JUST WINGING IT

FOR PUCK’S SAKE

BOOK IX

CREA REITAN

dragon fire fantasy

Just Winging It

For Puck’s Sake | Book 9

Copyright © 2024 by Amber Reitan writing as Crea Reitan

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This is a work of fiction - all characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

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Welcome back to my world of MM hockey. Once again, I’m going to remind my readers that, while this story is contemporary and based in the ‘real world’, it is a work of fiction. I’ve studied hockey as a professional sport and read many hockey romances (yes, I’m aware that hockey romances is not a great way to learn the sport haha), but I’m not an expert. If I’ve gotten any details wrong, please feel free to let me know. However, I will tell you now that sometimes I took liberties to make it fit within the story. If it bothers you that I haven’t stuck to all the rules and practices of professional hockey 100%, please put down this book. 

I’m going to begin by saying that while I kept the locations of professional hockey teams reflective of what’s current today (as of 2024) in the ‘real world’, the teams themselves as well as all the players on them (management and every single name within these pages) are completely fictional. Everything about them. Including but not limited to looks, personality, skill, etc. By no means am I writing any ‘real’ players into my books. Do not attack or become obsessed with an athlete or their family because you perceive a likeness to a living person. This goes for every other sport and athlete mentioned, not just hockey.

Note that these locations do not reflect the Arizona to Utah change that happened in April 2024. I’ll have to work that in some other book if I choose to incorporate it! 

I have yet to see an all-star game in person (or even on TV) so my All-Star events are based on the 2023 and 2024 games primarily BUT, I had to take quite a bit of liberties and imagination since I haven’t watched one yet. I did watch a bunch of YouTube clips but I admit that I need to see it live. After quite a bit of research and watching videos of previous All-Star events, I found that the competitions are constantly changing, including how many players compete. For this story, I combined the last few years. While you’re reading this, please keep in mind that I did base this on reality but took A LOT of liberties.

I’m going to say that obviously the first part of the story is dramatized for the story. When we’re this close to Miami (in Sunrise, FL, where the 2023 All-Star games were hosted), regardless of the influx of tourists for hockey, there will always be hotel rooms available all over the place. My choice was to move the games or hugely exaggerate. I’m an author so I decided to exaggerate. Obviously - ha!

This story features a broad cast of characters which is partially because books live like soap operas in my mind and you know there are characters out the wazoo in a soap opera! Some of them will be in other books. This isn’t something that’s ever going to change with my writing. It is not necessary to read any other books to enjoy this one.

Within these pages you’ll find many tropes/themes/kinks/topics and maybe some triggers. Among them are as follows: virgin MC, forced proximity, one bed, instant attraction, long distance relationship, rival players to lovers, video sex, touch starved, cum play, secret relationship, somno, social media drama. 

And of course, this is a love story. 

If anything you just read bothers you, makes you uneasy, or isn’t what you’re looking for, please do not read this book. Indie authors don’t deserve bad reviews because readers read the warnings and ignore them. Or better yet, don’t read them at all. I’m not for everyone and I’ll be the first to tell you to go read something else if this doesn’t sound like something you’re going to enjoy. Otherwise, enjoy this story about Lo and Caulder finding each other in the most unlikely of places.

CHAPTER 1

CAULDER HAINES

Creed takes a seat next to me and drops a paper bag in my lap. It’s bigger than I expected.

“Take the burger out before the chocolate melts,” he tells me, reaching into his own bag.

Clicking off my phone, I pocket it and open the bag. He didn’t just bring back lunch, but now I have a bunch of snacks too. “We’re only flying to Florida,” I tease with a grin as I reach for the burger. “It’s a two-hour flight.”

Creed shrugs, his eyes rising as he watches Ethan and Jakub walking our way. I watch them too as I dig into my burger. Ethan always has a smile. Big, happy, ready for anything. Jakub is quieter, more reserved—another Daddy Lucien on the team. Though not to the same capacity. He’s happy to be there for whoever needs something, but his primary focus is always on Ethan and Creed.

Both men’s attention was on each other as they walked closer, but I witness the moment they both spot Creed. Their smiles change into something that’s just for Creed. I know they are because I’ve watched these three closely since barging in on them over break three years ago.

The way they look at each other is sick. It makes my stomach roll.

But not because I hate romance or love or gay men. Because I’m lonely. I’ve spent a very long time alone and dedicated all of my energy to hockey.

Glancing at Creed, I wonder if my single-minded focus on hockey’s been worth the tradeoff. There’s no mistaking the love in his eyes when he looks at either man. I’ve seen this since he was drafted, and it’s grown visibly for years. I saw the same in Ethan. It’s been like watching a live-action Hallmark movie unfold right in front of me.

The thing is, I’ve been around couples my entire life. College was filled with couples and hookup culture. Since I’ve been in the NHL, I’ve seen my teammates and their families, most notably Lucien Medcalf and his wife, and how they take care of all of us. They’re good people, and their love is deep. It’s the kind that everyone can feel and wraps around those close by.

There’s just something about seeing it on Creed, Ethan, and Jakub that makes my stomach twist with longing. Not for any of them. I adore them all—Creed’s my best friend, after all—but their particular brand of love is the kind I dream about.

It’s one of those loves that even the media has fallen in love with. Of course, there are still the polyamory haters and the bigots, but hockey’s sweethearts have now expanded to the three of them. It’s surreal and beautiful.

Not that I want a relationship in the spotlight. Which is part of the reason I’ve remained single and uninterested my entire life. The only focus I want on me is for my hockey career. Or other career related affairs, like my charity work or modeling.

Speaking of modeling. I pull out my phone to give myself a reason to look away from the sappy scene in front of me as Ethan and Jakub join us on Creed’s other side. Logging into my email, I quickly delete all the spam shit until I find a new message from Rigo, my agent at Pride Sports.

I tease him that I should get a commission for all the clients I send his way, so I’m not surprised that the opening line is “Your incentive is getting the right of first refusal with this new line.” I grin, but my stomach flips when I see it’s a Pride line. It’s not that I’m against supporting the LGBTQIA+ community. I’m not. Like at all.

But I’ve been very careful to keep a specific amount of distance between me and that community, so I won’t face accusations. I want it clear that I support them, but that I’m not a part of them.

Not because I secretly don’t support them, but am doing so visibly for my career because I am a part of them and the only person who knows that is me. The idea of coming out to anyone makes me sick to my stomach. Despite the shit that Ethan, Creed, and Jakub went through a few years ago, the world is a much better place for us now.

And it’s constantly getting better too. Thanks to this new generation who will not be content to sit in silence in the closet—unseen and unheard—there’s a movement that’s getting bigger and bigger to accept everyone the way they are. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to agree with it. Just turn the fuck around because it doesn’t concern you.

That’s not the generation I’m in, though. It’s the generation I’m watching with awe. I overheard a conversation at the store the other day between a parent and their kid—eleven, twelve maybe—as they talked about gender. When it came to the point in the conversation where the mom asked what gender they are, the kid looked at her amused and said, “Pfft. Gender doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The mom, slightly baffled, just went with it.

Twenty years ago, the world was a very different place. I keep hoping more people are like the mom and kid in the future. Where things like that don’t matter. When who you are as a person is what matters.

However, that doesn’t change my comfort level about the entire thing. I’m left alone as I am now. Cowardice, privilege, whatever—I don’t want to change that. I want to play hockey and when I’m done and have faded into history, then I’ll find a partner.

Hopefully.

Someone who looks at me the way Ethan, Creed, and Jakub look at each other. Say what you want, but I don’t believe for a second that you can fake that kind of love. Not all the time without slipping up.

“Now boarding Flight A135 to Miami. Now boarding Flight A135 to Miami. We will begin with those who need extra assistance and families with children under two. You may now board.”

I stuff my burger wrapper into the bag and get to my feet with the Bozik household. Yes, we call them the Boziks. I’m not sure why, but I think we all feel that it’s Jakub who’s in charge and takes care of shit.

We hover where we are until the call for priority boarding is announced and make our way through the line. One of my favorite things about this phase of my life is the upgrade in seating. I’m not a huge guy, but whoever thought such little leg space was healthy should be stuffed into a coach seat for three or more hours. Nope. I will only ever fly business or first class. Call me snobby or stuck up if you like; comfort is important.

Besides, I can guarantee that no matter who sits next to me, my seat is my own. There is no invasion of personal space. No touching strangers. It’s worth every damn penny.

I have the window seat with Creed beside me. Across the aisle are Jakub and Ethan. As the plane continues to board, I watch the people working on the tarmac. Driving around in different vehicles, de-icing planes, and loading luggage.

Glancing at the sky, I’m thankful that the weather looks good today. The skies are clear, a crisp blue February day.

“You ready?” Creed asks and I turn my attention to him, reminded of why we’re on the plane to begin with.

When I was invited to the All-Star Games, I nearly declined the invitation. I get that it’s a huge honor and recognition, but I’m slightly spoiled by having been with the same team my entire career. Guys come and go, sure, but this is my home. This is my team. These are the only guys I’ve played with.

The idea of being on another team for even one game is a little intimidating. Okay, it’s a lot intimidating. I’m not entirely sure I really want to do this, even having my friends with me and Ethan being one of the fan-voted players for the event. However, I would have definitely declined had Ethan not been invited too.

“Sure,” I say.

He laughs and shoves me a little. “It’s going to be fine. Promise. You’re going to kick ass and it’s going to be awesome.”

I give him a smile as Jakub reaches across the aisle to hand Creed something. Two square tins. He hands me one with a smirk and opens his. Even though he just ate a burger, there’s another lunch in the tin. Sandwich and chips and even a cookie for dessert.

Mine is the same.

“Jakub doesn’t want us to starve,” Creed says. “Ethan could eat every hour.”

“I’m a growing boy,” Ethan defends, already halfway through the sandwich.

Creed shakes his head as he pulls out half of his. “I’m surprised he isn’t as big as a house.”

I snort and lean forward to look at Jakub. “Thank you,” I tell him when he meets my eyes.

He smiles in return. “You’re welcome.”

Creed leans in. “He’s going to keep you under his wing this whole trip because he knows you’re nervous. The only time you’ll have to be on your own is at night. There’s not enough room in our bed.”

My cheeks flush as I look at him with narrowed eyes. He happily chews his bite, giving me a smirk.

I’m used to his teasing. It’s subtle and definitely just him teasing. Not Creed hinting that he knows my secret. I’m pretty confident I’ve done well to appear as the straight guy who occasionally hooks up when we go to Sceptre or whatever.

If Creed knew, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. I know I could trust him to keep it to himself. Even from his husbands. But… I can’t bring myself to confide in anyone. Ever. Not until I retire, and I don’t have plans for that right now.

Glancing across the aisle, Jakub and Ethan are talking quietly. Their heads bent together, with the sweetest smiles on their faces. Jakub’s fingers touch Ethan’s jaw and I swear I can see Ethan melt a little.

With a sigh, I tear my eyes away, forcing them out the window. I want to be looked at like that. To be that person for someone. I’m not even sure if I have a preference to be the Jakub or the Ethan of a relationship. I just… want.

The flight is short. We’re offered ‘premium’ snacks, which I’m far too stuffed to eat, so I add them to my paper bag that Creed brought back for me at the airport. I’m thankful that the flight is so short; I’m far too restless for a longer flight.

I’m stupidly jittery as we wait for our luggage. If someone didn’t know better and saw me this bouncy, they’d think this was my first time flying. It’s clearly not. Just the unknown that lies ahead. Playing with a brand-new team of guys who are the best of the best.

The honor of being invited is huge. I know that. But damn. I could do without this feeling of ants under my skin.

There’s a shuttle waiting for us once we have our luggage. Which exclusively consists of hockey gear; since all my clothing and other necessities fit into my carry on. It’s easy to pick out the hockey players on the shuttle. I recognize several, and I swear, Ethan knows everyone.

“It’s like he’s long-time friends with everyone,” Creed murmurs to me when Ethan’s moved to the other end of the shuttle to talk to someone. “I don’t even know who that is.”

“Menlo Dexter,” Jakub tells us. “New York Lights.”

“Ah,” I say, giving him another look. Maybe he dyed his hair or something. I remember him differently.

“Some people are hard to recognize outside of their gear,” Creed comments.

“Because their names are on their backs?” Jakub asks, amused.

I laugh.

“Yeah, maybe,” Creed admits, shrugging.

When we’re sitting in Miami traffic, I’m suddenly grateful for the smaller population of Buffalo. It’s not a small city, but it’s not Miami. Then again, Miami doesn’t get seven feet of snow in one measly storm. I suppose there are tradeoffs.

The hotel is just as crowded as everywhere else. I try to remember if this is normal when we fly to Florida, especially in the middle of winter. I understand there are snow birds and shit, but they live here somewhere. They’re not all flocking to the hotels. This is wild.

“Is everyone here for the All-Star Games?” I ask.

“Yes,” Ethan says, smiling as he looks around. “Maybe something else too.” He nods toward a group of what appear to be high school girls. A very large group. And only one of a couple groups like them.

“Cheer competition?” Creed suggests. “Are we in the right time of year for that?”

I shrug. Hockey doesn’t have cheerleaders so for that, and obvious only to me other reasons, I’ve never paid them much attention. “Dunno.”

Ethan checks in first. It sounds like he added Jakub and Creed onto his room beforehand, so he gets through quickly. To keep the line moving, it looks like there are four receptionists working. The one at the far end sounds like she’s being yelled at, which is a little concerning because that person I recognize as a hockey player from the New York Gulls. Then again, they’re always a little hostile.

I’m at the counter and give the woman my name as soon as Ethan steps away.

“All right, Mr. Haines. We have you on the same floor as your teammate. Will your partner be arriving separately, or do you want to hang on to his card?”

I freeze and stare at her as if I didn’t hear her correctly. “What?” I ask. There’s no way I heard her correctly. I couldn’t have.

“Your partner?” she questions, and I can hear the wariness in her voice as she turns back to the screen. “A Mr. Duval?”

No words come out as dread settles through me. Ethan steps back up to the counter and I can feel Creed crowd in on my other side. “What’s wrong?” Ethan asks.

“She says that I’m sharing a room,” I say.

A man steps up behind our lady and gives me a sympathetic smile. But I don’t miss the way his shoulders are tense. “I’m sorry, sir. There’s been a mix-up and some rooms have been doubled up. We’re completely sold out for the night and we’re terribly sorry for the inconvenience this poses.”

“Sorry?” I ask, feeling myself become a little shrill. “You’re sorry that you’ve got me sharing a room with a stranger? That’s your answer?”

“If there’s anything we can do⁠—”

“Yes, there’s something you can do. The league pays for rooms for each individual player. That means me and this Duval are required one room each. Not one room together. Make it right.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” he says again. “We’re overbooked.”

“That’s not my problem,” I snap.

Ethan pulls me away from the counter as Jakub steps up in my place. “Easy, Caulder. Take a breath.”

My hands are shaking. They’re making me share a fucking room!

Jakub comes back with a key card, and I look at him, expecting miracles. But by the way his lips are pressed together, I don’t think he succeeded.

“Come on,” he says, picking up my bag along with his.

There’s a bank of elevators and we get in line with the crowd. “We can make a scene but it’s not going to change the fact that they’re out of rooms. Apparently, this entire city is. The game this weekend and then there are three other big events in town,” Jakub says.

“I can’t⁠—”

Ethan wraps his arm around my shoulders and squeezes me.

Once we’re in the elevator, Jakub turns to look at me. “I know Lo. He’s a good guy. I promise. Just pretend you’re back in college and are traveling with a new team again. He’s a hockey professional, just as you are. It’s going to be fine.”

“Can I sue them?” I ask, grumpily. Honestly, it would be far too much energy to do that.

Ethan chuckles, but he doesn’t let me go. I’m thankful for his hug, though. It’s keeping me grounded.

The elevator opens to our floor and the guys drop me at my door.

“We’ll grab you on the way to dinner,” Jakub says.

I nod. Creed squeezes my wrist as they continue further down the hall. Not too much further. Two more doors and across the hall.

Knowing they’re close gives me the courage to open the door and step into the room. It’s a nice room. Thankfully. But as I move further in, I see that there’s just one king bed.

Seriously?! Fuck, I want to cry in frustration right now.

CHAPTER 2

LAURENT “LO” DUVAL

As soon as the plane touches down, I open Thrustr to see who’s around. Miami is full of hot guys. There’s only one criteria—cannot be a hockey fan.

I lean back in my seat and wait for the location to update. I swipe to my profile and look at the profile picture. I’m always examining the picture to make sure it’s as non-descript as possible. No birthmarks, no freckles, no tattoo! I remember the Felton Badcock fiasco from this fall all too clearly.

Not that I’m running a ReachMe account. That’s a little too freeballing for me. I’m not into people watching what I do. Nor do I want a camera on me recording my performance, judging me. Nah, I’m good.

But I do like the occasional anonymous hookup when I travel. Especially when I’m far away from home, where I’m less likely to be recognized.

As soon as my location populates, my phone vibrates in my hand and a little red dot appears to tell me I have a message. I swipe to find a couple. Clicking on the first, I check the profile. Call me weird, but I don’t like them too young. It’s awkward. They need to at least be my age—mid-twenties—or older. I don’t want to feel like I’m fucking a high school kid.

This one’s cute enough, so I tap into the conversation.

Hi

Very original. I don’t need someone with master conversational skills since this is all about getting off, but I need something more than a basic greeting. Like you looking for the weather or a fuck?

You visiting or local?

Visiting. Hbu

Business trip. What brings you here?

Game tomorrow

Yep, gonna have to pass. Have a nice night.

Yeah, instant block. Not taking a chance there. Not even going to wait for a response. Next profile is far too young, and looks far too much like my younger brother. So much so that I click the profile just to make sure it’s not. Not that I care if he’s on here, but why would he be in Miami?

The third looks promising though. I click into the DM.

Hey, nice body. I can host.

See? Now that’s right to the point.

Visiting or local?

Local. Why?

Sports fan?

haha no. I can maybe get down with some role play if that’s what you’re into but I’m going to need some coaching. Ohh look at the pun I made.

I grin.

I have an obligation so I might be a little late. 

Since I’m still at work, later is fine.

Finding hookups while on the clock. Cute.

That’s as close as I come to getting paid for whoring it up.

I snort and close down the app. Now that I have my potential for the night, I can concentrate on getting off this plane. My favorite thing about being at the front of the plane is that I’m one of the first off. There’s very little I hate more than hanging around and waiting for people to get their shit together and move.

I’m told I’m an impatient man, and I don’t deny it.

The airport is crowded. Excessively so. It’s the end of February, for fuck’s sake. What’s with all these people traveling?

By the time I get my checked bag and head outside to the shuttle, I’m frustrated with people all over. Crowding around. No manners. Very little spatial awareness. Americans, man. Rude as fuck everywhere you go.

At least the shuttle seems to be filled with primarily hockey players, for which I’m grateful. I recognize many, though I don’t give anyone more than a nod in acknowledgement. I’ve been outpeopled today and that’s without conversing. A day of travel will do that to you.

The hotel is just as miserable. I swear, there’s a bigger clusterfuck here than there was at the airport. There’s someone yelling at one of the receptionists. My gaze trains there and I absently watch as the line moves slowly. Really fucking slowly.

It’s been almost forty minutes by the time I make it to the desk and am standing in front of a gentleman. I give him my name, and he taps around on his computer for a minute then sighs. Glancing at his face, I see the wariness there.

“Welcome, Mr. Duval.” He butchers my name but at this point in my life, I’ve mostly given up on correcting it. “Your room is ready, and your partner is already checked in.”

My eyes narrow. “I’m sorry. I thought you said my partner has checked in, which I know is a mistake since I don’t have a partner, nor am I sharing a room with anyone.”

Yep, that wariness isn’t imagined. “My deepest apologies, sir. There’s been some confusion and the hotel is overbooked. We’ve paired up some of the event rooms to accommodate.”

“That’s the wrong answer,” I say, irritated. “If a franchise like the NHL pays for 100 rooms, you don’t get to take their money and only give them 90 rooms. This is your problem; not one to be pushed onto the rest of us. If you’ve overbooked, then you cancel the most recent bookings and give them a refund—maybe double their refund since you fucked up and now they’re scrambling. That’s how you do business.”

“I can get a manager,” he responds.

“You do that.”

There are two managers and both of them are at reception, dealing with two different irate customers. I do not move over for someone else, but I do concentrate on what they’re saying and so I hear everything they’re going to tell me when one of them gets here.

They’re sorry. Yes, it’s their fault. Yes, they’ll be in contact with the league to make it right. They have located some local rooms at a Motel 6 or a Red Roof Inn down the road if we’d like to be moved there at no cost to us. Yes, they understand that it’s not a comparable room, but the local hotels are completely booked this weekend due to all the events in the city.

On and on and on.

If the more expensive places are booked, I have no doubt that these supposed free rooms they’ve found are also booked and they’re blowing smoke out of their ass.

A woman joins the gentleman I was dealing with and waits for the barrage from me that she’s doubtlessly received from several others at this point. I wonder just how much they actually overbooked this place. How does that even happen?!

“I expect compensation and I will make a suggestion that the league no longer does business with your hotel chain for your massive irresponsibility in overbooking so erroneously.”

“We’re terribly sorry, sir.”

“I’m sure. I’ll take my card.” Both sag a little in relief.

The thing is, yelling at them isn’t going to make me feel better, nor is it going to fix the situation. I’ve heard all they have to say and having them repeat it isn’t going to change their message or the outcome.

Besides, I’m confident this isn’t something either of them did personally. Probably no one on shift right now. Since bookings are all done electronically now, I have to assume that there’s something wrong behind the scenes with their software. A glitch.

“Thank you, sir,” the manager says. “Please let us know if you need anything.”

I give her a bemused look and she smiles wanly. Words she’s supposed to say, but obviously can’t fulfill.

The gentleman gives me my keycard, I throw my bag over my shoulder and leave the front as I hear another voice rise. The bank of elevators is crowded, and it takes them coming back half a dozen times before I’m able to get into one.

The floor is blessedly quiet as I walk to my room. Belatedly, I realize I should have asked who my ‘partner’ was. I should have asked anything at all.

Instead, we’re leaving it a surprise as I scan my card and the door gives its little beep as the lock releases. I see the hockey bag right away. There’s at least the comfort of knowing this is a hockey player and not some random schmo.

I step inside and let the door close behind me. Dropping my own gear bag next to his, I spot the single bed. Of course. And me, who sleeps nude, has nothing to wear tonight. Maybe I’ll be stopping at a store on my way back from hooking up.

I don’t see him until I’m at the edge of the bed. He’s standing between the side and the wall, his eyes wide as he stares at the spot I now occupy.

Caulder Haines. Fuck. Me. It’s not like I’ve watched him since I first ran into him on the ice years ago. The man is gorgeous. Like, seriously. And then he gets put on billboards in his underwear for the world to see and… yeah.

This is going to be a very long weekend.

“Hey,” I greet. He startles and blinks a few times, his cheeks flushing. It doesn’t take a genius to see that this man is very uncomfortable. “I’m Laurent Duval. Most people call me Lo.”

