LOGINCASPIAN POV
His statement snaps me back to reality as the floor seems to fall from beneath my feet. This is exactly the kind of thing I was hoping to avoid. But here we are,my heart crawling into my throat at hearing the consequences all the same. “Suspend me for something I didn’t do?” His lips form a tight line, and then he sighs. “I have to until I can prove you aren’t using, kiddo. My hands are tied. You have to realize it’s my ass on the line too, especially with the way the sports league is cracking down after the shit that happened with the rival team. I look between the three of them again, unsure where to go from here. But from the solemn expressions aimed at me, there’s nothing to do but accept the punishment. There has to be something that can be done. Anything. I’m damn near getting on my knees and begging at this point. Because this can’t be the way my hockey career ends. No team in the League would dare touch me if this catches wind and I’m suspended for drug use. Drugs I didn’t even fucking use to begin with. That won’t matter to them, though. This would be a black mark on the resume I’ve been building since the first time I put on skates as a kid. Dejected and defeated, I cradle my head in my hands. “But…” he says, trailing off. That one word breathes new life into me, and I lift my head. “Please tell me that’s the good kind of but and not the kind that will make this even worse.” The coach lets out a bark of laughter, eyes softening around the edges. "We can get you retested. Today, before we start talks of complete ineligibility. After all, if you were a habitual user, the drugs would still be in your system. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll submit an appeal on your behalf. Like I said, I don’t think you did this. The last thing I want to see is you being punished for someone else’s mistake, if that’s truly what this is.” “None of us do,” Coach Daniel's one of the assistants cuts in. “That’s good,” I breathe, letting out a sigh of relief. “That’s really good.” The coach nods. “We still can’t let you play until the second set of tests come back hopefully, negative at the very least. Which could very well be another week. But it’s better than nothing.” “Better than nothing,” I repeat, feeling a small amount of hope blossoming in my chest. It’s all gonna be fine. I’ll test negative and the appeal will go through and everything will be back to the way it was before I pissed in that damn cup. I’m too busy chanting silent prayers to listen in on what the three discuss among themselves. After all, if this has been my luck lately, I’m gonna need all the help I can get. Especially from the hockey players. But something Coach says snags my attention, causing my hair to stand on end. “Get Orlov in here for me, will you?” Coach says to Coach Daniel's, who nods and exits the office silently. “Orlov?” The dread in my gut returns. He’s the last person I want to see or talk to me right now. “What’s he got to do with this?” Coach sighs, like he always does when the bastard and I are involved. It’s not like we’ve made it easy on him these last few years, and honestly, I’m sure he's ready to be rid of us. Even if Dmitry is his own cousin. “We need another captain on the ice while you’re on temporary suspension,” he says just as the door opens again, revealing Dmitry and Coach Daniel's . “Suspension?” he says, clearly catching the tail end of his cousin's sentence. His eyes land on me while the door clicks shut behind him. “What’s going on?” “You’ll be taking over as captain, Boy . Effective immediately,” Coach says gruffly, and I flick my attention back to him to find his attention still locked on me. Another rush of embarrassment floods me, even though I know Coach is on my side in this and more importantly I did nothing wrong. There’s absolutely no circumstance where I’d ever think of using any kind of drugs. Dmitry steps further into the room, and I feel his stare burning the side of my face like a white-hot brand. Penetrating, even. Like I’m as transparent as glass. When I maintain my silence, keeping my stare directly on Coach who is watching us like a hawk, Dmitry lets out a bark of laughter. “What’d you do this time?” I try not to give him my attention or let him get under my skin, but the freedom in his laugh and taunting tone ignites a fuse inside me. Hard not to, when this jackass is being handed everything I’ve worked for, and for no real reason. But I cave, letting my gaze collide with his, boring into each other. I know mine have to be showcasing every bit of rage and defeat coursing through my veins, because Dmitry's eyes narrow, like he’s reading the silence between us to figure out just why— “You tested positive,” he says. Not a question; just an incredulous statement. When I don’t respond, a shit-eating grin slides across his face. “Damn, Beckett. I knew you were