zone. Score.”

They all know that. Coop is just saying that because what he really wants to say contains too many ‘fucks’ for Mikko to handle.

Oliver’s pep talk mostly consists of listing all the Hawks’ weaknesses, a “We’ll fucking crush them” that has Mikko sighing like a disappointed parent, and an offer to hug everyone on the team. “Twice if you want.”

When Matthias gets into Oliver’s car so they can head to the airport together with Casey in the backseat, Oliver tips his head back against the headrest and lets out the longest groan.

“You okay?” Casey asks.

“No,” Oliver says.

“Yeah, okay, valid,” Casey says. “You want me to drive?”

“No, I can drive, just give me a minute to sit here and hate everything and then we’re good to go.”

Casey grunts and leans back. His seatbelt clicks a moment later.

Matthias shoots Oliver a sidelong glance. They spend so much time together and Oliver has been so optimistic this entire time and maybe Matthias should have asked him if he was okay. He just assumed everything was fine, but it obviously isn’t. “Ollie,” he says. “You—”

“You have to know,” Oliver says, “that last season was fucking terrible. We made it to Conference Finals and we really thought that was gonna be it. We were ready. And, you know, when you make it that far and lose, you say, okay, we’ll try again next year. We’ll be better next year. And now it is next year and we’re very much not better.”

“I am,” Casey says.

“Well, you were playing injured, so yeah. Maybe.”

Matthias turns around to raise his eyebrows at Casey.

“Don’t look at me like that. It was only one game and it wasn’t that bad.”

“You didn’t play with a concussion, did you?”

“No, it wasn’t a concussion. Relax,” Casey says. “Ollie, can we go? Matthias is judging me and it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Good,” Matthias says and turns back around.

“The two of you are killing me,” Oliver says and turns the key in the ignition. “I guess I’m done hating everything.”

“Hey, if you wanna have another hate everything session, we can hang out tonight and… hate.”

“Sounds wonderful. I’ll buy us drinks.”

“Without alcohol, because someone’s gonna see and accuse us of not keeping our heads in the game if we go out drinking,” Casey says, sounding bored. “We’ll drink tap water and eat a kale salad and we won’t have any dessert.”

“Kale salad is good,” Oliver says as he pulls away from the curb.

“Ew,” Matthias says. “I want chicken tenders. And fries. And mozzarella sticks. Oh and chips with spinach artichoke dip. Remember when we had that? Where did we have that?”

“New York,” Casey says.

“Right.”

“I didn’t have spinach artichoke dip. You guys had dinner without me?” Oliver asks.

“You were hanging out with someone from the Mariners.”

“Ohhh, I remember. I was and you guys were fighting.”

“Yeah, because Matthias—”

“Casey said he didn’t want any more dip,” Matthias says.

“I said you could have some more, not all of it.”

“You know what,” Oliver says, “I’m gonna take a nap on the plane, because I need a break from”—he waves his hand at them—“all this. You guys can sit together.”

“Uh,” Casey says.

“Matthias will hold your hand.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Matthias says.

“Why? Because you can’t keep it in your pants?” Oliver says. “Well, tough shit.”

Matthias sort of hopes that Oliver was kidding, up until the point when Oliver walks right past Casey’s row and gets his own. Since Matthias knows that Casey is terrified of flying, he can’t keep walking and sit somewhere else. He can’t leave Casey hanging like that.

So he takes the seat next to him.

And he holds Casey’s hand during takeoff. And he watches Schitt’s Creek on his iPad and turns on the subtitles so Casey can watch, too. He’s not going to sleep and risk waking up with his head on Casey’s shoulder. So not happening. He’s an adult. A grown-ass adult. A professional hockey player. He can deal with this.

And he can totally keep it in his pants, no matter what Oliver says.

He also holds Casey’s hand when they land. The plane bounces a little and Casey squeezes his fingers like he thinks they’re about to die, so Matthias doesn’t let go right away.

Casey doesn’t let go either, not until they make it to their gate. He clears his throat. “Thanks,” he says. “I know it’s ridiculous.”

“I’m scared of snakes,” Matthias says. “Fucking terrified.”

Casey snorts. “You do know which team you play for, yeah?”

“Honestly, I’m just glad we only have the fangs on the jersey.” Matthias sighs. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Casey says, the smile on his face small but pleased.

Matthias’s stomach does some gymnastics that are totally uncalled for, so he pretends he’s busy with his carry-on bag until they’re finally allowed to get off the plane. Matthias is technically allowed to get distracted by how warm Casey’s hand was in his, because he’s not starting the game tomorrow, but he still feels a little guilty about it.

“Oh, good, you’re still alive,” Oliver says, grinning at them as he pulls down his backpack.

Casey nods. “Did you have a good nap?”

“I did. I think I’m gonna make Brandy sit next to you for every flight from now on,” Oliver says and reaches out to pat Casey’s stubbly cheek.

He looks good with the stubble.

Which is also not a thought Matthias should be having.

He needs to put himself in time-out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

GAME 3 GOES exceptionally well for two and a half periods. Nobody scores. Which means Casey has kept the door shut. Obviously, it would have been great if the Vipers had managed to score a few goals in the meantime, but Matthias will take it.

The problem is that the guys are being too careful. They don’t want to make a mistake, but while they’re busy with that, they’re forgetting to score.

Still, they’re not behind. For two and a half periods they’re not behind.

Then the Hawks score and it feels a bit like the end of the world. Which is pretty dramatic, yeah, but it puts the Hawks on the board and they only have ten minutes left on the clock to tie it up. If they go into overtime again, fuck knows what is going to happen. Very often, when you go into overtime, you just have to get lucky. Matthias doesn’t think they should leave this one up to luck.

And they don’t.

They don’t score and the Hawks win and they celebrate like they’ve already made it to the next round. Statistically, they will. Everyone knows it. The Hawks do, the Vipers do, the reporters do, the fans do. They all know.

The room is quiet. Coach is also quiet, which is never a good sign.

Casey is the quietest of all. He doesn’t talk on the bus, his fuck-off aura keeping everyone away. Matthias sits across the aisle from him and Casey glances at him briefly, the look on his face unreadable. At the hotel, Casey gets off the bus last and probably also gets on the elevator last, after Mikko or maybe with him.

They all shuffle to their rooms, thinking about Game 4, about having to do this all over again. About losing. About how likely it is. Some of them may end up looking up the stats on their phones. Has anyone ever come back from this? The internet will say yes, some teams have come back from this. And maybe they’ll believe that they can be one of those teams, but most likely they won’t believe it tonight. Tonight is for sulking.

Oliver gives Matthias a nudge in passing before he unlocks the door to his room. Matthias’s is all the way down the hall. So is Casey’s. Matthias almost walked into him on the way to breakfast this morning. He waits in the hallway for a minute, wondering if Casey will show up or if he’s waiting for everyone to disappear, so no one will look at him. That’s definitely something Matthias has done after a bad loss, although tonight’s loss wasn’t bad. It wasn’t an 8–1 blowout. A one-goal game usually speaks for the goalies. Both of them.

When no one else appears in the hallway, Matthias unlocks the door to his room and throws himself on his bed. He should go to sleep. They have practice tomorrow and it’s late and nothing good comes from replaying a game you just lost in your head for three hours, especially when you weren’t even in said game.

Matthias can’t stop thinking about Casey, though. Not in a weird way. Just his face in the locker room. On the bus. Casey doesn’t need him to show up outside his door right now. Doesn’t need anything or anyone. Casey’s been through this before, he can deal.

So there’s no reason for Matthias to get out of bed and grab a pair of sweatpants and his room key and knock on the door across the hall.

He does it anyway.

Casey opens the door a moment later, looking wide awake, like he hasn’t even gone to bed yet.

“Ollie left like five minutes ago. I don’t need another pep talk,” Casey says.

“Okay,” Matthias replies.

Casey steps back and lets him in.

His sheets are rumpled and there’s an open bag of vending machine Doritos on the nightstand.

“Pity sex isn’t on the table either,” Casey says and sits down on his bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“I didn’t come over here for sex,” Matthias says. Seriously, what the hell? He was just trying to be nice. Which, given their slightly complicated situation, may not be entirely obvious. Okay. Fine.

“No need to sound so offended, I’m just saying.”

Matthias gets into bed with Casey, but he stays at the other end. “You know,” he says, “we could win four in a row. We’ve won four in a row before.”

“We have,” Casey says and tilts his head. “How many playoffs have you played in?”

“Zero,” Matthias says. Maybe he should have known that Casey would find a way to be a dick about this.

Casey rolls his eyes. “Not what I meant. How many have you sat on the bench for, then?”

“Two. Three, if we’re counting this season.”

“Right. These are my eighth playoffs,” Casey says. “I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but this isn’t just a numbers thing anymore. Sure, we’ve won four in a row before. We’ll win four in a row again. Maybe even five in a row, or six, or seven. Whatever. Last season we had an eleven-game win streak. I started ten of those games. But the playoffs aren’t the regular season and we’ve lost three. That kind of thing gets in your head.”

“I know,” Matthias says. “So, we’re gonna lose Game 4 because we’re not believing in it enough?”

“I… yeah. Sort of.”

“You really think you can’t win?” Matthias asks. “You’re one of the best goalies in the league.”

Casey smiles. “It’s really cute that you still haven’t figured it out.”

Matthias glares at him. “Figured what out?”

“You’re going to start the next one.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Casey says. “And you deserve to get the start, because I—”

“You fought like hell.”

“Sure, I did. But having you in goal gives us the best chance. You’re going to shake it all up. Coach could shuffle the lines or he could bench someone, but he’s not going to do that, because our lines work, our power play works—”

“You work, too.”

“So will you, though,” Casey says. “And having you in goal will change things just enough that the guys will want to win a little bit more than they already do.”

“I don’t know why, but I don’t like how that sounds,” Matthias mutters. The guys would want to win for Casey, too. They’d want to win for the team. It’s not like putting Matthias in goal will suddenly make them win. He chews on his bottom lip. “You really think he’ll put me in goal? For a game that important?”

Casey doesn’t reply. Only gives him a deadpan look.

Yeah, okay, Casey has a point. Coach Hargrave has put Matthias in goal for every game against the Sailors this season because he won against them in the preseason. Matthias won all of them, but that could have been a coincidence. Coach also let him start whenever he’d pulled Casey in the game before. That’s the Hargrave thing. Admittedly, having Matthias start Game 4 would totally be a Hargrave thing as well.

Matthias tugs his fingers through his hair. “What if I don’t wanna?”

Casey snorts. “If I fell down the stairs and broke my leg, you’d have to start as well.”

Matthias rolls his eyes.

“I know it’s a lot of pressure,” Casey says, “but see it this way: everyone’s already expecting us to lose. So if we do, they’ll just say, ‘Yeah, that’s what we thought.’ And if we don’t, you’re gonna be an instant Vipers legend. This is your chance to show them all what you can do.”

“I didn’t start any of the games against the Hawks,” Matthias says.

“Could be an advantage for us. That just means they don’t know you well either.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“Do you want my advice?”

“I’m kinda surprised you’re not just giving me your advice, whether I want it or not,” Matthias says.

Casey’s lips twitch. “Just treat it like any other game. You never know if you’re going to walk away with a win, even if it’s an easy game. If you ask me, easy games don’t exist. Every game is just… a game.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“Seriously, sometimes the worst team in the league wins against the best team in the league.”

“And sometimes you win four games in a row?” Matthias asks, unable to keep the shit-eating grin off his face.

“Yeah. Sometimes you win four games in a row.”

“Well,” Matthias says, “we don’t even know for sure if Coach will want me to start.”

“Uh-huh,” Casey says.

“You don’t seem pissed about this.”

“Why do you think I’d be pissed about this? Was I ever pissed when Coach let you start?”

“No,” Matthias says. Casey was never pissed about that. “You’re just kind of pissed about everything, so…”

“I want us to win,” Casey says, “and I want the Cup. I don’t care if it’s you or me in goal when it happens.”

Matthias would love to be in goal when his team wins the Cup. This team or a future team.

“If you end up in goal for Game 4, I can give you my notes,” Casey says.

“You have notes?”

Casey shrugs. “I like stats, I wrote some stuff down. You don’t have to look at it.”

“No, I… thanks.”

Casey shrugs again.

“It’s kinda weird sitting here with you,” Matthias says. “When I was a baby goalie, you were my… Goalie Jesus.”

“Thanks for making me feel old,” Casey grumbles.

“You’re like four years older than me.”

“Practically geriatric.”

“I remember when you were drafted.”

“That makes one of us.”

Matthias raises his eyebrows at him.

“I kind of blacked out when they called my name, to be honest.”

Casey was drafted by the Seals because Vegas didn’t even exist yet. The Seals lost their goalie and signed Bellamy to this huge contract. Five years. Maybe even six. The Seals didn’t really need Casey anymore and during the expansion draft, they gave him to Vegas, so the Vipers wouldn’t take one of the guys the Seals had to leave unprotected. “Were you mad when the Seals gave you to Vegas?” Matthias asks.

“I wasn’t mad, no,” Casey says. “It was weird because I thought it wouldn’t happen to me. I guess I felt a little too safe. But I wasn’t mad and it worked out just fine.”

“For you maybe,” Matthias says. “I think they made a mistake when they gave you away.”

“They’re fine. Bellamy’s a good goalie.”

“Bellamy’s going to walk after the end of the season,” Matthias says. “He’s the kind of guy who wants a Cup no matter what and I don’t think he’s going to get one with the Seals.”

“The Seals are about to sweep the Bears. I don’t think anyone was expecting that,” Casey says.

“Okay, true,” Matthias says. Out of all the teams that made the playoffs this season, the Seals had the fewest points. Tons of injuries. And here they are, three wins later, likely about to eliminate the Bears, who were definitely a favorite going into the playoffs. “Anyway,” he goes on, “kinda weird to think you could be on the Seals right now.”

“Well, you could still be on the Bobcats if they hadn’t traded you. These things happen, they’re part of the business.”

“Sure, yeah,” Matthias says.

Casey looks at him for a moment. “Do you wish you were still in Florida?”

“No, why?”

“I don’t know, just wondering.”

“They didn’t make the playoffs.”

“Okay, but maybe you liked it better there.”

“I like it just fine here,” Matthias says. He misses playing with Heartsy, but Casey is right, that’s just part of being a hockey player. Either you get traded or you decide to leave. Chances are that Heartsy won’t stay in Tampa forever either.

Casey makes a thoughtful noise but doesn’t say anything.

“What?” Matthias asks.

“Your contract’s up at the end of the season.”

“It is.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do?”

“No,” Matthias says. Sighs. “Yes. Although there’s no point right now, I guess.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Casey says.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Casey says and smiles, but Matthias knows he kind of does.

Matthias grins back at him. “You wanna know how fast you’ll be rid of me, don’t you?”

Casey’s smile fades as fast as it appeared. “Or maybe I want to know how long I’ll have you around.”

Matthias doesn’t know what to say to that. Does Casey want him around? He’s not so sure. He’s not so sure what it’d mean for them if Casey wanted him to stay, because the feelings Matthias caught may convince him to stay for Casey and he shouldn’t. Which team you play for isn’t a choice you should let someone else make for you. Unless that someone else is for sure the love of your life.

He shifts, staring at the absolutely horrifying greige walls for a moment. “I should go to bed,” he eventually says.

“Yeah, get some rest,” Casey says. The you’ll need it is implied.

Matthias slides off the bed, looking at Casey, who’s slid down a bit, with his head tipped back against the headboard, a little rumpled, tired. Inviting. Matthias wouldn’t mind tucking himself against Casey’s side and going to sleep right there.

Instead he says goodnight, and goes back across the hall, and doesn’t fall asleep for another two hours.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CASEY’S STILL IN the starter’s net for practice the next morning, but Coach pulls them aside for a meeting later.

“You know why I want to talk, right?” Hargrave says. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week and it’s more unsettling to Matthias than he’d like to admit. This is bad and Coach may lose his job over it if he makes the wrong choice.

Matthias glances at Casey.

Casey nods.

So Matthias nods, too.

“Wallace, you know this isn’t about your performance. You’ve been stellar.”

“But not stellar enough,” Casey says with a little shrug.

Hargrave waves him off. “We all know that a team is more than a goalie. But I want to put in Brandl tomorrow. Shake things up.” He zeroes in on Matthias. “You up for it?”

“Uh, it’s not like I can say no?” Matthias ventures.

“He’s fine,” Casey says pointedly. “I’ll give him my notes.”

“You do that,” Hargrave says. “Brandl, just go in and play. If we lose, we lose. If we win, we win. It’s not just on you, remember that, yeah?”

Matthias tries to remember that. Tries to forget that Coach totally lied to him there. If we lose, we lose? Yeah, right. Coach wants a win, that’s why he’s juggling goalies.

Casey grabs them coffee at a nearby café in the afternoon and he and Oliver come to Matthias’s room to tell him everything they know about the Hawks. Mostly stuff Matthias already knows anyway, because he needs to be ready to go in whenever, but he doesn’t mind having the two of them around. It gives him less time to overthink everything. He’ll be doing that tonight anyway.