Caulder nods. Then he seems to visibly shake himself out of it and approaches to take my hand. “Caulder Haines. Uh… Buffalo.”

I grin. “Yeah, I know.”

“Oh?” he asks, eyebrows knitting together.

Jesus. He’s adorable. “Yes. We’ve been playing against each other for years.”

“Well. I guess. But I don’t have everyone in the league memorized.”

“Then you’re behind,” I tease as I walk around the bed. “Is the bed comfortable?” I ask, pressing my hand against the mattress as I do.

“I, uh… don’t know. I just got here.”

“You want that side?”

Peeking at him, I find Caulder glancing at the bed as if it’s diseased. Are there bed bugs? We should check. At the slightly green look on his skin, I pause. “You okay?”

Caulder takes a breath and nods. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… irritated.”

“Mmm.” Definitely agree with that. The whole thing is bullshit. But I get to share a bed with Caulder Haines. That’ll be enough fodder for at least a month when this is over. “If it helps, they’re sorry.”

That seems to break the tension a little. He huffs and sits on the side of the bed, rolling his eyes. “Sorry… I’ve never hated the word so much.”

I join him, sitting on the opposite side of the bed. “This is nice. I’m going to demand a lot of compensation. Caviar. Champagne. Midnight snacks that force them to run out. All at no charge, of course. After all, they’ve made the equivalent of another room off the two of us since they were paid for two and we’re only occupying one.”

“Will they do all that?” Caulder asks. “Bring you what you want?”

Shrugging, I scooch down the bed and lean back, putting my hands behind my head. Caulder is sitting stiffly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Dunno. As I was waiting down there to check in, three of the four receptionists were dealing with this doubling up mess. This is a pretty massive hotel so I’m seriously wondering how many rooms they’ve overbooked. Like, shouldn’t there have been some reports that tipped someone off? Oh, you have 850 guests checking in and we only have 300 rooms. But that’s cool.”

Caulder snorts, and his shoulders relax a little. While he doesn’t really get comfortable on the bed, he leans back against the headboard. He’s barely on the bed. Like one butt cheek. 

It’s clear he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, and this is incredibly uncomfortable for him. So telling him I sleep naked and didn’t plan for a roommate is probably not what I should lead with next.

“There were that many issues downstairs?” he asks.

I nod. “I don’t know if all the customers with issues happened to arrive at once, or if there are just that many or maybe they’re simply taking a long time to yell it out when the employees have given their only solution.”

“I asked if I could sue them,” Caulder tells me. I smile at the amusement in his voice. “It seems like such a hassle though. I’m sure they have some huge lawyer team or whatever.”

“Agreed. Probably a waste of time. But I plan to be a very loud advocate for the NHL not using their hotel chain. Even if that means I need to pay for my own rooms on the road during the season. They need to understand there are consequences for their actions.”

“That’s a good idea. Fuck knows we make enough to pay for the rooms, though we shouldn’t have to.”

“If I have to take a guess, I would wager that most of the players here are experiencing the same shit we are. We’re not going to be the only pissed off people that leave here this weekend.”

“A player from every team,” he muses, “all demanding accommodations elsewhere. Even if the league would initially brush it off with a refund and apologies or whatever else, we’re the ones being treated as if our privacy and safety aren’t their concern.”

“I’m not entirely surprised that they buddied up the hockey players. We are strangers to some extent, but at the same time, we’re all also coworkers and acquaintances. The safest thing they could have done under these circumstances is buddy up the NHL instead of actual, complete strangers. Can you imagine the horrors that would arise from that?”

Caulder cringes.

“Then, we have a single bed. What’s happening in the double rooms? They have two beds so do they quadruple up?”

“I would think that they’re already doubled up, so they’d double up a second double room into theirs, maybe.”

“And then quadruple the one they just opened by doing so,” I say.

“Ah.”

This talk seems to have put him at ease. Caulder is more fully on the bed, though I’m sure he’s still at the very edge. But he’s not nearly as tense as he’d been. He’s talking easily and I even caught a smile.

That is, until the conversation dwindles into nothing. I could keep the hotel talk going, but I’m already exhausted by it. And honestly, what am I going to do about it? Remain pissed off and make this situation worse by making Caulder uncomfortable because I’m angry at something he’s suffering through too?

However, now that we’re settled in with the situation a bit and gotten to talk, I think it’ll be a little easier.

And then there’s a knock at the door. Caulder looks at me and I can see the dread in his face.

“Did they just triple up?” he hisses.

“I’m going to lose my shit if they have,” I answer and get off the bed and head to the door. “There’s only so far we can be pushed and that’s crossing a fucking line.”

CHAPTER 3

CAULDER

My entire body is still as Lo heads for the door. What the fuck are we going to do if they try to stick in a third guy? Sure, the bed is big enough but fuck. No. Absolutely not! I won’t allow that. I won’t⁠—

As my stomach is ready to heave, I hear Lo say, “Bozik. Hey, man.”

The relief that floods me feels like I was just doused with water. It’s so intense that I shiver, but I don’t move as I listen to the two of them.

“Hey,” Jakub greets. “Have you met my husbands? This is Ethan and Creed.”

I’m used to Jakub’s accent by now, and think it’s really fucking hot. But now that I’m sitting back here, hiding behind a wall where Lo can’t see me, I can fully appreciate his, too. I’m not sure what it is, but I think it’s French? Does he look French?

What am I saying? What do French people look like?

Whatever it is, it’s really… I don’t even have words. Sexy. His voice is low, kind of deep. Melodic. The way English sounds with his accent is just… sexy. Yep. That’s the word.

“Caulder in here or did you kick him out?” Ethan asks.

That’s my cue to get to my feet. I jump up, run a hand through my hair and then cringe. I hope it doesn’t look like I have bedhead now! Oof.

More relief floods me when I actually see them. Once again, I’m thankful for their presence on this trip.

Creed gives me a smile, but I can see the concern and question in his eyes. Am I okay? I incline my head. Jakub was right; Lo seems cool.

As I approach—now that I’m not ready to jump out of my skin—I realize just how attractive Lo is. His hair is brown, short, and kind of messy. Like he doesn’t give a shit and lets it do whatever. When he shifts to let me at the door, our eyes meet and his are simply breathtaking. I’ve never seen eyes so light. They’re blue gray, but so light that they’re almost white.

His lips are quirked, perfect. His jaw has a hint of stubble. Through the black-button down that’s unbuttoned at the top, I catch a black cord around his neck that disappears behind the fabric.

I look away, meeting Creed’s gaze instead. My heart races, but I try to hide it. While it’s fine to admit others are attractive, it’s more difficult for me when I’m stuck in close proximity to them.

“Ready?” Ethan asks.

I nod.

“You have plans, Lo?” Jakub questions.

Lo nods. “Getting together with the Pacific Division team.”

“Ah. That’s what we’re doing,” Ethan says. “Not Pacific, but Atlantic. The better of the oceans.”

Lo snorts. “Right. Not that either of us are located on the ocean.”

“I much rather take the ocean,” Creed adds. “Lake effect is wild. I think the lakes are trying to kill us.”

Ethan nods.

Their jokes make me smile.

“Meanwhile, I’m in the middle of the desert. Seattle is on the coast and they’re not in the Pacific divisions, but Central. Someone was drunk when they were splitting us into divisions,” Lo says.

Ethan grins.

“Catch you later,” Jakub says.

Lo nods. As I walk by, his eyes meet mine again and I swear, I feel a charge pass between us. It must just be because I have to walk so close to him, not for any other reasons. As soon as I can manage, I look away. Swallowing.

Damn.

I ignore the way my body heats as I step into the hall.

“You have your key?” Lo asks.

There’s a strange domestic feeling about the question, and I turn my head in his direction but can’t bring myself to look in his eyes again. He’s far too attractive to keep looking at. “Yeah,” I answer, then stick my hand in my pocket to be sure. Feeling it there, I nod again. “Thanks.”

Lo nods. “See you later.”

I mimic his nod. “Yep. Later.”

We’re a few steps down the hall before I hear the door close. Glancing back, I assure myself that he’s back inside. Jesus, I need to get a hold of myself.

“Everything okay?” Creed asks.

“Yes. It’s fine. He’s a nice guy. This is just weird.”

“It is. Hopefully you two get along and it’s not awkward the whole weekend.”

I wave him off. “It’ll be fine.” Once I get over the fact that he’s hot. It took me by surprise when I got close to him since I’d been so concentrated on not freaking the fuck out when he walked into the room to begin with.

It hadn’t mattered who he was or what he looked like then. Only that I didn’t know him, and I was going to be forced to share a bed with a stranger. A man.

Although now it might be worse. He’s not just a stranger and a man, but a man I’m attracted to. Awesome.

“I’d offer you to stay with us, but a king bed is already a little snug for three guys. Not sure we could squish in a fourth,” Ethan admits. “Unless you’re super into cuddling and don’t mind an errant dick pressed against you from time to time.”

“Generous,” I deadpan, glancing at him with a frown. “I’ll… deal with it. It’s fine.”

Maybe if I say it enough times, it’ll be fine. It will be fine.

There’s still chaos in the lobby. The yelling at the reception hasn’t stopped. I don’t even feel bad. Maybe someone should have figured this out before hundreds of people flocked to check in. Not only do they have their fuck up to deal with (and being yelled at), but they also have cranky guests waiting a really long time to check in who are angry when they get to the front before even getting bad news .

Okay, I feel a little bad. I don’t think these particular employees are the cause of the fuck up. But whatever. Not my concern.

Thankfully, there’s a car waiting for us when we make it downstairs. 

“I’m starving,” Ethan says as we climb into the car.

I look at him incredulously. “You haven’t stopped eating since I met you at the airport.”

“He has three stomachs,” Jakub teases.

“And the one under his abs is broken since his stomach stays flat,” Creed mutters.

I laugh, shaking my head.

The restaurant is, shockingly, not as crowded as literally everywhere else we’ve been. Even with the half dozen hockey players already there, it’s blessedly peaceful.

Between Jakub and Ethan, they know all six of the guys. I recognize Link Jördik from Florida and Stark Meierklein from Boston. As I’m sitting at the table listening to them talk, not for the first time I marvel at how diverse hockey can be. At this table, I’m listening to Czech, Austrian, German, and… I think Imanov is Russian. The name sounds Russian. He’s hardly said anything, so I’m just guessing right now since I don’t have a clear accent to identify.

You don’t see it a lot in high school. Even on state teams, there’s mostly American kids around unless you’re close to Canada or a place with an exchange program or something. I didn’t have that. I grew up in the south. Enough said.

“I see you’ve been playing defense,” Link says to me, his Austrian accent thicker than I remember.

I nod, shrugging. “I was recruited as a diverse player, bouncing between defense and offense, though even in college I stuck to offense a lot since that’s where the need was. I think Buffalo kept me on offense once Creed arrived because they were hoping I would magick up with Ethan and Creed.”

Link snorts. “Not likely.”

Grinning, I shrug. “Yeah, exactly. We had an injury during a game last year and Coach put me on defense. I guess he was happy with what he saw.”

“It’s good,” Links comments. “We will make a good team.”

“We know who our goalies are yet?” Ethan asks.

“You could have read the email,” Creed deadpans.

Ethan shrugs.

“Fournier from Montreal and Davies from Ottawa,” Stark offers. “Good goalies. Not as good as Boston.” His German accent has faded some since the last time I spoke to him. 

“Not as good as Buffalo!” Ethan says.

“No Badcock this game,” Link cheers. “We have a better chance when the goalie isn’t as big as the goal.”

I laugh. Yeah, Felton definitely fills the net.

“He’s going to love that you miss him,” Ethan says.

“Who’re the other goalies?” I ask.

“Mmm,” Stark starts. “Dayne and Gibbon for Pacific. Trustein on Metro. Drick is Central…. Those are names I remember.”

“Ohh, Azure’s here!” Ethan says. “Have you ever looked into that man’s eyes when you try to score on him? It’s like someone walking over your grave, holding your soul down and bringing a knife through your lungs all at the same time.”

“Pleasant,” I mutter.

“I do not look in goalie’s eyes,” Stark says. “They’re all a special kind of crazy.”

“I don’t know. I think Asael’s pretty cool,” I comment, referring to one of our goalies.

“Asael is weird for not being weird,” Stark says.

We laugh.

It isn’t long before the rest of the Atlantic team joins us. I hear more names dropped concerning who’s been spotted so far. Ethan keeps announcing people when he looks at his phone. Eventually, Creed leans into me and says, “He has a chat with the Gays Can Play guys. I think they’re all checking in when they get here.”

“Are they all here?” I ask.

Creed shakes his head and shrugs. “Dunno. However, so many of the best players in the league are LGBTQIA+. I think that says a lot.”

“And Max was voted in,” Ethan says. “Also says a lot. Especially after everything he’s been through.”

“Max Latham is great player, he should be here,” Link insists.

“I agree,” Ethan says.

The first order of drinks arrives and as soon as I take a sip, the burning liquid down my throat makes me shiver. I can feel my skin heat as it always does with the first few sips of anything alcoholic, be it a wine cooler or a shot of whiskey, but following that first heat, my body relaxes, and I enjoy myself.

I’m not big on social engagements. Being an introvert means I talk to people I get close with and, while I’ll talk to people who talk to me, I don’t voluntarily get involved in conversations. When the table fills and I’m surrounded, I enjoy the meal as I listen to everyone else.

It’s a good time and I’m glad I went. I definitely wouldn’t have liked it much if I didn’t have my teammates here too. Hell, I’m more convinced now that I’m here that the moment reception told me I was sharing a room, I’d have turned around and gone home had my friends not been here to talk me down.

Okay, no I wouldn’t have. Because I would have let the team down. But had Ethan not been invited, I’m positive I’d have declined. This is far too many unfamiliar people. Far too many people that I constantly have to pretend around.

As it inevitably does, the conversation eventually turns to personal lives and they’re all talking about wives and girlfriends and shit. I sit resolutely quiet, balancing between nodding along to their conversation and trying to be invisible so they don’t ask me.

Lying has gotten easier. I hook up when I’m interested. Otherwise, I’d rather just play hockey right now. When really pressed, I have flings in the summer to pass the time. Some pretty girl I pick up on the beach or something.

Thankfully, I’m believable enough and the conversation moves on, and I’m feeling good by the time we get back to the hotel room. My belly is full, my chest is warm, and I’m less stressed than I had been.

Until I step into my room and promptly walk into the wall with absolutely zero reason to, I realize that maybe I’ve had one too many drinks. I’m not drunk, but I am tipsy. Since I don’t drink often, it’s obvious when I am.

Shutting the door and then tugging on the handle far too many times than necessary to make sure it’s good and latched and won’t just swing open, I turn for the room and stop. It’s dark. My heart races when I think maybe I’m not alone.

I tiptoe further in, which is a fail since that’s more coordination than I have right now, and practically fall over our bags. If Lo’s asleep, he’s awake now. But when I look up, the bed is empty. Only rumpled at the very sides where we’d been sitting earlier.

Taking a breath, I grab my carry on and head into the bathroom. Since I didn’t take a shower once we got here to get the airport off me, I turn on the water and then stand underneath with my eyes closed for far too long.

By the time I step out and wrap a towel around my waist, I feel less tipsy. Less sluggish. Now I’m just looser. More relaxed and optimistic. This will be fine. I’m not sure why I was worried at all.

I brush my teeth and then step into clean underwear. That’s where I pause because that’s all I brought to sleep in. The shorts I brought aren’t the kind that would be comfortable in bed. Wrong material. Far too thick, with no give.

My options are few. I could try Lo’s idea and demand that the hotel staff go get me some bed clothes. This is their fault that I’m faced with sleeping in my underwear with a strange man in my bed. A very hot strange man.

Peeking out the bathroom door, I look around the room. It’s just as I left it. No more lights on. No movement. No sound. I’m still alone.

If I quickly climb into bed, then it’s not a big deal. He won’t know. I can sneak out in the morning and get dressed before he even wakes up. Decision made, I close my bag and shove it into the closet before hurrying into bed and under the covers.

A sigh escapes and I close my eyes. With any luck, I’ll be passed out before he gets here. Then I won’t have to face him at all.

Luck is not my friend this trip. No sooner do I hunker down under the blankets than I hear the beep of the door and the lock click. My eyes snap open and my breath freezes in my lungs. The door opens, then closes. I hear the locks click into place and then his shadow walks further in. He pauses, so he’s nothing more than a black mass with the light of the bathroom behind me.

I should have turned off that light.

“You awake?” he asks, voice quiet.

I nod. Realizing he probably can’t see it, I answer, “Yeah.”

“Cool. I locked up.”

“O-okay.”

Maybe I imagined it, but I think he might have smiled. He turns away and disappears into the light. I hope he hurries and comes back.

Oh no. No, no, no. Maybe the drinks were a bad idea. I say things when I feel loosey goosey like this. Bad. Idea!

CHAPTER 4

LO

I imagined the way he looked at me, right? On his way out the door. And the way he didn’t meet my eyes after? Sighing, I step back into the room. Here I thought we’d gotten somewhere.

Caulder’s always been kind of a quiet person from what I’ve observed. Not that I’ve paid a lot of concentrated attention to him. Just when he’s around—games and common events, mostly. I can’t tell if this is shyness or something else. Very clearly he’s uncomfortable sharing a room and bed.

Strange, since I’m guessing he’s played hockey most of his life. There’s zero doubt in my mind he’s shared both over the years. High schools can’t afford individual rooms for all their players each game. Some colleges can’t either. Hotels always fuck up and the single bed thing happens on occasion.

There’s a chance that it’s me, maybe he doesn’t like me. Frowning, I turn to drag my carry on onto the bed and open it, looking for a change of clothes and my bathroom bag. I stay out of the news so it’s not like Caulder’s seen me there with something scandalous or anything. While I’m admittedly impatient as a person and for stupidity, I don’t think I’m unkind or anything.

I used to have a massive resting bitch face, but I’m pretty sure I managed to curb that after I started talking to the press, so that can’t be it either. The idea that I somehow already made him uncomfortable doesn’t sit well with me.

But for right now, I can’t do anything about it. He’s with his teammates and I have an All-Star team to meet up and eat with. It’s been hours since lunch and I’m hungry. It doesn’t take much for me to get hangry these days.

The Pacific team chose a restaurant within walking distance to the hotel. I recognize Lamar Gibbon from Anaheim just outside the door and quicken my pace to catch up. He grins when I fall in line next to him.

“Hey, Lo,” he greets, smiling. “Glad you could make it.”

“Don’t rub it in that you’re here like every year.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m here as a fan vote. Not as an All-Star invitation.”

“Personally, I think that’s cooler. You have fans that want to see you here! Clearly a rabid number of them.”

Lamar grins. “Okay, yeah that’s cool.”

“How many goals you planning to score this year?”

He gives me a careless shrug as he looks around. “I only make attempts when they’re open. So I suppose that depends on the teams we play and how often they decide to pull their goalies and leave the net wide open.”

“It’s a risky move.”

“I understand the advantage when they do it. But I’ve seen some really stupid shit go down and some ridiculously easy goals that could have been prevented by a toddler if they’d just left the goalie where he belongs.”

We step into the restaurant as he’s describing a goal that he made and how it shouldn’t have happened, but their opponent was being dumb. It sounds to me like he only scores those goals on teams he deems are playing stupidly.

There’s a handful of people here already. Their conversation isn’t about hockey but the mess happening at the hotel.

“Lix told her right where to go when she tried to put another player in my room with us. He leaned over the counter and asked, ‘do you think they’re going to enjoy watching us have sex in the same bed?’” Noah Kain says, laughing.

“He didn’t say that,” Brian Teethis says.

“He did,” Azure Dayne confirms. “It was entertaining to see the woman turn lobster red.”

“So the trick was to tell them you have an actual partner and force their hand,” Lamar muses. “I suppose it’s a little late for that now.”

“I’ve already seen this fiasco all over ShareIt,” Noah comments, shaking his head. “There are some very loud, angry guests here—a lot of which are hockey players.”

“Airing dirty laundry,” Lamar says, dropping into a chair.

Noah shrugs. “Whatever. This is a major liability suit they have on their hands right now. I’ve seen no less than three petitions to take away their licenses and shit. One massive class action lawsuit from the parents of high school kids who are here for a competition. It’s going to get really ugly.”

“I’ve been wondering just how badly they overbooked,” I add. “Sounds like it’s a lot of rooms.”

“I haven’t met anyone who hasn’t had an issue,” Noah says. “I’m actually a little curious to know what happened to the person who they had assigned to share a room with me. Does that mean they tripled someone up?”

I snort because Caulder and I were just talking about that.

We keep up this conversation as the rest of the team arrives. I’m sipping on my second drink, something blended and refreshing, dangerous in flavor because you can’t taste the alcohol, by the time we finally order food.

Conversation then turns to hockey gossip. What’s happening behind the headlines and the truth to the stories. I’m reminded of the shit that went down several years ago now with Max Latham. That video and still images were plastered everywhere. And Max simply vanished. More recently, just this season, there was the accusation against Felton Badcock for having a ReachMe account based on a tattoo.

It wasn’t even a particularly unique tattoo. In fact, there was a thread that blew up of people posting their star tattoos right where ‘Felton’s’ was. And there were thousands of people who went out and got an identical one in the exact same place in support of Felton.

Not that it’s been confirmed beyond a doubt that it was Felton. Still. Months later.

We talk about Felton for a bit and Noah tells us that he’s doing better than he was a couple months ago, but what the outside noise doesn’t understand or care about is how this kind of thing really fucks with a person.

Felton’s situation was a lot like Max’s and yet, very, very different. Both led to the men plastered all over the internet having breakdowns. Max has come out of it and he’s in a really great place, while Felton is still trying to climb his way out.

We talk until it’s late and the restaurant closes before meandering back to the hotel. The cool air against my skin clears some of the alcohol fog. I didn’t drink a lot, but I rarely drink so there’s a little bit of mental sluggishness lingering. By the time I’m stepping back into the hotel—where there’s still someone yelling at reception—I’m feeling basically normal. Like I hadn’t drank at all. Just a few sips.

As the group I’m with begins climbing into elevators, we’re making bets about how many receptionists quit working for the hotel because of today. One or two mix ups and bad experiences is one thing. But it’s been a non stop barrage since I got here from what I’ve seen and heard. And I was not one of the first here.

My stomach flips as I stand at the hotel room door and stare at it. Is Caulder in there? I adjust my pants and frown. Really, I should have gone to fuck the local guy instead of coming back with a chubby for my gorgeous roommate. Who’s clearly already uncomfortable with me.

Taking a breath, I give my dick a mental pep talk. Not an encouraging one. This is more on the lines of, be good and I’ll let you be happy tomorrow. Bribing my dick rarely works, but it’s an attempt.

My keycard lets me in, and I find the room dark except for the light spilling in from the ajar bathroom door. It’s quiet. Silent. I shut the door quietly, not letting it slam shut like everyone else. Then flip all the locks before stepping further into the room.

