Everyone hoots and hollers, ready for the upcoming five-day break. Classes and sports shut down on Wednesday and won’t reopen until Monday. Most students go home, but the campus is still open for those who stay. Brayden’s parents invited us over for Thanksgiving, but aside from that, I’m looking forward to spending some downtime with Brayden. It’s definitely not easy dating a guy in secret. But until I can figure out how to coach his team and date a player on it, we don’t have much of a choice.
“What time is that fundraising crap?” Finn asks, snapping me from my thoughts.
“It’s not crap,” I say, hitting him with a hard stare. “The event supports the athletic program, which means it’s helping to support this team. It starts promptly at six and I expect you all to be there on time and dressed nice.” They groan in unison, some of them cursing under their breath.
I shoot them all a warning glare, so they know I’m not playing. “And nice, meaning dress pants, dress shirt, and tie. And iron that shit too. Got it?” Curtis made it clear this event is a big deal. It’s how the athletic program earns nearly thirty percent of their funding.
The guys all mutter their understanding. “All right, get out of here and I’ll see you tomorrow morning for practice… six a.m.”
The guys scramble to the locker room, ready to get on with the rest of their afternoon. I head into my office, while they shower and bullshit with each other about who’s throwing what party. I never knew college was like one long-ass party. I guess because I went from high school straight to the NHL, I skipped the whole college experience. Sure, the guys partied, but it was different. More sophisticated. I was surrounded by luxury and class. Here, I’m surrounded by immature college students who are chasing ass.
Some days it’s hard to remember that I’m the same age as these guys. Like my few years in the NHL forced me to grow up. As I type up an email to the transportation company we’ll be using next month for our away game, I think back to the Halloween party a couple weeks ago. I wasn’t keen on going at first, scared someone would recognize me, but in the end I was glad I got to go. For a single night I got to be my age… Dancing with Brayden and Ashton and Mia, drinking shitty liquor—just having a good time. It was the only time Brayden and I have been able to be out in public together, and to a certain extent, act like a couple.
“What’s going through that sexy head of yours?” a gravelly voice says. I glance up and quickly dart my eyes around to make sure nobody heard him.
“Everyone’s gone.” He steps into my office and closes the door behind him. With the blinds shut, the only way someone can see inside is through the window of the door.
I look at the time and realize I’ve been lost in my own head for close to thirty minutes. Brayden comes to my side of the desk and props his ass up against the edge. He’s dressed in his usual Ice Hawks sweats and hoodie. He’s sporting a matching blue beanie and wet strands of hair are sticking out from having just taken a shower. My eyes ascend until they meet his and he smirks, knowing I was just checking him out.
I don’t give a shit, though. He’s used to it. I spent years without him and sometimes I just need to look at him to remind myself that I have him back in my life. That he’s mine. And I’m his.
“So…” he prompts. “What’s going on in your head? You looked like you were lost in thought.”
I roll my chair back slightly and fist the front of his hoodie, pulling him over so he’s in front of me, standing between my legs. His fingers thread through my messy hair, that’s long overdue for a haircut, and I tug on the front of his hoodie, pulling him down to kiss him. The second our mouths connect, it feels like we’ve entered our own world. Just Brayden and me. No college, no hockey, no hiding. Just us.
“What’s wrong?” he asks when he ends the kiss. His brows are furrowed in concern, and I find myself rubbing the crease away on his forehead.
“I was just—” My words are cut off, when there’s a quick knock on the door and then it swings open. Brayden jumps back as Curtis walks through the door. My heart pumps extra hard as my entire body drains in nervousness.
Curtis’s gaze ping-pongs from me to Brayden and then back to me. “Everything okay in here?” he asks, obviously feeling the tension in the room, not knowing he’s the cause of it.
“Yeah,” I choke out, then clear my throat. “Bray… den and I were just going over some plays for tomorrow night’s game against Ohio.”
Curtis nods slowly. “How’re you feeling about it?”
“Good,” Brayden answers for me. “The chemistry of the team is solid this year. I think we have a chance of making it to the championship and taking the trophy home.”
“Good, good,” Curtis replies, a small smile finally forming on his lips. “And you’re ready to schmooze the donors on Saturday?”
“Yes, sir.” Brayden smirks. “I’ve even agreed to be auctioned off.”
Curtis chuckles, as my head swings his way. What the hell is he talking about?
“That’s right,” Curtis says. “I saw your name on the roster. Can’t wait to see which lucky lady wins a date with you.” He pats Brayden on the shoulder. “All right, I better get going. Dinner with the wife… Just wanted to touch base, Drew. I’ll see you guys Saturday.”
With one final look between the two of us, he exits, leaving the door wide-open. I wait a few seconds, until I hear the heavy locker room door slam shut and then I’m up and on Brayden. “You didn’t tell me you were being auctioned off.”
Brayden groans. “It honestly slipped my mind until the dean walked in.”
“Why the hell would you agree to that?” I accuse, hurt as hell that my boyfriend would be willing to auction himself off to the highest bidder. “It’s bad enough we can’t even go on a fucking date, but now you’re going to go on a date with someone else.”
“It’s not like that,” Brayden argues. “It’s for a good cause.”
“So, I’ll donate to the fucking fundraiser.” I know I sound like a jealous asshole. “Back out.”
Brayden scoffs. “I’m not backing out. I already agreed to it. Blow your money on something else.”
“So, what? You’re just going to go on this date with whichever woman wins you? Take her to dinner? You don’t think whoever spends thousands on you isn’t going to be expecting to get her money’s worth?”
Brayden snorts out a laugh. “It’s for a fundraiser. I’m not being pimped out.”
“Might as well be,” I argue, grabbing my jacket and throwing it over my shoulders. I had a meeting earlier with the athletic department, so I’m dressed in a fucking monkey suit, complete with a tie and dress shoes.
“It’s not like that,” Brayden says, following me out of the office. I flip the light switch then lock the door.
“Whatever, Bray,” I hiss. “Enjoy your fucking date.”
“Stop,” he commands, grabbing my bicep and turning me around. He pushes me up against a wall and his body presses against mine. “You don’t think I want to show up to that function with you, arm in arm? You don’t think I hate that every night we have to hide out in your room, that I can’t post a single picture of us on social media? That the only people who can know about us are my parents and Ashton and Mia?”