He’s never played in a playoff game, which also means he’s never lost a playoff game. He has a clean slate, no baggage, no nothing.

When he gets into his net for morning skate the next day, he can already see the tweets going up. Brandl in the starter’s net. They’re probably speculating right now if Casey’s not okay to play or if Hargrave is pulling a Hargrave.

Coach sends him off the ice first and he has to talk to the wolves after, crowding around him like they want to eat him alive for an early lunch.

They ask about Casey. Why he’s not playing.

“You know I’m not the one who gets paid to coach,” Matthias tells them, like he does every time they ask him about coaching decisions.

They want to know if Casey’s injured.

“Did someone say he is?” Matthias asks them.

Then they poke and prod him. Is he nervous? What is he doing to prepare?

“I’m doing what I always do,” Matthias says.

Except he doesn’t do what he always does, because usually he has lunch and in the afternoon he has a pregame nap. Only today he can’t sleep. He keeps thinking about the game and watches the clock run down in his mind, the score in the Hawks’ favor.

He grabs his phone, his finger hovering over the Twitter app for a second.

He shouldn’t. It’ll ruin everything.

He texts Casey, which is a bad choice, but not a terrible one, not as bad as checking Twitter. He’s really growing as a person. i’m kind of freaking out, he sends to Casey.

No reply, because obviously Casey is taking a nap, too.

He locks his phone and chooses to stare at the ceiling instead of Twitter.

A soft knock on his door has him jumping.

“Uh,” Matthias says. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” Casey says.

Matthias scrambles out of bed to open the door for him.

Casey comes in, pushes the door shut behind him and gives Matthias a stern look. “Did you look up your name on Twitter again?”

“No, I didn’t, I swear.”

“Good,” Casey says. “You don’t get to freak out right now. This is your job. What if I was, like, dead? What would you do then, huh?”

“I don’t think we’d play tonight if you’d died.”

“I didn’t mean literally dead.”

“Figuratively dead?”

“Jesus fuck, just get into your bed and close your eyes,” Casey snaps. “It’s not hard.”

“It actually is,” Matthias says. “That’s why I texted you. I can’t do this. What if we lose and I disappoint everyone?”

“So you’d prefer it if I was the one to disappoint everyone?”

“No, that’s not what I mean, I just…”

Casey sighs. “No, I get it. I don’t know what to tell you, honestly.”

“Just play?”

“Yeah. Just play,” Casey says. “You need a hug or something?”

Matthias is pretty sure that he’ll die if Casey hugs him right now, so he shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, totally fine.” Casey sits down on the bed, on the side that he always sleeps on and pats the empty spot next to him. “Come on.”

Matthias gets into bed with him, careful to leave some space between them. “Are you just going to sit there while I sleep?”

“I’m not staying,” Casey says and wiggles until he’s lying down as well. “Close your eyes.”

Matthias does, even though he won’t be able to sleep while Casey is next to him either.

Casey’s fingers curl around his wrist. “Just breathe.”

Yeah, right. Like Matthias’s heart isn’t going into overdrive with Casey’s warm skin against his. Casey can probably feel it with his thumb against Matthias’s wrist. He doesn’t let go, though.

“Breathe,” Casey says again.

Matthias is doing his best. Really.

“You want me to count?” Casey mumbles. “Ollie says it helps with anxiety.”

“I don’t have anxiety, just…”

“Extra terrible pregame jitters?”

“Yeah. That.”

“Well, whatever you wanna call it, you need to calm down, okay? So—”

“I’m breathing, got it,” Matthias says and keeps taking deep breaths and after a few minutes, it actually feels like it’s starting to work. His heart slows down despite Casey’s hand against his skin. He listens to Casey’s slow, gentle breaths and eventually he starts to drift off, fast asleep before he even realizes it.

He jerks awake when his alarm goes off. The other side of his bed is empty, like Casey was never even there.

Obviously, he wasn’t going to stay. He told him he wasn’t. They’re friends and if Casey had taken a nap with him, in his room, in his bed, that would have been too far. Maybe not if they were just friends, but since they have history, it may have been weird.

He gets out of bed, feeling vaguely like he’s going to throw up, and starts to get ready, putting on his suit and a tie his mom got him, checks his phone one last time before he turns it off and leaves it on the nightstand. It’s better if he doesn’t have it with him.

Casey sits next to him on the bus. He doesn’t say anything, just raises his eyebrows at Matthias in question.

“I’m okay,” Matthias whispers.

Casey nods.

At the arena, Matthias goes through his pregame routine the same way he always does, but when he’s about to tape his sticks, Mikko comes up to him and silently holds out a roll of tape.

“Uh,” Matthias says, looking down at his own tape.

“For luck,” Mikko says. “Take it.”

Right. Mikko’s lucky tape that no one is ever allowed to touch. Matthias takes it, even though he’s not sure if Mikko gave it to him because he was trying to be encouraging or if he thinks Matthias is so bad that he needs all the luck in the world. He forces himself not to dwell on it.

Once he’s done and the tape is back with Mikko and he’s run through his exercises, he sits in his stall and closes his eyes, listening to the all-too-familiar locker room noises around him. Coach comes in to announce the lineup, the guys cheering for him the loudest when Hargrave announces that Matthias is in goal, even though they already knew.

The Hawks’ arena is loud when they hit the ice for warm-ups, with more fans than usual crowded around the glass, because they’re hoping for a clean sweep and they want to be here for it. The Hawks tweeted earlier that fans wouldn’t be allowed to enter the arena with brooms. Plenty of people have brought cut-out brooms, though.

“Isn’t that a curse?” Oliver says. “I’m choosing to believe that’s a curse.”

Matthias wants to say that curses aren’t real, but he honestly wouldn’t mind if Oliver was right. He’ll take the curse if it means the Vipers will walk away with a win.

It doesn’t look like they will when the Hawks score on Matthias during the first minute of the game. Didn’t take him long to fuck up. He should have had that one. He watches the replay on the jumbotron, sighs, and looks at the bench. Coach’s face is still a normal color, so that’s something.

Matthias gets back in his crease and thinks about Casey telling him to breathe. It’s one goal. Last time, that one goal decided the game, but today Coop does him a solid and ties it up quickly. Oliver follows that one up with a goal of his own, so by the time they head to the room for the first intermission, they’re in the lead and the mood is cautiously optimistic.

During the second intermission, there’s nothing cautious about the optimism anymore. The score is 5–2 in their favor and all they have to do is keep it that way. Or score even more goals.

The Hawks pull their goalie for an extra skater in the third and Oliver gets the empty-netter, grinning like they’re two minutes away from winning the Cup when he skates past the bench for fist bumps.

Casey, on the bench, is smiling, but not at Matthias: at the scoreboard above their heads.

The boys do celebrate like they just won the series when the clock runs down. They only bought some time, but Matthias can’t stop laughing when they crowd around him, every single one of them wanting to hug him first.

Matthias did it. He didn’t do it alone, but he made some damn good saves tonight and for that he’s allowed to be a little bit proud of himself.

Casey is the last one in line and he wordlessly pulls Matthias into a tight hug.

Matthias really has to pay attention to what his face is doing. Cameras everywhere. The Hawks fans have already started to leave, with no one interested in sticking around for the three stars of the game. Matthias gets second, which would have been more fun at home, because then he could have gone back out there, but he’ll take it. And he’ll be proud of himself a little more.

In the room, he gets the feather boa for the first time since his win in Tampa.

“Oliver kind of deserves it more,” Matthias says when the guys yell at him to give a speech.

“Boo,” Oliver shouts. “Who is that Oliver person? He sucks.”

“Anyway, thanks guys. It was fun.”

At least towards the end. In the beginning, it was mostly terrifying, but now he feels like he could totally do it again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

HE DOES HAVE to do it again.

Coach wants him in goal for Game 5 as well. Matthias almost asks him why, because shouldn’t Casey be going back in? But as Matthias keeps telling the media, he doesn’t get paid to make coaching decisions, so he just nods and that’s that.

Casey doesn’t seem to mind at all and happily sits back while Matthias has to pull half-acceptable answers for the media out of his ass. He just wants to win another game. That’s what they all want.

“We’ll take it one at a time,” he says. “We have to focus on what’s right in front of us.”

“Are you happy that you’re getting another chance in goal?” one of them asks.

Matthias blinks at him. “Well, it would be a weird thing to be sad about,” he says, which may have been a little too snarky, but he wants to get out of here and that was a ridiculous question.

He hears Oliver cough violently, probably trying to hide his laughter.

“That was amazing,” Oliver says when they leave the rink together. “And they can’t even trash you for it, because you did just save our whole entire asses.”

“I just got us another chance,” Matthias mumbles.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. You’re amazing. I love you.”

Matthias ducks his head.

Oliver takes that as an invitation to ruffle his hair, even though Matthias’s hair is way too long to be in any way ruffleable.

Game 5 is tough, but at least Matthias slept like a baby the night before. When he snuggled into bed for his pregame nap, he was out within seconds. When he put on his gear for the game, it felt like he was about to start his twentieth playoff game and not his second.

He doesn’t think about Game 6. All they need for now is one more win. One game at a time, right? That’s what he’s been saying. Maybe he should listen to himself more often. The thing is… what if. Very big what if, but still, what if Coach actually lets him keep going if he keeps winning? He’d die but in the best way. He’s had plenty of chances to prove himself during the regular season, but this is the cherry on top. This is where he can show that he’s starter material. He could end this season on a real high note.

Game 5, though. That’s where his head should be for now.

The Hawks want their win, and they start attacking as soon as they come on the ice, but Matthias holds his ground. They don’t play dirty, not the way some other teams do. Cough—the Lions—cough. The Hawks used to be one of the teams that took the least penalties, but they don’t give much of a shit today.

The Vipers don’t either.

It’s one penalty after the other, with the score going up on either side until they’re tied at 3–3 at the beginning of the third.

“We’re not going into overtime,” Matthias says to Oliver. “Someone has to score.”

“You heard the man,” Oliver shouts. “No overtime.”

It’s closer than Matthias would like, but it’s Oliver who eventually nets the puck top-shelf. It’s two minutes before the end of the game and the Hawks don’t manage to tie it.

Again, they bought some time. Again, they’re getting another chance.

Oliver flies into his arm when the horn signals the end of the game, the crowd around them louder than Matthias has ever heard it. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, you are a wizard,” Oliver says and kisses Matthias’s mask.

“You scored the game winner.”

“You made so many saves.”

“You—”

“Brandy! You beauty!” Coops shouts and pushes Oliver out of the way to grab Matthias. “I fucking love you.”

A lot of the guys tell him they love him that night.

Mikko tuts at them all in the room and tells them to go home. No public celebrations, the Hawks are still one win away from eliminating them and they’re headed back to Denver tomorrow.

But winning the series seems possible now. Nobody says it out loud—nobody risks it because they’ll never stop being a superstitious bunch—but Matthias can feel it in the room.

He goes straight home after the game. He doesn’t turn on the TV, just texts his mom to say good morning because she’s headed to work right about now, then he crawls into bed and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. Some really wild shit shows up in his dreams and it’s all disjointed. When his alarm rings, he needs a minute to figure out where he is.

Not a hotel room. Home.

About to leave again, though. But, hey, at least he’s not packing his bags to head to Germany because their season is over.

Today, Oliver sits next to Casey on the plane and Matthias is so not disappointed, because it’s better if he doesn’t get too close to Casey. Being close to Casey makes Matthias want to put his mouth on Casey’s mouth and they’re not doing that. So. Yeah.

Matthias decides to sleep through the flight instead and takes the whole empty row behind Casey and Oliver, only waking up when they’re about to land.

Casey peers through the gap in the seats when Matthias puts up his tray table. “You have drool on your chin.”

“Ugh,” Matthias says and wipes at his face with his sleeve. He sees Casey’s lips twitch before he turns back around.

They don’t have practice today, which is good, because Matthias is exhausted, even though he just slept for one and a half hours. A bunch of the guys go out for dinner together, but Matthias bows out and grabs some food to go. He eats in his hotel room, watching some cooking competition.

His phone buzzes with a text from Casey when he’s about to go to bed.

Casey

all good?

Matthias

ya, why?

Casey

just wondering bc you didn’t come to dinner. good to go tomorrow?

Matthias almost says that they don’t know if he’ll be in goal tomorrow, but Casey has been spot-on with these predictions so far.

And obviously he’s right again.

Matthias ends up in the starter’s net during morning skate, ends up between the pipes that night.

He barely sees the puck on his side of the ice during the first period. The guys keep pelting the Hawks’ goalie with shots until one finally goes in, and then the next one, and the next. By the time the Hawks get on the board, the Vipers have already scored five. That one goal barely registers, because Oliver has an answer at the ready and nets his third of the game.

Barely any hats come down because they’re not at home, but the fans that have made the trip are loud. On the bench, Casey throws his baseball cap at Oliver once he’s sitting down.

Just like that, their series is tied.

They fly home right after the game, but nobody’s going to sleep.

Matthias has never experienced a win like this. The guys keep hugging him. Coop loudly announced that he was going to kiss him when he came waddling into the room. Matthias fled before Coop actually followed through on that. They took pictures with Oliver’s hat trick pucks and for once Matthias didn’t have to talk to the media, so it’s all around a damn good day.

“You know, I’m happy and all,” Oliver says as they grab their stuff to get off the plane, “but I’m afraid that Mikko will think the team meeting worked.”

“It did work,” Matthias says.

“Really, you think we won three games because of a team meeting?”

Matthias shrugs. “It could be part of the reason.”

“Yeah, okay,” Oliver says, “or it could be witchcraft.”

Casey laughs. “Yeah, obviously it’s witchcraft.”

“Yeah, whatever, Mr. I-don’t-believe-in-jinxes,” Oliver says. “But I scored a hatty. Do you remember the last time that happened?”

“Uh…”

“You don’t. Neither do I, to be honest, but it was ages ago. Why would it happen now?” Oliver says, eyes wide. “Witchcraft.”

“Or maybe you’re good at hockey,” Matthias suggests.

Behind them, Coop clears his throat. “Are you guys gonna move, or…?”

“Sorry,” Matthias says, grabbing his backpack and squeezing past Oliver to get off the plane.

“You gotta believe in the magic, Brandy,” Oliver shouts after him.

Matthias flips him off over his shoulder.

Coach pulls them aside again before Game 7. He says he’s letting Matthias start one more time and asks them what they think.

Matthias doesn’t know what to say. No one’s ever asked him what he thought. Not in the minors, not in Tampa. Although it’s not like he’s ever been in a situation like this. Starting three playoff games. Even though their actual starter is perfectly healthy.

Casey says Matthias deserves the start.

Matthias has no trouble believing that he means it.

If they win tonight, Casey’s getting the start in the next round. Coach doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to that. It’s a tough choice, he says, but Casey is their starter and he also deserves a chance to go back in.

When they head home, Casey gives him a pat on the back before he makes for the fans that are waiting by the gate, all of them hollering when they realize he’s actually coming over.

Matthias doesn’t go with him. He needs a nap. A long one. He’ll be getting antsy again in the morning.

“There’s no reason for you to be nervous,” Casey says when Matthias is all wiggly on the ice before morning skate. They’re out there with their goalie coach, who turns away to hide his smile.

“It’s Game 7, wouldn’t you be nervous?”

“No,” Casey says, because he’s an ass.

He seems to realize that he was being an ass, but with some delay, because he doesn’t come up to Matthias until he’s taking off his game day suit at the arena. He flops into Jannik’s empty stall with a sigh.

“Okay,” Casey says, “say it with me: ‘I’m a good goalie.’”

“What.”

“You’re a good goalie.”

“Sure,” Matthias says and pulls on a Vipers shirt. He has no idea why he has to wear a suit to walk into the arena. He looks nice in a suit, but that has nothing to do with the game of hockey. He won’t play better just because he wore a suit and nobody will respect him more because of his shiny shoes. It’s completely unnecessary.

Casey sighs. “You weren’t nervous for the last game.”

“Yeah. I guess I wasn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Casey gets up, reaching out to touch Matthias, then changing his mind halfway, his hand hovering between them for a moment until he brushes his knuckles against Matthias’s arm. “You’ll get another chance to show them all how good you are,” he says softly. “This isn’t the last one.”

Oh. Yeah. Okay. That makes sense. He’s nervous because if he loses, that’s what everyone will think of when free agency rolls around. That Matthias fucked it up. And if he wins, they’ll keep going with Casey in net and everyone will forget that Matthias was in goal for half a series in the first place. Any maybe Casey is right, maybe this isn’t his last chance ever, but it’s most likely his last chance this season.

“If they’re smart,” Casey says, “they already know how good you are anyway.”

Matthias only nods. He’s all out of words.

His skin is tingling where Casey touched him. If this wasn’t real life, if it was something he’d come up with in his head, if they were characters in a movie, he’d pull Casey away to a quiet place and he’d kiss him until his mouth hurt. But he’s about to play one of the most important games of his career so far. Maybe even the most important one.

He really gets it now. What Casey said about getting distracted. Why he didn’t want it to go any further than it already has.

Casey flicks the back of his head. “Head in the game,” he says and wanders away.