When I get to the edge of the wall where I can see the bed, I can’t tell if I’m elated he’s here or disappointed he’s already asleep. There’s no movement or sounds.

“You awake?” I ask, keeping my voice low so I don’t wake him if he’s asleep.

There’s a bit of quiet rustling before he answers, “Yeah.”

“Cool. I locked up.”

“O-okay.”

The obvious shyness in his voice makes me smile as I back away and head into the bathroom where I strip down and brush my teeth. Wash my hands and face. Then pause on my way out, glancing at my cock in the mirror. Still working on getting hard like the bitch he is.

But that’s not what makes me pause. I can’t just crawl into bed naked with Caulder. That’s very clearly crossing a lot of lines. Clothes are also out for multiple reasons, but the two biggest are you just don’t wear street clothes in bed and the second is that I get tangled in them and feel like I’m being restrained and choked.

Underwear it is, I guess. I step back into my boxer briefs, arrange my dick so it’s in the least offensive position I can manage. Then shut off the light before I open the door, and step out of the bathroom. I’m plunged into darkness, so I wait for my eyes to adjust before walking across the room.

I grab the remote from the TV table on the way and climb into bed on the opposite side as Caulder. He doesn’t move. I don’t even hear him breathing.

I’m wide awake. Unsurprising. I’m far too aware that Caulder is just feet away from me. I turn my head so I can look at him and grin when I see that he has the blankets tucked up under his chin. His eyes are wide open, too. I can see the reflection of the outside lights barely touch them.

“Want to watch TV?” I ask.

Caulder sighs like he’s been holding his breath. “Yeah, sure.”

Bringing up the remote, I turn the television on, then arrange a couple pillows so I’m propped up a little. As I wait for it to come up, I look at Caulder again. He hasn’t moved.

“You have fun with your temporary team?” I ask.

He nods, his eyes flickering to mine. “Yeah, they’re cool.”

“Anyone you’d already known?”

“In passing, yeah.”

“No past teammates?”

Caulder shrugs and shakes his head. “No. I mean, besides Ethan. You have one of our previous teammates. Mattias Jönsson. He was traded for Jakub.”

“Right,” I say, sitting up a little. “He’s cool.”

Finally, Caulder smiles a little. “He is. We’re hoping to catch up with him at some point this weekend.”

I begin flipping through channels, waiting for each program to come on or the information to load. It seems we get one or the other first, but not always the same from channel to channel. I settle on what appears to be a movie and set the remote between us on the bed.

“This your first All-Star?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah. You?”

“Yep. I was invited one other time a couple years ago but my grandfather was sick; I had to turn it down so I could be there in case he passed.”

“Did he?”

“No. Not then. He has since from the same illness, but I’m glad I went home then. He was more lucid and himself for the days I was there than he had been in years. It was the right decision to skip All-Star, though I was bummed at the time.”

“I’m sorry he passed.”

“Eh. I miss him, but he was sick for a very long time. It’s nice to know he’s no longer suffering. More than anything, it’s a relief, even as heartbreaking as it is that he’s gone.”

Caulder nods. “My parents were really young when they had me, so I haven’t had to watch someone I love die yet. Although now that everyone’s getting older, I anticipate that I’ll no longer be so lucky in the next decade. My grandmother was just diagnosed with the start of Alzheimer’s.”

“Oh, that sucks. Sorry, man.”

He smiles lightly. “It hasn’t been horrible yet. She was only diagnosed a month ago and there’s some experimental treatment that she’s going through—which sounds terrifying, though I’m aware that all treatments are experimental in the beginning. So far there’s still only moments here and there.”

“Out of all the diseases and shit in the world, anything having to do with memory seems like one of the cruelest. You live an entire lifetime and then suddenly, you don’t know who surrounds you. Where you are, who you are. Sometimes you don’t know how to talk or walk or anything. And there’s no true treatments.”

“Yeah.”

I glance at him and wince. “Sorry. That’s not the kind of thing you should be thinking about when you just told me about your grandmother. Let’s ignore I said that.”

He laughs quietly.

“How about something more lighthearted? How’s the snow in Buffalo?”

His laughter is louder this time and I love the sound. It makes me smile and I find myself grinning at him. He’s shifted a little closer to me now, his body angled in my direction as we talk. There’s still an ocean between us, but I don’t get the impression he’s hanging off the side of the bed anymore.

“Not bad right now,” he says. “That can change in an instant, but when I left, the sky was clear and the snow was contained.”

“Contained. Nice.”

“That’s the most you can do. Make mountains and hope that all the salt mixed in with it doesn’t kill the ground or pollute the lake when the mountain melts.”

I shake my head. “You’d think with all the technology in the world, we’d have a better way of managing snow.”

“I’m sure there are a lot better ways, but salting is the cheapest, so that’s what cities use.”

“Isn’t that the truth.”

We’re quiet for a minute, our attention moving to the television. I don’t know what we’re watching. The guy is in a hall, throwing open doors as he storms on. He looks a little… crazy. Is he on a murdering spree? Is he going to find a dead body? Is he looking for his child? What’s going on right now?

“Are you familiar with this movie?” I ask.

Caulder shakes his head. “No idea what this is.”

The question of what he’s looking for is finally answered. I want to celebrate for him when he finds the girl that he was obviously desperate to locate, but then they start making out. Heavily. Groping as clothes start coming off.

And that’s the end of this movie. I sit up to reach for the remote as sexy sounds start filling the room from the television. A glance at Caulder tells me that he definitely doesn’t want to watch this with me right now either.

However, the remote is being evasive. We’ve barely moved but, apparently, we’ve shifted enough that the blankets have now eaten the remote. Caulder sits up now too, pulling the blankets up to look under them.

“Remotes need bells,” I mutter, skin heating as the sounds get louder. From both characters on the screen. “Since when is full on sex allowed in movies on American TV?”

He huffs, shifting to reach under the pillows between us. It’s a particularly long moan from the guy that makes my blood burn and my dick fill. I shudder, the sensation moving down my body in a wave. The girl’s sounds do nothing for me except that they’re sexy sounds right now and that alone, especially when I’m not watching the female bits, has a way of heightening the mood.

I twist, ready to get off the bed and manually turn off the television, when our shoulders bump together. Caulder’s head shifts at the same time mine does and we’re staring at each other. Inches apart, so I can feel his breath on my lips.

He swallows. Eyes dropping. Before I can think better of it, I lean forward and press my mouth to his. 

CHAPTER 5

CAULDER

Everything in my body seizes up when Lo’s mouth touches mine. I freeze, eyes wide, lips barely parted as his press against mine.

Ohmigod. OHMIGOD!

When I don’t respond, Lo backs up. Not a lot, but there’s a breath of space between us now. I suck in a shaky breath as my head spins. I don’t want him to stop kissing me. I just don’t want him to kiss me, either. He’ll see through all the lies if he kisses me.

His fingers gently feather across my cheek and a phantom breeze has me swaying forward so our mouths touch again. This time, Lo truly kisses me. It’s not just our mouths touching. Resting against each other.

This time, his lips mold to mine. Move against mine. His fingers become a little bolder, advancing from feather-soft to gentle as they trail my jaw toward my hairline.

I think I’m mostly rigid at first. Unsure what to do. I can’t do this and yet… I don’t stop it. I don’t want to stop it. My mind wars back and forth, which I know is making me truly suck at this. Lo is doing all the work right now.

Pulling away an inch, I take a deep breath, hold it in my lungs until they burn, and let it out.

“Caulder—”

Before he can finish whatever he’s about to say, I kiss him for real. For real, for real. Which makes Lo bolder, and his hand finally moves to the back of my head and grips me tightly. Angling my face how he wants me.

I try to keep up. Try to mimic what he’s doing. Does he know I don’t know how to do this? Does he think I’m a bad kisser? I must be doing okay, since he doesn’t stop kissing me.

Lo coaxes me down onto the bed so we’re laying on our sides facing each other, mouths never parting. His hand on the back of my head trades out with the one now under my head as he keeps me right how he wants me.

His other goes back to tracing my jaw. Then the length of my neck and down to the hollow between my collarbones. I shiver under his touch. His fingers leave behind a trail of tingles and gooseflesh.

He moves closer, shrinking the distance between our bodies. The way his hand moves on me feels almost lethargic. Hypnotic. Relaxing. It trails back up my neck until he hooks my chin with his thumb and gently pulls my mouth open wider.

And that’s when he really begins to kiss me. With tongue and teeth. Wet and sloppy. I can taste his toothpaste and the barest hint of alcohol. Or is that all from me?

When my arm brushes his chest, I realize I’m gripping the sheets between us tightly as he leans in closer. Stealing my breath and my will to do anything but kiss him. Does he know he’s teaching me? That I’m fighting to concentrate on his mouth while his hand along my neck is distracting me?

Our kisses feel almost lazy and sluggish. Like we’re just kissing. Just tasting each other. His fingers on me feel the same. He doesn’t move past my collarbone as he traces over every part of me that he can above that point—my cheekbones, my eyelids, the shape of my nose, my eyebrows, the shape of my eyes, every single inch of my neck. Into my hair and around my ears.

It’s intoxicating. I feel like he’s somehow drugging me. Making me both hyper aware of and numb to his touch. It’s like I can feel his hand in multiple places and yet, I’m not quite so aware of his hand on me either.

Everything changes when Lo alters something about his kiss. I’m not sure what it is, except the angle of my head somehow moves and I feel his kiss throughout my body. I moan.

My moan makes his kiss more heated, and I spend a few seconds trying to figure out how it’s changed. It’s not like he’s kissing me much differently. But somehow, it feels different. It feels sexy now. Hot. My blood is beginning to burn.

My dick, once feeling forgotten, is now very aware of how close we are. Of his hand on me. Images of his mouth around my dick, sucking my head like he is my tongue, make me moan again. My cock grows in my underwear, and I try to shift my body away a little so he doesn’t feel it.

Inappropriate!

Although, is there a more appropriate time to get hard than when you’re in bed with someone? Kissing them. Both almost entirely naked.

His finger moves down my arm, along the length of my forearm and to my fingers gripping the sheets with white knuckles. I’m not sure what he’s doing at first until I realize he wants me to let go. But I’m not sure if I want to. My grip is keeping me grounded. Anchored. If I let go, I might just lose my mind.

But I let go when he continues to rub my fingers. Maybe he’s trying to soothe me. That’s kind of what it feels like. Trying to make me comfortable during this moment.

Once I release the sheet, his hand presses against mine. His fingers twine between mine slowly and I don’t know why, but that feels so fucking erotic. I can’t put it into words, but I somehow feel the action inside me. I groan, long and low. My hips rocks on their own and I think I brush my dick against him. Which makes me whimper.

The sensation of something touching my cock is too much. I’m throbbing now. With need. Desperation. Though I try like fuck to hold still, I rock again and this time I know I brush him. There’s no mistaking it.

Lo lets go of my hand, but before I can grip the bed again, he presses it to his stomach. His muscles twitch under my touch. With his hand over mine, he slides them up his skin until my palm rests over his racing heart.

His hand rests there for a minute, keeping mine right where he wants it, before he traces back up my arm again and around to my back. Along my ribs, my waist, until he can grip my hip. He pulls me closer. Closer. Until we’re just barely not pressed together.

My hand pressed between us against his heart keeps us slightly apart. But his body heat is fucking hot. A furnace. With every struggled breath, our dicks brush through our underwear.

Everything in me wants to let go and enjoy this man. Obviously, he wants me. Even though it’s clear I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. Maybe I have the hang of kissing, but it’s hard to concentrate on that when we’re so close. When he’s touching me.

My dick aches and I can’t keep my hand where it is anymore. I slide it down between us, ignoring the way it brushes his erection, and grab mine in a hard fist. I moan pathetically.

Lo’s mouth comes off mine and I suck in a breath, keeping my eyes squeezed shut so I don’t have to look at him. Is he disgusted?

“You okay?” he murmurs. His voice has been nothing but sexy since I first heard him speak, but right now with it deep and scratchy and filled with heat, it makes my cock leak.

I nod.

“Can I touch you?”

A shudder runs through me as I bite my lip. “You already are,” I whisper after a minute.

He huffs quietly, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and biting gently. A pulse of arousal shoots down to my balls and I groan. Probably loudly. Which makes my cheeks heat.

“Your dick, Caulder. Can I touch your dick?” he clarifies.

Oh god I want him to. Before I can stop myself, I’m nodding.

“You can tell me to stop at any time,” he promises quietly.

I nod again. His mouth returns to mine, though our kisses aren’t nearly as urgent and heated as they were. It’s as if he’s allowing me the opportunity to speak if I need to. But all I can do is focus on where his hand has landed over mine where it squeezes my dick tightly.

As he had with my hand on the bed, he gently and patiently eases my hold and removes my hand. His replaces it. Without his mouth over mine swallowing the sounds I make, they’re loud in my head. Loud in the room. They’re embarrassing. He’s barely touching me. Not even my skin.

“Can I move these?” he asks quietly, tugging gently at the elastic of my underwear.

I nod.

Lo pulls at them a little, just enough so they’re down around my ass cheeks and under my balls, exposing me to him. I can’t open my eyes. They’re squeezed so tightly closed there are stars dancing.

I jerk when the backs of his fingers trail slowly along my length. Ring my cockhead. Press to the slit in my crown. He traces a vein all the way to my root before cupping my balls and gently tugging on them.

If you ask me, the sounds I’m making are rabid. They’re sick and depraved and I need them to stop. But he feels so good touching me that I can’t.

After further exploration that feels like a week has gone by, his hand circles me and he gives me one long stroke along my shaft. My hips jerk into his hand. Fuck, I need to come.

“Can I put my mouth on you?” Lo asks.

“Oh god,” I whimper, nodding wildly.

He chuckles. “You’re really sexy, Caulder. You know that?”

My cheeks heat.

His mouth presses to mine again before he starts moving down my body. There’s something wild about it. When I don’t have the solid form of his body pressed to mine, his heat seeping into me, his hand firmly on the back of my head, I feel like I’m going to burst apart.

Slowly, his mouth moves along my torso as he drops between my legs. I’m leaking by the time he reaches my crown. Keeping me on my side, Lo brings my top leg over his head, hooking the back of my knee over his shoulder. His hand moves below that leg, arm curling over it as he toys with my cock by just moving barely, touching my dick with with the tips of his fingers.

The whines and whimpers don’t stop as I grip the bed again in anticipation. I need him to suck me. He’s right there. His face is pressed against my groin.

I look down just as he looks up and our eyes meet in the low light from the television. He smiles and fucking hockey sticks, it’s so goddamn hot. Seeing him between my legs, the crown of my dick against his lips, his pretty light eyes that I can only barely see by the glow of the television staring up at me.

We’re still watching each other when he takes my dick in his mouth. My mouth is already open as I try to breathe, but it opens wider. Shocked at the heat. The wetness. The way his teeth gently touch me as he closes around me, keeping me pressed tightly in his mouth.

Holy.

Fuck.

He doesn’t shift for a minute, just moves his tongue around my cock. The muscles of his mouth flex, making me jerk and shudder. When he goes deeper, I moan loudly. Then he pulls back, popping off, making me grunt.

Over and over, Lo takes me into his mouth, using himself like a toy to fuck. In and out, in and out. The squelch is indecent. The way I’m shivering uncontrollably as my orgasm builds higher and higher makes me feel like I’m going to come apart.

I haven’t caught my breath since he started kissing me. Even as I struggle to breathe now, I can’t take a deep one. It’s like, every time I try, he swallows me down and I choke on air.

His hand around my leg tightens in time with the way my hips rock on their own. I can’t control them. The other hand is rubbing my ass cheek. Toying with my crack, but not spreading my cheeks. Just touching. Tracing the shape of me.

I’m not sure what he does differently but the seal to my orgasm is coming loose. I grip the bed as I stare at him. Wanting to witness the magic he’s creating.

His eyes flicker up to mine and I swear I can feel him smile right before he hunkers down, taking most of my dick in his mouth, and begins to suck in earnest. I cry out, my hand leaving the bed and tangling in his hair. Without thought, I curl myself around his head, my hips trying to move wildly as my eyes roll in my head.

How he does it, I’ll never know. It feels like he never takes a breath. Just one continuous suction as he pulls the breath from my lungs, and my life from my body. I jerk and jolt and try to warn him I’m going to lose my load.

I try. I’m not sure the sounds I make are words, never mind English. I might have just taught myself Latin as I finally fall over the edge. I grip him tightly, shuddering as I spill into his mouth. There’s a short disruption then as he adjusts to accommodate my release.

And swallows it. I can feel the contraction of his throat around the very tip of my dick. Fuck. My hips thrust forward, wanting to feel it again, but he starts sucking once more and I think he’s trying to suck my balls dry.

I come. Sticky streams keep coming. When’s the last time I got myself off? Clearly it’s been a while.

When I finally fall limp, gasping, Lo releases me. He hums in appreciation. His tongue darts out to capture the last few drops as my dick begins to soften against his mouth.

For a minute, we don’t move. I’m floating in the afterglow of the best orgasm I’d experienced in my life. Just a while longer. I can stay in this moment a while longer.

A door in the hall shuts and my eyes snap open. I remember where I am. Who I’m with. What just happened. White hot panic burns through me and I stiffen. Oh fuck. He’s going to know. I mean, of course he’s going to know! He just sucked my dick!

My breathing gets ragged and I begin to shake. What am I going to do? He can’t know! No one is supposed to know. Tears sting my eyes, so I close them. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

CHAPTER 6

LO

I want to keep touching him, but the sounds he’s making are far too sexy so I drop my hand to my dick and jerk myself off while I suck him. He comes undone. Wild. Unhinged, as he fucks into my mouth while spilling down my throat. It’s fucking hot. There’s nothing better than being with a man who can’t contain himself when he orgasms.

Caulder is the epitome of that. He is complete sensation. No control. It’s erotic and intoxicating. Which is why I come along with him as I jerk myself to the sounds he fills the room with and taste of him on my tongue.

The quiet calm that settles around us lasts far shorter than I’d have liked. He turns rigid against me. His breathing is so labored that I can hear it above the television. And then he begins to shake.

I gently pull away after he doesn’t calm down on his own and I frown. If I’d thought he’d be a panicky mess after, I might have reconsidered this. It was clear from the moment I kissed him that he was unsure. But the times I pulled away, it was Caulder who brought his mouth back to mine.

Was I wrong to interpret that as he wanted to explore?

He was nervous, yes. Which is why I continued to ask if I could do more than kiss him. I’m cool with the straight guy exploring for a good time. And we’re stuck in this room together, so why not? There’s no one here to see and at the end of this weekend, he can go back to being straight and forget everything about it.

I honestly don’t have the patience to talk down a panicking straight boy.

When I disentangle myself from between his legs, he practically curls up in on himself. Frowning, I say, “Don’t roll backwards. I’ll be right back.”

There’s no indication that he’s heard me, so I slip out of bed and head to the bathroom. On the way, I kick the remote and roll my eyes. Apparently, it’d fallen off the bed. Probably while we were fooling around.

I wet a cloth and wipe my face, then my dick. After rinsing it, I bring it back to the bedroom and clean up the mess I made on the bed behind him. Caulder hasn’t moved. He’s still curled into a fetal position.

With another sigh, I go back into the bathroom and rinse the cloth again before bringing it back, turning the light off behind me. Crawling back onto the bed, I contemplate my options here. Let him freak out and calm down before saying anything? Is that really the best I can do?

Setting the cloth on the nightstand, I scooch down on the bed until I’m laying on my side level with his head. I can barely see his face with the way he’s curled up.

“It’s just an orgasm,” I say quietly. “You can totally pretend I’m a girl who gave it to you. It doesn’t have to be a big deal, Caulder. It doesn’t mean you have to change what you think about yourself or how you identify.”

He snorts, but I’m relieved to see that he’s stopped shaking.

“Holes are holes,” I continue. “My mouth isn’t any different than a girl’s. Maybe a little bigger. Also, since I have a dick, I know how to suck one better.”

This time Caulder’s snort is accompanied by quiet laughter.

“But the principle is the same, right? Everyone has a mouth. A tongue. We can all suck when we want to.”

“Ohmigod, stop,” he says, laughing. “You’re not a fucking girl, so stop.”

“I’m just saying⁠—”

“I know, but I think you’ve got the wrong idea.”

Do I? What does that mean? The wrong idea about what?

With a heavy sigh, Caulder unwraps himself and rolls onto his back before I can stop him. He winces and picks up his leg.

“I cleaned up,” I comment, smirking. “Though maybe we should strip the bed in the morning and let housekeeping give us new sheets.”

He huffs quiet laughter and brings an arm over his face. I wait, not wanting to push, but definitely want to know what I have the wrong idea about.

“I’m not… freaking out because you’re a guy,” he says after a long pause. “I’m freaking out because… I—” He takes a deep breath. “I’m gay.”

I stare at his strangely illuminated shape in the light of the television. “Okay, let me see if I understand this. You’re gay and a guy sucking your dick made you freak out.”

Caulder laughs. “Yes.”

“Well… I’m not going to pretend that cleared anything up.”

“Did you know I’m gay?” he asks.

I study him for a minute before shaking my head. “No.”

“Exactly. No one does.”

“No one?”

He shakes his head and repeats in a voice just above a whisper. “No one.”

Ah. “You’re afraid that I’m going to tell someone?”

Caulder sighs again. “No. I mean, now I am. But no. I just… I’ve been careful my entire life to not be gay.”

“You can’t change that, man.”

He shakes his head. “No, sorry. Not what I meant. I’ve been careful not to let my sexuality be a thing. Which means, if I’m seen as straight, then it’s not a thing. Which has been my plan since I realized I was gay when I was nine. I only want to be seen as a hockey player. Not a gay hockey player. Just a hockey player.”

“I understand that.”

“Yeah?”

I lean back and arrange the pillows under my head again. “Yep. That’s been my plan too.”

Caulder drops his arm and looks at me. “You’re gay?”

“I’m not sure if you thought you fell and your dick landed in my mouth, but I did ask to suck your dick, didn’t I?”

He bursts out laughing. Caulder has one of those laughs that’s consuming. Addicting. Infectious. I find myself laughing with him.

“Like you, I’ve kept my sexuality hidden from anyone having to do with hockey. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed, but I see what the ‘Gays Can Play’ guys go through, the kinds of attention they get, the added scrutiny, and I just don’t want any part of that. I like who I am. I wouldn’t change it if I had the choice. But who I am seems to be a concern for a whole lot of people since I’m gay, and I just want hockey to be the focus when they look at me. Not whether I’m a bottom or a top.”

“I know. Sometimes I feel really stupid and selfish because I understand that it’s a huge deal for kids to see they can play sports, and that their sexuality doesn’t matter. It’s not something that will hold them back in anything. They can be great too. But I just don’t want that kind of attention. I hate attention on me anyway so added attention just feels far too big,” Caulder says.

“I get it. As professional athletes, we already have huge expectations on us. Adding to that for any reason, especially a controversial one though it shouldn’t be, is shitty. I’m with you on that. That’s why I haven’t told anyone that has any ties to my hockey life.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” Caulder whispers. “Ever. Until just now.”

