Book Description

Since the moment they met, San Francisco Sea Lions defenseman Luca Mazetti has harbored a debilitating crush on his on-ice partner and roommate, Breezy. Loud and friendly, Breezy mistakenly believes he’s Italian even though he’s from Montreal. In short, he’s everything Luca never thought he’d want. When Breezy asks for help navigating love and sex, Luca is powerless to resist, despite knowing he’s only going to end up getting hurt.

Chris Calabrese, “Breezy” to his teammates, knows he’s not the sharpest blade on the skate. He can’t even figure out why none of his girlfriends stick around. And he’s definitely not a good fit for the newly vacant alternate captaincy everyone keeps trying to give him. All Breezy wants is for the team to get along, despite the changes and upheaval plaguing the roster. If he can keep Luca living in his apartment as well, even better. Breezy knows his best friend is way too good for him and will move on eventually, but for reasons Breezy doesn’t fully understand, he’s desperate to keep Luca’s attention.

With dissent brewing among the Sea Lions, can Luca and Chris hold the team together? Or will the Sea Lions disintegrate along with their friendship? And if it does, can they build something stronger from the rubble?

Purchase Links

NineStar Press: https://ninestarpress.com/product/two-for-charging/

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/two-for-charging

*****

Excerpt

Two for Charging

S.B. Barnes © 2026

All Rights Reserved

Prologue

Kayleigh [off-screen]: Hi! I’m Kayleigh, the San Francisco Sea Lions’ local media gal, and I’m here with our newest addition to the team, Luca Mazetti. Luca, tell us a bit about yourself.

Luca: Hello. I’m Luca. I’m twenty-one, and I play defense.

Kayleigh: …Okay, so where are you from?

Luca: Rome.

Kayleigh: And, um, before now, you played on the Sea Lions’ AHL team, the San Diego Pups?

Luca: Yes, I was sent there after training camp this year.

Kayleigh: So how are you adjusting to the NHL?

Luca: Fine.

Kayleigh: [sighs audibly]

Breezy [off-screen]: Fine! Luca got two assists in his first two games! That’s amazing! He’s doing so great! (He joins Luca on camera, throwing an arm around his shoulder.)

Luca: [looks away, hiding a smile from Breezy the camera barely catches]

Kayleigh: Breezy! You were our resident Italian before Luca came along! How does it feel to be replaced?

Breezy: I’m still Italian—

Luca: Please, you’ve never set foot in Europe. You are about as Italian as sauce from a jar.

Breezy: [speaking Italian]

Luca: [speaking Italian]

Kayleigh: Guys?

Top comments:

1682rox: wake up fam. new OTP just dropped

calabreezy: look how Mazetti’s face lights up when Calabrese walks on set. is it because he can escape the boring questions? or is it because he waits all day for the opportunity to mock his new bff?

puckpuckstick: @calabreezy—why not both?

(Video posted in The Rookery, the direct-to-consumer streaming service of the San Francisco

Sea Lions and all associated teams, on 11/15/2024)

*****

Chris “Breezy” Calabrese was not an Italian.

The moment Luca met him, he knew this fact completely and wholly. Nothing about Chris’s Canadian accent, his extremely polite manners, or his utter cluelessness when thrust into social situations reminded Luca remotely of Italy. Nor did his coloring, winter-pale and suited more for Montreal in February than Calabria in July. Even his stature, which Luca would describe as “big,” was not particularly Italian. Most of the men in Luca’s family tended toward a slimmer, wiry build. Not that there weren’t built men in Italy, but something about the packed muscle of Breezy’s tall, thick frame in combination with his wide brown eyes and messy dark curls screamed “built for cold weather and nice people.”

He was the only man Luca had ever met of whom his nonna would not say, “You’re so skinny! Eat some more!”

Unfortunately, Breezy labored under the severe misapprehension that he and Luca must become the best of friends because Luca grew up a few hundred kilometers north of a city neither Breezy nor his parents had ever visited but still thought of as “home.” Luca had missed his chance to explain why this notion was lunacy when Breezy first introduced himself—Breezy had bounded up, all excitement that they had a heritage in common, and Luca had been powerless to resist his enthusiasm. Partly, that was because he’d just arrived to a new team in a new place, and he’d been overwhelmed, out of his depth, and unwilling to admit to either emotion. Partly, Luca couldn’t imagine anyone being able to resist Breezy’s warm, if oblivious, approach. He’d known Luca for less than a week when he offered up his spare room and refused to take “no” for an answer.