Matthias gives himself a second to hope that Casey doesn’t know what just killed his focus. He probably does, though. Fucking Casey.

Sometimes Matthias wonders what would have happened if they hadn’t hooked up last summer. How the season would have gone. If they still would have ended up being drawn to each other, if they may have ended up making out on the stairs at a party at Coop’s anyway or if Matthias would know peace.

Actually, there’s probably no knowing peace around Casey ever, because he’d still be Casey.

“I can see you staring at Casey’s ass and I’m not judging, whatever helps, but—”

“Ugh,” Matthias says and throws his balled-up tie at Oliver. He didn’t even notice that he came in. “I was not staring at his ass.”

“I’m just teasing, sweetie,” Oliver says and gently drapes the tie over Matthias’s knee. “Do you need anything? Some water? A snack? A pep talk?”

Matthias glowers.

“Silence?” Oliver ventures. “I got you.”

Time starts to pass faster after that. Matthias has no idea how that always happens before games, but it’s like he blinks and suddenly he’s on the ice and they’re dropping the puck.

No one really has the upper hand during the first period. Things get heated in the second after an awkward hit that has Coop going straight down the tunnel. During the intermission, Oliver swears he’s going to fight the Hawks’ entire team, but then Coop is back for the third and Oliver thankfully doesn’t throw hands.

They’re tied 2–2 when the clock runs down.

“Did we really have to?” Matthias says in the room.

“I’m so sorry,” Oliver says. “I really tried.”

“I know.”

“I’ll try harder next time.”

Matthias gives him a tap with his blocker.

The last time they went into overtime in this series, they lost. With Casey in goal. Casey, who is an absolute overtime beast. Matthias is not an overtime beast. He can count the times he played in a game that went into OT on one hand.

You can’t make any mistakes in overtime. One goal and it’s over.

He’ll just go out there and hope that Oliver scores immediately.

Which he doesn’t. He gets damn close about ten minutes in, but it rings off the crossbar and a groan goes through the arena.

The Hawks get close to scoring on him, too. Matthias will never be able to explain how he gets his glove on it, but he has it. The crowd has never cheered for him like this. They don’t settle down either. They keep chanting his name and he keeps making save after save. Good saves. Important saves.

“How,” Casey only says when Matthias waddles past him for the next intermission. Because obviously they need a second overtime.

“I’ve seen you make a save like that,” Matthias says. He’s going to have to watch the replay later. When it was up on the jumbotron, he was too shocked to pay attention. He did make that save and it wasn’t luck, it was instinct, at least in part. It was also working with Casey all season. It made him better, even though he spent a lot of time on the bench.

“Sure, I guess,” Casey says, “only I didn’t make it during overtime in a Game 7.”

Matthias forces himself not to grin. They haven’t won yet, so he can’t get too cocky, but there’s a chance he’ll never make a save as important as this one ever again. And maybe he should have this particular identity crisis some other time. Not when the game isn’t decided yet.

“Do you need anything?” Oliver asks. “Water? Pizza? A foot massage?”

“He’s never offered me pizza in double-overtime,” Casey grumbles and wanders away.

“I have offered him a foot massage, though. Not that he ever took me up on it.”

“How are you cracking jokes right now?” Matthias says.

What if they go out there and the Hawks score on him ten seconds later and they’re done?

That’s not what happens, though. Matthias is a brick wall. He’s never wanted a win this much. Wanting it isn’t always enough, wanting it doesn’t magically turn the game in your favor, but Matthias finally believes it. That he can do this. That he can take a team through a playoff round—all by himself if he has to.

Matthias doesn’t see the puck go into the net all the way across the ice. All he hears is the roar of the crowd. Then the goal light turns on and the horn goes off.

And the guys jump off the bench.

And that’s it.

Matthias joins the fray, is pulled into hug after hug.

“I love you so fucking much,” Oliver shouts into his ear.

Matthias looks around for Casey, finds him on the other side of the huddle, his Vipers hat knocked off, hair sticking up. His grin grows brighter when he catches Matthias looking and when they line up for handshakes with the Hawks, Casey gives him a quick hug, then a little push to follow Oliver.

It’s different, being in that line when you actually played in the game. When you’re the one who kept the door shut for one and a half periods of overtime.

It’s mostly your regular Good series and Hope you go all the ways until Matthias gets to the Hawks’ goalie, who shakes his head and gives Matthias’s chest a pat and says, “Dude. That was out of this world.”

“Thank you,” Matthias says. What else is he supposed to say?

He gets first star of the game and he asks their equipment guy to grab him a bunch of pucks, because this might be the last time he gets to go out there. This could have been his last start, not just this season, but as a Viper.

As he throws the pucks to the fans, he tries not to let the thought become too heavy.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

MATTHIAS WOULD LOVE to, like, grow as a person a little more and not resent the fact that Casey gets to start in the second round. He doesn’t grow as a person a little more, though, so he resents the fact that Casey gets to start in the second round and all the rounds after that one.

He makes an effort to keep the resentment confined to the day before the game. He doesn’t want to curse Casey with his despicable thoughts and he does want the Vipers to win.

“I’m not gonna feel sorry for you,” Casey says before practice.

It’s just the two of them on the ice. Closed practice. No fans. “I didn’t ask you to,” Matthias says.

“I know you wanted to keep playing.”

“Oh, you do know that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Casey says. “I do.”

“Well, it’s not exactly hard to figure out,” Matthias says. Shakes his head. “It’s… whatever.”

“It’s not whatever,” Casey says. “You were good. You could keep going. You could take us through this round.”

“But I won’t. So it’s whatever.”

“I’m still not gonna feel sorry for you.”

“And I’m still not asking you to.”

Casey holds his gaze for a moment. There’s something soft in the way he looks at Matthias that isn’t usually there. Maybe he is feeling a little sorry for Matthias. And Matthias resents that, too.

Their goalie coach gets on the ice.

Back to work they go.

“You wanna come over for dinner?” Casey asks.

“Uh.”

“Ollie’s bringing Minnie.”

Ah. Dinner with Oliver. And Minnie, who will look at them with her big, big eyes and wait for food to drop. That makes sense. For a second, Matthias thought Casey was inviting him over for dinner. Just him. That would have been weird, because they’re ignoring, well, everything that’s ever happened between them and having dinner together would not exactly play into that strategy.

Which is a great strategy, by the way.

Matthias still thinks about Casey’s naked ass, but now he at least knows that he won’t be seeing Casey’s naked ass ever again, at least not in a sexy way, and he’s sort of started to come to terms with it.

The summer will be good for him. He’ll get rid of all remaining feelings. Fuck knows if Matthias is even coming back to Vegas. That will be even better for him. Although he likes it here and likes the team. He’s made friends here.

“Are you having an existential crisis about dinner right now? I told Ollie to bring his own salad. I’m not touching any leafy greens tonight.”

“Oh, right. I’ll be there. Sure.”

“Okay,” Casey says, his eyes lingering on Matthias for a moment before he stops stretching and makes for the goal.

“Ollie’s not coming,” is how Casey greets him when he opens the door for Matthias. “And I was too lazy to cook, so I ordered food.”

“Oh,” Matthias says. Should he go back home? He should totally go back home.

He doesn’t go back home.

“What did you order?” Matthias asks as he takes off his shoes.

“Burgers and garlic fries, since Oliver isn’t coming and I’ve decided to eat whatever the fuck I want,” Casey says and nudges him into the living room. “You want anything to drink?”

“Just water is fine,” Matthias says and sits down on the far end of the couch. “Why isn’t Ollie coming?”

“Said he wants to go to bed at nine,” Casey says. “Guess he’s tired.”

Matthias hums, thoughtful.

Casey comes back with two glasses of water and sits down on the other end of the couch.

“Bolt didn’t wanna come?” Matthias asks, because Bolt is usually invited to these things.

“He’s going to the movies with his friend.”

“What friend?”

“The one he’s tried to set up with everyone he knows, because he’s dense as fuck and doesn’t understand that she actually wants to date him. That friend.”

“Oh. Maritza?”

“Yeah, that’s her name.”

“She wants to date him?”

Casey cackles. “Okay, you haven’t been around for that long, but yeah. It’s pretty obvious. Also, she told me. While I was out on a date with her.”

“No way.” Matthias coughs to hide his laugh. “Must have been a terrible date if she told you that she’d rather date someone else.”

“Matthias. I’m gay. Of fucking course it was a terrible date,” Casey says, rolling his eyes.

“So, Bolt didn’t know yet?”

“It was during Bolt’s first season with us and I’d barely managed to tell Ollie, so, no, he didn’t know yet. And I was too much of a coward to just say no to the date. I don’t really care anymore, but I cared when I was twenty-five.”

“Because you had more to lose?”

“At least it felt like I had more to lose,” Casey says. “Now I’m like, so what if someone catches me with a guy? What are they gonna do? Fire me?”

Matthias laughs. Just the thought of the Vipers not re-signing Casey. Who’s won the Vezina. Who’s probably going to win the Vezina again this year. Yeah. What are they going to do?

“I’m still not making a public statement or anything,” Casey goes on, “because it would absolutely be a shitshow. But I’m turning thirty in June and I don’t know how much longer I’ll even be able to play, because you never know, right?”

“I’ve been wondering,” Matthias says. “Because, you know, you just kissed me last summer.”

“I didn’t just kiss you,” Casey says. “I carefully analyzed the situation and figured you might be interested in being kissed. And then I listened to you flirt with me awkwardly for five minutes and then I kissed you. And it was pretty dark back there, I don’t think anyone would have recognized us.” He shrugs. “I took a calculated risk.”

“Huh,” Matthias says.

He’s glad the doorbell rings a moment later, so he can’t get too caught up in the whole awkward flirting thing Casey mentioned. He’s sure it was horrifying.

Casey gets the burgers, they turn on an East Coast game, and they don’t talk much. Casey pulls the tomato out of his burger. Matthias takes it because he won’t say no to double tomatoes.

“Ew,” Casey says.

On TV, a Grizzly runs over the Eagles’ goalie. Doesn’t even try to stop. The Eagles’ captain instantly goes from zero to murder.

“Uhhh,” Matthias and Casey say at the same time.

The Eagles’ goalie hasn’t gotten up yet and is talking to one of his teammates, who has bent down and put his hand on his back.

“That’s not good,” Casey mumbles.

He would know. “That’s what happened to you, right?”

“Yeah. I was out for three months.”

“I’m sorry,” Matthias says.

“Took ages for the concussion symptoms to go away. It was only my second one, but it was bad.”

“Are you sure it was only your second one? Or just the second one that was officially a concussion?”

Casey gives him a look that says you already know the answer to that question and doesn’t reply.

“I’m glad you’re okay now,” Matthias says.

“I mean… yeah. Same. For a couple of weeks, I really thought that was it, I wasn’t coming back.”

“But you did.”

“I did.”

Matthias doesn’t resent the fact that Casey gets to start tomorrow so much anymore.

On TV, the Eagles’ goalie is helped off the ice. Their backup goes in.

“I’d die,” Matthias says.

“You literally just won four playoff games.”

“Yeah, but I knew I’d be going in from the start. This is different,” Matthias says. Especially because the Eagles’ backup is a rookie. These are his first playoffs, period.

“Well, I guess it’s not the same, but—oh no.” The Eagles’ backup just got scored on. “Poor kid,” Casey mumbles.

The poor kid gets scored on again only a few minutes later.

“That one wasn’t his fault,” Matthias says. He hopes someone will tell him that it wasn’t his fault later.

“It wasn’t,” Casey says, “but he’ll blame himself and some of the fans will probably blame him, too. You know how it is.”

Matthias sighs.

The clocks runs down and the players leave for the second intermission. Casey wordlessly gets up to get more water and a bag of Skittles and—

“Dark chocolate M&Ms?” Matthias asks when Casey drops the bag in his lap.

“You like those, right? You always eat them.”

“We don’t have them back home.”

“They’re bad for you,” Casey says and opens up his Skittles.

“And those aren’t?”

“No. They have fruit in them.”

Matthias narrows his eyes at him. “Ollie would shove kale up your nose for saying that.”

“I guess it’s a good thing that Ollie isn’t here, then,” Casey says and picks one of each color from the bag.

Matthias was about to do the same with his M&Ms, even though they all taste the same. He does it while Casey isn’t looking.

During the intermission, the analysts worry about the Eagles’ veteran goalie, although it turns into a thinly-veiled maybe it’s time for him to retire talk, which Casey grumbles at.

“He may come back in a week or two,” Casey says.

“The Eagles may be done in a week or two,” Matthias mutters.

“You think the kid can’t swing it?”

“I don’t know. I sort of hope he will.”

Casey smiles.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Casey says.

The kid gets scored on again. The Eagles’ captain skates over to him and talks to him for a moment before he has to leave for the face-off.

“This is actually painful to watch,” Matthias says and eats a handful of M&Ms. He looks at them. Then at Casey. “You bought these for me?”

“It took you half a period of hockey to figure out that those didn’t just mysteriously materialize in my kitchen?” Casey says, deadpan. “Yes, I bought them, because you said you were coming over. I also have a singular leaf of kale in the fridge for Ollie, but he abandoned us, so…”

Matthias laughs. “He’s really missing out.” He pats his candy bag. “Anyway, thanks for these.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Casey says, eyes on the TV, even though they’re showing commercials.

“Casey,” Matthias says.

“Please don’t say anything, like, sincere right now.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Thanks.”

“I was just gonna ask if you want me to give you money for the burger or—”

“Like I can’t afford to buy you a burger.”

“I didn’t want to assume you were gonna pay for it.”

“What, I invite you over for dinner and then I make you pay for it? Really?”

“Okay, if you put it that way…”

Casey bites his lip. “Whatever, now tell me what you were actually going to say.”

“I’m just… glad we’re friends, s’all,” Matthias says, staring at the commercials as well now. At the beginning of the season, he honestly didn’t think they’d ever sit on the same couch and watch a hockey game together, just the two of them. Or that Casey would buy him candy. That he’d invite him over in the first place.

“Yeah,” Casey says.

Just. Yeah.

Matthias smiles.

“It’s gonna be weird without you,” Casey says.

Matthias can’t help but look at him now. “I haven’t decided on anything yet.”

“Right. You will decide once some team without a starter offers you three or four million bucks to play for them.”

“You don’t know that’s going to happen,” Matthias says, although that would definitely be a dream come true.

“Seals are gonna need someone.”

“Not if Bellamy re-signs.”

“Didn’t you say that you thought he was going to walk?” Casey muses.

Matthias flicks a blue M&M at Casey. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Why not?” Casey asks, catching the M&M. He eats it with two Skittles. Gross.

“Because…” Matthias waves his hands. “There’s no point. We’re going to play at least another four games, hopefully more, and it’s not like I’ll be making any decisions before the season is over.”

“But you’ve talked to your agent,” Casey says.

“Yeah, I’ve talked to him.”

“And what did he say?”

Matthias sighs. “Something about how the Seals might be interested when the time comes. But the time has not come.” He folds his arms across his chest. “I don’t want to think about leaving. Who knows, maybe I’ll stay. Do you want me to stay?”

“Oh, this is so none of my business,” Casey says.

“So you don’t care if I go?”

“I care. It’s still none of my business.”

“But—” Matthias groans, distracted by the Eagles’ backup, who got scored on once more, this time on the power play. “He’s having the worst night.”

“It’s almost over. They’re gonna pull him for the extra skater in a minute.”

“Man, I hope he doesn’t have to talk to the media after this.”

“Yeah, I didn’t miss that while you were in net,” Casey says, shaking his head. “Talking to them was weird today.”

“They always ask ridiculous questions,” Matthias grumbles.

“Yeah, like, ‘Casey, do you feel like you’re ready to go back in?’ Uh, yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, someone who isn’t a goalie machine may be nervous after missing four games.”

“I didn’t miss four games, I was right there.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’m ready,” Casey says gruffly. “I don’t really get nervous anymore.”

“Lucky you,” Matthias says.

CHAPTER THIRTY

CASEY LOOKS… NERVOUS.

“I’m fine,” Casey says when Matthias looks at him for two seconds too long.

They lost Game 1. But it’s fine. It’s just one game. A lot of people have been saying that Coach should have let Matthias start again, but that’s not productive and, honestly, Matthias is pretty sure he wouldn’t have won that game either.

They have home ice again this round, but the Sailors’ first playoff series only went to five games, so they’re rested and more dangerous than ever. They came out flying. Killed them swiftly and mercilessly.

They’re about to go out for Game 2 and Matthias has no idea what to expect. They won all games against the Sailors during the regular season, so it’s not like they can’t win against the Sailors. Although Matthias was in goal for all those games, so he’s not even sure what point he’s trying to make. Anyway. Casey can swing it.

The problem with the Sailors is that they’re the second-oldest team in the league, player-wise, which makes you underestimate them. And then they come at you and you’re like, Wait, they’re fast? They’re pelting me with shots? Their power play will give me nightmares for weeks to come?

The series goes to seven games, with the Vipers winning and losing and winning over and over again until they’re tied and heading back to Vegas, exhausted, but not done yet.