I let his words hang in the air for a minute until I realize just how big they are. He hasn’t ever told anyone. Anyone!

“I’m the first person you’ve told?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.

Caulder nods. “The only person.”

“Not even your family? Your friends?”

He takes a shuddering breath. “No. If anyone knew, there’s a chance they could tell someone else. Accidently. Vindictively. Carelessly.” He shrugs. “If no one knows, then no one but me can fuck that up.”

“Why did you just tell me?”

“Because listening to you compare your mouth to a girl’s was making me cringe,” he admits, laughing. “I needed you to stop trying to make the confused straight boy comfortable.”

I laugh too. “Sorry. You were not the first confused straight boy I’ve messed around with,  I can’t just walk out and go home like I usually would so I did my best to comfort you.”

“I’m touched,” he deadpans.

“Hey, I know my strengths and weaknesses, and comforting someone for any reason isn’t a strength of mine. But again, I didn’t have the option to just let you do your thing and leave you to it when we’re stuck in the same room.”

“You’re so sweet I can’t contain myself,” he says wryly.

I chuckle.

“I’m not really an asshole,” I promise, “despite how I’m making myself out to be. If I’d have thought you were going to be a panicking straight guy, I definitely wouldn’t have kissed you, never mind doing anything else. I know I’m not cut out for the ensuing conversation, so I avoid those situations when I can. That’s all.”

“I’m not entirely convinced you didn’t have even the barest idea that I would end up panicky after,” Caulder says. “Have I given you some false idea that I’m confident and comfortable being in bed with you?”

Grinning, I roll to my side to face him. “Actually, you relaxed after a while. And since you kissed me a couple times when I backed away to give you the option, I kind of guessed you’d roll with it better.”

“I’m sorry,” Caulder mutters. “I just… I was enjoying it, and that won out over the need to put space between us again.”

“Then the pleasure’s over and the panic crashes down.”

“Exactly. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Caulder. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or put pressure on you.”

He rolls to his side to face me, bringing us closer. “You didn’t. Please believe me when I tell you this truly is a me thing. It was loud in my head but… it felt good and I wanted to get off.”

I have a feeling his cheeks are red as he tells me this. Trying not to let myself grin too big, I gently shove at his shoulder. “Okay then how about this—and there’s zero pressure here, Caulder. Okay? But since we’re here, forced to share a bed, and now we’re keeping each other’s secrets, if you want to fool around this weekend, I’m totally down for that.”

His inhalation is loud, and he holds his breath. I’m surprised when he nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“I meant what I just said. No pressure. If you’re uncomfortable or don’t want to, that’s totally cool. We’re just a couple straight guys forced to share a space because the hotel is fucking stupid.”

Caulder laughs. “No. Actually… I think I want to be gay for the weekend. You know, behind closed doors where no one can see or suspect. As terrifying as it was to admit to someone out loud, there’s a weight off me that you know. I can’t even tell you the dread I felt coming in here, knowing I was going to be sharing a tight space—a single bed—with a stranger and having to hide this.”

“You’ve shared hotel rooms before,” I point out.

“Yes, but I’ve always managed to be with guys I’m good friends with. There’s comfort in that. And when it’s been strangers, I’ve had time to work myself up for it and it’s never been in the same bed. It’s a huge relief that you know. It’s a bigger relief that you’re gay too.”

I slide closer to him and rest my hand on his hip. When he doesn’t appear uncomfortable at all, I bring him closer, meeting him in the middle of the bed. “Then let’s be openly gay this weekend within these walls. No secrets. No having to hide it or pretend not to notice your sexy ass. No having to force myself to look away when I want to admire you because you’re fucking gorgeous.” I was right. This man is blushing. He does so easily, and I adore it. “We’ll fool around and then go our separate ways in three days, taking this secret to the grave.”

“For the record, I don’t plan to stay closeted forever,” Caulder says, his voice quiet and breathless. “Just until I retire and moderately fade into the background.”

“Oh, same. But I have no immediate plans to retire, so to the grave it is.”

He grins and I lean in to bite his lip.

“Think we can get rid of the underwear? I usually sleep naked, and this is going to keep me awake.”

Caulder huffs. “Yeah, fine.”

We wiggle our way out of our underwear, and I’m stoked when he easily meets me back in the middle of the bed. Chest to chest. Cock to cock. Ankles tangled. His hand is still hesitant where it rests lightly on my waist.

“Thanks for not making a big deal out of this,” Caulder says.

“There shouldn’t be a big deal when someone comes out,” I tell him. “There shouldn’t be a need to come out at all. It shouldn’t matter.”

He nods, a sad smile on his lips. “That’s not the world we live in.”

“I would say that we’re closer to that world now than we were.”

“You think so? I think the world keeps getting uglier and we’re moving backwards.”

“Oh, definitely. But those old white guys will die and this younger generation, the one after us, they’re already not quiet about who they are. The world will change, and these old white guys are going to roll over in their graves.”

He laughs. “Good. I hope I’m here to see it.”

“Me too. For now, let’s make out some more, maybe rub against each other a little bit, until we fall asleep. There’s no better way to wake up rested than after a few orgasms.”

Caulder smiles, but it’s still shy. Cutely shy. But his kissing is far more eager this time. There’s still nervousness in it, but he’s no longer quite so hesitant. He doesn’t feel like he’s fighting himself this time. It makes a world of difference in his kisses. He was tasty as I coaxed him into what he clearly wanted but was afraid to take before, but now that he’s fully on board, I can just eat up his eagerness.

Especially when I feel his dick hardening against my thigh. I drop my hand to his ass and hike him closer. The dirty sound he makes in my mouth has me shivering. This man is sexy. So. Damn. Hot.

I’m not sure what gay god was looking down on me this weekend to have gifted me Caulder Haines as a bed partner, but I’m going to worship both the gay god and Caulder while I have him. Fuck yes, please!

CHAPTER 7

CAULDER

I’ve never, literally never woken up with someone in the same bed pressed against me. It’s not just a body pressed against me, either. Lo’s practically on top of me.

My heart races for one wild minute, and I’m disoriented when I groggily open my eyes. I don’t recognize my surroundings and the weight of the hot body tangled with mine is almost enough to make me lose my shit.

But Lo sighs in his sleep and for some reason, that’s enough to trigger a 10x speed overview of what happened last night—the sex on TV, the kiss, the blowie, the freakout, the confessions, the arrangement. And here we are.

A smile touches my lips. I didn’t tell him everything last night. Although, I’m guessing he probably can guess a lot of it. But the things I left out are kind of a big deal. I’ve never so much as touched another man.

Or woman. I never pretended to be straight to that extent. In reality, I don’t actually try to appear straight. I present that way when forced to talk about relationships and hookups or whatever. Otherwise, I avoid the conversations and topics at all costs.

In reality, I don’t trust myself. That’s why I’ve never even allowed myself to go to a club under the anonymity of night and fool around. The idea that I could be found, caught, and outed against my will, was far too fucking terrifying.

Instead, I stay deep in the closet with my secret close to my heart and enjoy my hand and a few toys when the need becomes too much. I don’t mind the closet. I’ve made myself a home here.

Up until now, I haven’t been driven to temptation at all. That doesn’t mean I haven’t met or seen some stupidly attractive men over the years. It just means my resolve has been too strong to give in. My goal, my one track mind, is what has kept me so focused on my path and never deviating from it.

I turn my face into Lo’s hair and breathe him in. He mostly smells like sweat and sex, but there’s a hint of shampoo there. A tease at what Lo smells like normally. Is he more attractive because we’ve fooled around? After the third orgasm somewhere around four this morning, I fell into a hard sleep. Peaceful.

Nothing has ever felt so fucking good as his hand and mouth on me. On my dick. On my lips. On my nipples.

He ran his hands over my ass and along my crack a lot, but he never tried to go further than foreplay. Now I’m wondering whether it’s because he doesn’t want sex, or if he saw through more than what I volunteered last night and knows the truth. He literally blew a whole lot of firsts out of the water in a single night.

I’m not sure if I’m ready to have sex. It’s not that I’m saving it for any special thing or person or occasion. It’s more that… right now, I don’t know what I’m missing. There’s porn that tells you what’s out there and there’s toys and shit. But with another body touching me, sharing it with me, I think it will change everything and staying closeted will be a lot more difficult than it is right now.

For now, I have a system. I’ve made a comfortable life living in a way that no one suspects. You know, probably. I imagine if someone were to look closely, they’d see the holes in my stories. But why would they look? No one cares and I haven’t given them a reason to.

Lo sighs in his sleep again, this time shifting. He’d been kind of draped over me, but facing the other way, now he’s shifted so he can stretch up my body and press his face into my neck. I grin. There’s something really cute about it.

Unsure if I’m allowed to touch him, I softly brush my fingers through the back of his hair. His arm that’s draped over me curls and his hand lands on my stomach. He’s definitely far more confident than I am. That hand moves up my torso and pauses at my nipple, softly squeezing it and twisting it.

Until last night, I had no idea my nipples were as sensitive as they are. Just this little touch has my body heating. Lo’s lips curl against my skin and then he kisses my neck.

He shifts on my body again, bringing his leg between mine and pressing his thigh to my hard cock. Rubbing against me. Rocking into me. I groan.

And here I thought it might be awkward this morning. I stretch my head back, giving Lo more of my neck. I’m a whore for his touch. He can touch me anywhere he wants. I’ve never felt the electricity move through my skin quite like it does with him.

I mean, why would I? I’ve been the only one touching myself my entire life. This is going to get addicting.

“Want a morning fuck?” he murmurs.

I shiver and wonder if he means that literally. When I don’t answer, Lo picks his head up and meets my eyes.

“Do you always bring condoms to games?” I ask.

He grins and damn, he’s hot first thing in the morning. There’s a wrinkle crease on his cheek and his hair is standing on end. The slight shadow on his chin is darker and fuller than last night, but still barely more than a hint.

“Yes. Traveling is usually the only time I hook up. Far from home where no one knows me.”

“How do you ensure that they don’t recognize you?”

“I do some admittedly lazy preliminary questioning before I decide whether I’ll meet them. And they must host.”

“You meet these guys online?”

Lo gives me an amused smile. “Yeah. Thrustr. How do you meet guys?”

There’s the question I hate, though at least it’s about guys this time instead of girls. I’m surprised by how much I appreciate the correct question.

“Clubs,” I answer, as I always do.

“That has a bigger chance at being recognized than an anonymous guy online,” he points out. “And yes, I always bring my own protection because it’s not negotiable.”

I nod. That’s reassuring.

“But we don’t have to fuck, Caulder.”

“I…”

He smirks. There’s a dimple when he smirks. I’d like to stick my tongue in it. Taste it. His smirk is stupidly sexy. Especially all morning rumpled like this.

“I meant fuck, as in ‘do you want to get off again’ more than the literal meaning of the word,” he explains. “I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want to do.”

Sighing, I shake my head. “I didn’t say I don’t want to. Just… maybe not yet.”

He straddles my body and fuck, the way my dick immediately begins to pulse when he presses his to mine as he leans over me. His hands bear his weight on either side of my head as he looks down at me with that same sexy as fuck smirk. If he keeps looking at me like that, I think I will lose all ability to say no to anything.

With his eyes trained on mine, he deliberately rolls his hips, his cock grinding into mine. I groan, my hands reflexively going to his hips.

“Wanna fuck like this?” he asks and I nod. “Wrap your hand around our cocks, Caulder.”

My cheeks heat. Hell, my entire body burns as I reach between us and grip our dicks. Lo leans back and drops some spit between our cocks.

“Hold tight.”

My grip tightens and I think I can feel my hand around my throat. He rolls his hips, shoving his dick further into my hand, rubbing it tightly against my cock. I groan, shivering as he pulls backward, bringing his dick the other way.

He spits again and I jerk a little when it hits my dick. Then he does it again, rolling his hips. He repeats this, always adding more spit until we’re slick. When we’re moving with little friction, Lo fucks into my hand harder. Quicker. My body moves with his, unable to stop myself.

“That’s it,” Lo praises. “Squeeze harder. Jerk us—fuck, yes, like that.”

My free hand is gripping his arm, as if holding on. My eyes move between his face and our dicks, unsure what is hotter right now. The hot, aroused expression on his face, or the way our dicks look together. Maybe it’s the tensing of his abdominal muscles, flexing as he moves. Or the way his sculpted biceps shift as he moves.

Lo leans down suddenly and takes my mouth in his. His kiss is hot. Devouring. It makes this whole thing hotter. I’m so close. So fucking close.

We rut against each other, groaning. His teeth sink into my lip and my balls draw up tight. I make some weird sound when his hand joins mine around our dicks. The first time his thumb brushes our slits, I lose my shit and come everywhere.

Since I’ve recently had three orgasms, it’s not the fountain it was the first time. I probably could have punched a hole through the back of Lo’s mouth with the force of it. But this one, though just as intense, is more like a dribble that leaks out.

It still gets everywhere because of the way we’re thrusting together. Spattering over us. Painting my stomach and chest. Lo sucks on my lip as he comes. Feeling the way his cock pulses in my hand in time with his grunts makes me ache.

This is so hot. Feels so good. Another amazing orgasm.

Then he rolls off me and we lay on our backs, panting. I stare at the ceiling, my hand still on my cock, slowly, lazily stroking it.

“Best way to wake up,” Lo murmurs.

I huff. That’s a fucking understatement. Yes, definitely the best way to wake up for sure.

We both jump when his alarm goes off. It’s not my alarm because I didn’t set one. He laughs as he rolls off the bed and starts hunting through a pile of clothes until he finds it. I stare at his sexy naked ass bent over, and don’t look away when he turns toward me.

He said we can look at each other. Specifically. So I’m going to look.

I take this moment to truly drink him in. He’s mesmerizing. Not ridiculously sculpted, but there’s definite definition everywhere. Thick, hairy thighs but a smoother torso. There’s a hint of hair there, then more below his stomach and driving south where he’s definitely manscaped.

Lo’s arms are sexy. Strong. Thick. I’m not well versed in dick—obviously—but I think his is pretty perfect. It’s just right as far as I’m concerned when it comes to thickness and length. He has a perfect head and perfectly proportioned balls. Everything about this man is sexy as fuck.

That ass, though. All hockey players have nice asses. It’s just the nature of how we exercise. We need strong thighs, and the glutes are part of many of those workouts.

And Jesus, I could look at his face all day. Especially when that smirk is in place. Like it is now. I flush when I realize I’ve been caught.

“Like what you see?”

I sit up, but lean back since I’m full of cum. Although, the sheets need to be washed so I shouldn’t care too much. “Yes,” I admit as I examine the mess on me. If I were a braver man, I’d take a taste of our mixed loads. I’m not that man, though. Raising my eyes to his, I say, “You’re hot.”

Lo grins. “Come on. Let’s get in the shower.”

Sighing, I get to my feet and hurry to the bathroom before I leave a trail behind me. I step into the shower and flick on the water. A burst of icy water makes me step backward into the cold tile wall and I grunt.

He chuckles as he steps in with me, closing the glass door behind him. It’s a good size shower, but he crowds against me, his hands running through our mess and down to wrap around my soft dick. The fucker gives a twitch, bravely trying to get hard again.

“I’m going to need a minute if you want to go again,” I tease. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Lo laughs, his mouth covering mine. “You’re not even thirty, Haines.”

“No, but I need more than ten minutes. Sorry to disappoint.”

His smile is sweeter than sexy this time. He presses his mouth to mine in a slow, deep kiss, and then says, “You’re the furthest thing from a disappointment, Caulder. The furthest fucking thing.”

This time when my cheeks heat, it’s not from embarrassment. It’s because that’s so damn sweet. It makes me feel… like I need to catch my breath. He stares into my eyes, his hands moving down my body to wrap around me and pull me from the wall. Pressing me firmly against him.

God, I feel like a sap the way this position makes me feel all warm and my chest tight. I’ve never been held by anyone. How could I be? I’ve never been touched at all.

Giving into the temptation, I rest my forehead to his and wrap my arms around him. Closing my eyes, I give him some of my weight.

Lo hums. “Definitely not a disappointment,” he murmurs.

We don’t move for quite some time. My hands move over his back when I press my face into his neck and shoulder. Just feeling him. Touching him. Learning his body.

He does the same, and I think a part of me melts into him. Molds to his body. This isn’t sexual at all, which I’m not sure was part of the arrangement. But this feels almost better.

Fighting words, right? What’s better than an orgasm?

I’ll tell you what. Nice words. To feel like you’re seen and wanted. Protected, with your secrets safe. To be held like the other person is just as enchanted with you as you are with them.

The orgasms are fantastic. I definitely want more. I have no doubt we’re going to have a lot more. But moments like these right here, when offered, I’m going to soak them up while I can. Who knows when I’ll have the opportunity for another. There are likely very few Los in the world. Few men who share my specific predicament.

I need to stock up on this feeling. On this glimpse into what I have to look forward to later. Much later. Down the road when I retire and finally allow myself to be myself. To be gay for the world to see. To meet a man and fall in love.

But for now, I’m going to enjoy as much of this as I possibly can. Everything Lo offers, I’m going to take. 

CHAPTER 8

LO

I stop Caulder after he undoes the locks but before he pulls the door open, bringing him back and pressing him against the wall with my hands on his chest so I can kiss him again. He smiles against my mouth, but it quickly dissolves when I kiss him deeply. He moans quietly into my mouth.

Pressing my body against his, I drag my hands down his chest to his stomach before wrapping them around his waist. He’s more confident in kissing me now. Maybe accepting that I’m going to keep his secret so he can let go with me. After all, we both have secrets that we’ve shared now. And we’re not children.

After a few minutes, he gently pushes me off him. “We need to get downstairs,” he says as I drop my mouth to his neck. He angles his face up, letting me have my fill even as he protests. I smile when one of his hands tangles in my hair. “Really, Lo. We need to…”

I sigh. “Yeah, we do,” I agree, though I don’t stop kissing and licking his neck. He shivers so deliciously.

Reluctantly, I force my mouth off his and look at his face. He’s fucking sexy. Eyes half closed, lips parted and a little swollen, panting lightly. This is the look they should put on billboards. The world would buy whatever it is he’s selling.

However, he’s right. I’m hungry, and if I want to eat before we need to head to the arena, we should go downstairs. Still, I’m not in a hurry to get off him. After all, if we walk out of here looking like we were making out, there are going to be questions.

Knowing I have him to come back to tonight is going to make the day very, very long.

Eventually, we release each other and straighten our appearances again. Caulder opens the door and looks at me. I swear there’s a little bit of a challenge there. Which is a mistake because I’ll bring him back to bed right now.

He gives me a grin as he steps into the hall, as if he knows what I’m thinking. I will happily wipe that grin off his face later.

I fall into step beside him, letting our door close loudly behind us. He takes half a step sideways as we move to the elevator.

Caulder really is cute. When we’re alone, he doesn’t think much about how close he is to me or how he looks at me. Whether he’s touching me or not. Not after last night. But once we leave the room, I can almost visibly see how everything he does is calculated. Maybe I see it now because I know he’s gay and hiding it.

He walks beside me down the hall, but keeps exactly enough distance between us so our hands won’t brush. When I step closer, he recreates the space. I try this twice and he does so both times. We step into the elevator and it’s the same.

However, as I study him, I think maybe it’s not consciously intentional. It’s something he does out of habit. Caulder always creates just enough space between him and everyone else that’s comfortable, but not obvious that he’s doing so. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if last night didn’t happen.

If someone ever did point it out, he could easily say he’s recreating his personal boundaries. He’s not exaggerating the space between him and someone else. It’s not like in high school where stupid kids are all ew cooties and try to put a room between you. It’s subtle, but he keeps that bubble intact.

“What?” he asks as we step out of the elevator.

I look at him, raising a brow.

“You’re watching me. Do I have something in my teeth?” He gives me a wide grin, showing me his teeth.

I like this Caulder. He’s not stiff and freaked out like he’d been when I first stepped into the room last night. I’m not sure if it’s my expert orgasm-giving skills or maybe the mutual secrets we share, but I really love this relaxed Caulder.

Chuckling, I shake my head. “No. Sorry. Just… observing.”

His cheeks flush. “Well, don’t. I’m already too conscious of you now…” He keeps his voice low, unable to be overheard.

After a glance around our immediate vicinity, I ask, “Because I know?”

He nods and shrugs. “And because of… other things.”

I grin and that grin remains firmly in place as we drop our gear bags at the front in the pile with everyone else’s and then step into the hotel restaurant. I’m ridiculously pleased that he’s still thinking about it. Good to know that I’m not alone in that fact.

There are five tables pushed together and we take seats not next to each other, though I’m not sure we do so intentionally. Caulder takes the single seat next to the Buffalo trio, while I sit next to Max Latham.

“How did you score a room by yourself?” Drick asks Max with a scowl.

“I stood in line for almost an hour and listened to everyone yelling and demanding changes they didn’t get. By the time I reached reception, they naturally asked if my partner would be arriving separately, I said yes, Deryke would be here later tonight. She looked at me perplexed and then tried to explain the situation to which I responded—calmly, I might add—that we wouldn’t mind sharing a room, however, they’d have to explain to my roommate that they will be watching me get railed all night by my boyfriend when he got here. We’re quite kinky and I know he’s checked a bag just for our toys. Magically, I was no longer sharing a room,” Max says, reaching for a breakfast roll.

Noah laughs. “That’s basically what Lix said. Minus the kinky stuff.”

Max tosses a roll at Noah. “Don’t be shy. You can talk about the kinky stuff.”

Noah’s cheeks flush and he shakes his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

My gaze drops to the collar around his neck, but I don’t say anything. A waitress stops by and takes orders from me and Caulder. Our eyes meet for a second before he looks away, a smile just barely touching his lips.

“I should have thought of that,” Drick grumbles. “You suppose it would have had the same results if I said my wife was showing up?”

“Yes,” multiple people say.

“Have you seen what the internet is calling this?” Lamar asks as he pulls up a chair. “The Hockey All-Star Great Bed Fuckery of 2022. There’s already a whole bunch of memes and so many of them are ‘what turned that player gay?’ ‘Forced proximity, one bed during the Great Bed Fuckery of 2022!’”

Laughter fills the table, and my gaze finds Caulder’s again. That’s exactly what would happen here. Oh, you’re gay now? Must have been the shared bed during the All-Star that did it. There’s laughter in his eyes and I have a feeling he’s thinking the same thing I am.

“What about you, Lo?” Lamar says. “You get out of sharing, or weren’t creative enough to do so?”

“It didn’t occur to me to tell them I had someone meeting me here,” I admit, shrugging. “So yes, I’m sharing.”

“Who’d you get?”

“This sounds like a trading card game,” Max says, shaking his head.

I look at Caulder and nod in his direction. “Haines.”

The attention turns to Caulder, and he continues to chew on a roll. “Yes, he snores and wakes up a bear in the morning. Ask me how I know.”