reckless, but I didn’t know you were stupid too.” “Bite me,” I snap between clenched teeth. “I’m good, thanks,” he retorts before letting out another laugh. “I just wanna know why. Because even you have to be smart enough to know Drowse shrinks your dick.” My lips curl up in what has to be a sneer. “It’s actually your balls that shrink, Orlov, but regardless, your concern for what I’m packing is duly noted.” He goes to open his mouth again, a flare of red tinting his cheeks at my inadvertent comment about his sexuality. Which…I’ll admit, was tacky. But it’s too late to take it back now. “Cut it out The both of you,” Coach bites out, for which I’m grateful. This entire situation already has me on edge, and Dmitry running his mouth like the jackass he is, antagonizing me for sport, will only make things are worse. Which could lead me into even more trouble if I let my temper get the best of me. Biting my tongue is the safest option, so I do just that. To the point of blood filling my mouth. And though it kills me, I don’t use the moment of silence granted by Coach to correct Dmitry's assumptions. He doesn’t need the specifics as it is.Nor does he deserve them. The coach's eyes drift between us, studying and analyzing in a way that makes me feel almost naked. And again, transparent. Guess that’s a family trait. “The two of you need to get it together. I haven’t said anything until now because I was hopeful that putting you on the same line this season would help you find some common ground. Apparently that’s not working, so I need the two of you to actively find a way to fix your shit. Am I clear?” He doesn’t even have to leave a threat hanging over our heads like an executioner’s blade. Simply getting chewed out for our little spats is enough to make both of us straighten our spines and hear what he has to say. “Crystal,” I murmur at the same time a quick “Yes, sir” comes from Dmitry I fight the impulse to roll my eyes at him calling his own cousin sir, no doubt to garner more favor with him. Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him refer to Coach as anything other than just that. Coach. Damn suck-up. “Are we done, then?” I ask, looking between the three coaches. When I get the nod, I make a move to get up, ready to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. “Okay, great. Well, I’m gonna go get dressed, and then—” “You can’t suit up, kid,” he tells me, a look of remorse on his face. “You’ll have to watch from the stands. As a spectator.” A poorly disguised laugh comes from Dmitry, and I roll my lips inward before clamping my teeth around them to keep from screaming.CASPIAN POVI come harder than I have in my entire fucking life.I come with the taste of him still on my lips.Not allowing myself to linger in a blissful, post-orgasmic state, I make a move to clean up the remnants of my release still coating my hand and stomach, all the while a low, churning feeling settles low in my stomach.One I recognize as frustration.Climbing back into bed, I yank the sheets over me and slam my head against my pillow with enough force, I'm able to feel something hard beneath it.My lucky puck.My superstition.I shift, shoving my arm beneath my pillow until I find it. My fingers travel along the cool, smooth rubber disk, allowing the texture to calm the countless overwhelming emotions ebbing and flowing through me.Taking a deep breath, I fiddle with it more until my racing heart subsides into slow, steady beats. And it works. Soon enough, I'm relaxed again. As much as I can be, focusing on the things I know and have control over rather than all the unanswer
CASPIAN POVThere are days I really wish I was less of a manwhore.It's not often, seeing as the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks when everyone involved is on the same page.But today?As I'm shoving my way out the door of the frat house?Well, let's just say I wish I would've mastered the art of self-control. And willpower.My only saving grace in this whole scenario is that I bolted before Dmitry had a chance to: A, make himself presentable again. And B, follow me. Not that I think he'd follow me, necessarily. From the way he stared at me somewhere between pure bliss and abject horror when I told him he could get a repeat if he played well tomorrow, I don't think following me would've been high on his list of things to do.Unless it were to kick my ass for the stunt I just pulled. Either way, I wasn't about to stick around and find out once his orgasm high wore off.Fuck, what the hell was I thinking?I wasn't. That's the problem.My brain was all over the goddamn place. The shit