Oliver sleeps on the plane, so Matthias sits with Casey and they watch Schitt’s Creek with the subtitles on. Matthias eventually falls asleep, jerking awake when his head lolls against Casey’s shoulder. Casey’s still wide awake, eyes fixed on Matthias’s iPad, not even twitching when Matthias suddenly sits up straight. It’s still the same episode, so he’s not been asleep for long.

“I don’t mind if you take a nap,” Casey says, his voice low. The plane is quiet with everyone fast asleep. They left Seattle right after the game and they’ll have a day off tomorrow. They all need it.

Matthias could close his eyes and tilt his head away from Casey. That works. They still have another two hours on the plane ahead of them, so it’s for the best if he sleeps at least for a little while.

He’s barely even nodded off again when the plane gives a jolt. Nothing bad, it’s just getting a little bumpy, but the fasten seatbelt signs come on and their captain informs them that they’re hitting some bad weather. Next to Matthias, Casey sighs deeply.

“It’s okay,” Matthias says, looking at Casey, who’s staring out the window like he’s waiting for one of the wings to just fall off.

Casey only gives him a jerky nod. Definitely not okay.

“Hey,” Matthias says and gives him a poke. “Don’t look out there.” He almost reaches across Casey to pull down the blind.

The plane lurches again. Casey grips the armrest, his knuckles going white.

“Let’s just… talk about something?”

“Like what?”

“Uh, puppies? Kittens? Are you a cat person or a dog person? I never asked.”

Casey tears his eyes away from the window to look at Matthias. “I don’t really care. I don’t want to choose. Actually, I don’t want any pets. I like plants.”

“Okay. Well. What’s… your favorite plant?”

“You’re not seriously asking me about plants right now?” Casey says, sucking in a deep breath when the next jolt comes.

“Just go along with it,” Matthias says.

“Fine. The Monstera in my living room. The big one. First plant I got and it’s still alive.”

“Does it have a name?”

“It’s a Monstera.”

“Yeah, but, like, is it called Bob or something?”

“Why would I name it Bob?” Casey asks.

“Why wouldn’t you name it Bob?”

Casey only sighs.

“This isn’t working at all,” Matthias says and instead gently pries Casey’s hand off the armrest to hold it, because that works during takeoff, so maybe it’ll work now. “Breathe?”

“I’m gonna be scared no matter what you do,” Casey says, his face red.

“Okay,” Matthias says and laces their fingers together. He’s held Casey’s hand on the plane before, but he knows this is different and that maybe he shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s too late now.

And Casey is letting him, eyes fixed on the safety instructions that are tucked into the seat pocket.

Somewhere at the front of the plane, two of the guys are mumbling to each other. Maybe Coop and Mikko. No way to hear what they’re saying all the way in the back, but it seems like the bumpy ride has woken up some of the guys. Oliver is apparently still fast asleep. Casey checks if he has his seatbelt on and is appeased when it turns out that he does.

Matthias’s brain is tired enough to wonder what it would be like to kiss the back of Casey’s hand. Not a thought he should be having, and not a thought he should be elaborating on, but Casey has really soft hands. Like, not in the hockey way—Matthias is pretty sure that no one’s ever talked about a goalie’s soft mitts—but Casey probably uses lotion on his hands. So they’re soft. And warm. A little sweaty. Matthias doesn’t care, which tells him just how truly fucked he is.

Casey gives his hand a squeeze as they bump along.

Matthias squeezes back.

After a few minutes, the worst is over. The fasten seatbelt signs turn off and, technically, Matthias could let go of Casey’s hand. But he doesn’t. Casey doesn’t let go either, so Matthias keeps their fingers linked between them and hits play on his iPad and the next time he nods off and his head lolls against Casey’s shoulder, he doesn’t move, because Casey would be the first person to complain if he didn’t want this.

They’re crossing a line. This isn’t casual sex after a night out. Somehow, this feels worse. More risky.

Casey’s the one who didn’t want this and Matthias was so ready to respect his wishes, but maybe right now Casey needs someone close, because he’s under a lot of pressure, and maybe Matthias can, very conveniently, be that person for him. He doesn’t mind. He just needs to prepare for how much of a gut punch it’ll be when Casey suddenly doesn’t need anyone close anymore and pushes him away.

Because he will. Eventually. Maybe tomorrow, maybe after Game 7. And fuck knows how that’ll end. If they keep going, if Conference Finals take their toll and make Casey come to him again for… whatever this is.

It’ll all come crashing down around him, but he still doesn’t let go of Casey’s hand. Not until they’re on the tarmac and about to head out into a sweltering Vegas night.

“I feel dead,” Oliver says when he gets up and stretches. “Fuck, I want my bed to appear right here.”

“You can sleep in the car,” Casey says. He gave them a ride to the airport, so he’ll give them a ride home.

“But that means I have to walk to the car first,” Oliver grumbles.

“Think about Minnie,” Matthias says. “She’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Yeah and then she’ll be happy to see me again at 7 AM when she wants breakfast,” Oliver says. “And if I don’t get up, she’ll break into my room and jump into my bed and she’ll slobber all over my entire face.”

“Because she loves you,” Matthias says.

“Because I give her food.”

“I’m telling you, you need to put a child lock on your bedroom door,” Casey says.

“And lock her out?” Matthias says. “That’s mean.”

“That’s how Ollie doesn’t get slobbered on at 7 AM.”

“I can’t think about child locks at this hour, what the fuck is wrong with you guys,” Oliver says flatly. “Someone get me home and tuck me in.” He grabs his backpack and heads down the aisle.

“I’ll tuck you in, sweetpea,” Coop shouts in the exact tone of voice he also uses to shout stuff like I’ll tear you apart, motherfucker at opposing players.

“What happened to using your inside voice on late night flights?” Mikko grumbles, making sure to glare at all of them individually as they get off the plane.

Casey texts him the morning before Game 7. Just: give me a ride to morning skate.

No question, just a straightforward order and—all right. Matthias will give him a ride to morning skate.

“Are both of your cars broken?” Matthias asks when Casey gets into the passenger seat.

“You’re early,” Casey says.

“I always get there before you. And you were clearly ready to go anyway,” Matthias replies. “Put on your seatbelt.”

Casey does put on his seatbelt.

“So?” Matthias asks.

“I just needed a ride to practice,” Casey says.

“Right, you just needed a ride and you texted me instead of Ollie, that’s all totally normal.”

“You’re a better driver than Ollie.”

“That’s true,” Matthias says and pulls away from the curb without getting honked at, which isn’t something Oliver manages in fifty percent of cases. “But Ollie’s your… Ollie.”

That doesn’t make a lot of sense, really, but Casey and Oliver were here together long before Matthias showed up. They’re different. Oliver should be the one Casey goes to for a ride. So it doesn’t make sense that Casey is sitting in his car right now.

Casey twitches. “Ollie isn’t a goalie.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay. He isn’t.”

“I think I’m nervous now.”

Matthias chews on his bottom lip as he takes a right out of their neighborhood. He’s not entirely sure what to do with that information. “About tonight?” he asks.

Casey huffs. Which is probably a yes.

“Well, it’s… a big game,” Matthias ventures.

“Yeah.”

“And if we lose…”

“Yeah.”

“But it’s not… we totally stand a chance,” Matthias says, because being all negative won’t help anyone. “I mean, the series is tied, right?”

“Hmm.”

“I… am I helping?” Matthias asks. He’s just floundering along. He doesn’t know how to cheer up someone like Casey. In all honesty, Casey never struck him as the kind of person who needed to be cheered up. Ever. He’s the kind of guy who deals with whatever life throws at him. He’s grumpy about it, but he deals with it.

“No. But I didn’t really want you to help anyway,” Casey says. “I just wanted to say it out loud. When we get to the rink, we can pretend we never had this conversation.”

Matthias frowns, but mostly at the person who just cut in front of him without using their blinker. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know?”

“I don’t get nervous.”

“Except apparently you do.”

“Not like this. I couldn’t sleep last night. I always sleep before games.”

“What are you worried about?”

“I don’t know,” Casey says. “I tried not to think of anything and it mostly worked, but I was still awake until three in the morning. I don’t know. It’s weird and I don’t like it.”

“Maybe take an extra long nap this afternoon?”

“It doesn’t really matter, I just…”

“You just wanted to say it,” Matthias finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

Matthias still doesn’t get why Casey didn’t ask Oliver for a ride. Yeah, Matthias is a goalie, he knows his goalie shit, he knows all about the pressure that comes with their job. But Matthias isn’t Oliver, who would know exactly what to say to Casey right now.

“And did that help?” Matthias asks.

“I guess,” Casey says. “Hey, we’re still early, can we stop for coffee?”

“No,” Matthias says. “I always get there…” He shakes his head.

“What?”

“I was gonna say, I always get there before you, but you’re in the car with me, so we’ll get there at the same time no matter what.”

Casey shifts in the passenger seat. “Is that a competition I didn’t know anything about?”

“No,” Matthias says, even though it totally is.

“You literally get up early so you can get to the rink before me, I cannot believe you,” Casey says. “Why? Is this some work ethic bullshit?”

“I like getting there early.”

“Tell you what,” Casey says, sounding absolutely delighted, “if you go through the next drive-through that will get me some coffee, I’ll let you get out of the car first, so you’ll still be at the rink before me. Deal?”

“You must really want that coffee,” Matthias says.

He does stop so Casey can buy a large black coffee and he gets one with milk and sugar for Matthias as well.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

“WHO COULD YOU possibly be texting right now?” Coop shouts, shaking his head at Oliver, who hasn’t looked up from his phone in the past ten minutes.

They made it past the Sailors. And Mikko decided that they could all go out for a drink after the game, since they’re in Vegas and they deserve a break. It would have felt weird to just go home, but they’re all tired and Matthias doubts that anyone will be getting drunk tonight.

“His moms,” Sid says with a wink. “Are they proud? My mom hasn’t texted me yet, she probably fell asleep during the game.”

Oliver waves him off. Not his moms, then.

Coop eventually pulls Sid away with him to get more drinks. Matthias is sticking to his singular beer. Most of the beer they sell here—not in this bar but in America in general—is terrible. Casey is nursing a Coke, with an almost-smile on his face. He totally knows who Oliver is texting.

Matthias has an idea as well.

As soon as it’s just the three of them at the table, Matthias leans closer to Oliver. “So. Seals next round.”

Casey laughs, so Matthias must be on the right track.

“Uh-huh,” Oliver says.

Casey leans forward, grin on his face. “How’s Little Fou doing?”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “He’s fine.”

“Did he text you?” Matthias asks. “You should ask him out.”

“Right. Hey, mate, I know we’re gonna be mortal enemies until this playoff round is over, how do you feel about grabbing a beer while you’re in town?”

“Yeah, like that,” Matthias says, nodding at Oliver.

Casey is shaking his head, but also smiling the tiniest bit, and Matthias doesn’t like what it does to the pit of his stomach.

“He’s not into guys,” Oliver says.

“Is that evidence-based or just, like,” Matthias waggles his fingers, “a feeling. Because those feelings are wrong a lot.”

“Oh, really, are they? You’re an expert?”

Matthias shrugs. He felt like Casey was very straight until they were making out and it turned out that he was very much not.

“Whatever. He just texted me to say, ‘See you in the next round.’ That’s hardly flirting.”

“I don’t text my opponents before an important playoff series,” Casey says.

“Oh, come on, not you, too. You’re supposed to be the pessimistic one.”

Casey shrugs. “We just made it to Conference Finals. I don’t do pessimism tonight.”

“We made it to Conference Finals and you made the best save,” Matthias says.

One of the Sailors—Little Fou’s big brother—tried a lacrosse goal, but Casey totally had it. Didn’t even blink. Matthias already knew that Casey had it even before the puck bounced off his blocker.

Casey, predictably, shrugs.

Oliver’s phone lights up again. And Oliver swipes it off the table before anyone can get a look, but Matthias would bet that it’s Fournier again.

“Are you going to reply to that?” Matthias asks, nudging Oliver with his elbow. “Seriously, why would he keep texting you if he—”

“We’re friends, we text sometimes. It’s not a big deal.”

“You text sometimes, huh?” Matthias says, because it’s not like Oliver has told him to shut up.

“Yeah, you know, when we played against each other. Or when we saw him and the guys when we went out for dinner in San Diego.”

“And what did you talk about?”

“The fajitas. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Casey echoes.

Oliver shifts in his seat.

“And?” Matthias asks.

“He said maybe we should go eat fajitas together the next time I’m in town.”

“Ohhh.”

“But—”

“That’s totally flirting.”

“—that’s—”

“Casey, back me up here.”

“It’s not that,” Oliver says. “Anyway, it’s not like we can go eat fajitas the next time we’re in San Diego, because it’s the playoffs and you don’t go out for dinner with your playoff opponents.”

“You could always get takeout,” Casey suggests.

“You know what,” Oliver says and gets up, “I’m going away now. Because you two are horrible.”

“We’re not horrible, we are correct,” Matthias says.

“Same thing,” Oliver says and runs away to sit with Bolt instead.

Matthias turns to Casey. “We are correct.”

Casey shrugs. “He won’t believe how correct we are until he has Little Fou’s tongue in his mouth.”

“Ew,” Matthias says. “Not in a homophobic way, just in an ew way.”

Their first game against the Seals doesn’t go so well. It doesn’t go well at all.

The Vipers score. That’s good. Then they score again. That’s even better. Matthias is actually enjoying sitting on the bench when things are going their way, but the Seals won’t let him have nice things. In the third, they score and score and score.

Matthias doesn’t like to think it, but the first one is kind of Casey’s fault, because he mishandled the puck. The second one is a weird bounce, the third one is a breakaway.

The fourth one hurts the most.

It’s a rebound, bouncing away from Casey, and Oliver gets his stick on it, wants to take off with it, but it bounces again and Casey doesn’t stand a chance when it hits the post and goes in.

The Seals celebrate, Casey’s eyes are murderous, and Oliver looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up. Casey says something to Oliver before he skates back to the bench, but Oliver only shakes his head and flees, hiding his face behind his gloves once he’s sitting down.

Matthias is too far away to give him a pat on the back. No point in saying it’s okay, because it’s not okay and Oliver will beat himself up about this, no matter what anyone says, but when this kind of thing happens to a teammate, you can’t just say nothing and let them deal with it on their own. These things happen. Own goals, weird bounces, flubbed passes that turn into breakaways. They’re part of the game.

Once they’re back in the room, Jannik basically gets pushed into Matthias’s stall when the reporters crowd around Oliver to poke and prod him about just how bad he feels about that goal.

“Ollie,” Matthias says once they’re gone.

“Please don’t be nice to me right now. I think I’ll cry if you’re nice to me,” Oliver mutters and quickly heads to the showers.

“I told him,” Coop says, “it happens to all of us. Last season, we lost a playoff game because the puck hit my skate and went in.”

Matthias sighs. “This sucks.”

Casey pulls Oliver aside as they leave the arena. Maybe it’s better if Casey talks to him, because Casey won’t try to be nice to him.

When Matthias is home and has snuggled into bed, Casey texts him—ECF at my place tomorrow.

Matthias replies with a thumbs-up emoji. He suspects that watching hockey at Casey’s will be less about the actual hockey and more about distracting Oliver from what happened.

They’ll hang out and maybe glance at the TV every once in a while. It’s better that way because Matthias hates the Grizzlies and how they play. Those asshats. One of them gave Heartsy a concussion during Matthias’s first NHL season. Same guy tried to give Matthias a concussion a few months later, but he didn’t succeed and Matthias would have totally fought him if Heartsy hadn’t jumped in.

When Matthias gets to Casey’s the next day, Casey says, “He’s ditching us again.”

“To mope?”

“I guess so.”

“Absolutely not,” Matthias says. “We can’t just let him be sad. What did you say to him yesterday?”

“You think I told him it was all his fault?”

Okay, Casey isn’t that much of a dick. “No.”

“It wasn’t his fault and he knows that. That wasn’t his first hockey game, or even his first playoff game. He’ll get over it,” Casey says. “We all get over it. He just needs some time to sulk.”

“But he shouldn’t be sulking alone,” Matthias says, hovering by the doorway instead of following Casey into the house.

“What, you wanna go over there and make him sulk in our company?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Or we could leave him alone,” Casey says. “Because that’s what he wants.”

Matthias leans back against the door. Folds his arms across his chest. Looks up at Casey. “Did he actually say that to you? That he wants us to leave him alone?”

“No, he just said he’s not coming,” Casey says. “Which makes it pretty obvious that he doesn’t want to be around other people right now.”

“Maybe that’s what it sounds like to you.”

Casey raises his eyebrows at him. “And what does it sound like to you?”

“I don’t know, I feel like Ollie is hiding at home because he doesn’t want to subject us to his bad mood.”

“That…” Casey shakes his head. “That actually sounds a lot like him.”

“Right?” Matthias says pointedly. Oliver wants to make everyone happy and at the same time he doesn’t want anyone to see him unhappy. He probably even thinks he’s a burden. So he sulks at home, all by himself, and wishes someone was around to give him a hug.