Snickers follow his comment, and the conversation moves on, polling the table to find out who was paired up with whom. My gaze remains on Caulder as I eat. Not entirely on him—I’m not staring obviously to the point where I’d be called out—but I’m definitely paying attention to him talking to Creed in favor of literally anyone else around me.

It’s not that his conversation is particularly riveting; they’re just discussing the events planned for today. Which events they’re competing in, and who they think is going to win each. I’m not entirely surprised Ethan and Caulder don’t think they’re going to win their particular events. Neither are particularly arrogant players.

My money is on Caulder for fastest skater, though. I’ve always thought he was ridiculously fast on the ice. Or maybe Max. I glance toward Max. Yeah, he could totally take fastest skater. Then again, it’s not always the shorter guys that are the quickest.

Caulder’s voice has one of those tenors that I could listen to all day. He could talk about cotton, and I’d still be riveted. At this point, I’m not even sure what he’s saying. I’m just listening to him talk. The words may as well be foreign.

“Yo, Lo.”

Blinking several times, I glance up and look at Link Jördik.

“I only talk for my health, it seems,” he deadpans, Austrian accent thick this morning.

I laugh. “Sorry, man. Just zoning out.”

“Mmm,” he says, giving me an assessing look. “You trade roommates, yeah? You bed with Drick.”

Glancing up, Caulder’s eyes are on me. His eyebrows are knit together as he stares. At the end of the table, Drick flips off Link.

“Nah, man. Sorry. Caulder is a very clean, quiet roommate. I think I’m good.” Looking beyond Caulder at Drick, I continue, “No offense, dude.”

Drick rolls his eyes, glaring at Link.

“There’s going to be an enemies-to-lovers serial now,” Lamar loudly mutters. “I’d love to see how this goes down.”

“No,” Link says. “Just incompatible behaviors. I speak to reception again, though useless.” Sighing, he gets to his feet and leaves the restaurant.

I look at Caulder again and he gives me a shy smile before turning toward Creed and taking up conversation again. I’m going to lick that smile off him. Yep, that’s what I’m going to do later.

More guys come and go over the next forty minutes or so before there’s an announcement that the bus is here. Like a herd of animals, we get to our feet and head for the door. There are several minutes of unorganized chaos as we sift through the bags for our own, which is kind of dumb since we’re going to be playing this game again once we get them from under the bus later. Right now is the time to just grab one and go; they’re all going to the same place.

Eventually, we’re loaded on. I’m not sitting with Caulder, which I’m internally a little bummed about. He’s within view, though and of course I can’t stop watching him. I still remember what he feels like against me. Wet in the shower and slick with sweat on the bed. His mouth against mine as I held him to the wall just inside the door.

We did strip the bed, didn’t we?

I swear, there’s still the phantom taste of his cum on my tongue. That man is going to haunt me all day. Right there within reach and yet, untouchable.

Wonder if I could convince him of a quick shower blowie in the middle of the day. Probably not. He’s far too careful about anyone seeing him in any other way than just a hockey player. He might as well be invisible.

Pity. He’s far too gorgeous to be invisible.

I’m still staring at the back of his head when we arrive at the arena and pile off the bus. This is where we end up waiting around for our individual bags to come out. I think mine is toward the back so I have some time.

Caulder steps next to me as I wait, a few feet away from everyone else since I know it’ll be a few minutes. “You keep staring at me,” he murmurs, hands in pockets as he squints up at the clear sky and bright Florida sun.

“I’m remembering⁠—”

“Don’t,” he cuts me off, laughing. “Jesus, Lo. Keep it to yourself!”

I know he’s not referring to what I was just going to teasingly say. But anything I say might inadvertently hint at the precious information he’s shared with me. Me and only me.

“Remembering that we didn’t strip the bed,” I finish, though yeah, that’s not at all what I was going to say.

“Ah,” Caulder says. “Might have to sleep on top of the blankets tonight.”

“Why?” Max asks as he hands Caulder his bag.

“Spilled soda last night,” Caulder answers, shrugging indifferently. I’m impressed with the conversational response without hesitation. Well practiced.

“If they can’t see that the sheets should be changed, I think you should call them up when we get back,” he says. “This hotel is already on everyone’s shit list.”

“The Great Bed Fuckery of 2022!” Lamar calls out as he heads for the door.

“Who’s he rooming with?” I ask, amused.

“I… dunno. Did he say?”

“Lo. Bag,” someone calls from the bus. I step away from Max and Caulder to retrieve it from where they placed it on the pavement. I’m not sure what his answer was when I rejoin them and we turn for the door to follow Lamar inside.

“Pacific and Atlantic in home locker room. Metro and Central in visitor,” a woman is saying as we step inside. She repeats it when the door opens behind us for someone else. That must be a boring job. We part ways with Max and follow the woman’s directions.

I look at Caulder as we walk down the hall. He shakes his head, and a smile spreads across my face. I expect him to move away from me when we choose cubbies so I’m pleasantly surprised when he drops his bag next to mine and sits on the bench, his head lowered, as if he’s hiding his face.

Or maybe a blush.

I have a feeling I’m going to be spending a lot of time watching Caulder Haines today. Hopefully I can figure out how to keep it covert.

CHAPTER 9

CAULDER

I have never in my life been more aware of someone. Keeping my head down, I untie my shoes and slip them off, shoving them under the bench. The time we get to change is usually a mental game for me, getting myself into the hockey zone.

But Lo is sitting right next to me doing the same. Stripping off his clothes, one piece at a time. I remember watching him put them on, covering up his sexy body inch by inch. A body that was dripping wet against mine not two hours ago.

Blinking those memories away, I force myself to focus on what I’m doing. Of all places to be caught looking at someone, the locker room where everyone is changing isn’t one of them. Nope. Just going to pay attention to what I’m doing.

I get down to my underwear as I internally recite my stats to make sure my cock remains unfluffed. Lo standing so close and undressing makes that a more difficult task than it should be. So I determinedly think of nothing else but my stats from the last time I looked at them. Goal attempts. Goals made. Assists.

Once I slip into my cup, I feel better. If I chub a little, only I will know and it’s going to be uncomfortable enough that it’ll keep my mind far away from any sexy ideas.

Lo wanting his hands on me can get addicting. Knowing someone wants you is consuming. It’s not something I’d ever given much thought to but now, feeling his gaze constantly on me makes me burn just under my skin. And as I climb into each layer, I am very aware of him beside me.

Stealing glances at me.

By the time I get my jersey on, I’m exhausted. Not from dressing, though wrangling myself into the pads can be exhausting too, but from trying not to think about Lo. Once he’s in uniform, I look up at him. I’m not sure if that smirk is flirty or just him. But it makes my stomach flutter.

He sits next to me, bumping his knee into mine. I’m not sure if it’s intentional or not.

“What events are you doing?” I ask, just to try to make it appear less awkward.

“Hardest shot, one timers, passing challenge, and accuracy shot. You?”

“Fastest skater instead of hardest shot, otherwise the same.”

“Which do you think you’ll do best in?” he asks.

I shrug. “Dunno. Accuracy maybe. I used to spend a lot of time trying to hit specific targets in high school. I think that’s why I ended up being drafted as a wingman instead of defense, though I naturally default to defense sometimes.”

“You’re a switch,” he says.

My eyes flicker around the room and then narrow on him. His smile widens slyly.

“It’s really cool that you can switch between offense and defense when needed with equal skill,” he continues. “Makes you a really valuable player.”

“Probably why Buffalo refuses to let him go,” Ethan jumps in, tapping his stick to mine. “He can play any position except goalie. And I’d wager a guess he’d do pretty damn well there too.”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think I could move in goalie gear,” I say, glancing at Lamar and Azure. Lamar is balancing the base of his stick on his palm, looking up to watch it and moving to make sure it remains upright.

Azure is watching him indifferently, blank-faced, with eyes half hooded. Maybe he’s not really seeing Lamar, but doing some goalie zone mental exercise. Although his skills won’t get to be seen until the second round. I feel like the goalies should have more events to showcase their skills, too. One event compared to everyone else getting upwards of six seems woefully unfair.

“We should try it one day,” Ethan suggests. He plants his stick on the ground and leans on the handle as he looks at me. “Just for fun. I bet Asael would let you wear his gear. You two could trade positions and we can see how you do.”

I give him a bemused look. “Right. We can table that for a while.”

He laughs. My gaze flickers to Lo and he’s grinning too. Watching me. Not looking between us as the conversation dictates but just me. My cheeks heat as I look at Ethan again.

“Just trying to imagine you in goalie gear,” Lo comments. “I think it’d swallow you.”

“I’m really not small,” I retort, frowning.

Ethan laughs. “It wouldn’t swallow him. He’s no smaller than Azure.”

The three of us turn to look at Azure. Noah’s beside him now and Azure’s expression is almost comical. I swear, it almost looks like he’s trying to figure out what makes Noah tick.

His eyes flicker this way when he feels us watching him. There’s no question when he looks at us. He just returns our stare.

I shiver and bring my focus back.

“Pacific, Atlantic. When you’re ready, this way,” a man calls as he steps into the door.

Lo and I get to our feet and follow the crowd out. The first stop is photographs. Not like we haven’t taken a bunch, but most of those were back home. Now that we’re together, we can take some as a division, and as individual All Star teams, plus some competing poses that really play up the drama, etc.

The room we’re led into is large with one end set up with benches where we file to take seats. I’m sitting between Ethan and Lo. At least when we’re pressed this close together, I can imagine that Lo’s leg against mine is a necessity because of the space and pads. After all, my other leg is pressed against Ethan’s.

There are two clothing racks set up off to the side, one with teal jerseys and the other with maroon.

“Captains first,” a man says.

Ethan gives me a wink and gets to his feet. The Pacific captain is Brian Teethis of Calgary. We watch as they take shots together. Ethan always has a smile because that’s just who he is. Something that Brian doesn’t share, although he does give Ethan an amused look from time to time.

“Is he always happy?” Lo asks.

I nod. “Always. Unless you’re pushing one of his husbands out of the way—then he’s a bear.”

“I saw that,” Lo says, shaking his head. “How did that idiot ever think it was a good idea to shove Creed out of the way? How did he not think that was going to go unanswered?”

“Mmm,” I agree. “People are crazy. Then he had the audacity to get fired up because Ethan hit him and then sued him. And won.”

Lo grins. “The world might have been upset about the whole thing, but they also love Buffalo’s Wildman.”

“Yep.”

We watch the goalies for a while and honestly, no one is as extra as Lamar Gibbon. The man does a fucking handstand in his gear and tries to convince the other four to join him. None of which act entirely impressed with his handstand, though I don’t see them trying.

I bet Azure could do it, though. He’s just too cool to prove it.

After a while, we’re paired up to take some shots. I get paired with Mattias Jönsson first, which I love because I’ve missed him. I don’t miss the flashes of the camera when we hug after we perform their scripted poses.

“Dinner later,” Mattias says. “And Ethan. Yes?”

“Definitely. Creed and Jakub are here too.”

“Yes, good. All Buffalo.”

He sits with us when Lo gets up to have his shot with Noah Kain. Noah is a fucking pretty man and I don’t get jealous when I imagine Lo admiring this about him. I definitely don’t see that he thinks Noah is hot. And I certainly do not stare the entire time they’re posing.

I think perhaps one of the guys orchestrating this entire thing must have misinterpreted my expression because he keeps Lo up there and calls me to join him. As I move toward him, my heart races. His incredibly light eyes are trained on me, his ever-present smirk on his lips. Lips I’ve kissed. Lips that have been wrapped around my cock.

Swallowing, I stand beside him. There are flashes as they capture whatever they see between us. Fuck, I hope I’m not giving myself away right now.

“Back to back.”

I turn my back on Lo, thankful to be out of his stare. His back presses against mine and I keep a stoic face as much as I can as I stare straight ahead. When instructed, I turn my attention to the camera. And then glare at Lo over my shoulder when he taps my thigh, the one not facing the camera. Even though he’s not looking at me, I can see his smirk as he stares into the camera while I continue to glare at him over my shoulder.

“Good. Face each other.”

We do and I try very hard to keep my glare. His smirk is bigger now while I continue to try to appear hostile. I have animosity in me, right?

Not jealousy. He can look at whoever he wants and appreciate how hot they are. Noah is pretty. That’s just a fact. Anyone can see it. Lo is allowed to appreciate that.

He steps closer and our foreheads come together. “What’s wrong, Caulder?” he murmurs, just above a whisper. I’m not sure if he can be overheard so I don’t answer.

Lo chuckles, his hands tangling in my jersey at my chest.

Heat rushes through me. Fuck. Even through this damn padding, I can feel the heat of his hands on my chest. Just as they were right before we left our room!

“What’re you thinking about?” he whispers.

“I’m going to wipe your face on the ice,” I mutter. “Stop.”

He pulls me closer, and I finally respond by bringing my hands up to shove at him. Because neither of us are wearing our gloves and don’t have our sticks, his grip on me is tight. I shove at him harder, but he just laughs.

We end up in a scuffle as I try to peel him off me and Lo just holds tighter. After a few minutes, we’re half wrestling and laughing. I manage to get him off me and onto the floor, on his back, with my knee to his chest. The triumph I feel as I stare down at him only magnifies when he rolls his eyes.

I’m pulled out of the moment when the flashes of the camera finally register again and I remember we’re not alone. Fuck. A brief flash of panic surges through me. Lo’s hand grips mine for a second and I stare into his eyes. It’s okay. We’re playing.

Taking a breath, I get to my feet and pull him with me by his pads.

“So strong,” he teases.

I huff. “You’re insufferable.”

“Good job, guys,” the man says. “Go ahead back.”

My face is still flushed. My heart is racing, and my breathing is slightly shallow. But I can pretend it’s from the exertion of all that energy in pads. Wrestling in hockey pads—brilliant idea.

We don’t sit next to each other since it’s not an option. Which is probably a good thing. I think my face would remain red as if I had to.

Ethan leans into me after I take a drink from one of the water bottles. “Everything okay between you two?” he asks, keeping his voice down.

I glance at the others around us. Not so much to see if they’re listening, but to see if anyone’s looking at me or Lo. No one is. Maybe that means most of what we did up there didn’t look as… heated as it felt.

Not to anyone but someone who knows me better than just a passing figure. Like Ethan. And maybe Mattias.

“Yeah,” I answer, trying to laugh. “Just messing around. Rivalry and all that.”

He studies my face, and I don’t think he’s entirely convinced.

“Honestly, just in fun. We get along fine. I swear. No bad blood or arguments or anything.”

Ethan nods slowly, his attention shifting to Lo a few bodies down on his other side. Lo, who’s fucking watching me again!

I silently curse him, glaring at him from the other side of Ethan. His eyes meet mine and he grins, but finally turns away to talk to whoever’s on his side. I don’t know who because I can’t look anywhere else.

Sitting back just before Ethan turns to me again and I can hide the fact that I was looking at Lo in return, I take another drink.

“Jakub says he’s a nice guy,” Ethan says.

“He is a nice guy,” I agree. With a really fucking nice mouth. And a nice body. A nice smile. I shake my head. “I didn’t come down this morning complaining like Drick was, did I?”

“No, but to be fair, that man complains about everything. I can’t imagine Link is awful to room with, though I can’t say that from experience.”

“I’m not,” Link says, probably having tuned in to his name. “I’m a considerate roommate. Drick is dick.”

We laugh.

“You can join us,” Lamar offers with a smile. “We’ll watch movies all night and cuddle. It’s a big king bed.”

“Who’s us?” Link asks.

“Leroy Wysik. Jersey.”

Link frowns as he looks around. “Let us discuss later.”

“Drick’s that bad that you’re considering sharing a bed with two other dudes instead of one?” Ethan asks.

Link scowls. “Yes.” He doesn’t expand, but I’m definitely curious now.

“Huh,” Ethan mutters. “If it’s that bad, Max might offer up the other side of his bed.”

“Oh,” Link muses, tilting his head. “Good thought. I speak to Max. If no, we talk, Gibbs.”

“Sure,” Lamar says.

We’re finally released for lunch and while eating in gear isn’t my favorite thing, I’m glad that this is the midday marker for the next set of events. The reason we’re actually here. The skills competitions.

I’m as excited as I am nervous. The only thing I’m really hoping to get out of this is seeing how I perform. If I make it on the boards, then cool. Otherwise, this is totally for fun.

Just as we’re finishing up eating, Lo sits next to me. I give him a wary look but he doesn’t say anything at all. Just watches me with his knowing smirk. Knowing that he somehow managed to get the better of me in front of people and I let my guard down.

This man is dangerous to be around. I need to be extra guarded in his company in public. I don’t want any questions.

I’m only Caulder Haines, pro hockey player for the Buffalo Skidmoss. Not Caulder Haines, gay pro hockey player. I refuse to be that. My sexuality shouldn’t matter and I’m going to prove that it doesn’t. If no one knows, I sure as hell can’t be treated differently.

I’m just a hockey player and I will not let Lo jeopardize that.

My eyes flicker to him and my cheeks flush. Fuck’s sake.

CHAPTER 10

LO

I’ve never toed the line of nearly revealing my secret quite so much. I mean, if it came out, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. This is a preference I share with Caulder. Though I’m not married to it quite like he is.

I’ve never before thought it would be fine if people knew. Although it would be. I know that. But I would still rather keep it to myself. It’s no one’s business. It sure as fuck isn’t the world’s business who’s in my bed. Who I’m fucking or who I love. No one needs to know anything about that side of my life—not even something as insignificant as the gender I’m attracted to.

Yet one night with Caulder and suddenly I’m thinking it’s not a big deal?

It was one night. We didn’t even fuck! But man do I love the way his cheeks heat. I love the bashful way he smiles and looks away. I really love how he constantly looks my way too. To be fair, he may just be doing so because he can feel me watching him.

However, I need to show him I respect him a little more than I’ve pulled off this morning. He’s made it very clear he doesn’t want anyone to know his sexuality, and I’m not going to be the one that outs him. It’s not my place and I like Caulder Haines. I sure as fuck don’t want to hurt him like that.

It’s not long after we eat before we’re brought to our feet and ushered toward the chute. We’re introduced one by one to the packed arena and pile into the boxes. Once again, the Pacific and Atlantic are paired together for this. Right now, the teams don’t truly matter because this is all an individual skills challenge. I bet if I wanted to join the other side, no one would stop me.

There’s a lot of waiting around as the announcers do their thing. Talking about the participating athletes and the events. How we’ll be scored. On and on. I do my best to listen their words and not stare at Caulder either. Instead, I look around the ice. It’s set up for the first challenge—fastest skater. Not one I’m in, but one that Caulder is. I’m excited to watch it.

Finally, they’re set to go. I shift on the bench to watch as Max Latham stands at the starting line. He’s bent at the knees and watching the ref with the whistle. Ready.

It blows and he takes off, digging his skate into the ice and shooting forward. The trick is to keep momentum going around the corners. I can see his knees shake a little on the second corner, but he doesn’t stumble. He really digs in and gains speed when he hits the next straight shot. Into the second set of corners, he glides, keeping as much speed as he can. Then he’s upright and finishing strong.

Max stands once he hits the line again and watches the clock. He glides around to slow down for a minute before heading for the bench. 13.991 seconds. That’s the time to beat.

No one does until Jiří gets 13.591 seconds, bringing Max down to second. Leroy Wysik stumbles and falls, careening into the boards. He gets up, shaking his head as he finishes. There’s not a lot of effort put into the end, since he’s lost too much time during the fall.

Finally, it’s Caulder’s turn and I’m holding my breath as I watch him. The whistle blows and my eyes are glued on his form as he moves around the rink. I don’t know if it’s just me, but it feels different from the onset. He’s quick, smooth, and never stops gaining speed.

Crossing the line, I twist to look at the time. 13.408. A grin spreads across my face as I turn to watch him come toward the bench. This man is humble as fuck. There’s no sign of excitement in his smile. He’s practically all business. There’s a soft smile, and a nod of acknowledgement, but otherwise he’s just a humble fucker, thanking those congratulating him.

He doesn’t take a seat next to me. Not that there’s a lot of room, but I could have made space. He sits with Ethan, unsurprisingly. However, my stomach jumps when his eyes meet mine. I smile, inclining my head. “Nice job,” I mouth to him.

His smile climbs a little and he mouths, “Thanks.”

A few more players race, but the top three do not change. Caulder, Jiří, Max. I’m feeling good with those odds. A couple player interviews take place while they switch up the ice for the next competition. I get up, not so subtly watching Caulder talk to Avianna Zayn, the anchor from Sports Spot.

Since I can’t truly hear what he’s saying, I’m just watching his lips move. His sweet, sexy mouth.

After a minute, I turn away and take my seat again. I’m not staring. I’m far better than that. I continue to remind myself of this until they have the second event set up. One timers.

This is kind of an accuracy shot. We have nine pucks to shoot from three different spots, passed to us by someone on the sides. The goal is broken up into zones that have tassels hanging down. The top three or four inches is worth four points. Dropping down diagonally toward the bottom of the bars is worth three points. Anywhere in the middle outside of that, is worth two points. If the dividers that separate the sections are hit—one point. Hitting the bumper or missing the goal entirely is zero points. With one minute to take all the shots.

I’m a decent shot, top of the net usually being my preference. Hopefully that works in my favor. There’s a big show of who’s competing in this competition. The first out is Mattias, who scores twenty points. The first person out of the box gets somewhat of a raw deal. He’s the one to beat.

Jiří goes next and earns nineteen points. Then it’s Caulder. I only root for him internally, since I’m competing here too. His first three shots are all fours. Followed by two twos. Four. Then two more twos and a one. He now leads with twenty-three. Fuck yeah, Caulder!

His eyes flicker to mine as he comes back to the bench. I try not to change my expression. Still, Caulder bows his head to break eye contact as he takes a seat.

I’m last. Taking a breath, I decide my strategy is to concentrate on fours while the angle is better. I sink all three. Then move to the center of the circle; three, four, three. Currently tied with Caulder. I’m shit at this next angle though, so there’s a chance that I’ll fail all three. Which I do actually miss two. But I manage a two as well, bringing me to twenty-five. Fuck yeah!

When I turn around, my eyes immediately turn to Caulder’s. It’s magnetic. I can’t stop myself. Our eyes remain locked as I skate toward the bench. He smiles, nods his head. I take that as congratulations.

I get drawn into an interview while the ice is rearranged.

“What was your strategy going into that round?” Avianna asks me, then tilts the mic to me.

“Focusing on the angles I know I can make shots at,” I say, shrugging. “I know my weaknesses and that last angle is my kryptonite. Knowing your weaknesses is as important as knowing your strengths.”

“Do you feel like this particular skills event was made for you? Your sweet spot is always the top of the net.”

I grin. “Kind of, yeah. When I realized as a teenager that my shots were always swinging high, I decided to concentrate on honing those skills instead of trying to change what I was naturally doing. It’s worked out well for me this far.”

“It certainly has. Congratulations on this round and good luck.”

“Thank you,” I say and turn back to the bench. Once again, my gaze is drawn to Caulder. He’s not looking at me, though. He’s talking to Ethan. That’s fine. I take a seat with Mattias between me and Caulder.

