Ace, our star goalie, lumbered up the walkway with three boxes held in his thick arms.
It figured he’d try and bring all his shit in at once. I flung the door open and jogged to him. “Hey, let me help you with that.” I grabbed the top box from him.
He shook his dark curly hair off his gleaming forehead and took me in, his brown eyes twinkling. “Archer. God, it’s good to see you.” His smile reached his eyes.
“Good to see you, too.” I walked next to him up to our door. “How was the ranch up in Montana?” He’d probably been riding horses and working on his family’s ranch all summer. The guy was as strong as an ox and had the quickest reflexes I’d ever seen on a goalie. He’d be getting an NHL contract for sure.
“Great.” He maneuvered his big, bulky frame and the two remaining boxes in through the front door, then set them down inside and wiped his brow. “Montana was nice and cool, nothing like this fucking sauna down here.”
“Yeah, well, get used to it. You know it’s not going to cool off until November.” I set my box on top of his two and shut the door, then drew a deep inhale. “Did you just work the ranch all summer, or did you get some other stuff in?”
He curled the edge of his mouth. “I got some other stuff in.” He grabbed at the air in front of his hips and thrust a few times, biting his lower lip.
“Jesus, dude.” Chuckling, I shook my head and planted my hands on my hips. “Find another willing ranch hand?”
“You bet.” He ticked his brows at me. “My dad had no idea.” He patted my shoulder. “Hey, I hear you’re getting some from that hot keyboard player for Knot Me.”
Nodding I said, “I am. He’s amazing in bed.” I cocked my head. Wait a minute…“Didn’t you say you hooked up with the guitar player in the band once? What’s his name?—”
“Axel.” He lifted his chin. “And damn, he was something,” he said with a head shake. “But the guy had some crazy crush on his older brother’s best friend, so I knew it would never go anywhere.”
“Yeah, too bad.” Patting his shoulder, I flicked my gaze out the window again, catching movement. “Hey, Jonah’s making his mom’s infamous tuna casserole for dinner.” I peered at him. “You in?”
“Fuck yeah. I’ll even help him make it.” Crouching down, he picked up all three of his boxes and started for the hallway. “Got to make sure all you puck boys are well fed.”
Focusing out the window again, I watched our right winger, Myles, pull a huge duffle bag out of the back seat of his car, then another. His wavy, dark blond hair was down to his shoulders now and he’d looked like he’d put on about ten pounds of muscle.
I rushed out the door and jogged down the driveway to his car, parked at the curb in front of our single-story bungalow. The heat and sunshine from the day swept over my skin. “Hey, need a hand?”
He straightened, throwing the handle of a duffle over one shoulder, and his gaze found mine. “Sure.” As a wide smile graced his lips, he held out a duffle bag to me. “Thanks.” He looked off toward the house. “God, it’s good to be back with everyone.”
“Yeah, most of the guys are already in there. I think we’re only missing Tyler now.” I gave him a side hug, then fist bumped him and pivoted to fall in beside him to walk to the house. “How was Chicago?”
He shrugged. “It was cool. I focused on hitting the weights and started a new eating program.” As he turned a grin on me, he held up an arm and curled it, showing off his thick bicep. “What do you think?”
“You look awesome. You’ll have to tell me your secret.” I bumped his shoulder with mine. I could probably stand to put on about ten more pounds myself, being as I was one of our D-men.
He stopped at our front door and flung it open, then motioned to me. “Go ahead. After you.”
“Thanks.” I stepped inside and stopped. “So, junior year for you and senior year for me.” I gave him a warm smile. With his father working in the NHL doing contracts, if he couldn’t make it the next two years in hockey, he was pretty much assured a job somewhere in the league. And he was the nicest guy. But then, don’t they always say that about Canadians? “Is this going to be your year?”
“I hope so.” He scanned the room. “Damn, you’ve been busy.”
“No, the movers were busy. I just directed.” It was cool of our parents to pitch in for movers the way they had. We’d kept all our shit in storage over the two months or so we’d all been home. I tagged his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” I walked down the hallway with him following.
“Didn’t Mason win the master bedroom?” he asked, peeking into Jonah’s room. “Hey, man.”
“Hey, Myles. Good to see you,” Jonah set folded shirts into his dresser drawer.
I took a few steps, then stopped at Myles’ room. “Mason did win it this year, the bastard.”
“I heard that, Carlson!” Mason bound out of his room at the end of the hall. “I won it fair and square, so no bitching about it.” He pushed on my shoulder.
“Yeah, whatever.” I rolled my eyes. Every year, we let Jonah’s mom pick a name from a hat to see who would get the master bedroom. This year, she’d picked Mason. I’d gotten it in freshman year and had shared it with Jonah.
“He won it, fair and square,” Jonah called out from his room.
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hand into the doorway of Myles’ room, filled with white, IKEA furniture. “Here you go. It’s all yours.” I set his duffle onto the hard wood floor inside the room.