Casey shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“I know you would actually want us to leave you alone if it was you,” Matthias says.

“Well. Yeah.”

“That’s not Ollie, though.”

“Fine,” Casey says. “Let’s go over there. You grab the chips, I’ll get the beer.”

The beer and the chips end up in the same bag and Casey carries all of it, grumbling about the heat as they head down the street. Matthias tells him that maybe he shouldn’t have worn black skinny jeans. Casey tells him to maybe mind his own business. Matthias won’t lie, Casey looks great in the black skinny jeans. He doesn’t mind if Casey wears them in the one-thousand degree Vegas heat. So he minds his own business, like Casey told him.

“So,” Matthias asks as they walk up to Oliver’s door. “Who are we rooting for? Boston or Pittsburgh?”

“We hate them both equally,” Casey says and rings the doorbell.

Minnie shows up behind the glass pane next to the door almost immediately, only barking once before she starts slobbering all over the glass, her tail wagging.

“Hey, sweet girl,” Matthias says and taps the glass.

Minnie slobbers some more.

Matthias blows her a kiss. “There will never be a person who’s that excited to see me.”

“Tragic,” Casey says and rings the doorbell again.

“Maybe he’s not home?”

“Where the hell would he be?”

Matthias shrugs. “Strip club?”

“Yeah, right,” Casey mutters, taking a step back when the door opens a few inches.

“What are you guys doing here?” Oliver asks. He huffs when Minnie tries to squeeze past him.

He lets her and Matthias bends down to scratch her head. “Is that the best girl?”

“Um,” Oliver says.

“We didn’t want you to sulk alone,” Matthias says.

Oliver’s face grows soft. “Aw. I totally appreciate it, babes, but you seriously don’t have to worry about me.”

“So you’re not sulking?” Casey asks, eyes narrowed.

“I’m getting over it as we speak,” Oliver says. “You guys go watch the game. Okay? Good. Bye.”

“Are you trying to get rid of us?” Casey asks.

“No, of course not.”

“What’s going on?” Matthias adds, because Oliver is totally trying to get rid of them. “Are you sure you’re okay? That goal wasn’t your fault.”

“It totally was, Brandy,” Oliver says.

“It was a weird bounce.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter, the game’s over.” Oliver waves him off. “You guys honestly don’t have to worry about me. Watch the game. Have a nice evening.” He nods at Casey’s bag. “Eat a bunch of that unhealthy crap.”

“We could watch the game here,” Matthias says, scratching Minnie’s head. “With the best girl.”

Minnie doesn’t seem to mind and nudges Oliver out of the way.

“It’s really not a good time,” Oliver whispers.

Casey shifts, peering into the house.

“Why?” Matthias whispers back. “Are you sick?”

Casey grins. “He’s not sick. Right, Ollie?”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “No. Fuck’s sake. There’s a half-naked guy in my house, okay? Are you happy now? Are you going to leave?”

“Oh,” Matthias says. “Oh.”

“You could have just said you were busy hooking up with some guy,” Casey says and gives Oliver’s temple a flick. “Then we wouldn’t have come over here. Mattie made a really convincing case that you need us because you’re all sad and lonely.”

“Brandy, you’re too good for this world,” Oliver says. “Honestly, I just didn’t want to see your judgmental faces at morning skate tomorrow.”

Matthias totally manages to keep his face in check. He’s so proud of himself. Is Oliver seriously hooking up with Little Fou right in the middle their playoff series? Well, not in the middle. Whatever.

“Oh, you will be seeing my judgmental face,” Casey says, shaking his head. “Really, during playoffs?”

Oliver pulls a face. “I was sad. He asked me if I wanted to hang out. I wasn’t gonna say no.”

“So Little Fou isn’t straight, huh?” Matthias asks. He can’t help himself.

“I never said it was him,” Oliver says, poking Matthias’s chest. “Now fuck off, both of you.”

Oliver is nice enough to let Matthias give Minnie another pat before he shuts the door in their faces.

“Wow, okay,” Matthias says.

Casey shrugs. “You still wanna watch the game?”

“Sure. I wanna eat the unhealthy crap you bought.” Matthias looks back at Oliver’s house. Is it bad that he’s kind of jealous? Oliver somehow managed to work things out with the guy he insisted was extra straight only a few days ago. And Matthias is going home with Casey and sitting on the other end of the couch and listening to him grumble about the Grizzlies, who are leaving a path of total destruction in their wake on live television.

Every so often, Matthias shoots him a glance, and wonders if it would really be so bad if he scooted closer, if he put his hand on Casey’s thigh, leaned in to kiss him, threaded his fingers into his hair. Sometimes Casey looks back at him. One time, he’s looking at him already.

It would be so easy to think that it means something.

Maybe it does.

But Casey was pretty damn clear about his boundaries and as long as he doesn’t tell Matthias that he’s changed his mind, he won’t move an inch. It wouldn’t be fair, because Matthias has a feeling that if he kissed Casey, he would kiss him back.

Matthias falls asleep on the couch sometime during the third period. It’s not even that late yet, but he didn’t take a nap this afternoon. He hasn’t been playing, but a bunch of the guys—the younger guys who spend most of their time as healthy scratches in particular—usually stick around long after practice has ended and Matthias sticks around with them, because they appreciate having a goalie and he appreciates getting to play at least a little bit of hockey.

He isn’t completely awake when Casey spreads a blanket over him. It’s a soft one. It doesn’t cover Matthias’s feet, but it’s not that cold at Casey’s anyway, despite the air conditioning.

Matthias probably shouldn’t sleep here. He should shake the exhaustion off for another ten minutes and go home, but the blanket tells him to relax, to stay, so when he wakes up, it’s three in the morning and the lights are off.

Casey has left him a glass of water on the coffee table.

Matthias is not walking home right now. He turns over and pulls up his legs, so his feet are under the blanket, and goes back to sleep.

In the morning, Casey, with pillow creases on his face, makes him coffee and an omelet, like it’s perfectly normal, and gives him a ride to practice, because that’s apparently just what they do now.

“Don’t forget to give Ollie judgmental looks,” Casey says when they get to the rink.

“Are we really going to?”

“Yes. We absolutely are.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

OLIVER ISN’T EVEN at the rink yet when they get there. He arrives five minutes later than usual, pulling on his gear in record speed as Casey and Matthias are heading onto the ice.

Neither Matthias nor Casey say anything about last night, but Matthias makes sure to give Oliver a fake-judgmental look when he skates past him. Oliver sticks out his tongue at him.

“I do not kiss and tell,” Oliver says when Matthias falls into step with him when they leave in the afternoon.

“I wasn’t going to ask, I’m just here for the judgmental stares since Casey has a meeting with Coach,” Matthias says sweetly. “And you need to give me a ride home.”

“Why? Where’s your car?”

“At my house. Casey gave me a ride.”

“Why did Casey—” Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh my God,” he whispers and leans closer. “Did you and Casey hook up again?”

“No,” Matthias says. “Just because you can’t keep it in your pants doesn’t mean we’re all like that.”

“I’ll have you know that it was in my pants the entire evening,” Oliver says and elbows him in the side.

“I thought you don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’m not telling you anything we did, I’m just telling you what we didn’t do, because apparently you and Casey both have your minds in the gutter.”

Matthias laughs. “You said he was half-naked. You would have assumed the same thing.”

“Okay, maybe.”

“But you did kiss?”

Oliver looks around. “That’s kind of what I don’t kiss and tell implies.”

“So he isn’t straight.”

“Oh, I see,” Oliver says, grinning at him, “this is just about you being right. Fine. You were right.”

Matthias tries not to be too pleased with himself.

“Look, I told him you two were checking on me, because it was kind of hard to miss that you were there, and that you sort of realized that he was there, because you’ve been onto me.” Oliver waves at the fans that are waiting by the fence, but makes straight for his car, beckoning Matthias to come along. At least he’s not leaving Matthias at the rink for being a nosy little shit. “So I had to tell him that I’ve been having… some interest in him. For a while. Which was really embarrassing. So thank you so much for that.”

“Well, at least you’re on the same page,” Matthias says and gets into the passenger seat. “Are you gonna see him again? Off the ice, I mean.”

“When the season’s over,” Oliver says. “Maybe. Probably. This is a bit messy. I wasn’t expecting him to check on me, you know? That was very nice of him. And I’m weak for dudes who are nice to me. I know you can’t relate, because you’re into Casey and Casey is not nice to people.”

Matthias huffs.

Casey tucked him in last night. Casey left a glass of water on the table. Casey drove him to practice. Sure, the stuff that comes out of his mouth isn’t nice and maybe you won’t find a picture of Casey when you look up nice in the dictionary, but it’s not like Casey doesn’t care about other people.

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have insulted your taste in men,” Oliver adds.

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t be hooking up with a teammate, I know,” Matthias says, grabbing the handle under the window when Oliver takes a sharp right. “It’s totally my own fault.”

“Well, you guys are fine, right?” Oliver says. He must be in such a good mood if he’s not pouncing on the chance to give Matthias shit about Casey.

“We are,” Matthias says.

“Oh no, I heard the but. Give me the but.”

Matthias laughs.

“You know what I mean.”

“It’s…” Matthias sighs. Is he really going to tell Oliver this? He’s barely admitted it to himself. “It’s not just sex for me. But don’t worry, I’ll get over it.”

“Will you.”

“Yeah. I have to,” Matthias says. “I don’t know what’s going to happen after this season, but if I stay, I have to get over him so we can work together, and if I leave, I have to get over him so I don’t spend all my time missing him.” Matthias clears his throat. “I know that sounds totally pathetic, please forget that I said all that.”

Oliver doesn’t reply, which hopefully means that he’s working on forgetting what Matthias just said. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Ugh, you know what?”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t get involved in this.”

“I’m not, like, asking you for advice or anything.”

“Right, you’re just moping in my car. As your friend, I need to help you stop moping, just like you were going to help me yesterday,” Oliver says and hits the breaks. Hard. “Fucker,” he says, probably to the guy who just stopped in front of them without so much as an indication. “Listen. Have you talked to Casey?”

“About what?”

“Your feelings?”

“No?” Matthias says. Why in the hell would he do such a thing? “Things aren’t awkward right now and I want things to continue to not be awkward.”

“Okay. This is where my involvement ends,” Oliver says.

His phone, stuck in one of the cupholders, buzzes. Once. Twice. Oliver glances at it, his lips twitch, then he fixes his eyes back on the road.

“Was that Little Fou?” Matthias asks. He’s not even being nosy this time, he just wants to change the subject.

“He has a first name, you know that, right?”

“Yeah?” Matthias asks. “What is it?”

It’s Marcus. Matthias knows that it’s Marcus.

“Ugh, I’m so close to making you walk.”

Matthias sticks out his bottom lip. “You wouldn’t.”

Oliver sighs. “I wouldn’t.”

Matthias doesn’t talk to Casey. Of course he doesn’t.

He doesn’t have a death wish. Casey is in full-on playoff mode: ninety-nine percent glares, one percent black coffee.

They do talk about other things, mostly over breakfast, while Casey is too busy drinking coffee to glare. Oliver is a lot perkier now that he’s made out with Little Fou. He’s back to his usual ray-of-sunshine self when they win Games 2 and 3.

The Seals take Game 4, but it’s a close one.

They go back to Vegas tied and Matthias naps in the row behind Casey and Oliver, although it’s a pretty short nap.

Game 5 is theirs. A close one again. Matthias catches Oliver writing an apology text to Fournier.

“Do you do that after every game?” Matthias asks.

“I don’t know why you’re even asking,” Oliver replies.

After Game 6, before they get on the plane, he has to write an extra long apology, because the Vipers walked into the Seals’ arena and completely destroyed them on home ice. Not a single goal for San Diego. Casey teases him, so Oliver makes him sit with Matthias on the plane.

No one’s taking a nap tonight. Coop, by himself, is celebrating too loudly for anyone to fall asleep. He’s dancing in the aisle to 90s pop songs and the other guys are cheering him on.

“How long until he takes his shirt off?” Oliver says from the row behind them.

“Five minutes?” Matthias guesses. “Less?”

It takes three and a slap on the ass from Sid.

“I know I’m supposed to be happy about making the Finals, and I am, I am beyond excited,” Oliver says, “but I’m most excited about the rest day we’re getting tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna sleep all day,” Casey says.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. Same, dude. I will get up for Minnie, because I love my big, fluffy girl, but other than that? Takeout and Netflix.” He gives Matthias’s bun a poke. “Right?”

“Right,” Matthias says. Although he doesn’t really need the rest day. He’s been resting since the first round. He goes to practices and morning skates, but other than that he sits on the bench.

Casey shoots him a sidelong glance but doesn’t say anything. Thank fuck, because Oliver might hear and would try to cheer him up. And then Matthias would feel even more pathetic because no hockey player should need cheering up when his team just made it to the final round of playoffs.

“Fuck, I hope the Grizzlies don’t win tomorrow. I need them to play a Game 7, so I can chill out for a few more days,” Oliver says.

“Isn’t it better if you just keep going without a break?” Matthias says.

“Mentally it is,” Casey says. “Less time to think. But physically? I’ll take the break.”

Matthias shouldn’t have gotten involved in the conversation, because what does he know? Thankfully, Coop threatens to take his pants off a moment later, so they’re all sufficiently distracted and Matthias doesn’t have to think about being useless anymore.

The flight takes approximately five minutes. Okay, it’s more, but it’s not enough time for Coop to actually get around to taking his pants off. Mikko decides to give a speech about the power of friendship—“He totally thinks the team meeting worked,” Oliver grumbles—and Casey is sitting in the window seat with a smile on his face.

Casey never smiles on planes.

Matthias still takes his hand when they land. He pretends that he doesn’t notice that Casey is looking at their interlaced fingers the entire time, until the plane touches down, bounces the tiniest bit, and he pulls his hand away, like he couldn’t deal with touching Matthias for a second longer.

Matthias won’t read anything into that. Not that Casey is repulsed by him and not that Casey wants him so much that even holding hands is too hard. Seriously. He won’t waste a single thought on it.

He definitely won’t lie awake for the rest of the night thinking about it either.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

THE GRIZZLIES WIN Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals, which means the Vipers won’t have home ice advantage for the first time during this playoff run.

“I’m not saying it feels like we’re doomed,” Oliver says when they get on the plane to Boston the day before the game, “but I’m allowed to say that I don’t like it, right?”

“No,” Casey replies. “You’re not allowed to say that.”

“Well, I already did.”

“Tons of teams have won the Cup, even though they didn’t have home ice,” Matthias says.

Casey stops in the aisle and turns around. “Name one.”

“Um,” Matthias says.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sure there’s several,” Matthias says. “We can google it.”

“Or we can remain blissfully ignorant and not find out that there was like one team in the 1950s that managed to win without home ice advantage,” Oliver says and slides into the second-to-last row.

Matthias is absolutely not disappointed that Oliver is sitting with Casey today. Matthias takes the row across from them. Once they’re on their way, he has to get rid of Sid, who’s trying to convince him to play some made-up Vipers card game very creatively called Broke, because someone will be broke by the end of it. When Matthias arrived in Vegas, he made the terrible mistake of joining them. It must have been his first roadie with the team. He lost fifty bucks and he hasn’t played since. He knows better now.

Instead, he grabs his tablet and pulls up Schitt’s Creek. He’s made it to the last available season and he’ll probably watch a good chunk of it on this flight. He’ll have to find something else to watch for later. Or he’ll just re-start it from the beginning.

Halfway through the episode, Casey scoots into the middle seat. Across the aisle, Oliver is fast asleep with his cheek smushed up against the window.

“Hey,” Matthias says.

Casey nods, gets comfortable, and smiles when Matthias turns on the subtitles.

Matthias has been wanting to ask Casey if he really enjoys watching shows without hearing what the actors are saying and just reading the subtitles, but once again he doesn’t. There’s a fifty percent chance that Casey will get all pissy about it and then he’ll go back to Oliver—and Matthias does not want him to go back to Oliver.

Because he’s pathetic and enjoys that Casey’s knee knocks against his every so often when Casey shifts. Casey probably doesn’t even notice. Matthias hates that he notices more than a normal amount. When they land, Casey doesn’t go back to Oliver, who’s somehow still not woken up, so Matthias hooks his pinky finger around Casey’s.

They flew out after practice and a ton of fans had gathered at their practice rink to see them off. Once they’re in Boston, they’re headed straight to the hotel, with some of the guys making plans for dinner.

Matthias ends up getting room service with Oliver and Casey, all of them eating their food on Oliver’s bed. Oliver gives zero shits and steals food off both their plates, throwing a fry at Matthias when he tries to exact revenge and grabbing an onion ring. At least he has a fry now.

They go back home tied.

Sure, they would have liked two wins, but it’s better than two losses.

Matthias is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this is the final round. If they win another three games, the Cup is theirs. It doesn’t seem real.

On the day off between games, they hang out in each other’s rooms, the guys coming and going, occasionally returning with iced coffee or snacks. Coop leaves and comes back with three boxes of supermarket cookies. Mikko frowns at them, but eats one, too. Even Oliver takes one.