The next challenge is passing, where we’re skating from crease to crease and have forty-five seconds to shoot twelve pucks at a cluster of blocks of different sizes. Each block is worth points, the biggest worth one and the smallest worth three.

This one is more difficult than it appears to be. Mostly because the clock is working against you. Forty-five seconds isn’t long, and you have to get to your target and not only get the shots off quickly, but accurately. I’m happy to be toward the end of the lineup so I can see what strategies others are taking.

I get halfway through and realize I need to pick up the pace getting between pucks. It makes my passes a little sloppy, but I manage to score enough points to put me in second. That is, until Caulder kicks me out of second. And then Link kicks me out of third, so I end up in fourth.

Hardest shot is next. We have two attempts with a puck thirty feet from the goal. There’s a sensor in the puck and other sensors around the goal that read the speed. This is probably one of my favorite events. I love to sling the puck as hard as I can. The power in shooting that puck is a great feeling.

In the end, I’m not fast enough to get beyond the fourth. Which is fine. It’s still good. While the standings aren’t quite telling yet because we’ve all played between two and four skills. It won’t be until the very last one that we truly know who is where.

Up next is stick handling. There are obstacles in the way that you have to go around. Tight together obstacles and wide ones where we skate around them. Bigger blocks that we have to move backwards to get around, and then two bars in an unconnected T and we have to move the puck between the broken part before shooting it into the net and stopping the clock.

I chose to sit this one out. Which means I’m going to take this opportunity to close the distance between me and Caulder until I’m sitting next to him again as those between us get to their feet and take their turns.

The one to watch is Max. The man looks like he’s on rails when he moves around the ice. If there was ever someone who had ice in their blood, it’s Max Latham. He’s ridiculously quick to watch. It’s like the difference between a border collie moving like they’re made of elastic and then the husky who doesn’t give a fuck.

Max is the border collie. He’s just magic to watch fly through the course flawlessly. Effortlessly good. After seeing him in this event, I decide that if he can make it through the obstacle course, he’s going to be the one to beat. His range in skills is intense.

“Damn,” Link says next to me. “Max is a beast.” 

I chuckle. “Couldn’t say it better myself.”

He ends with a time of 25.775 seconds. Stupidly impressive.

Almost equally impressive is Noah Kain. He’s almost more elegant, but just a little slower. 26.939.

“Yep, made a good decision not to participate in that one,” Caulder comments.

I glance his way to see Ethan nod. “I think we should set that shit up back home, though. We need to practice those moves. We can’t all be Max.”

Max winks at him, giving him a hand flip and a big grin.

Ethan tosses him a teasing kiss.

I listen half-heartedly as more interviews take place while the ice is once more rearranged. My attention is, once again, on Caulder. Because why the fuck not? Apparently, he’s going to be my weekend obsession. My guess is I could probably have done better at these events if I hadn’t had his dick down my throat.

Those saucy memories just keep springing up.

Last event in round one is accuracy. There are four targets, one at each corner of the goal. We need to hit each. There’s a player at each side of the net passing us pucks.

I anticipate I’ll do okay with the top two corners. The bottoms are going to be my weakness; so my strategy is aiming for those first.

I’m about mid pack when I head out. True to form, it takes me several pucks to get the first two. Far too many attempts. Especially with the bottom right corner. However, once I actually hit that bitch, the top two are easy and I shatter the Styrofoam targets easily.

Caulder does far better than me. Naturally. I’ve always admired him as a hockey player. He’s damn good, and his concentration is commendable. While I know my attention on him has been borderline obsessive for reasons other than hockey, he’s fucking good. My admiration of his skills has also increased.

In the end, I make the top eight at number five. Not bad. Not nearly as impressive as Max in first, and fucking Caulder in second! I’m not surprised by his talent, he’s just that amazing. I always knew he was.

Yet, as I listen to him talk to reporters, he’s humble as fuck, claiming that the next round could very well drop him to the bottom. That there’s a reason he doesn’t often get called for shootouts. He’s not the best one-on-one.

When asked what strategy he has going in, he kind of laughs. “My goalie will basically be picked for me by that time,” he says, referring to the order of events beginning with Ivanovich in eighth with points and then moving up to first from there. “So it really depends on which goalie I get.”

“Any predictions on who you’ll end up facing?” Avianna asks.

Caulder laughs again, shaking his head. “Azure Dayne. He’s not only a badass—can I say that? No, sorry. He’s not only a beast, but his goalie stare is intense. I won’t be surprised if he’s picked last, and while no one likes to be picked last, in this case, it’s a compliment. No one wants to face the most difficult goalie one-on-one.”

I glance toward the chute and wonder if I should choose Azure. Just so Caulder has a fighting chance. Azure is scary good in a shootout. There’s no way I’m going to win this thing against Max. Not after seeing the way he moved in the stick handling competition. He’s the one to beat, with Caulder and Noah hot on his heels.

Caulder sits next to me and glances my way with a cute little smile. “You having fun watching me like a creep?” he murmurs.

A grin spreads across my face. “Just scoping out my competition, Haines. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He snorts. “Right. Forgive me for my assumption.”

I’d love to keep this banter going, but I don’t. The line is very close right now, so I turn my attention to the peeps putting out the new obstacles.

“Which part of this has you most worried?” I ask.

“The second to last. Lifting the puck over the barrier and shooting into the tiny ass net.” He shakes his head. “I’m decent at accuracy, but that part makes me most nervous. You?”

“Moving around the little bridges and only hitting the green ones. There’s a reason I didn’t do stick handling.”

Caulder smirks. “I don’t know, Duval. I think you’re pretty good at handling a stick.”

The teasing way his eyes glint at me makes my stomach flip. Fuck. I’m going to show him how I can handle a stick. As soon as we’re back in the room.

This better hurry the fuck up. 

CHAPTER 11

CAULDER

I don’t know why I’m fucking flirting with this man right now. It’s dangerous. Far too fucking dangerous. I’m slipping. I can’t afford to. But god, I love the way he smirks at me. It’s sensual and sexy as fuck.

He licks his lips and I can tell he’s considering his response. We’re bordering on far too fucking inappropriate if overheard. Guys banter, I know that. We can likely play it off. But I think there are probably far too many casual shots of us staring at each other to successfully convince anyone it’s just teasing.

Maybe we can run the story of a new bromance. We’re forced to room together and have found common teasing ground in hockey. Giving each other a hard time. Trying to mess with the other’s mental game.

He’s a damn good player or he wouldn’t be here right now. I have a suspicion he’s not as used to compartmentalizing being attracted to those around him as much as I am. Lo’s said that the only people who know he’s gay are those who have zero ties to hockey. Which tells me hockey players either aren’t his usual type and therefore he doesn’t often face attraction to those around him. Or I’m really getting to him.

Whereas I am constantly reminding myself that these men are my colleagues, and I will not think of them in any other capacity. Most of the time when I find someone in hockey attractive now, it’s barely a mental acknowledgement. A note of, oh, he’s hot, and then that shit gets stuffed in a box in the back of my mind, never to be looked at again.

“It’s a new stick,” he comments at last, tapping his stick on the ice. “I’m still quite fascinated with how shiny and new it is. Been a bit distracting.”

I chuckle and sit back a bit to look around. 

“My bet is on Max,” he says. “That man’s going to bring it home.”

“No argument there.” I shake my head, and look to where Max is still out talking to the TV anchors. He has a big smile on his face, but there’s a calmness that’s new in recent years. Not something that I recognize in Max yet.

His air of recklessness is no more. He can still be high energy, but he’s far more reserved than he was previously. It’s a good look on him, even if it’s still a jarring change.

“He deserves it,” Noah says, flashing us a smile.

A sick feeling rolls in my stomach that maybe he heard us kinda, sorta flirting. I hold my breath but then berate myself. Out of anyone who could overhear us, Noah isn’t going to be one to say anything.

I pay a lot of attention to all the LGBTQIA+ athletes from a distance. Which means reading a lot of articles and social media accounts. Noah is probably one of the quietest; so I’m confident he’s going to keep whatever he hears to himself. On more than one occasion, I’ve heard and read interviews with him where they’re asking about someone else, and his comment is always ‘that’s not my place to say.’

It’s always made me a Noah fan.

Everyone outside of the top eight leaves the ice. The goalies come out onto the ice and I watch them as they warm up. Stretch and do sexy little pelvic humps toward the ice. Yep, always sexy. The videos where there’s someone’s voiceover saying ‘you want to know why we watch hockey? This right here. Why is no one talking about it?’ is always over players stretching. Frogs and downward dogs. The hip thrusts to the ice.

I mean, I see it. I’d watch hockey for the stretching too. Like it or not, it’s hot. Meh, not sorry.

The one-on-one goalie shootout is pretty straight forward. There are two sets of pucks, the first five are worth one point each and must be played first. The line of pucks on the blue line are worth two points. There’s a minute to shoot as many as possible and make as many shots as possible.

We’re on our feet now in a line opposite the goalies. They’re announced one at a time and I make an internal prediction on who the last two goalies are going to be. Azure for sure. Maybe Lamar.

I’ve got some time to wait, so I get comfortable on a knee and watch as Avianna asks Ivanovich who he’s choosing.

“I choose Drick,” he says.

“Ah, staring him down. Right across from you. Why did you choose Drick?”

“He in front of me. Seems good reason.”

Avianna laughs. “Good reason. Okay.”

They get in position, and I watch how this is going to go down. It’s straightforward as far as shooting goes. Ivanovich does okay, ending with nine points. Jiří does not do as well, only gaining two. I cringe.

Up next is Mattias Jönsson.

“Why are you choosing Trustein?”

“I cannot score against others on breakaways. Not good. Best odds for me.”

Avianna chuckles.

I shake my head. He gets through the five one-points quickly, sinking two, then ends with six points. As they’re skating back this way, I overhear Trustein say, “Stopped more than you attempted, buddy.”

Mattias doesn’t respond until he meets my eyes, while I hold my glove out to him. “Good thing I do not speak English. Just noise from Trustein.”

I laugh and turn my attention to Lo as Avianna asks. “All right, Laurent. Who’s it going to be?”

“I’m going to have to go with Gibbon.”

“Ooooo,” Avianna comments. “The big man who doesn’t remember he’s a goalie and shoots his shots. All right.”

Lamar winks as he heads for the net, pulling his helmet down as he does. Not for the first time, I think I’m glad I’m not a goalie. Lo works through the first five, making one. He gets the first two-point, true to form, in the upper corner.

But Lamar knows his moves and Lo’s forced to change it up. He scores another two by moving it around Lamar as Lamar gets down to block and swings it around the side. I grin when it goes through. The last puck is a wild card for Lo and I know he’s taking a chance as he attempts to shoot it right between Lamar’s split legs.

He makes it and Lo ends with seven points. I laugh. Lo meets my eyes as soon as he turns around, giving me a smirk as he skates by.

I tune out most of Niklas’ and Link’s turns as I concentrate on mentally getting prepared for my turn. It comes quicker than I think I’m ready for and before long, Avianna is next to me.

“Two choices, Caulder. Who’s it going to be?”

It’s between Azure and Davies. I just have to beat three points to advance. Who do I have a better chance at scoring on? Probably Davies so I’m not sure why I say, “Azure.”

“Not what I anticipated. Why Azure?”

I meet Azure’s eyes. There’s no smile there. Nothing to suggest he heard me choose him at all. Shrugging, I say, “He’s a tough player. I’ve never had an opportunity to face him one-on-one.”

“Risky time to try here, but I like that reason. Good luck.” She claps my arm.

That seems to be Azure’s cue. As I face him at the ready, I decide half the reason Azure is such an avoided opponent is because he has a very cold, closed expression. It’s devoid of emotion. Looking in his eyes has a way of throwing off a player’s game. So I avoid doing so.

I think the other reason might be because he’s unusual by staying almost stationary as he waits for the puck to come at him. He moves at the last minute, almost anticipating half a second before we shoot how it’s going to go.

The whistle sounds and I head in. Azure blocks all five of the first attempts, even as I shoot around the net, trying to find a weakness. I manage to sink two of the two-point pucks. It’s luck more than skill. One gets in as it bounces back from Azure’s shoulder, not because I had a clean shot. The other was simply fucking luck. Straight up. Off his right skate. There was no talent there.

Somehow, I get to the final round by the skin of my teeth. I drop onto the bench between Mattias and Lo. Max is up next and he ties for second most shots.

“Max killing it,” Mattias says, tsking. “He leave no chance for us.”

I chuckle as he gets to his feet. Definitely no disagreement there. He’s one of two eliminated this round, the second being Jiří. Waving him off, I promise to see him after the game. Whatever we do after, I’ll definitely catch up with him.

Lo knocks his shoulder into mine and we silently watch the peeps on the ice change up the event. We remain quiet in companionable silence and I think now he’s finally managing to get his head in the game. Focusing and channeling his attention on this event.

Again, we begin at the bottom of the stack, Ivanovich first. He heads through the obstacle course strong through the bridges, but has a little trip up where his skates hit each other. He ends with 49.365 seconds.

Then it’s Lo’s turn and I stare, leaning closer to the half wall to watch him. Keeping my eyes on him. Silently, I’m chanting, “Come on, Lo. Come on.” He stumbles a little at the three nets beyond the bar, but makes it up by long-shot shooting at the end, hitting the target and signaling the buzzer.

Lo takes a breath, letting his head drop back. He’s currently leading the line up with 43.435 seconds. He’s now the man to beat! My grin is huge when he climbs the wall and knocks my glove with his. “Nice, Lo.”

He smiles.

We sit in silence watching Link and Niklas take their turns. Link ends up going through more than a dozen pucks at the three nets and ends with over a minute and a quarter. He lets his head fall back as he glides toward the bench.

“No speak,” he grumbles when he steps into the box. “I did shit.”

There’s no word for encouragement here. I get it.

Then it’s my turn. Lo claps my arm on the way by but I’m already focused on the task at hand. With the puck at the ready, right in front of my stick, I look up and wait for the signal. It sounds and I take off, pushing it forward and swinging around the back of the net. The first set of obstacles are a dozen small bridges, all lit and set up like a cricket field. Five are lit green, the others blue. They’re at different angles and facing various directions. Our task is to get through them, placing the puck only through the green ones.

I stumble a little as I slide to the far right, nearly missing one. A second, my stick gets stuck and I end up flinging the bridge off. But I make it through without many more hiccups. The one I’m most dreading is right in front of me now.

There’s a short barrier, maybe two inches high. A gaggle of pucks behind it. Beyond are the three small, short nets. Two of which are three times wider than the thin one.

I slow down and concentrate. Yes, I’m timed, but I could stand here like Link and just shoot until I miss what feels like a hundred shots. Or I can take the extra breaths and focus. Knowing this is probably my Achilles heel, I choose to focus.

The first long one is easy enough. I miss the narrow one and have to calm myself down. It’s fine. This is fine. The second attempt goes in. My first attempt at the second long one goes in and I speed on, grabbing the intended puck and make my way through to the next obstacle—weaving between wide barriers.

The trick isn’t just speed, it’s skating skills and puck control. Losing the puck on one of these switchbacks could cost you everything. I slow it down, just a little, and stare at one goal at a time. Left, turn, right, turn. Two down. Four down. Six down. Eight.

That’s it, I take it for the goal, digging my skates in and taking a shot a dozen feet away. The buzzer sounds and I turn for the timer. Fuck yeah! I didn’t suck at this. I’m less than a half a second behind Lo at 43.963 seconds. I’ll fucking take it!

Chest heaving, I take a seat.

“Way to go, Caulder,” Lo cheers.

I smile and we all turn to watch Max. Honestly, he’s the one to beat today. He has probably the most skill in all areas combined, the most rounded player among us. We all have our strong points where we excel, but we all have weaknesses too. That’s been proven today.

Max, though. I’m not sure what his weakness is.

The bench is silent as we watch him. I think we’re all holding our breaths.

He’s quick. So damn quick. Nearly flawless. The little hiccups that would cost anyone else a second or two, Max manages to play off as if they didn’t make him stumble at all. His bridges are easy. His transition to the nets is easy. Weaving among the barriers is like a walk on the beach. He has time to get right up to the net to assure his win and sinks it, sounding the buzzer.

He wins by almost three fucking seconds, ending it at 40.606!

As bummed as I am at losing, Max is a damn legend.

“Damn,” Lo says, shaking his head. “We never stood a chance.”

I laugh as I get to my feet. We really didn’t.

“Time for interviews. Then we’re getting out of here.”

He meets my eyes, and I don’t have to imagine the heat in his gaze. My cock twitches in my cup and I stifle a shudder. “Yeah,” I agree, turning my back on him. No eye contact right now or I’m going to end up rethinking catching up with Mattias. I’m already reasoning that we have tomorrow night, too. It can be postponed.

But no. Definitely not. I’m not putting hooking up first. Even though this is likely the one and only time it’ll happen until I retire and I should be getting my fill. Not even for that.

I’m a hockey player first. I keep my commitments.

Glancing at Lo behind me, I mentally groan. He makes it so hard to be strong!

CHAPTER 12

LO

I stick close to Caulder, hoping I can entice him to come back to the room with me. Maybe if I emphasize come enough times and make my intent clear, I can coax him back. Mattias falls into line with him before I can catch up and I’m following them down the chute.

Since I was the player to beat for a hot minute for the obstacle course line, there are several people wanting to talk to me as I sit on the bench and begin unlacing my skates. At least with Caulder finishing just later than me, there are also journalists around him, and he can’t slip away.

Interviews last for several minutes and I’m asked the same questions repeatedly. What was my strategy? How do I feel about Max winning? How has my experience been at my first All-Star Games so far?

Blah, blah, blah. Finally, they are ushered out of the locker room, and we can get back to freeing our junk from the cups they’ve been locked in for several hours and shower. I’m careful to pace myself with how quickly Caulder undresses so he doesn’t get away before I can get him back to the room.

Is it too much to join him in the shower? That’s crossing a line, right? Probably. Instead of trying that, I slip into the shower across from him, keeping my eyes trained on the tile just beyond the curtain in hopes that I catch his feet.

I’m too anxious that I’m going to miss him though, which is stupid since we’re both headed to the damn bus. Still, I’d like to score a seat with him before he becomes convinced to go celebrate with others.

Wow. I’m becoming obsessed. That’s lame. For a second, I stand under the water and try to decide whether I want to force myself to let this go or not. I mean, we have two more nights. That’s it. It’s not like this thing we’re doing goes beyond this weekend. We said as much last night.

Then yeah, I’m totally going to allow this three-day obsession.

What I’m not going to do is stalk him in the showers. I clean thoroughly, but quickly, then wrap my towel around my waist and get back to the bench. My clothes are where I left them, so I spend a minute drying off before slipping into my underwear and onto the bench.

I can stall a little because it’s not a lie that I hate putting wet feet into socks. That’s gross. I let my feet air dry as I tap on my phone for a few minutes.

Caulder is there a minute later. His eyes meet mine and fuck, I want to bend him over the bench right now. One corner of his lips curls as if he knows what I’m thinking. But again, before I can say anything, Ethan is on his other side and is talking about something.

Keeping my scowl contained, I focus on matching my pace with Caulder’s so I’m on my feet and following him out of the locker room by the time he’s finished. I don’t manage a seat with him on the bus, but when he sits, his eyes meet mine when I walk by.

I don’t pretend not to stare. I fucking stare. I’m at least partially confident he feels the same need I do, since his gaze doesn’t leave mine as I walk by until we’re forced to break eye contact. I end up a few rows back, but sit at the edge so I can still see him. I’m slightly irritated by how Ethan is keeping him engaged.

In the row beside me, a phone rings and I reflexively look over. Max is sitting at the window with Noah next to him. It’s Max’s phone and he pulls it out. A smile climbs his face as he answers on video.

“Hey,” Max greets.

“Hi. You won, Max. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“You watched it all?” Max asks.

“Of course, I did. Come here, Ez. Tell Daddy you’re proud of him.”

There’s no answer. I’m not sure if that’s a kid or an animal Deryke’s putting on the screen. I’m not at the right angle to see.

“Hi, Ezzy. You haven’t grown, have you? You’re not allowed to grow when Daddy’s gone!” Max teases.

I find I’m smiling.

“Tell Daddy how proud of him we are,” Deryke says.

This time I hear a quick hum or something. Definitely human. I shift in my seat to try to peek at the screen. I’m not the only one being nosy, which is comforting. Behind them, Larson is leaning over the seat.

“You going back to the hotel?” Deryke asks.

Noah reaches over and pulls the phone toward him. “I’m taking him out to celebrate,” he says. “Ezloooo!” he coos, his voice morphing into that tone that adults use to speak to babies, further confirming this is a child and not a pet. “Hey, sweet baby. Tell your Dad that I’m taking your Daddy out to celebrate. They’re just going to have to dirty their screens later.”

“Inappropriate,” Max mutters, pulling his phone away. “Ugh. Ignore him, Ez.”

I can barely make out Deryke’s chuckle. “Have fun, Max. Be good.”

“I will,” Max promises.

“His days of crazy are over,” Noah says.

“Someone tied his ass down!” Larson says with a cackle.

Max sighs. “Love you. I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel.”

“Okay. Love you.”

The call ends and Max glares at Larson before looking at Noah.

“Why didn’t they come to the game?” Larson asks.

“Ezlo’s too little. In a couple years, it’d be fine, but this wouldn’t be fun for him,” Max explains.

“I didn’t know you had a kid,” Lamar comments from the seat in front of me. He’s half in the aisle now, leaning over.

Max nods, a smile splitting his face. He turns the phone around and shows us his home screen, a picture of him, Deryke, and a newborn. “This is from Christmas, just after bringing him home. He was just a couple weeks old.”

There’s a chorus of aww and I’m amused at how sweet it is when his phone gets passed around so everyone can look at his son.

“You going to get him on skates?” Larson asks.

“Yep. Probably early this summer. We’ll be working on his balance and core muscles with a bunch of toys when he’s a little older. Bouncy things that I swear should be made for adults, too. And sitting. Deryke’s already bought little rubber-bladed training skates that we’ll get on his feet once he starts toddling around.”

Max is content to talk about Ezlo as long as people continue asking questions. And they do. All the players in the seats around us are turned to face him, and everyone wants to know about his baby.

I’ve never had the occasion to speak to Max much. My knowledge of Max Latham has been from afar. His wild days and then disappearance followed by his abrupt change the summer the St. Andrew’s Cross video leaked. As I watch him now, all I see is a proud father. He clearly adores his child and is content to sit there and brag about a two-month-old instead of the incredible win he took an hour ago.

My gaze drifts up to Caulder and lazily, I wonder if that’s the kind of father he’ll be, too. I may not know him well, but I think I know enough about his character to confidently confirm that yes, that’s the exact kind of father Caulder would be.

I’m still lazily musing over this when we get back to the hotel. We have almost no luggage and yet, this feels like the slow funneling off an airplane as I wait toward the back. I stare out the window, not seeing Caulder.

Once again, I muse about how ridiculous I’m being. It’s not like he won’t come back to the room at some point. I could just wait there.

