Face Offs & Cheap Shots (CU Hockey #2) - Eden Finley Page 0,41
Beck?”
“Jesus, are you drunk?”
“Does that answer my question?”
Cohen starts to laugh. “Is this about the captain thing? You practically handed it to him, man.”
“No, this is about—”
“Everyone, calm down!”
Finally.
Beck walks down the hall, arms held out like he’s got everything under control. “Call off the hounds, I’m here.”
“About fucking ti—”
“Teddy, where were you?”
Great. And now she’s talking for me. “Yeah, Teddy. Where did you head off to?”
His eyes lock on mine, and instead of the anger I’m expecting, I’m hit with the weirdest urge to step forward and stake my claim. Fuck Cohen, fuck the campers, fuck baby.
I’m not finished with him.
But like hell am I giving in to that.
“Went for a walk.” Beck licks his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to come back and find Armageddon.”
Cohen waves a hand at me. “Jacobs is drunk and causing a scene.”
“I’m not causing a scene.”
“Right,” Beck says. “Because everyone usually hangs out in the hall at midnight.”
“It’s your fault.”
“My …” His attention moves from me to his doorway, and suddenly his whole damn face lights up. Beck starts to laugh.
“What are you …”
“Jacobs, I see you’ve already met my sister?”
His … sister. Goddamn it. The fight drains from me, and I’m left standing there, now only a partially drunk fool.
“Come on, Topher.” Beck’s hand lightly pushes on the small of my back. “Let’s get you sobered up before tomorrow.”
My feet follow him on autopilot, and as we leave, I overhear Cohen say, “You know, I play hockey too.”
“Don’t even think about touching my sister,” Beck calls. “She bites.”
Through the lingering alcohol haze, I’m beginning to realize what a dickhead I’ve been.
We get into the elevator, and the doors close behind us.
“I didn’t know she was your sister,” I somehow manage to get out.
“I figured.”
We pass my floor. “Ah …”
“We’re getting you coffee.” Beck’s voice is more serious than I’ve heard it. “And something to eat. I’m going out on a limb here to guess you didn’t have dinner.”
“Nope.”
When we arrive on the ground floor, he links his fingers gently through mine and tugs me across the foyer. I follow Beck down a path to one of the twenty-four-hour cafés next to campus. It’s quiet tonight, but during the semester, the place is usually packed at all hours.
“Go get a table.”
I do as he says purely because my head is starting to pound. He joins me a few minutes later.
Beck’s stare burns into the side of my face as I look everywhere but at him.
“So … I feel like maybe I’ve been an idiot.” My voice squeaks.
“Just maybe?”
I roll my eyes. “Can you blame me? What the hell do you call your sister baby for? It’s weird.”
“It’s not weird. It’s her name.”
“Like, a nickname?”
“No. Her actual name.”
And suddenly, something really amazing occurs to me. “And Teddy is …”
He sighs. “Mine.”
“As in, short for Theodore?”
He buries a hand in his usually perfect hair, making it look sexier than normal. “I could totally lie and say yes, but”—he pulls out his license and slides it over—“I guess you should know the name of the guy you’re fucking.”
I quickly look around, but there’s only one other person in here and they’re paying us zero attention. Then I look at the ID. Of course his photo is perfect, and there, in small print, is his legal name.
Teddy Junior Beckett.
“Wow. Wait …”
“My dad is Theodore and wanted to give me the proper junior title. Mom wanted Teddy. She won. She’s the only one who can win against my father.”
“So, your middle name is Junior…” I try not to laugh.
“There’s no point asking you to keep this quiet, is there?”
“No way is that happening.”
He sighs again, but this time I feel like it’s more for show.
“Baby and Teddy. Separately they’re creepy, but together …” I pull a face. “Your parents really didn’t consider that you guys would be grown-ass adults one day, did they?”
“Oh, they did. But we’re Becketts. It’s not our first names people care about.”
“Yikes.”
“Yep.”
“Teddy Beckett. Teddy Beck.” My eyes widen. “Teddy B … ear. You realize you’re Teddy Bear from this day forward, right?”
He smiles at me from across the table, and there’s no hint of his earlier annoyance. “Topher and Teddy. I like it.”
Something tugs in my gut. Something deeper and warmer than I want to give thought to.
His foot nudges mine under the table as one of the servers brings over two coffees and a large bacon-and-egg sandwich. “Why did you get drunk tonight? It’s so unlike you.”