Eden Finley - Puck Drills & Quick Thrills

While we stuck as close as we could to the NCAA guidelines and rules in regards to hockey, we took creative freedom with some small details, because fiction is supposed to be fun.

Names, colleges, characters, businesses, places, events, and inci- dents are either the products of the authors imaginations or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

WESTLY

The fall from NHL superstar to domestic disaster was swift and painful. When I became the legal guardian of my five younger siblings, I had no idea what I was doing.

One year later, Im still lost.

Coaching CUs hockey team might be the only thing Im excelling at. But when our star forward is failing math, I have to do what it takes to keep him on the team. Even if its going head-to-head with Jasper Eckstein.

One minute Im confronting the notorious hockey-hating professor, and the next Im agreeing to be his date to his twenty-year high school reunion.

I dont know how that happened.

JASPER

My rules are simple. I dont give extra credit. Ever. No matter how entitled jocks think they are, I refuse to give them special treatment.

It's not because I hate them. It's not because a hockey player broke my nose in high school.

It's fair.

But when Westly Dalton bursts into my office like a hurricane, all my principles fly out the window.

Suddenly I'm giving extra credit.

And I have a date to my reunion.

After one explosive night together, I want more, but his home life is a mess, and I don't want to get in the way. If all we can have is quick thrills, Im okay with that.

Its not like I could ever fall for a jock.

I march across campus like Im on a mission. Because I am.

Professor Eckstein just made my shit list, and its really hard to do that. I dont hate anyone. I rarely get mad. Unless its at my brother, Asher, for doing something stupid. Which he does. A lot.

But even Ashers not on my shit list.

Being a hockey coach and ex-NHL player, I have dealt with a lot of overgrown, testosterone-filled man children in my life. It takes some epic levels of assholism to piss me off. Without having met Professor Fuckstain, hes already managed to get on my bad side. What kind of coldhearted A-hole does he have to be to deny a student extra credit when theyre dealing with real-life shit?

My brothers grades arent greatIm not delusional hereand yeah, he could maybe dedicate more time to study, but when? When does Asher get the chance? He goes to classes, then to hockey practice, and then we go home to a house full of kids that Im responsible for because our parents went out to dinner one night, lost control of their car, and never came home.

Im the legal guardian of five minors when a year ago, I was throwing my money away on partying and sleeping with anything that moves.

Responsibility hit me harder than an enforcer with a grudge, and it feels like Ive been slammed into the boards repeatedly ever since.

Theres no way I could handle it all on my own, so I asked Asher to postpone his spot in the NHL to play Division I college hockey and help me around the house. Its only until he graduates and the kids are a bit older. Hopefully after four years, Ill actually have the hang of this pseudoparenting thing. Asher may be above asking for help, but Im not. Plus, I felt it needed to be us who looked after them. Were their big brothers, and I didnt want strangers raising them.

Because of the sacrifices Ashers making, Ill do anything to make sure the NHL is still in the future for him. I got my chance; he needs his. Just as soon as I figure out what Im doing.

The first step of making sure that happens is keeping Asher on the team.

The fact he asked for extra credit and admitted he needs help is a big thing for my stubborn-headed twenty-one-year-old brother. And this fucking professor shoots him down because, why? He likes being a sadistic asshole to his students?

Ashers not dumb. He has the brains, but its hard for him to retain information he doesnt care about. He only cares about hockey, and until recently, I understood it because I was the same. Now I have other shit to care about, like making sure my five siblings dont have a traumatic adolescence. I have to say, Im not off to a great start.

Im the epitome of that meme where everythings on fire with the caption Everything is fine.

Ive just gotten Asher to actually put in some effort with his classes, and I thought it was paying off, but I could tell as soon as he walked into practice today, he wasnt only pissed off. He was defeated.

Isnt it a teachers job to encourage their students?

I storm into the mathematics building but have absolutely no idea where Im going. Its been six years since I walked these halls as a student, and Fuckstain wasnt one of the professors then, so I dont know where his office is.

As I pass by the different lecture halls and classrooms, I scan each of the doors, trying to find his name, and then near the end of the building, I find it.

Prof. Jasper Eckstein.

I barge through the door without even pausing to knock.

The guy behind the desk startles at my abrupt entry, but all the words die on my lips as soon as we lock eyes. His are the palest blue Ive ever seen, and he has a jawline that could cut glass.

I was expecting an old, grumpy dude with gray hair and beard. I was not expecting this.

Jasper Eckstein is sex wrapped up in the package of a Sunday school teacher.

From his light brown hair, filled-out muscles trying to break the seams of his tweed jacket, and pleasantly curious expression, I think Ive walked into the wrong office. Or Eckstein shares the space with the Adonis in front of me. Hes midthirties at most. This cant be the professor who has a reputation for hating jocks. He doesnt look mean enough to be bitter.

But then he scowls and proves me wrong. Can I help you? Hes eyeing me the exact same way Im doing to him, but his gaze catches on the logo on my polo shirta C and U with the word hockey underneath.

I

He cuts me off. Youre here about Asher Dalton.

I do have the right office, then, and his reputation precedes himself. I am. Im Westly, Ashers

Assistant coach. I remember the dean telling everyone at a functionthat you didnt attendhow great it is to have a recent NHL player at the school. And then he actually boasted about how much theyre paying you while simultaneously telling me theres no room in the budget to expand the math department. So yeah, I know who you are.

Okay, I think his reputation is actually understated.

Asher is

He cuts me off again. Not suited for my class. He still has time to drop it, and it wont affect his grades. He can keep his precious spot on the hockey team and pick up a different class next semester.