By the time I step off the bus, he’s obviously already inside. I follow the other hockey players through the front doors and pause when I see Ethan and his husbands. Ethan’s head is tipped slightly back, his eyes closed, a happy smile on his face. Jakub’s lips are pressed to his forehead. Creed’s are against his jaw.

I’m unfamiliar with the longing that settles in my chest. There’s never been a drive in me to settle down. I’ve never given the idea of having a serious partner or marriage or relationship of any kind much thought. There’s plenty of time for that.

Looking at them, I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like to step into the hotel lobby after a day of competing to someone waiting for me. Proud of me. Ready to wrap me in their arms and tell me how amazing I did, even if I sucked.

Ethan didn’t suck. I’m not saying that. But I imagine even if Max scored dead last in points, Deryke would have told him how proud they were of him. Creed and Jakub would too.

I’m jostled and shift to find Mattias frowning at me. “You don’t hate on gay men,” he grumbles. “They kiss if want to.”

The shock of his words makes me stare at him. How was I looking at them? My eyes flicker to them again, none of which are looking this way, thankfully.

Then Caulder is there, gently pushing Mattias back. “He’s not hating on them,” Caulder says, laughing. “Boy is jealous. Look at them—who wouldn’t want to be loved like that?”

Mattias looks at the trio and nods. “I do,” he agrees, nodding. He gives me another glare and turns for the elevator. “Meet in twenty minutes, yeah?”

“We’ll be down here,” Caulder says.

Mattias nods again while walking away, and Caulder looks at me with amusement. “Why were you glaring?”

“I wasn’t. Not intentionally anyway.”

“You were definitely staring. Why?”

I give him a bemused look. “You know I’m not homophobic, Caulder,” I deadpan. There’s silent laughter in his eyes. “Actually, it was more along the lines of what you said. I was caught wondering what it would be like to walk into the lobby and into the arms of someone who loves me.”

Caulder glances their way and nods.

“You going out?” I ask.

He sighs. “Yeah for a while. We haven’t seen Mattias much since he was traded, so we’re going out. Probably with Noah and Max and… their Gays Can Play crew.”

“You join them often?” I ask, raising a brow.

Caulder grins. “No. But I think tonight we’re just going out as a big group instead of splitting into their smaller group and everyone else.”

I nod, staring at him. Willing him to stay here with me instead.

“Want to come with us?” he asks instead.

What I want is to go upstairs. Drag this man with me. I want to fuck him.

There’s no way he doesn’t know this. Caulder takes a step closer to me. “I’m not going to stay long. Come with me.”

I shiver at his words. “Yeah, fine.”

He shifts his position so he’s standing beside me and shoves his hands into his pockets. We wait quietly, not talking, for the next twenty minutes as the guys we’re meeting join us. There are a few wives and girlfriends too. I wonder what the hotel did with that information when some of these people who they were trying to make share a room showed up with families in tow.

What a fuckshow.

The place we go to is close by. A ten-minute walk, only a handful of blocks down the road. There’s loud music and a dance floor, but there are also a bunch of booths and tables around two walls, a large bar, and a door that has people coming and going. I think maybe it’s a dining room when I watch a waitress go in with a tray filled with food.

We don’t head for that room, but crowd around a handful of high-top tables, sliding them together and dragging chairs over. I end up across from Caulder. It’s loud, so any conversation is practically yelling.

It’s a struggle to keep my attention moving around instead of staring at him, but Mattias is still shooting me dirty looks so I try my best. My fingers itch to touch him. Anywhere. I’m not picky right now. When I can’t take it anymore, I slide my chair further into the table and reach my foot across to hook along his chair.

His eyes snap up to mine when I rub the inside of my leg against his. Heat flares brightly in his eyes. I’m annoyed that the moment’s broken when a group of women gather around us. One steals Caulder’s attention.

I can see his polite detachment. He smiles and talks, leans in to hear her and to speak. I don’t stop rubbing his leg with mine until his ankle hooks around me to keep me still. A smirk curls my lips, but he doesn’t look my way and his attention doesn’t waver from the girl in front of him.

Then the girls are dragging some of our group onto the dance floor—Mattias, Link, Menlo, Niklas… and Caulder. Caulder allows himself to be pulled away, but he turns and meets Creed’s eyes. Creed nods.

“Is that code?” I yell across the table.

Creed looks at me and nods again. “Yep. He’s a nice guy, so he rarely denies a dance as long as they’re not drunk and trying to grope. But if he’s not into the girl, he’ll meet my eyes on his way out and then the gay boys will rescue him in a minute.”

“He likes nice girls,” Ethan says. “But he’s pretty picky.”

I have to say, I’m rather impressed that Caulder’s managed to keep his sexuality hidden from these three. Then again, I’m not sure I’d have figured it out if he hadn’t told me. I was ready to write off his freakout as a straight man instantly regretting liking another man sucking his dick.

“All right,” Ethan announces, getting to his feet and stretching with his arms over his head. “Time for the gay kids to dance with their straight boo for a bit. Coming Noah? Max?”

Noah nods, dragging Max and Azure with him. I glance at Jakub and he smiles. “I don’t dance. Usually, it’s me and Lix sitting out on the occasions where dancing comes up.”

“Ah.”

“You can join them,” Jakub says. “It won’t be long before Mattias does.”

“Yeah?”

He nods again. “More times than not, our team dances together forgetting whoever they'd gone to the dance floor with. Just a vibe. Skidmoss is a close family.”

Shrugging, I get to my feet and head for the dance floor. Sure enough, Creed has already pulled Caulder away from the girl and between him, Ethan, and Max. Caulder doesn’t look uncomfortable. He’s laughing, leaning in close to hear and be heard, his hand is on Creed’s chest as he does.

There are light touches. Definitely close dancing. And sure enough, Mattias joins them, then Menlo and Link. I didn’t see Lamar at the table, but it isn’t long before he’s in the group, too.

Noah pulls me in when I get close, wrapping an arm around my waist, and dancing. I match his energy, but it isn’t long before he backs away and finds a different partner. I dance with Lamar and then Creed.

Finally, Caulder is pressed against me and that’s where we stay for a long fucking time until he leans in, lips at my ear and says, “It’s time to go.”

Yes. Yes, it is. My dick is straining right now. I have plans for this man and it sure as fuck doesn’t include a dance floor.

CHAPTER 13

CAULDER

The walk back feels like it takes an hour. My entire body is buzzing with need. I can feel his hands on me through my clothes. My skin burns. I can’t remember the last time, if ever, my cock has ached so bad.

“Jakub says your team often dances together like that,” Lo comments as we walk down the sidewalk.

I nod. “Any time I give one of them a ‘rescue me in five minutes’ face, yes.”

“Any of them?”

I shrug. “Some are better at understanding than others. Ethan, Creed, and Jakub do right away. Lucien and his wife, Bianca, are really good about it. Sacha and Asael. Three…” I trail off. “A couple others. Some are oblivious, so I don’t bother. They mean well, but reading body language is not their strong suit. Which is fine. It’s not their job to rescue me.”

“Why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to dance?”

I sigh. “Image,” I admit, shrugging. “I enjoy hanging out with the team. They’re good friends. There’s a club in Buffalo—Scepter—that’s our place.” I take a quick glance around to make sure no one’s listening. But it’s late so there aren’t many people wandering the streets right now. “Usually, I can manage to keep the image without resorting to dancing. Like walking a girl out to catch their ride and I just don’t go back in and head home instead.”

“Mmm,” Lo hums.

“Sometimes I get dragged out and, if she’s not a creep, I’ll dance for a song or two before they come out to pull me into the group and yeah, we end up dancing for a while. But there are also those that I refuse to go near, and it takes a different kind of rescue call.”

Lo huffs. “Yep, I know the kind.”

We don’t speak as we walk through the hotel lobby. Finally, there’s no more yelling at reception. Probably because they’ve more than double booked their rooms and therefore there’s no one checking in.

Our silence continues into the elevator. The air feels charged. Like it’s crackling between us. My dick is pressed against the zipper of my pants painfully, and every inch of my body feels sensitive.

The hall is quiet as we walk to our room. I feel like we’re running. Racing. Finally, we’re standing in front of our door and Lo uses his keycard to open it. I step inside and turn, waiting for him to close it. He doesn’t let it slam. Once it’s shut, he throws all the extra locks before turning to me.

We stare at each other in the dim light. A beat passes. Two. I’m not sure which of us moves first. Likely both. On the third beat, we practically lunge at each other. Our mouths collide almost painfully as we begin tearing at the other’s clothes right there in front of the door.

He bites my lip. I suck on his tongue. He scratches my back. I dig my fingers into his ass. We struggle and fumble as we try to get undressed without breaking the kiss, while simultaneously touching everywhere. It takes us longer than it would have if we’d just stripped first.

I try to back into the room, but Lo pulls me into the bathroom first.

“I have plans and I need you squeaky clean, Caulder,” he says as he shoves me into the shower.

A moment of trepidation shudders through me, but the shock of the cold water on my skin makes me jump. I yank Lo under the water so he can also enjoy the icy touch. He shivers violently, but then we’re kissing again. Groping. Running our hands everywhere.

I don’t wash him, but his hands move over me with soap from the pump on the wall. I’m not sure if he actually got the body wash. There’s a chance he could be cleaning me with hair conditioner.

He’s thorough as he implied he was going to be, but I’m not at all convinced he’s taking his time for the sole purpose of making sure I’m clean. Not with the way he fondles my balls, presses against my taint repeatedly, strokes my dick over and over, and definitely washes my crack. His finger pressing teasingly against my hole makes my dick leak.

I have no concept of how much time passes. We don’t run out of hot water, which means they have a damn good water heating system or we’re not in the shower as long as I think we are. When we finally get out, we don’t bother drying. We stumble into the room, nearly tripping over our discarded clothes on the way, and fall onto the bed.

Lo doesn’t leave me for lube and condoms, so I’m at least confident he’s not going to try to go right to sex. Which means I have time to decide how I feel about it. I mean, I barely know this guy. But then again, who says I have to marry the first guy I have sex with? This isn’t the nineteen-thirties.

He pushes me up the bed, his hand under my ass as he drags me with him. Then his wet, hard body is on mine and we’re both groaning as we rub together. The sweet friction of our dicks rubbing, grinding. I expect to stay like this, so I’m surprised when his mouth comes off mine and he says in the sexiest husky voice, “Roll over.”

My breath catches. I remind myself he didn’t get lube or a condom, so I adjust until I’m on my stomach.

His hand moves across my ass, feeling me, gripping my ass cheeks. He spreads them apart. My face heats but Lo groans. “So fucking pretty,” he mutters.

A shiver races down my spine.

“Frog for me. Get this ass up a little.”

I adjust, spreading my legs and bending my knees. My back arches at the base, bringing my ass into the air a bit. Angling it to his face.

His hands remain on me, and my face continues to burn. There’s something unnerving, unsettling, and sexy as fuck showing someone your asshole. This isn’t a prostate exam. This isn’t a health screening. This man is looking at my ass for entirely sexual reasons.

Not just my ass. My hole.

Lo’s finger traces along my crack, barely brushing over said hole. He presses his finger into my taint again and I twitch. When his fingers come back up, he presses against my hole. “Sexy,” he murmurs.

A moment goes by where he does nothing else except move the pad of his thumb over my hole. Just touching me. Not pressing, not teasing. Just touching me.

His hand leaves, and the bed shifts. Then his face is between my cheeks and before I have time to become embarrassed, his mouth is on my hole. A choked sound leaves my throat as I grip the bedding. He laps at me, much like his finger had been moving. Petting me with his tongue.

It doesn’t last long before he presses his face in further and his tongue is a lot more persistent. Pressing and pushing, trying to break in, as his teeth skim my sensitive flesh.

The sounds that leave my mouth don’t sound human. I press my face into the bed, trying to keep my guttural noises quiet. His hands gripping my cheeks move in closer to my crack, spreading them wider.

I nearly yelp when he somehow buries his face in my ass.

There’s something almost disturbing about it. It shouldn’t be hot or sexy or feel good, right? I mean, it’s an ass. But fuck, nothing has ever hit home quite like this.

When his tongue finally loosens my hole and slips inside, my entire body reacts. I shudder, and curl on myself more, trying to present my ass a little more. My hips rock as I try to ride his tongue.

Lo pulses it in and out of me, licks along my crack, and then sucks my hole. My hands dig into the bed.

My cock is so fucking hard. It throbs with need so I reach down to squeeze it. Lo bats it away and I hear, “Uh uh.”

“Please,” I whine. “Fuck, it feels good, Lo. I need to come.”

This man doubles down. His mouth on me becomes more insistent. Determined. He releases a cheek and reaches for my dick, pulling it back under me and rubbing it. Not quite what I need, but the extra stimulation is beautiful. His hand drives up and presses against my balls and then down again, rubbing my head and slit.

Meanwhile, his mouth doesn’t stop. He alternates what he’s doing, constantly feeding me stimuli until I’m shaking and practically begging him to come. His mouth leaves me and I almost cry. But his finger slips inside. Deep.

A whimper escapes. Then his mouth is on my balls, sucking them inside and hollowing his cheeks. The three touches combined—finger in my ass, sucking my balls, jerking my dick—have me going wild.

When he curls his finger inside me, I lose my mind. White hot pleasure surges through me and I come. I grunt into the bed, thrusting my ass back for more of the good stuff. Lo doesn’t stop. He stimulates me until I’m shuddering and trying to get away. He lets me go and I collapse, panting.

For a long time, I remain just like that. There’s no movement. No sound. I just lay there, trying to catch my breath.

Eventually, I manage to shift. Lo is sitting on his haunches, slowly stroking himself as he watches me with a lazy smile. My cum is all over him. When I meet his eyes, he licks his lips. My cheeks blush hotly.

He’s still so fucking hard.

“Want me to⁠—?”

Lo nods. “Roll over. Let me use your mouth.”

I try to stifle the shudder of apprehension. I barely tasted his dick last night. He was so intent on sucking me or frotting together that it just didn’t happen.

Now it’s here. Is he going to be able to tell I’ve never sucked a dick before?

Rolling onto my back, I shift until I’m comfortable. Lo climbs over, his legs on either side of me as he moves up my body. I’m staring at the way my cum drips down his chest and can’t help myself when I reach up and rub it into his skin. Lo chuckles.

He doesn’t stop me, and we end up in a slightly weird angle as he taps his dick to my lips. Reflexively, my tongue pokes out to lick them and I taste the tip of his head as it comes back down.

“Open. I’ll be easy.”

Yep, he probably knows. Swallowing, I open my mouth and he wastes no time pressing inside me. I drop my hand, reaching around to his ass cheek, instead. Maybe also spreading my cum there as well.

Lo pushes in further, but he doesn’t hit the back of my throat before pulling out again. His hand curls at the back of my neck, lifting my head to angle my mouth. I look up his body, my eyes locking with his.

He’s so damn hot. His mouth is open as he stares down at me.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, but I won’t hurt you. Won’t touch your throat. Okay?”

I nod around him.

He does just as he says and fucks into my mouth. I stare at him. Watching the way his body moves. His stomach tenses, making his abdominals bulge. His biceps flex. His body rolls and rocks into me.

There’s that awkward phase as a teenager when everyone’s bodies are growing and changing. Teenage boys are obsessed with having the biggest dick without actually admitting to looking at other dicks because that would be gay. But I remember those days. I remember when everyone was comparing dick size.

I fell somewhere within the bulk of the pack. Not huge, but definitely not small. We called our size the sweet spot. We were certainly going to be felt, we could arrange some guts, but we weren’t dangerously big.

Then there were those on the cusp who, if they really focused on how to use their dick, they’d create magic. But they didn’t need to know how to use it for their partner to get pleasure from them. They could just be the dick to let the other person ride. It was big. Not huge, but big.

Beyond that were the monster dicks. There were two at my high school, and they enjoyed fucking with the same person then making them decide who has the bigger dick. By the time we graduated, I think they were still even.

Maybe it was just my generation obsessed with dick size in high school. I swear, we had measuring events every year to see whose had gotten bigger and who stayed the same.

Lo is a cusper. He’s not dangerously huge, but he’s definitely bigger than the masses. The way he moves, the way his body shifts and curls and bends, I think he knows exactly what he’s doing. He can create magic.

I’m just a hole right now, doing none of the work. Too busy staring up at this sexy man as he uses me. I’m barely paying attention to the fact that there’s a dick in my mouth for the first time and I should be exploring that shit.

Instead, I’m mesmerized by Laurent. My body hums with heat, with a charge, with lust.

He suddenly pulls back several inches and jerks his dick in front of my face before painting all over my face and neck and chest with his cum. I gasp, squinting so I can still take him in, but not get cum in my eyes.

When he’s done, he does as I did. He rubs that shit into my skin, a low groan hanging in the air.

After a minute, he comes down and licks up my neck, cleaning his mess, before bringing it to my mouth. We share his release in a filthy kiss. We alternate licking each other and kissing until our mouths are lazily moving together.

I think we fall asleep like that, though it’s hard to say. We wake up many times in the night and get each other off. Sometimes, I’m not sure either of us are fully awake when it happens. It’s hot. It’s an amazing night that I’m never going to forget for as long as I live.

CHAPTER 14

LO

I wake up groggy and rub my hands over my face. We ended up taking a second shower sometime around two or three to get the layers of sex and sweat off us. Then we started over. Feeling my skin, I think we could probably do with another shower.

Rolling over, I find Caulder lying at a slightly awkward angle. He’s on his back, but looks like he’d started to roll toward me and then fell asleep during the attempt. I grin and drag myself to him.

He’s just so gorgeous. I can’t stop touching him. My fingers slide over his thigh toward his half hard dick, but skip his shaft to reach for his balls. I’ve enjoyed emptying these over and over again. I love the way he presses his cum into my skin. Like he’s trying to moisturize me with his bodily fluids.

I’m not even mad. I do the same back to him.

There’s no way he should have anything left. The human body is pretty amazing that it just keeps producing more seed no matter how many times I empty him. I scooch into him, bringing his dick toward my face. Resting my head on my arm, I take his cockhead into my mouth and gently suck him while he sleeps.

One of the times I woke up in the night, it was to his mouth on me and an orgasm screaming through my body. If I hadn’t been so tired—and obviously just gotten off—I’d have fucked him well into the morning for that. I’ve never been into any form of somno but this man can do whatever the hell he wants to me. I can’t get enough. And honestly, waking up by orgasm? Yeah, that’s an epic way to wake up.

Caulder groans in his sleep. He shifts, and his body twitches, as his dick hardens in my mouth. I rub his balls with the palm of my hand, pressing my finger between his cheeks to get at his hole. He groans again.

I pull my mouth from his dick and lick my finger, making sure I’m decently coated in spit, before taking his cockhead between my lips again. This time when I press against his hole, I slip inside.

His lips part. His eyebrows knit. I press my finger in further and curl it, rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves.

Caulder’s eyes snap open as his body jerks. His hand grips my head, fingers tangling in my hair. His hips lurch to my face and I’m choking on the head of his dick while he chokes on his tongue.

Then he’s completely out of me, and my finger is pulled free of his body. Caulder grunts and we roll. I try to roll him again so I’m on top, but he has the upper hand in this position. I open my mouth for him, giving him the option to fuck my throat.

He shivers and hauls me up before coming down on me, our mouths coming together in a rough, wet, sloppy kiss. He pushes my legs apart and fuck if I don’t love him between my legs. But he doesn’t rub his dick on my hole. If he didn’t have my mouth completely occupied, I’d tell him to fuck me.

Instead, Caulder ruts his dick against mine. I grunt, pushing my hips up to meet him. Delicious, if not a bit rough, friction making my body shudder. He grips my hair and yanks my head back so he can suck on my collarbone. My body shudders.

I roll us and he huffs in annoyance as I straddle him. Leaning back, I spit on our dicks once. Rub it in. Then a second time. Satisfied that we’re not going to rub each other raw or some shit, I lay back across his body and seal my mouth over his.

He lets me stay there, a hand wrapped around our cocks while he fucks up against me for several minutes. But he takes my hands and brings my arms around my back before rolling us again so I’m trapped beneath him. He keeps my hands locked there with one of his and replaces the hand I had around our dicks with his own.

Caulder’s mouth stays over mine. His eyes wide, staring into mine, though I’m not sure if he’s awake enough to really see me. He thrusts against my dick, squeezing them tightly. His movements are erratic and delicious. He’s so close to coming. I want to grab him, grip him, dig my fingers into his ass cheeks, but he has me pinned. All I can do is thrust up with him, which I do.

He comes with a gasp and once again, I’m covered in his cum. I’m not upset about it. He rides against me until he’s done and then pauses, gasping. He kisses me sleepily and moves down my body, dragging his tongue through the mess. I think he’s going to bring it to my mouth but he doesn’t. He just licks his lips before staring unseeing at his mess.

His fingers dip into it, then his palm. He rubs up my chest, over my nipple. I shiver as he tweaks my nub. Hand still covered in cum, he wraps it around my neck and squeezes a little. I’m not sure what he’s seeing right now. Caulder watches the progression of his hand as he drags it back down my body to drag through his release again.

This time when he brings it up, he covers my face in it. I laugh and try to squirm away. The hand he has around my wrists tightens. Though, it’s not like I can actually get free right now. With my arms twisted like they are, his hand holding my wrists together and his body weight on top? I’m stuck here. Not that I’m complaining.

Caulder’s lips quirk a little. “You’re hot covered in my cum,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep and sex. “You’re hot anyway, but super hot in my cum.”

I grin. “You can cover me in it any time, Caulder.”

His hand leaves my face and heads back down. My hard, weeping dick is laying across my stomach. Slick with his load. With the rest of his release, he covers my cock. I shudder in appreciation, waiting for him to jerk me. Or suck me. Hell, he can even frot against me again, I don’t care.

But he doesn’t. He rubs my cock with his cum as if it’s lotion. His gaze is transfixed. Hypnotized by it. When he finds the last puddle in my navel, he wipes it across my slit. Rubs it in. As if he’s trying to fill my dick with his release.

Fucking Christ, why is that hot?

“Caulder,” I groan. “Get me off.”

He grunts, but continues to try and force his cum into my slit. All he’s doing is making me drip, though. Which is counterproductive to what he’s trying to do.

“You can fill me with your cum later. I need to get off.”

I’m surprised when his hand wraps around my dick and he starts jerking me for real. My body jolts. I’m already so close that it takes no time at all for my cum to join his. He smiles up at me, looking along the plane of my body with a pleased grin.

Fuck. This man.

Before I actually have the breath to do so, I jerk myself free of him and roll us. Caulder laughs. He’s more awake now, which is almost a pity. I love when we’re both drugged with sleep. Though being wide awake is hot too.

Hell, just being with him in any way is hot.

I spend the next several minutes rubbing my cum into his body just as he did mine. But I’m more methodical. I cover him like sunscreen until I run out. Then I drop between his legs, resting my head on his thigh and staring at his half hard cock.