In Vegas, they lose Game 3, and the next day Coop invites them over. Not for a party, though. For the first time in the history of Coop Get Togethers, Oliver says. A day at Coop’s is usually a guaranteed party, but today they only hang out at the pool. No WAGs, just the guys. Coop has beer, but barely anyone drinks.

Matthias finds a spot in the shade because his pale ass burns in the Vegas summer. He texts his grandma, who sent him pictures she took in the garden this afternoon. She’s about to go to bed. She reminds him to drink a lot of water.

“Don’t tell me you also have a secret hockey boyfriend,” Casey says when he flops down in the empty beach chair next to him.

“Huh?” Matthias says and looks up.

“You’re smiling at your phone.”

“Oh. It’s my grandma. Apparently, the strawberry harvest is amazing this year.”

Casey’s lips twitch.

“She always makes me strawberry cake when I come home in the summer,” Matthias adds.

Casey leans back. “Sounds nice,” he says. He just got out of the pool. His hair is dripping wet and drops of water chase each other down his chest. The playoff beard looks good on him.

Matthias still doesn’t have much of a beard to speak of, but he wasn’t expecting any miracles. “It is nice,” he says. “By the time I get home, there won’t be any more strawberry cake.”

“Really, your grandma won’t be able to get strawberries in July?”

“Not the good ones from her garden,” Matthias says.

Casey laughs. “I love that the strawberries are a priority here. Fuck the Cup, the strawberries are where it’s at.”

Matthias pulls up one of the pictures and shows it to Casey.

“Holy shit, they’re huge,” Casey says, deadpan. “Okay, I get it now.” He tilts his head, a strand of wet hair falling into his eyes. “How’s your grandpa?”

“Pretty good,” Matthias says. “He gets strawberry cake every day.”

“Are they coming for one of the games?”

“Not my grandparents. My mom may come for Game 6. If there is a Game 6. Although… I won’t be playing, so does it matter? She could just come for the parade. If there is a parade.”

“She’d see you on the ice during warm-ups.”

Matthias presses his lips together.

“Okay, maybe that wasn’t helpful,” Casey says. “But…” He shifts to lean closer, head tipped. “When I was still a backup, my mom never wanted to come to one of my games. She still doesn’t come. Doesn’t like to travel.”

“Do you want her to come?” Matthias asks.

Casey leans back again. “Not anymore.”

“What about your sister?”

“I’ll get her a ticket if she asks.”

“And if she doesn’t ask?”

“Then I won’t,” Casey says.

“Hm,” Matthias says.

Casey is quiet for a moment, then he says, “You’re not going to ask why?”

“No, that’s none of my business, which is probably what you’d tell me if I did ask. It’s not like you have some obligation to want them there.”

“I think some people would disagree with you there.”

“Yeah, people who don’t have difficult families,” Matthias says. He wouldn’t want his dad to show up at one of their games. Truth be told, he’s not even sure he’d recognize his dad if he was standing at the glass during warm-ups. Maybe he’s watched Matthias play and he doesn’t even know it. He doesn’t want to know. His dad left, that was his choice. Matthias has come to terms with that, has learned that he can also choose not to give a flying fuck about the guy who was his dad once upon a time.

Casey’s lips twitch. “I’m so glad we made it to the finals. Now I have a really great excuse not to go home.”

“You’re not going home at all this summer?” Matthias asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe for a couple of days, just to have our yearly scheduled arguments.”

“What about your Cup Day?”

“I’m not thinking about that yet,” Casey says.

“Didn’t you tell me once that you don’t believe in jinxes?”

“It’s not a jinx thing.” Casey rolls his eyes. “I’ll think about it when the time comes.”

Matthias kind of loves that Casey’s saying when and not if. They’re down in the series, but they have at least two more games to play.

“Oh. So you don’t know what you’ll do with it yet?”

“You do?”

“I’ll bring it to my grandparents’ house and I’ll put beer in it.”

Casey grins. “And strawberry cake?”

“If I’m lucky,” Matthias says.

Casey brushes his hair back. It’s drying fast and it’s all fluffy now and Matthias wants to sink his fingers into it. He stares at the pool, where Sid and Bolt are arguing about who gets to lie down in the donut floatie.

“What else are your grandparents growing? Anything good? Cucumbers? Tomatoes? Weed?”

“My grandparents don’t even know what weed is,” Matthias says. “Other than that? They’ve got everything. The zucchini is out of control every year. And my grandpa loves his potatoes.”

“What about carrots?”

“What’s with the sudden interest in my grandparent’s vegetable patch?”

“I’d rather think about your grandparents’ vegetable patch than tomorrow, to be honest.”

Matthias doesn’t ask him if he’s nervous. He is. He basically just told him, in a very Casey kind of way.

“Want me to tell you about the one time they tried to grow eggplants and they turned out really pathetic?” Matthias asks. Because what else is he supposed to do? Casey doesn’t need a pep talk. Casey’s not worried about fucking it up, he’s probably not worried at all. Just inexplicable jitters, because deep down, he—just like all the other guys—knows that everything could change for them very, very soon.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

MATTHIAS HASN’T LAIN down for his pregame nap yet when Casey knocks on his hotel room door.

It’s the afternoon before Game 5 and Matthias is both surprised and not surprised at all when he opens the door.

Casey doesn’t say anything, he just bounces on the balls of his feet, arms folded across his chest, and stares at him, like he needs him to understand what’s going on here.

“You wanna come in?” Matthias asks, because he’s not psychic.

Casey nods and marches into Matthias’s hotel room, hovering by the bed for a moment.

“So?” Matthias prompts.

Casey shrugs, sullen. “I… can’t stop thinking.”

“Ah,” Matthias says. He knows what that is like. He also knows why Casey is here now. “You’re here for a distraction.”

Casey presses his lips together. Doesn’t want to admit it.

“I don’t mind,” Matthias says.

Casey deflates, just a little. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Okay.” Matthias takes a step closer.

So does Casey. And then Casey’s hands are on his sides and he leans in and kisses him. Matthias doesn’t give himself even a second to think about what a terrible idea this is, he just kisses Casey back, and they tumble into bed and kiss some more, like they’ve been doing this for years.

Casey stays. Takes a nap in Matthias’s room. When their alarms go off at the same time and Matthias jerks awake, Casey is already looking at him, turning his alarm off first while Matthias is still scrambling for his phone to make it shut up.

“Ugh,” Matthias says.

Casey stretches with a satisfied sigh and sits up. “I should go back to my room,” he mumbles.

“Yeah. Good idea.”

“Are we—do you want to talk about it?” Casey asks. Weirdly thoughtful of him. “Or just forget about it?” That’s probably what he’d prefer.

“Can I get back to you on that?” Matthias says, because he should not be making this kind of decision when he just woke up. Never mind. They should talk about it. Definitely. “You know what, let’s not.”

“Okay,” Casey says and doesn’t move for a moment, like he’s waiting for Matthias to change his mind and say, Actually, Casey, what does this all mean?

Matthias knows exactly what this was. Casey needed someone, like he did on the plane, and Matthias happened to be across the hall. That’s really all there is to it. Matthias won’t let himself read anything into those ten minutes of making out. What do ten minutes mean, really?

So Casey goes back to his room and when they get on the bus to the arena, Casey sits by himself, like he always does before games, and Matthias sits with Oliver, who shows him the pictures of Minnie his dog sitter sent.

Matthias sits on the bench while the guys win Game 5 in overtime. Just one overtime, thankfully. Casey looks exhausted at the end of it and grumbles half-assed answers at the media. When they get on the plane, he ends up next to Matthias because Oliver wants to sleep in the very last row. Honestly, Matthias also wants to sleep in the very last row. Casey seems to notice, because once they’ve reached cruising altitude, he says, “You should get some rest.”

“So should you,” Matthias mumbles. “Anyway, I need to book my mom a flight, so…”

“She is coming for the next one, then?”

“Yeah, she is.”

She was already awake by the time the game was over and told Matthias she wanted to be there. Matthias does want her there, even if he’s not playing. The Cup will be in the building and maybe he’ll end up buying her a ticket to Boston as well, but nothing’s set in stone yet.

He books the flight and picks an arrival time when he’ll be able to pick her up, Casey wide awake next to him, staring out at the night sky, finger tapping against his knee.

Without thinking about it, Matthias reaches over and covers Casey’s hand with his.

Casey’s eyes narrow.

“It made me nervous,” Matthias whispers.

Casey takes a deep breath through his nose. “I’ll stop.”

“Okay.” Matthias lets go of Casey’s hand.

Casey flexes his hand. Or maybe he just moves it. Hard to tell.

Matthias still needs to figure out when his mom is going back to Germany—she’s taking a week off and she can tack on a few more days if she needs to. She may stick around even if the Vipers end up losing. No, she definitely will. But if they do win the Cup, there will be a parade and parties and his mom will want to be here for that, too.

So, just one flight for now.

“Is she staying at your place?”

“Yeah,” Matthias says. Yawns.

“Seriously, just go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” Matthias grumbles. “You actually need it.”

Casey must be tired and this is not a flight to San Diego that’s over in the blink of an eye. It’ll be hours before they land in Vegas.

“Come on,” Matthias says.

“I’ve tried, okay?” Casey says. “And I can’t. It won’t happen. Ollie once made me listen to this weird meditation music and all it did was piss me off. I can’t sleep on the plane. It’s fine.”

Matthias shifts, knocks his shoulder against Casey’s. “What if I personally make sure that the plane doesn’t go down?”

Casey leans close. “We both know you can’t do a fucking thing if the plane goes down.”

“Okay, but in that case, isn’t it actually better to be asleep when we all die?”

Casey laughs under his breath. “Maybe.”

“Close your eyes.” Matthias taps his shoulder. “Give it a try.”

“It’s not going to work,” Casey says, but scoots down and leans his head against Matthias’s shoulder.

Matthias doesn’t take Casey’s hand again. He knows better than that, but he nudges his thigh against Casey’s and Casey doesn’t pull away, so Matthias doesn’t move either. He reaches up to turn off the light overhead and Casey quietly grumbles at him. It’s dark except for the emergency lights, it’s quiet except for the hum of the plane. No bumps tonight.

After a few minutes, when Casey hasn’t complained yet, Matthias leans his head against Casey’s and closes his eyes, too. He’s not exactly overworked, but he still falls asleep within minutes. It’s late and what else is he supposed to do on a flight this long?

He wakes up a few times, when Casey moves, when someone comes down the aisle to go to the bathroom, and finally when the fasten seatbelt sign comes on again.

Casey sits upright when Matthias does, rubbing his eyes as he looks around. Most of the guys haven’t stirred. Matthias looks at Oliver through the gaps between seats. He’s still dead to the world, but someone’s going to come by to tell him to put on his seatbelt soon.

“Did you sleep?” Matthias asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Casey, bleary-eyed, only glares at him, because it would kill him to admit that he slept on a flight for the first time in his life, even though he was trying so hard to convince Matthias that he never could.

Oliver eventually sits up, groaning when he puts on his seatbelt. “Fuck,” he says. “Were you guys up watching movies for the entire flight?”

“Nope,” Matthias says.

Oliver’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Took the worst nap of my life,” Casey grumbles.

“You slept on the plane?” Oliver says. “What in the absolute fuck.”

Matthias grins, pleased with himself.

“Don’t do that,” Casey says. “It was a fluke. I was really tired and it had nothing at all to do with you. We both know you can’t keep the plane from crashing.”

Matthias doesn’t argue with him, he just keeps being pleased with himself.

He drives them home: first Casey, then Oliver.

Before Oliver gets out of the car, he shoots Matthias a look that’s probably supposed to say something, but Matthias doesn’t understand, because it’s either really late or really early, depending on how you look at it.

“What?” Matthias asks.

“I’m guessing you haven’t talked to him yet?”

Matthias doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to incriminate himself, but Oliver clearly already knows what happened. Either Casey told him or he somehow figured it out. Matthias doesn’t really care, he’s fine with Oliver knowing, but he doesn’t want to talk about it, because there’s nothing to talk about. It was one time.

Matthias is very well aware that he can only say “It was one time” so many times before he has to admit that he’s kidding himself, but for now that’s what it is.

“That’s a no. Okay.” Oliver nods. “You do you.”

“Don’t you think right now is a terrible time to talk to him about this anyway?” Matthias says. “We have games to play.”

“Out of all the people I know, Casey is probably one of the very few people who are capable of playing a stellar hockey game while feeling all of their feelings, but maybe you do have a point,” Oliver says. “I just… I know him and I know you and I see that there’s something there, you know? And you’re a good guy. Most of the time. When you’re not a little shit. I want that for him. He deserves someone he’s at ease with. So at ease that he falls asleep on the plane.”

“I don’t think he actually wants that.”

“Look, it’s none of my business. I’m not gonna tell you what he does or doesn’t want,” Oliver says. “But Casey’s really good at pushing people away. He sometimes does it without meaning or even wanting to.”

“I just want to respect his wishes,” Matthias says.

“And I’m saying, maybe don’t,” Oliver replies and gives Matthias’s thigh a pat before he gets out of the car.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

MATTHIAS SPENDS HIS day off on the couch and orders takeout. A lot of it. He calls his mom while she packs. He’ll pick her up at the airport tomorrow afternoon, once practice is over.

The locker room is buzzing the next morning. Someone’s playing “Barbie Girl” over the speakers.

Coach keeps the practice light—the guys are tired and a lot of them are injured or have at the very least tweaked something. Oliver’s been complaining about his wrist. Nothing serious, nothing that won’t heal when he finally gets to rest it. One way or another, he will get to rest it soon.

It’s really nobody’s fault that a puck hits Sid’s skate and that Sid wipes out over by the net and falls into Casey, who then falls into the net. It’s an entirely unfortunate series of circumstances that could have gone one way or the other. The puck could have passed Sid, could have not hit his skate, and Sid could have fallen over the other way, could have just landed on his ass and maybe he would have been a little butt-hurt about it, but that would have been it.

That’s not it.

Casey falls against the pipes. And sometimes that’s not a big deal either. You just walk away with a bruise. Matthias has walked away with a lot of bruises.

Matthias wishes he could see from the other side of the ice, but a bunch of the guys immediately crowd around Casey, so he can’t tell how bad it is. Funnily enough, his first thought is that Casey will be so fucking bitchy if that’s the reason he has to sit out a game. Then Matthias realizes which game that would be.

Round 4, Game 6. On home ice. With the Vipers miraculously up in the series 3–2 and the Cup in the building. Game of a lifetime.

Matthias leaves his net because no one’s taking shots at him anymore anyway. They’re all too distracted by what’s going on across the ice. By the time Matthias gets there, Casey has already gotten up and is snapping at people, which is a good sign. If Casey wasn’t snappy, Matthias might actually be worried.

Coach sends Casey off the ice to get checked out, Casey tells everyone he’s fine. Grumpily. Yeah, he’s probably okay.

Matthias doesn’t like the way Coach is eyeing him right now.

“Um,” Matthias says.

“We’ll see how he’s feeling tomorrow,” Coach says. He gives Matthias a poke. “No funny business now.”

Matthias turns to Sid, who’s not mad, exactly, but he’s not looking very Sid-like right now. He fell, too, but he got right back up. “You okay?” Matthias asks, just to be sure.

Sid only nods, which is also not very Sid-like.

Matthias doesn’t pry because Sid is standing up straight and not screaming in pain. He just hopes Sid will go get checked out, too. Mikko has zeroed in on Sid as well, so he’ll make him. Matthias can skate away and be very calm, cool, and collected about all of this.

They’ll see how Casey is feeling tomorrow. That’s what Coach said, that’s what Matthias has to go with. If he has to go in, he has to go in.

Matthias takes a deep breath. It doesn’t help.

They finish their drill, then most of them head off the ice. Casey isn’t in the room. He’s probably still being evaluated.

Oliver is fidgety.

“He’ll be fine,” Jannik says. You just know it’s not really fine when Jannik decides to get involved.

“Well, hopefully,” Oliver replies, eyeing Matthias. “I mean, I guess it would be great for you if you got to go in and I’m not saying you can’t do it, seriously, don’t get me wrong here—”

“No, I get it,” Matthias says. Nobody needs this kind of distraction right now. He’s glad he doesn’t have to talk to the media after practice, because he’s not sure he could deal with anyone asking him about Casey or the Grizzlies or maybe having to go in tomorrow.

He doesn’t get a chance to talk to Casey before he has to head to the airport to pick up his mom. She hugs him for a solid five minutes before they head back to his place. His mom tuts at the mess that Matthias hasn’t had time to clean up, while she unpacks all the chocolate she brought for him.

He takes her out for dinner.

He holds off on texting Casey.

If there was any news, Casey would have—Casey would have done nothing, but Matthias assumes that there won’t be anything to tell today anyway. His mom, jet-lagged, goes to bed right after dinner, which leaves Matthias in front of the TV with his silent phone.

He ends up texting Oliver—have you heard from Casey?