Luca just couldn’t parse why Breezy would want to be Italian.

But here he was, standing in the living room of Breezy’s two-bedroom apartment in Haight-Ashbury, staring at a map of Italy with different shapes of pasta indicated in each region.

“Cool, right?” Breezy asked, enthused. “My aunt Camilla gave it to me when I moved here.”

It was horrifying. Did Luca have to be polite about it?

Undeterred by silence, Breezy kept going. “I know the map says orecchiette are the real Calabrian pasta, but I’ve always really liked those nests of tagliatelle, you know.”

“In Italy you are allowed to eat all pastas in all places,” Luca said, because he couldn’t not. “Except penne lisce.”

“Oh, of course.” Breezy laughed. “I thought…never mind. So this is the living room, and my bedroom’s on the left. If you hate the spare room, we can trade.”

“I’m not throwing you out of your room.” The thought horrified Luca, especially since Breezy refused to tell Luca what he ought to be paying in rent.

“I don’t mind. I’m pretty easy. I mean. Um, easygoing.” A flush suffused Breezy’s pale cheeks.

He might not be Italian, but he was adorable.

Luca stamped down the thought ruthlessly.

He could not afford to be attracted to a man right now, let alone one as ridiculous as Breezy.

“So, let’s put your things in here,” Breezy said, holding open the door to the room he’d indicated as a spare. Immediately, Luca could tell why he’d chosen the apartment. The spacious bedroom boasted a massive window facing out toward the rolling hills of San Francisco on one side and a walk-in closet on the other. The only furniture was a standard double bed, but Luca could envision living here with ease.

“Thank you again for letting me stay here,” Luca said, dropping his suitcase. “It’s extremely generous of you. I wish you would let me pay rent.”

Breezy waved him off as he had done the last four times Luca asked. Instead, he asked, “What can we do to make you feel at home? It must be hard, being so far away.”

His voice betrayed no hint of mockery, only earnest sympathy, and a swell of sudden, intense fondness burst in Luca’s chest.

Oh, that was so inconvenient.

He had to nip it in the bud.

So what if Breezy was openly, honestly nice in a way no teammate of Luca’s ever had been? So what if Luca wanted to savor every second of his attention? He needed to focus on staying in the roster and playing the best hockey of his life, and he needed his teammates to see him as one of the guys, as stupid as he found it. Breezy couldn’t know about this momentary spark of attraction, or he would be disgusted, and Luca would be right back where he started in Juniors. Alone.

As if he could hear Luca’s every thought, Breezy smiled, and Luca’s stomach flipped.

He needed Breezy to stop being so nice to him. If that meant risking his living situation, Luca could find his own apartment. But first, he needed Breezy to stop pursuing his friendship, or he’d have no chance at normalcy.

Luckily, Luca’s ill-fated stint playing Juniors in Winnipeg had taught him he had one strength he could rely on: he could make anyone hate him. Doing it to someone as nice as Breezy would sting, but better now than letting himself get attached and being disappointed later when Breezy turned out to be the same as every other hockey player.

Luca leaned against the doorframe of his new room, crossed his arms, and said, “Thank you for having me here. But there is one thing we must be clear on, yes?”

Breezy nodded.

“You are not Italian.”

Breezy’s eyes went wide and hurt, and Luca braced for impact. Good thing he hadn’t unpacked yet.

But then Breezy blinked twice, and a smile spread across his face, no less earnest than any of his others. “You would know, I guess! I mean, my parents always said… But whatever. You’re going to have to tell me all about what Italy is really like. And hey, you can even do it in Italian. I do speak the language at least!”

This was going to be so much harder than Luca had thought.

*****

Meet the Author

S. B. Barnes attended college in the Hudson Valley, studying English Language and Literature and Anthropology (although unlike her characters, her time there was not interrupted by crime-solving). She grew up split between the USA and Germany, attending university in both countries before eventually settling in Germany. Today, she works as a teacher and lives with her husband and two cats in an apartment with too little shelf space. Fiction has always been one of her greatest loves, as a reader, as a teacher, and as a writer. While S.B. has been writing for most of her life, this is her first foray into publishing her work.

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