DMITRY POVThere are exactly three things I know for certain right now.One: Caspian Beckett just blew my mind in a frat house bathroom.Two: I let him.Three: I am absolutely, completely, irreversibly screwed.I stand with my back against the vanity, pants still undone, the air thick and stale around me, and I cannot move. Some part of my brain is still catching up to what just happened. The rest of it is stuck on one humiliating truth I cannot talk my way out of.It was the best orgasm of my life.Not good. Not great. The best. The kind that hollows you out and leaves you blinking at the ceiling wondering where your name went for a solid forty-five seconds. And the worst part? The genuinely catastrophic part?It was *him.*Caspian. My rival. The one person at Silvercrest University I have spent three years perfecting the art of hating. The guy who gets under my skin faster than anyone I have ever met, who looks at me like I am a problem he is bored of solving, who said *I'll believe
DMITRY POVMy fingers latch on to his shoulder, and I attempt to push him down. "My dick, not my throat, Beckett. It's time to put your money where your mouth is."His nostrils flare slightly in challenge as two rows of white teeth come out in a hellish grin. Then he drops to his knees on the tile floor and leans forward, not a flinch or pause in sight as his tongue flicks out against the blunt head of my cock, giving him his first taste of me.But instead of easing into it, he goes all Caspian on me and dives in without a second thought of what he's doing or the repercussions of his actions. And for once, I'm not at all upset about it."Holy shit," I groan, counting backward from ten to keep my shit together. It works, but only just, because he's using the perfect amount of pressure and technique to have me primed and ready to explode in less than a minute flat.Which begs the question, has he done this before?For whatever reason, the thought doesn't sit right with me.I'm not able
DMITRY POV"What're you do—"The sudden shove he gives me after the door falls closed behind us sends me stumbling backward blindly. My heart damn near leaps out of my chest while I try to stabilize myself in the dark, nameless room. Which becomes infinitely harder to do when the light is flicked on, blinding me altogether while I grab on to the edge of something.A sink.Bathroom. We're in the fucking bathroom.Fantastic."What the hell, Beckett?" I snap, blinking to help my eyes adjust. When I look over toward the door, I'm even more irritated to find him leaning against it with a smug smile on his face. He says nothing, just keeps on fucking grinning. Like he's enjoying this.But that can't be right, because Caspian doesn't enjoy anything unless it involves a fist fight, puck bunnies, or his stupid fucking motorcycle.None of those things are involved while he's locked in a bathroom with me.Unless...This isn't about to turn into a bathroom brawl, is it?His brow quirks slightly, h
DMITRY POV"Shouldn't you be at home, golden boy?" Caspian said lips curved up in a smirk ,I could tell he was rage baiting me.I don't take the bait on the golden boy thing. Not tonight. "Babysitting duty," I mutter, nodding toward the dance floor where Rafael and Enzo have become completely indistinguishable from each other. "Roommate needed to get his dick wet."For the first time since he planted himself next to me, I feel Caspian's eyes move to my face. Reading me. That particular focused attention he has that I've never been able to decide if I find more annoying or unsettling."What?" I say, turning to meet his gaze."Nothing." He looks back at the crowd. "Just you. Judging the people you call your friends.""I'm not judging him.""Sure you aren't.""I'm not," I say, and it's mostly true. I'm not judging Rafael for wanting to hook up. I'm judging his selection. There's a difference.Caspian's expression makes it clear he finds this distinction unconvincing."Save the bullshit,"
CASPIAN POV Helmets and pads bang and clack against wooden stalls as the team strips down after practice. We’ve been gearing up for our first away game series at none other than our rival school—also in the Toronto area—Gravenmore institute, and despite the hiccups in our first two games at home,
CASPIAN POV The locker room was empty,looking so serene and oddly fucking quiet.That was the first thing I noticed immediately when I walked in was the smell of ice and sweat hanging in the air like something permanent, something I find comfort in. My gear was off. So was Dmitry's.I don't rememb
DMITRY POVI stare after Caspian’s retreating form, still fuming from the verbal sparring match he coaxed me into having. Or maybe I started it this time. Honestly, it’s hard to tell anymore with every single shitty encounter leading into the next.For the life of me, I wish I knew how to let his c
CASPIAN POV October—Four Years Later“Beckett. You’re late.”Coach’s penetrating stare is aimed at me the second I burst through the locker room doors, having just dashed across campus like a madman to avoid this very scenario from playing out. But hopes that I’d be able to sneak in unnoticed rath