Oliver

just ask him urself ffs

Matthias wasn’t going to, but Oliver won’t tell him anything, so he doesn’t have much of a choice. Oliver does send Matthias a picture of Minnie, who’s napping on a foot that isn’t Oliver’s. It’s Casey’s. And, yes, Matthias hates that he can tell, but he doesn’t know anyone else who wears striped socks. So Casey is at Oliver’s place, hanging out with Oliver and his moms and Minnie. And Oliver is making Matthias text Casey, even though he’s sitting right next to him.

With a sigh, Matthias asks Casey how he’s doing. He changes the text four times to make it sound as neutral as possible.

Casey’s reply comes almost immediately, like he was expecting Matthias’s text. Oliver must have told him.

Casey

we’ll see

Casey

I know that’s not what you wanted to hear

Casey

just don’t have anything more definitive to say right now

When Matthias goes to bed, he stares at the ceiling for a little while, waiting for the panic, for the jitters, for the queasy stomach, but they don’t come. Not really. He feels it, but it’s turned down, like music playing in another room.

He falls asleep faster than he thought he would and he doesn’t even wake up when his mom starts puttering about the kitchen. When he gets up, she tells him she’s been up since five. She’s made a fruit salad and French toast and coffee. Her coffee is somehow always better than his, both here and back home.

“I saw some speculation about your teammate,” his mom says as she hands him the milk and the sugar.

“I… yeah. It’s probably not true,” Matthias says, trying to give her a smile. “Sid bumped into him during practice yesterday, but he seemed mostly okay, so I’m pretty sure he’s playing.”

His mom reaches out to give his arm a squeeze. “I’m sorry, it would have been fun if you’d gotten to play.”

“Sure, but…” Matthias shrugs. “I got to play during the playoffs and most backups don’t even get to do that, so I really just hope we’ll win tonight, even if I end up sitting on the bench.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” his mom says. “I would have loved to be here.”

“Well, there’s always next season,” Matthias says. Who knows, next season he might be the starter for some other team and his mom can come by and see him play whenever. Maybe she could even bring Matthias’s grandparents. They’ve seen him play before, but he was the farm team’s starter back then. Maybe his grandpa will be feeling better in a few months.

Although Matthias obviously doesn’t know where he’ll be next season. Maybe he’ll still be here because no one else offered him a contract. It’s unlikely, but Matthias told his agent that he doesn’t want to talk to anyone until the playoffs are over, so he has no idea if anyone’s even interested.

He takes his mom to morning skate and she sits with Oliver’s moms and some of the other relatives that have come for the game. Bolt’s little nieces have made him a sign. It’s very sparkly. But the only thing on Matthias’s mind is Casey.

Who is in the locker room, getting his gear on.

Matthias raises his eyebrows at him.

Casey nods. Good to go, then.

They hit the ice together before the rest of the guys come out, and stretch by the net in the back. Matthias ignores the fans as best as he can. The stands are packed.

“Are you sad or relieved?” Casey asks after a moment. “I can’t tell.”

Matthias takes a minute to think about it. He’s not sure. Both? Neither? “It’s your game, you should be in net,” he says eventually. “But… I think if it had come down to it, and you couldn’t have played, I could have done it. I could have won it.”

That’s why he slept like a baby last night, that’s why the jitters were there but not overwhelming. He knew he would have been good enough to win this game if it had been him in goal. He has no idea why he was so certain all of a sudden, but he believed it. Still believes it.

He doesn’t just want to be a starter, he is one. Maybe not right now, maybe not on this team, but he has what it takes and he went to bed understanding that last night.

Casey smiles. “Yeah, true.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” Matthias mutters.

“I’m not being nice.” Casey rolls his eyes. “Just stating the facts.”

Before Matthias can reply, their goalie coach joins them with Linus in tow and they’re busy from there on out. Matthias can’t let his head get too big about this—he’s not even playing. Casey doesn’t throw around meaningless compliments, though.

Matthias waves at his mom before he heads back to the room. This is the only time she’ll see him on the ice this time around, other than warm-ups. In the room, Casey tells the media that he’s ready to go, says he wouldn’t have been worried about tonight, even if Matthias had been in goal. “Mattie would have had it,” Casey says. He means it, just like before.

And Matthias doesn’t let his head get too big about that either.

He’s about to go get his mom before she can go too wild in the team store when Casey catches up with him in the hallway and pulls him aside.

“Hey, Mattie,” Casey says, “are Ollie’s moms giving your mom a ride to the game?”

“Ollie offered, so I’m pretty sure they will,” Matthias says. His mom doesn’t like driving in America, so Matthias was going to call her a cab, but this is better.

Casey nods. “Can you come to mine before the game, then?”

Matthias raises his eyebrows at him. Because. Why.

“You can give me a ride?” Casey goes on.

Matthias frowns. Why would Casey, with his two cars, need a ride to the arena? He doesn’t look nervous.

Casey purses his lips. “Don’t make me say please.”

“I’d really enjoy making you say please, though,” Matthias says and doesn’t realize how that sounded until it’s out of his mouth and it’s too late to take it back.

Casey blinks at him.

“That’s not—”

“Yeah.” Casey shakes his head. “Wow. You actually had me speechless for a second there.”

“I’ll come pick you up,” Matthias says quickly, hoping that’ll release him from this situation. He’s pretty sure he’ll die from embarrassment if he doesn’t get to walk away in the next twenty seconds.

Casey seems to be happy with that because he nods and retreats back to the room.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

MATTHIAS HAS NO idea why Casey would possibly want him to come over, but since he doesn’t come out of his house when Matthias shows up to give him a ride, he gets out of the car and rings the doorbell.

Casey lets him in a second later, like he was waiting for him behind the door.

“What is going on?” Matthias asks.

Casey shuffles his feet, his eyes on Matthias. Matthias’s lips, to be exact.

Oh. He knows where this is going.

“Really?” Matthias asks.

“It worked last time,” Casey says gruffly.

“Fine…” Matthias grabs Casey by his shirt and pulls him into a kiss. He could have gone for a quick close-lipped kiss, but Casey literally asked him to do this. He had him come over here just for some ridiculous pregame ritual that he made up between Games 5 and 6.

So Matthias will have a good time. Sue him. There will be tongue. And hair-pulling. Ass-grabbing.

Casey’s breath hitches. Matthias grabs the back of Casey’s dress shirt. He’ll put on his suit jacket and no one will see how wrinkled it is. This is nothing like the last time. Last time they kissed for a bit and went to sleep.

This time, Casey pushes at him until Matthias is flush against the wall, Casey’s hands at his sides. Under the jacket, thankfully, so no one will see.

Matthias honestly isn’t capable of thinking about much right now, but one teeny, tiny thought sneaks in. If the Grizzlies force a Game 7, they will kiss one more time. He would never, ever hope for a Game 7 in this scenario, but he wouldn’t mind doing this again. He seriously hopes he didn’t just jinx his entire team.

Matthias keeps his head in the game. Well. He keeps his head on the bench.

Casey got scored on early, but he shook it off as best he could. The Grizzlies aren’t just going to go away, they’re going to fight until the bitter end. Theoretically, Matthias knew that, but it’s something else to watch it happen.

Mikko and the Grizzlies’ captain start arguing during the first TV time-out, but Matthias is on the wrong end of the bench and only hears Mikko’s grumbling once he scoots down the bench.

They don’t manage to tie it up before the first intermission and Oliver gets into a bit of a push-and-shove situation after the whistle that has him heading down the tunnel with a bloody lip.

“You okay?” Matthias asks. He grabs an ice pack, but Oliver won’t take it.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Oliver says.

“Who?”

“All of them, actually.”

“You know that murder is illegal, right?” Matthias says and tries to hand Oliver the ice pack again.

“Not during the playoffs,” Oliver replies. At least he finally takes the ice pack.

He doesn’t kill anyone, probably because he scores and ties up the game and is, at least temporarily, too busy celebrating to think about murder.

That goal aside, the second period is absolutely excruciating. No one else scores, but the Vipers walk away with half a dozen almosts where the puck just won’t go in for them, bounces off sticks, off the pipes, off the Grizzlies’ goalie’s mask and down the back of the net.

The third starts with more of the same. Sid sets Oliver up on what could have been the most beautiful goal of the playoffs, but it rebounds and the Vipers have to chase it down again. From where Matthias is sitting that one looked like it went in and a collective groan goes through the arena when the whistle doesn’t go.

The game goes on, but the coaches are twitchy. They aren’t usually—unless something is wrong.

The guys have started whispering down the bench.

It has already dawned on Matthias that maybe that puck did go in when one of the refs finally blows his whistle. They make the announcement. They gather in their little referee huddle. On the jumbotron, they show the play again and, yep, there it is. The puck flies into the goal and immediately bounces out again, so fast that it was easy to miss. Could have been just a normal rebound, business as usual.

But that one was definitely in. They have to give them that goal.

The entire Vipers bench is on their feet, the arena growing louder around them as the puck goes into the net again in slow motion up on the jumbotron. Bolt, standing next to Matthias, is clinging to him for dear life.

“Please, please, please, please, please,” Bolt is whispering, his fingers tightening when one of the refs makes for his spot on the center line.

“After video review, it has been determined that the puck completely crossed the goal line—”

Matthias doesn’t hear the rest because the crowd around him goes wild, but he sees the ref signal a good goal. They reset the clock. The game goes on. The Grizzlies don’t complain, because that puck was in all the way, no doubt about it.

Matthias is sweating like he just played for two periods.

The game has started up again and the crowd is louder than Matthias has ever heard it. He had no idea they could be this loud. He had no idea they could be even louder, too, but by the time the clock starts to run down in the third period, with the score unchanged from the 2–1 that’s been up there since they reviewed that goal, Matthias can barely hear himself think anymore.

Another minute and sixteen seconds and that’s going to be their game winner. Another minute and sixteen seconds and the Cup is theirs.

If the Grizzlies don’t score.

And the Grizzlies are fighting tooth and nail, throwing in some thinly-veiled attempted murder, but when Sid returns to the bench, rubbing his shoulder, the score hasn’t changed and they only have forty seconds to go.

No one’s sitting down anymore. Everyone around him is screaming. Matthias wants to scream, too, but he can’t make a sound. He’s watching Casey, who’s fighting for his life, blocking shot after shot, focused for every second.

Matthias has never felt like this—not after his first win, not after his first shutout, not after they made it through the first round. And he’s not even on the ice right now. That doesn’t matter, though. He’s not alone on the bench. Only six of the guys are out there and the rest of them are here with him while the clock runs down. Doesn’t matter who’s on the ice, in the end they’re all going to win. He did his part. When they put his name on the Cup, he won’t think about sitting on the bench, not even for a second.

The final horn goes and, in retrospect, Matthias doesn’t even know how to describe it. Essentially, a whole bunch of stuff goes flying. Gloves. Helmets. Sticks. People. Sort of, at least. Two guys jump into Matthias’s arms, Sid tries to get on the ice so fast that he gets caught and drops straight onto the ice. Oliver has to pick him up.

Matthias takes the door because he just knows Sid will be all over the internet in about two minutes and he’d rather not join him there. That means Matthias arrives late to the party and sort of just bounces into the huddle his teammates are in, all of them screaming. Matthias is screaming now, too. He’s pretty sure he’s been screaming this whole time.

It’s all a bit of a blur, he can’t even tell who’s hugging him, who’s patting his head, who’s yelling “Fuck yeah, we did it!” into his ear.

Casey fights his way through the huddle and throws his arms around Matthias. “I’m gonna hand it to you,” he says. He may as well have said I love you, or at least that’s what it feels like to Matthias. Definitely not what Casey is trying to say. He’s saying Matthias did his part well.

They bring the Cup out and they skate their rounds with it, one after the other. When it’s Casey’s turn, Matthias is still a little surprised when Casey comes up to him and hands it over, the guys around them cheering.

The arena is buzzing. Even some of the Grizzlies’ fans who’ve made the trip from Boston have stuck around. Matthias beams at his mom, who is standing with the other guys’ families. She has her phone in hand and is probably about to send a bunch of videos and photos to his grandparents, who said they’d stay up to watch the game.

Matthias hands the Cup to Bolt, who takes off with a shout.

They take the party from the ice to the locker room to a club close to the arena. Within two hours, Oliver is hugging everyone he can find, Bolt is in a booth with his friend Maritza and they’re making out like there’s no tomorrow, and Matthias is in a corner with Casey. Not talking. Just standing next to him, so close that his arm is pressed against Casey’s. Mikko is having a dance-off with Sid. At least five of the guys are filming it.

They’ll have their parade, and probably a goodbye party at Coop’s before they all leave town, but chances are that the next time Matthias sees them, they won’t be his teammates anymore.

He tips his head against Casey’s shoulder. Casey twitches, but doesn’t shake him off.

Matthias is going to miss these guys so much. He only had a year in Vegas, but the Vipers were his family from the start. Even Casey. Even when he was still pretending to hate him. Matthias takes a sip of his drink, although what he really wants to do is take Casey’s hand.

He has to keep himself here, in the present. He can’t think about tomorrow, or about free agency, or the next season. Leaving is going to hurt. It already does.

He downs his drink. Gives Casey a nudge. “Wanna go dance?”

“No,” Casey says, but finishes off his drink as well and tugs Matthias towards the dance floor.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

“OH MY FUCKING baby Jesus.”

Matthias groans.

Someone else groans next to his ear.

“Ugh.” Matthias has never been this hungover in his life. He’s not kidding. He’s so extremely close to death. He shifts and bumps into someone on his right. He shifts again and bumps into someone on his left. That’s weird. “What—”

“Please stop moving. I’m gonna throw up on you,” Oliver says on his left.

Matthias squints at him. Oliver is squinting back. He’s got a crease on his face from the pillow. Behind Oliver is a second bed. Empty. They’re in a room at the New York, New York hotel. Matthias shared a room exactly like this one with Heartsy last summer.

Matthias slowly turns his head to see who’s on his right, even though he already knows. Casey still has his eyes closed, doesn’t look like he’s keen on getting up.

Matthias turns back to Oliver. “Why didn’t we just go home?”

“You wanted to sleep immediately,” Oliver says.

Matthias has no recollection of wanting to sleep immediately, but it does sound like him. “Okay.”

“Casey didn’t want to leave you alone,” Oliver goes on. “And some of the guys thought it was a really good idea to go to sleep immediately, so we got a bunch of rooms.”

“I don’t remember that,” Matthias says. He does remember dancing with Casey, getting more drinks with Oliver. It’s all a blur of lights and music.

Oliver moves to grab his phone, which ended up between them on the bed. He unlocks it and drops it on his forehead. “Shit.”

Matthias laughs and regrets it instantly.

“Okay, so…” Oliver frowns at his phone. “Apparently we’re having breakfast with everyone who stayed here. Media in the afternoon. And then we’re going to Coop’s.”

“When do we get to sleep?” Casey mumbles.

“Never,” Oliver replies.

Casey mumbles something else and turns onto his stomach, face buried in a pillow.

“Can you breathe?” Matthias asks.

Casey doesn’t reply.

“I should tell my mom that I’m still alive,” Matthias says.

“You called her last night to tell her you’re not coming home. You didn’t want her to worry,” Oliver says as he types. “It was really cute.”

Matthias still shoots his mom a quick text, then he turns back to Oliver, who’s busy typing. “Are you writing a novel?”

“I’m texting Marcus, shut up.”

When he’s done, Matthias asks, “So, are we going home to change before breakfast or…?”

“Nah, don’t think so,” Oliver says, sounding delighted.

“Seriously?” Matthias is wearing a tequila-soaked shirt from last night. Although, they’re in Vegas, so no one will even blink at them. “Fine.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower, though,” Oliver says and slides out of bed.

Matthias isn’t entirely sure how much good it’ll do, but it’s better than nothing and that gives him another ten minutes to take a little nap. Or that’s what he thinks until Oliver starts singing Carly Rae Jepsen in the shower.

“He’s good,” Matthias says.

“Yeah,” Casey croaks.

Matthias jumps. “Fuck, I thought you’d gone back to sleep.”

“Then who were you talking to?”

Matthias gives him a halfhearted swat. “I’m going back to sleep until Ollie’s done.”

Casey makes a small noise and shifts, just a little, just enough that Matthias can feel him next to him.

“Oliver’s going to be back in like two minutes,” Matthias says.

“Nah, he hasn’t even gotten to ‘Cut to the Feeling’ yet.”

Matthias doesn’t hear the shower shut off. He’s already fast asleep, with Casey tucked against him at the edge of the bed, because Matthias is still right in the middle.

By the time he wakes up, Casey has slung his arm around his waist and is breathing against Matthias’s neck. It’s quiet. Matthias props himself up and Casey’s hand slides down a little. The door to the bathroom is wide open. Two pairs of shoes remain on the floor.

“Where’s Ollie?” Matthias asks.

Casey doesn’t reply. Because Casey is sleeping.

Matthias finds his phone on the nightstand on the side Oliver was sleeping on, so he reaches out to grab it. That wakes Casey up, too, but they probably need to get out of this hotel room soon anyway.

He finds approximately five thousand texts on his phone, including several from Oliver. He opens those first.

Oliver

didn’t want to wake u up, you looked so cute

Oliver

in case you forgot….. we paid for late checkout

Oliver

I’m at denny’s with sid and theresa they’re the only ones who are awake lmao

“They went to Denny’s?” Matthias says and pulls a face.

Next to him, Casey stretches. “Mm, bacon.”

“Where’s the closest one?”

“Across the street,” Casey says.

Matthias flops back down. “Ugh, I don’t wanna get up.”

“We paid for late checkout,” Casey says. He’s on his side, looking at Matthias. He’s got a little scratch on his chin from last night. Not from the game, from the celebration. “I guess you can have five more minutes.”

“How generous,” Matthias says.

Casey’s lips twitch the tiniest bit.

Matthias leans in to kiss him. Maybe he’s still drunk. He must be. But Casey kisses him back, grabs him to pull him closer, even though they’re pretty much flush against each other already. So it doesn’t matter. They won the Cup. They’re celebrating.

Casey stops after a moment, searches Matthias’s face. “I don’t believe in jinxes,” he finally says.

“What?”

Casey sighs. “I… don’t… believe in jinxes.”

He just said that, didn’t he? Matthias has no idea what he—Oh. He doesn’t believe in jinxes. “And I’m guessing you didn’t suddenly start believing in them before the game last night.”

“Not really,” Casey says.

He asked Matthias to come over and kiss him just because. That’s what he’s saying, right? He doesn’t believe in jinxes. He doesn’t believe that kissing someone before a game will change the outcome, like some of the guys believe that they have to put on their left skate first.

“Hm,” Matthias says.

“Hm,” is Casey’s reply.

Matthias stares. Unfortunately, Casey’s poker face remains unbeaten. For now. Matthias keeps staring. Wills Casey to say more than that. They’ve got all the time in the world. They paid for late checkout.

So he waits and watches the poker face slowly melt away.

Casey swallows.

Matthias resists the urge to kiss him again. He wants Casey to tell him. He wants him to use his words. Casey is very much capable, Matthias knows that all too well. He had no problem whatsoever telling Matthias that he didn’t want any distractions.

Now the playoffs are over and now they’re looking at the shortest summer of their careers. Free agency is a heartbeat away. Maybe Matthias should kiss him. If he doesn’t give Casey the chance to say anything, it’ll be so much easier to leave in the end.

Before he can make a decision, Casey breaks the quiet. “I think I’m in love with you.”

He thinks. Like he doesn’t know what love feels like and has to wrap his head around it first. Matthias could tell him what it feels like because he’s been feeling it for weeks. Like someone wrapped a warm blanket around him and kissed his forehead and then dropped an anvil on his head right after.

“You honestly couldn’t have picked a worse time to tell me that,” Matthias says. But he did want to hear it, didn’t he? And now he has to deal with knowing it.

“I’m not asking you to feel the same or anything,” Casey says, matter-of-factly.

“I’m not staying,” Matthias says. He’s more sure of it than he ever was before. He’s going to be a starter next season, but not here. Matthias won’t stay in Vegas for Casey. He can’t.

“I’m aware,” Casey replies. “That doesn’t really change that I’m in love with you, though.”

“Jesus, fuck, Casey,” Matthias says and sits up. He can’t look at him anymore.

“Yeah, I guess I deserve that.”

“You do. You absolutely do.” Matthias gets out of bed and grabs his shoes off the floor. He can’t stay here. This room, that is. He’d leave the city, too, if he could, but they won’t let him until the parade’s over and done with. “I gotta—I’m sorry. I gotta go.”

“Yep. Deserve that, too,” Casey says, resigned.

That almost convinces Matthias to stay. “You do,” he says. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“A lot of things, actually.”

Matthias brushes his hair back and checks his pockets for a hair tie with no luck. “I’m too hungover for this. So are you, let’s be real.”

Casey covers his face with his hand. “You’re probably right about that. Yeah. I’ll… we’ll talk some other time.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

It feels wrong to walk away, but Casey doesn’t say anything else, and Matthias’s brain is too foggy to form another coherent sentence, so he orders a ride and goes home and lets his mom give him a hug and laugh at him for being this hungover.

He takes a quick nap, because being unconscious is better than having to think about what Casey said to him. He takes a shower and heads to the rink to join the rest of the guys.

Casey’s there.

They don’t say a word to each other.

“Where have you been?” Oliver asks as he pulls Matthias aside.

“Sleeping,” Matthias says.

“Casey said you went home.”

“Yeah. So I could sleep.”

Oliver heaves a sigh. “What did he do?”

“You should ask him,” Matthias says. Oliver already knows everything there is to know, but this feels like the sort of thing Casey should tell him.

“Oh, I did,” Oliver says, scrunching up his nose. “And then he looked sad. The day after we won the Cup. Like, what the fuck? He said it was totally his fault, though, which doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Matthias bites his bottom lip.

“Let me guess. He tried to talk about his feelings, which I know he’s terrible at, and he said something dumb and then you didn’t want to deal with it, because you’re bad at dealing with shit head-on. How am I doing so far?”

“I was hungover.”

“Yeah. Maybe Casey should have thought about that before he made a total ass of himself,” Oliver says. He gives Matthias a pat on the back. “Hey, put that face away. We’re happy today.”

Matthias would love to put his personal shit aside and be happy. He may have even managed, but then Oliver told him that Casey looked sad, and shit, that’s totally Matthias’s fault. Casey told him he was in love with him and what did he do?

He walked away, like a grade-A douchebag.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

OBVIOUSLY, CASEY DOESN’T give him a chance to apologize. That would be too easy.

It’s not like Matthias can talk to him while the guys are around. When you win the Cup, you’re around the guys 24/7. The Cup and the guys, for a week at least. Maybe longer. Eventually, they’ll go home, they’ll plan their Cup days, but then it’ll be too late.

That means Matthias has to catch Casey while he’s alone. At home. And he totally has a plan, which unfortunately requires him to crawl out of bed early as fuck, but by the time he pulls up to Casey’s house, he’s reasonably happy with what he came up with.

It’s risky to ring Casey’s doorbell before noon and when Casey comes shuffling to the door, it’s clear he crawled out of bed seconds before, his hair sticking up, shirt wrinkled.

“Hi,” Matthias says tentatively. He’s half expecting Casey to slam the door shut.

Instead, Casey wordlessly lets him in.

“I brought you something.” Matthias holds up the nine cake pops he had to go to three bakeries for. He wanted to get a bunch of different ones, so he could put them together like a bouquet.

Casey’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I’m sorry,” Matthias says and tries to hand them over, but Casey doesn’t take them. “You told me you loved me and I just walked away and, to be honest, that’s a shitty fucking thing to do and we’ve spent way too much time not talking to each other. It’s been a year, can we maybe grow up and just talk it out?”

Casey, that little fucker, laughs. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not that good at talking things out.”

Matthias thrusts the cake pops at him. “Take these,” he says. They don’t have all day. Mikko’s hosting a barbecue with the Cup at noon.

Casey does take the cake pops from him. He pulls a pink one from the middle and takes a bite. “You wanna… sit down?”

Matthias nods and leads the way into the living room. Casey takes a detour and grabs an actual vase for the cake pops. Then he sits on one side of the couch, and Matthias sits on the other, wondering where to start.

He starts with a certainty. “I’m not coming back next season.”

“You said that,” Casey says. “And I don’t have expectations or anything. I know how good you are. The Seals are gonna be so lucky to have you. We can’t pay you, that’s for sure, not after the season you just had.”

“I don’t know if it’s gonna be the Seals,” Matthias says, although there’s a good chance that it’s going to be the Seals. His agent has been talking to them.

“Uh-huh,” Casey replies.

“I mean, San Diego isn’t that far away.” It’s nearly a six-hour drive. It’s really fucking far. Matthias looked it up and it’s not the kind of trip you make on a day off.

“Right, you could sign in Canada or something.”

“I don’t think anyone in Canada is interested. They’ve all got goalies. Point is, I’m not gonna be here.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I get it. You don’t have to explain it or anything. I don’t even know why I told you. It’s all Ollie’s fault, you know? He kept saying I’d regret it if I let you leave without telling you and maybe he was right about it, but I also regret telling you, so…”

“I’m glad you told me,” Matthias says. His fingertips are sweaty. Actually, his entire body is sweaty. He breathes. In and out. His heart is hammering in his chest. “Look, I’m not trying to blow you off or anything.”

“You’re telling me you’re about to leave town, but you’re not trying to blow me off?”

“If we’re on the same team and we’re dating, that’ll totally go wrong,” Matthias says. “Probably in five different ways. At least.”

Casey folds his arms across his chest and leans back. “So, what, you wanna do long distance?”

“No,” Matthias says. Although. Yes. Maybe. Eventually. “I want to go out on a date.”

Casey stares.

“I want to take you to a nice restaurant for dinner and I want to drive you home after and maybe kiss you and—”

“Rip my clothes off?”

Matthias smiles. “Only if you ask me to.”

“I probably will,” Casey says. He’s not exactly smiling, but he also doesn’t look like he’s about to kick Matthias’s ass out the door.

“So are you saying yes to the date?”

“Sure. And then what?”

“If it doesn’t go terribly, maybe we can go out on another date. And then, we could go out on an—”

“Yeah, okay, I get where it’s going, thanks,” Casey says.

“So?”

“What?”

“Does that sound like something you might wanna try?”

“I’ve never… I mean. Yeah.” Casey tugs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never really dated anyone, you know? There were guys who stuck around longer than others, but I don’t know if I’m a relationship kind of guy.”

“Well, I guess this is how you’ll find out,” Matthias says. “This is how it works for… most people, I guess.”

“We’re not most people.”

“I know. But, wherever I end up, I still have the house until the end of July. I could stick around.”

“I guess I, uh, could get away with staying for most of the summer,” Casey says. He sure loves an excuse to not go home. “Where do you wanna go for that date, then?”

Matthias shrugs. “Hey, have you ever been to a Stanley Cup parade?”

Casey’s smile is lopsided. “Wanna ride on the same truck?”

“I think they said they were getting buses.”

“Whatever,” Casey says.

“Although, my mom’s gonna be here for the parade, so maybe the part where we take our clothes off has to wait.” Matthias shakes his head. “Whatever. We can work out the logistics when we get there. But I think that’s a good place to start.”

“The parade?”

“A date.”

Casey leans forward, closer to Matthias. “It’s possible that I’m really, really terrible at dating.”

“I’m aware. I won’t hold it against you.”

“Okay.” Casey shifts. Closer again. “I do have one condition.”

“What?”

“You have to make the Seals pay you at least four million a year.”

“That’s a lot of money, Casey.”

“At least.”

“You understand that I’m not gonna be the one who negotiates that deal, right?”

“Do not take a cent less,” Casey says. “Tell your agent.”

Matthias rolls his eyes and scoots closer to kiss him, because that’s the only way to shut him up.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

“THEY’RE LATE.”

Matthias makes an affirmative noise. Refuses to check his phone. “We could just go in.”

“No, I told Ollie we’d wait for him outside.”

Matthias leans back against the wall while Marcus stands in the middle of the sidewalk, on the lookout for Oliver and Casey. “It’s the preseason, they’re probably not used to being in a certain place at a certain time yet.”

Marcus makes a face like someone kicked him.

“They’ll be here in five minutes, you’ll see.”

“Ollie’s never late.”

“Oh, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that it’s Casey’s fault,” Matthias says. He probably took a nap and overslept. Casey called him at midnight last night to complain about the Vipers’ new backup and the only reason Matthias didn’t hang up on him was because it was kind of hilarious. Also, he had to force Casey to be nice to the kid. Because the new backup is Linus and Matthias wants him to not hate his first NHL season.

They both stayed up late and Casey said it didn’t matter because it was only the preseason anyway. He’s not even playing tomorrow. Matthias is, though—not every preseason game, but a few, so he’ll get used to the guys.

The Seals have solid defense, which is good for him, and the guys have been really helpful ever since he got here. Marcus even helped him find an apartment during the summer. They live in the same building now. Marcus has a tendency to show up unannounced, but Matthias can live with that.

Matthias has a tendency to show up unannounced as well, so they were best friend material from the start.

Marcus bounces on the balls of his feet. “Do you think they forgot?”

“They definitely didn’t forget.”

“Maybe they—oh, there they are.”

Oliver and Casey have just turned the corner. They’re staying at the same hotel they always are. When they’ve almost made it to the restaurant, Oliver starts running.

“San Diego Seals starting goaltender Matthias Brandl,” he shouts and jumps into Matthias’s arms.

“Hey, why don’t you say that again but louder, so even more people will stare at us?” Casey mutters and gives Matthias a pat on the back before he makes for the door.

Oliver lets go of Matthias to give Marcus a hug. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Marcus says, face going red.

“Get a room,” Matthias whispers and follows Casey inside.

Marcus called ahead to reserve a table upstairs. They weren’t exactly planning on going on a double date, but Oliver wanted to get fajitas, and he wanted to get fajitas with Marcus, but he also wanted to see Matthias, but Matthias wasn’t going to be a third wheel at their fajita date. Anyway, he also wanted to see Casey.

He scoots onto the bench next to him and Casey gives his hand a squeeze under the table. They’ll say hello properly once they’re back at Matthias’s apartment. Casey lets go of his hand and puts it on his thigh instead.

“Someone’s gonna see,” Matthias says, even though there are only two other people up here with them right now and it’s Oliver and Marcus, who are busy staring deeply into each other’s eyes. They came here before the dinner rush so they could do just that in peace.

“Which is why we should have just ordered food and eaten at your place,” Casey mutters.

“We’ll be at my place in less than two hours, calm down.”

Casey lets go of Matthias’s thigh and takes the menu.

Matthias nudges his shoulder. “It’s really cute that you missed me so much.” He missed Casey, too, even though they saw each other right before training camp started. Even though they talk on the phone, even though Casey texts him to say good night every day, because he always goes to bed before Matthias.

“Never said I missed you,” Casey says.

“I still can’t tell if they actually like each other,” Marcus says across the table.

Valid. Marcus comes over to tell him about all the cute shit Oliver said to him while Matthias tells him about all the ways he and Casey have been chirping each other via text.

Oliver laughs. “Yeah. They’re… like that. You’ll get used to it.”

Matthias reaches out to pat Casey’s cheek. “See, we’re totally nice to each other.”

“Honestly, I can’t wait for you guys to play against each other,” Oliver says. “I fully expect a goalie fight. I’m so pissed that Case isn’t playing tomorrow.”

“You want them to fight?” Marcus whispers.

“Oh, I’ll fight him, no problem,” Casey says, grinning at Matthias.

“I’ll kill you,” Matthias replies and grins back at him. Casey would never fight him. Well, maybe he’d fight him a little, but during games Casey is so in the zone that a proper fight just isn’t on the agenda.

“You can fight Linus tomorrow,” Casey says.

“I would never,” Matthias says. Poor Linus would cry if anyone tried to fight him. He nudges Casey. “You’re nice to him, right?” He turns to Oliver. “Is Casey nice to him?”

“He tries,” Oliver says, nodding at Matthias. “He brought him a cake pop at the airport this morning.”

“You did?” Matthias asks.

“No.”

Matthias gives Casey’s cheek a poke. “You did. You’re so sweet.”

Casey takes the menu and stares at it really hard. He’s very, very soft under all the shit talk and Matthias kind of loves him a lot for it. He reaches out to gently pinch the back of Casey’s neck, right where his hair curls. Casey’s lips twitch in reply.

“Okay, now I see it,” Marcus says.

Matthias pulls his hand away, because he doesn’t really want anyone to see it, not while they’re in public.

They all order fajitas. Casey shifts, so his knee bumps against Matthias’s under the table. Doesn’t shift away, because it wasn’t an accident. It’s there, warm, insistent, while they eat, while Oliver tells them about his moms meeting Marcus, while the place slowly fills up around them.

They don’t stick around for too long. Casey insists on paying, and says, “I was only gonna pay for Mattie’s, but since you guys needed to turn this into a double date, I guess I’m paying for everything.”

Oliver blows him a kiss.

Two girls who are waiting outside the restaurant with their parents recognize Marcus and he takes a picture with them. Matthias offers to take the picture, but then gets dragged into it, too, and Casey laughs at him on the way to the car.

Casey throws his arm around him as they walk, all casual. Like they’re just bros. Two guys being dudes. Matthias doesn’t waste a thought on what people might think about them.

“Where’s your car?” Casey asks.

“Oh, Marcus drove us here.”

“You carpooled?”

“We live in the same building.”

Casey sighs. “I’ll be here again on November 2,” he says, because of course he knows that. Matthias has it saved in his calendar, but he honestly only knew it’d be the beginning of November. “And on November 2, we’re getting takeout.”

“Why?” Matthias asks, even though he knows the answer.

“So I can tear your clothes off faster,” Casey says. “Obviously.”

“Uh-huh,” Matthias says. Maybe that’s the truth. Or maybe he just wants more time with Matthias.

After spending nearly the entire summer together and crashing a bunch of their teammates’ Cup parties together, Matthias is basically a Casey dictionary. First edition. Still needs a few entries.

It doesn’t really matter if he’ll manage to read Casey perfectly, though. Matthias is pretty sure that one day, Casey will just tell him what he means. No guesses, no translations necessary.

Casey just needs some time. Both of them do.