Caulder brings his hands under his head and relaxes under me, his legs spread for me to get comfortable between them. Since he’s wide open for me, I lick my finger, making sure it’s nice and wet, before bringing it to his hole.

With a smirk, I watch his face as I press it in. He’s watching me too, a sensual little smile on his perfect lips. I breach his hole and press in deep. His smile climbs a bit.

“You like that, huh?” he asks. “Putting your finger inside me.”

“Fingers,” I correct. “You’re getting another in a second.”

He huffs.

Shifting, I bring his dick to my face and lick him lazily. “You hungry?”

“As fun as swallowing your load is, I’m not sure that’s filling enough,” he answers. “Besides, I think you’d rather paint me with it.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t get off to it as much as I do.”

Caulder laughs quietly. “Oh, I do. I’m a little disturbed by how much I like it.”

I’m not trying to get him off with my finger in his hole. Just fingering him. Stretching him. Getting this ass ready for my dick. It’s such a tight hole. So tight.

“It’s hot,” I agree. “A primitive and disgusting show of possession. We’re going to smell like each other for days.”

He chuckles.

I lick his cock for a minute before dropping my mouth to his hole and getting him wet so I can work another finger in. I watch his face as I do. Caulder stares back, his lower lip between his teeth. Bringing his cockhead to my mouth, I gently suck on it, flicking his slit with my tongue, to distract him from the new burn.

“You prefer to top?” I ask.

He grunts in acknowledgement.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Caulder shakes his head.

I grin. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty ass?”

He shivers, moaning quietly as his hole contracts around my fingers. I have them both inside now, but I’m not in a hurry. We have all morning. We don’t need to be at the arena until after lunch. Then I’m going to convince him to come back to the room with me after the games and celebrate, commiserate, or just fucking fuck because we want to, until we have to get on our planes for the trip home tomorrow.

For now, I’m going to enjoy stretching this sweet hole. Sweet, sweet hole.

“You didn’t answer me,” I say. “You hungry?”

“Yes, but I’m going to murder you in your sleep if you stop right now,” he mutters.

I glance at the clock. Only nine. We have an hour before breakfast ends. I can probably make it in that time. Otherwise, I’ll just order us a snack, and we’ll fill up on lunch before we head out.

“I have no intention of stopping. I’m going to own your ass, Caulder.”

He snorts but his hips begin to rock on me. I lazily lick at his cock. Then his balls.

I start to press in a third finger and Caulder tenses. Even when I suck his dick. I pull my fingers back out slowly.

“Lo—” he protests.

I kiss his thigh. “Hold on. Don’t move. Just getting some lube.”

He nods and I slide off the bed to find my bag. The tube is right where I left it, thankfully, and I return to between his legs. I push lube into him with two fingers before I make sure the third is well coated and pick up where I left off.

As much as I’d love to stare at his hole stretched for me, I raise my eyes to his. Caulder’s eyebrows are knit together. His lips parted. His chest heaving.

“Okay? Does it hurt?”

He nods and then shakes his head. I realize I’m asking him two different questions so I move up his body until I can reach my hand around the back of his neck. I twist him and bend him like a pretzel, still keeping his body open to me, but bringing his face to mine so I can kiss him.

“This okay?”

Caulder nods. “Yeah.”

“You don’t let anyone do this to you, do you?”

He shakes his head.

I nearly ask why, but I decide I don’t want that answer right now. Instead, I focus on stretching his body. Sex is going to have to wait until tonight, I think. I’m just going to make him feel good right now. Show him what something in his ass can feel like.

“Suck me,” he murmurs.

I lick his lips. “No. I want you to feel this. Not get distracted by your dick.”

Caulder growls at me. He fucking growls. I cover his mouth with mine so I can swallow any more sexy sounds he makes. His body rocks against my fingers and I smile into him. I drive my fingers deeper, shoving inside him until he grunts. But this man finds the pleasure in it as he bucks his hips against mine.

Breaking our mouths apart, I ask, “Feel good?”

His face is screwed up as he drives his ass down on me. He nods. “Make me come again, Lo.”

The tone in his voice is almost desperate. Pleading.

“God, please.”

Pressing my forehead to his, I listen to his breathing. The sounds he makes. How he whimpers and whines and gasps. I fuck my fingers into him, brushing his prostate with every pass. He’s going to like my dick. I can already tell.

“Please,” he whines. Almost sobs. “Fuck, Lo. I need⁠—”

I know what he needs. He needs a little help. After placing a quick kiss on his lips, I drop back down and swallow his dick into my mouth. His hands immediately tangle in my hair, his body arching as I suck him down, suck him hard. I look up just as his head curls back and he shoves his hips up and then down on my fingers.

I love that he’s unsure which he wants more. My fingers in his ass or his cock down my throat. Because it’s so fucking hot to see him this way, I give him both. Shoving his hips down, curling my fingers tight, I bury my nose in his pelvis and suck him as hard as I can.

He bursts with a strangled cry. His body spasms as he comes. As soon as he finishes, I straddle him, rubbing his still hard dick against my crack and jerk myself over him as his cum drips down my chin.

Caulder’s mouth hangs open as he stares at me. I reach behind me, holding his dick to my crack so I can rub his slick dick along my hole.

“Lo,” he gasps.

I’m not sure if he’s trying to push me away or pull me closer. My head falls back as I release my load. I rub myself nearly raw until I’m done and then collapse on top of him.

We lay there silent for several minutes until I feel his fingers reach between us. I expect him to rub my cum into one of us, but instead, he brings his fingers to his mouth. I groan and close my eyes. Jesus.

“We’re going to need to wash this off,” I say, breathless. “Then we can start again.”

Caulder’s arm comes around me and he holds me there. “Not right now. I’m boneless.”

“Not to be crude or anything, but I’ll stick a bone in you if you like.”

“That’s not even original, Lo. Besides, you just got off. I know you’re going to need a minute. By then, my bones will be back online.”

I sigh. “Fine. We can save fucking for tonight.”

Caulder doesn’t answer but his fingers dig into my shoulder. Maybe he’ll really scratch me up. I’d love to go home wearing his claw marks. 

CHAPTER 15

CAULDER

My ass twinges. I’m relieved Lo didn’t try for sex. Though he fingered me again as soon as we finished showering, and fuck if I didn’t come like a fucking faucet.

It made me brave enough to do the same to him. I wanted to see if it made him feel as good as it did me. In case anyone is wondering, yes it did. Lo enjoys being fingered.

As we’re washing in the shower for—what, the eighth time?—I ask, “Do you normally top or bottom? I can’t get a read on you.”

Lo laughs as he turns his face up into the water. “Honestly, I don’t have a preference. It kind of changes depending on who I’m hooking up with.” He pulls me against him and his fingers dip between my ass cheeks to brush my hole. I flush. “I really want to bury myself in your ass, but I’m just as happy to ride your dick if you prefer not to.”

I don’t answer. I’m not sure I have an answer right now.

He smirks, his usual, casual, sexy smirk. “You don’t need to decide now, Caulder. We’ll talk about it tonight. See where you’re at. I really don’t have a preference, so I’m good with either.”

Lo’s good with either. What if I’m not ready for either?

His mouth covers mine and for a minute, he kisses me under the water. “Where’d you go just now?” he asks.

“What?”

He chuckles. “You got very quiet and serious. What happened? I mean it, I don’t care about being top or bottom. I’m good either way.”

I nod and force a smile. “Kay.”

He’s not convinced. Sighing, I wrap my arms around his waist and align our dicks. Can you believe those fuckers are already chubbing again?

“It’s fine. We’ll talk about it later. I don’t have an answer for you right now. That’s all.”

Lo studies me. Staring into my eyes and then my entire face. “You know there’s no pressure at all, right?” he asks, the perceptive fucker. “You can say no to both, and we can continue to fuck around. I think we’ve proven that we’re quite good at finding ways to orgasm without penetration.”

My cheeks flush and I dip my head. “Yeah, I know.”

He kisses along my jaw until he reaches my ear and sucks on my lobe for a minute. “This weekend is about not having to hide and the freedom that brings us,” he says. His arms around me lose all sexual pretense as he hugs me. “It’s not about fucking, even if that’s what we’ve made it about. I’m stupidly relieved to come back here in the evenings and not have to pretend with you. I might miss the orgasms, but if that’s what you’d rather do—just sit in peace knowing you don’t have to pretend—we can do that, Caulder.”

I sigh, a smile falling into place. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“I didn’t mean to put pressure on you.”

“No, no. You didn’t. Don’t think that. Sex is a… touchy subject. But it’s fine.”

“Then we don’t⁠—”

“Stop. I’m not saying I don’t want to. I’m just saying I don’t have an answer for you right now. That’s all. You haven’t pressured me, and I hope I haven’t pressured you. This has been fun. Amazing. Everything about it.”

His arms come around me more firmly and for several long minutes, we remain wrapped around each other. Until I hear my phone ring and realize we’re going to miss food if we don’t hurry the fuck up.

“We should make some time for more of this,” Lo says as he takes a step back and I step out of the shower. “I’m totally a touched starved boy.”

I laugh, glancing at him over my shoulder. His playful smirk is back in place, but my heart twinges. “Yeah, I am too.”

“Byproduct of hiding.”

I nod. Yes, it is. The lack of touch in my life is going to feel very loud when we leave here. When this ends.

“There’s a lot of freedom in not telling people too,” Lo continues as he turns off the water and joins me. I hand him a towel. “In anonymous hookups. No expectations on you. No strings. No complicated feelings. No worrying about whether they’re interested in you or your money.”

“Tell me about it,” I mutter. Not because I share that experience, but because I agree either way. The embodiment of that last concern is puck bunnies and other jersey chasers. You know damn well they’re there because of your career. Your fame and fortune. How can it be any other reason when that is the very thing that’s made them look at you to begin with?

I toss the towel over the top frame of the shower and turn to leave. Lo wraps his arm around my stomach and pulls my back to his chest. His lips press against my neck. I lean back into him, letting him take some of my weight. “We can fuck around tonight, but let’s make some time for this too. I forgot how much I miss having someone hold me until I get a taste of it again.”

“That’s why you were staring at Ethan, Creed, and Jakub last night,” I say.

“Mmm,” he agrees. “Exactly. I was longing for a hug like that.”

My phone rings again and I sigh. “We’ll have to hug later or someone’s going to be busting up in here if I don’t answer.”

Lo laughs and lets me go. I catch the phone right before the call ends. “Yeah?”

“Dude, you going to eat before we have to leave or what? You’ve got like twenty minutes,” Creed says without a greeting.

I pull my phone away and look at the time. It’s an hour later than I thought. “Fuck. Order us something?”

“Yep. What do you want?”

“Any allergies, Lo?” I call.

“No.”

“Anything fast. Don’t care. On our way down.”

“Hurry your asses up,” he says and hangs up.

I toss my phone aside and then wince, hoping it didn’t just land in cum. I dress quickly and strip the bed while Lo dresses. It’s less than ten minutes later that we’re walking into the restaurant, just as a waitress is bringing over two sandwiches. I pull up the card app on my phone, but Creed waves me off.

“Already paid. You can buy lunch when we get back home. You fall back asleep?”

Lo glances at me as I sit in the chair beside Creed. Lo takes a chair on the opposite side, a few guys down.

“Watching movies,” I say, shrugging. “Honestly, I thought the clock said an hour earlier than it did. Thanks for the call.”

Creed nods and starts talking about the upcoming games. The first is between the Central and Metropolitan divisions, which means we’re just going to be hanging out in the locker room for a bit. Which is fine.

I’m not in a seat with Creed on the bus today. He’s sitting with Ethan and Jakub is with Azure as they continue a conversation they were having during lunch. That means Lo sits beside me, moving in a little closer than what’s necessary, but I don’t slide away.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out. I look at him and he smirks. “Good movie, no?”

I roll my eyes and kick him before turning my attention out the window. We don’t speak on the ride. His hand drops onto the seat next to mine. Our fingers brush and I glance at him, raising a brow. Lo sits forward and pulls his hoodie off, dropping it into his lap. He shoves it over so it’s covering both of our legs and then takes my hand under it.

It’s a struggle not to smile. His fingers twist with mine and I lean my head back and close my eyes. Honestly, I’m fucking wiped. Did we sleep at all last night?

Atlantic is in teal and Pacific is in maroon. We’re not truly split up within the locker room because it’s only so big. However, I do cross lines into Pacific territory to give Coach Adak a hug. He’s the head coach for the Pacific team.

“Good to see you, Caulder,” he says, hugging me tightly. “I’m so proud of your career. You’re amazing to watch and I get to tell everyone that I coached you in college.”

I laugh. “Me?! Look at what you’re doing with Carolina! You finished first in the Central Division last season! I still think you should have won the Cup.”

“And you’re going to make it to the playoffs this year, too,” Lamar adds with a grin. “The guys are going to be so jealous that you’re coaching us for the day.”

Adak bows his head. “You boys are good for the soul.”

“All right,” Brian Teethis says. “On your own side, Haines. You can catch up after we kick your ass.”

I roll my eyes. His comment leads to banter filling the locker room, which is only magnified when the two celebrity coaches join us. Atlantic has Marlon Dario, an actor that’s just won some shiny award from what I hear. Pacific has rockstar, Royalty Zayn. I absently wonder whether their daughter will be the one to interview them. I’ve always thought it was funny that the child of a huge rockstar and an A-list actor ended up being a sports anchor.

We lazily talk strategy in a huddle while the game between Central and Metropolitan takes place on the ice. But the locker room is mostly quiet as we watch the game on the television and chat during the intermission.

These games are held in a tournament style. Instead of best four out of seven full-length games, these are short, one-shots. Each game has two ten-minute periods, and a ten-minute intermission between them. If they end in a tie, they go right to shootout. The games are played three-on-three.

At the end of the first half between Central and Metro, they’re tied 1-1, Jiří having scored for Central and Menlo for Metro. While there is $1 million on the line, we’re definitely interested in winning. But there’s only so much strategy we can play in this short a time. There isn’t a lot of time to gel with the other players, or whatever.

The second half of Central vs. Metro ends in a tie with two more scores each—Thomas and Jiří for Central, and Larson and Niklas for Metro—so they go directly into a shootout.

Drick stops Menlo’s shot. Trustein stops Jiří. Drick stops Leroy’s attempt. Trustein stops Thomas’s shot. But fucking Max brings home the win, scoring on Drick and ending the game.

Then we’re on the ice.

It’s me, Stark, and Ethan on the ice first with Davies in the goal. I’m standing across from Laurent and the damn man smirks at me. I smile in return because I’m about to show him how to compartmentalize and focus on hockey alone.

Turning my attention to Ethan, he glances my way. Then he looks at Stark. There’s a single nod that passes between them. The puck’s dropped and I skate around Lo as Ethan pulls the puck to Stark. Stark sends it my way and Lo tries to get in my face, but I pass it back to Ethan.

As soon as Lo turns around, I’m skating behind the goal and come out on the other side as Ethan fakes a shot. He sends it back to me and while Lamar has his focus on Ethan, I swing the puck into the net.

I hear “GOAL” over the speaker and flash Lo a smile as I skate back to the center. We tag out, trading with Link, Ivanovich, and Darnell Clearwater. Noah Kain scores three minutes later. Stark trades out with Link and sinks the next goal. The first period ends in a tie after Noah sinks another goal three seconds before the buzzer.

We get back to the locker room to find the Metro team is there, while Pacific has been moved temporarily to the guest locker room for the intermission. I step into the room in time to hear Carolina’s Niklas Zawodny telling Max and Larson how to get the perfect tight, hard glutes.

“You must engage all time so plug does not shoot out,” Niklas says and I stop in my tracks.

Ethan plows into me, his arm swinging around my waist to hold me up.

“What—” Ethan starts.

“You do squats with a butt plug?” Max asks.

“Not any plug. Smaller one. You must engage glutes that way all times to ensure plug stay. And not just squats. Also all exercises. Be surprised at how many engage glutes.” Niklas taps his fist on his ass. “See? Hard. Want to feel?”

Max and Larson exchange looks.

“Man, yes,” Larson admits. “But my husband would lose his mind if I groped another man’s ass when he’s not present. Another time.”

“Yes. Another time.” Niklas looks at Max. “Want touch my ass?”

“This is wild,” Ethan mutters.

“Nah,” Max says. “In a previous life maybe, but I’m good with the ass I touch already. Thanks for the tips, though.”

“This way, Atlantic,” Coach Tavis Davenport from Philly calls. He pats Max on the shoulder on his way by. He’s our head coach today, though he’s Max’s coach every day. “Good first half. We need to get out there and clean it up. They’re going to be putting Dayne in goal, trading Gibbon out, so know your goalie.”

I snort. Azure is a damn beast. We’re dead.

We spend another few minutes talking, but again, this isn’t only a short intermission, but a short game. There’s no time to learn each other, so we kind of wing it when we go back out there.

The puck drops and we lose it right away. I nearly have it away from Lo, but he passes it to Mattias who gets it by Fournier, our goalie, and scores. Thankfully, Ethan evens it up within another minute. We sit out and let Link, Stark, and Ivanovich take the ice. Link and Lo both score within the next two minutes.

Back on the ice, it’s a game of keep-away. Not that I particularly want to go into a shootout. It looks like we’re going to be saved from that eventuality when Ethan sinks our fifth goal, leaving the score 5-4 with less than a minute on the clock.

But apparently last-minute goals are Noah’s thing today, and with eighteen seconds left in the game, he sinks another past Fournier, evening us out at 5-5.

“Hat Trick!” Ethan calls, throwing his hands into the air and running into Noah. He swings Noah around as Noah tries not to fall on his face. “Nice job, Kain!”

“Bro, you’re supposed to be jeering them. Not cheering them,” Davies mutters, rolling his eyes.

“My bad,” Ethan says. “Boo. Hiss. You suck.”

Noah laughs as he glides away.

Shootout. Ethan goes out first and Azure stops it. Then Noah, who thankfully doesn’t make a fourth fucking goal. Link misses. Mattias is blocked. Stark is stopped. Brian is frustrated when his shot is blocked and breaks his stick, which makes Lamar laugh as if he forgot which team he’s on.

It’s my turn and I try to remember the shots I managed against Azure yesterday. But I only have one shot so it’s not like I can try out a couple ideas before sticking to it. I take the puck and slide his way. Faking isn’t my best, but I curl my stick backwards, picking the puck up against my blade with gravity and try to swing it in.

Azure catches it, but he has to bend like a cat. When he rights himself, he looks at me and smiles. It’s unsettling.

“Damn,” I mutter.

He laughs. It’s low and haunting.

I climb into the box over the half wall as Lo’s blades hit the ice. He moves toward Fournier leisurely, dribbling the puck back and forth as he nears the crease. He feigns to the left and our goalie falls for it. When he tries to correct for the other side, Lo shoots it through his legs and the buzzer blares.

Lo just won the game.

I shouldn’t be grinning like I am, but I can’t stop myself. His eyes meet mine and hold for a second too long. But fuck if my chest doesn’t get warm.

CHAPTER 16

LO

It wasn’t that long ago when goals were just part of the game. An important part, obviously. Yes, I’m always happy when I score—who isn’t? But the way Caulder’s looking at me with that fucking smile… everything inside me just jumps.

He doesn’t look mad or irritated that they lost and will no longer be competing for the $1 million. His smile remains as he watches me. When I smile back, winking at him, Caulder rolls his eyes and looks away, but I don’t miss the way his cheeks blush. Just a little.

There’s another ten-minute intermission between this game and the next, so we head into the guest locker room with the Central team, sending Metro to the home locker room.

“Gather up,” Coach Adak calls. Our celebrity, coach Royalty, is leaning against the side with a huge grin. It’s pretty wild to be in their presence. I remember watching them on television when they were just getting big! “You’re playing a good game. Kain—congrats on the hat trick.”

Max wraps his arm around Noah’s neck, forcing Noah to bend over. He laughs. “Thanks, Coach. I wasn’t facing Azure, so I think I had the advantage.”

Eyes turn to Azure. He gives the room half a smile but there’s still something so… blank about his expression.

“Let’s do Azure in the first half, Lamar in the second. Focus on offense in the first half and let’s go hard. Get those goals. I’d like to see us not end up in a shootout,” Coach says.

“If we do, let’s keep Azure in the net,” Lamar says. “I’m decent at one-on-one, but I don’t have the unnerving stare like he does. It gives him that extra edge. I don’t even like being across from him when we play Vegas.”

The room chuckles. “He’s a softie,” Noah insists, throwing a big grin at Azure.

Azure returns the smile and it’s probably the only time I’ve seen something almost warm on his face. Is it just Noah? Or are they more friends than acquaintances?

“Remember we have the best of the best on the ice,” Brian says. “It’s going to take a lot more than relying on our goalies to win this game. Keep focused.”

He doesn’t look at me, but I have a very distinct feeling that his words are directed at me. Maybe not intentionally, but he’s not wrong. I need to keep focused. No thinking about Caulder for the next half an hour! I’ve spent my entire life not thinking about him. I can manage half an hour.

Okay, I’ve spent most of my life not thinking about him. Not going to lie, when I saw him on that billboard in his underwear? Yeah, I thought about him a little bit. How could I not? I thought he was gorgeous when I’d seen him in passing either at games or in pictures online. The billboard gave me a whole new appreciation.

But in person? Goddamn. Gorgeous just doesn’t cut it.

No! Fuck’s sake, Laurent. Hockey!

Thankfully, I don’t have much longer to continuously mentally force myself to focus on what I should be doing. Which isn’t thinking about a sexy Buffalo player. We head back to the ice a few minutes later, which makes it marginally easier to keep my concentration since he’s no longer in view, and I have a job to do.

We arrange on the ice and line up for the puck drop. Mattias flings it away and it lands against Noah’s stick. It doesn’t take long for me to realize I’m much better playing defense and allowing them to dance around each other. Noah and Mattias aren’t exactly the magic that the Buffalo trio is, but they connect quite easily.

The puck is stolen by Max and his fast ass has it down the other side before long. He doesn’t go for a shot, but gives the attempt to Menlo, who manages to get it by Azure. We trade out and I watch Azure block two more shots while we make two—Noah and Mattias. Shocking.

I swap out with Noah right after Menlo makes his second goal. The end of the first period sees us tied 3-3 with me making one and Larson following it up directly after. For the last minute the two teams move up and down the ice until the buzzer.

We get our asses handed to us in the second half. I don’t know if Metro has a switch that they flipped for ‘kick ass’ or what, but we barely gain control of the puck for the entire ten minutes. They make seventeen attempts on goal. Lamar’s amazing and stops thirteen, but that means they still land four, ending the game at 7-4.

My head is spinning as the buzzer sounds and the two teams pile onto the ice to wave to the fans. Atlantic and Central join us, as do sports anchors, the coaches, and some random people I don’t know.

I’m standing near Max when he’s talking to a local Florida network, so I can’t help but listen.

“You came off a hard year not long ago and have turned your game around. What do these wins mean for you, Max?” he asks, clearly referring to yesterday as well.

“My game never suffered regardless of what was happening in my life,” Max answers, not unkindly but also shutting that down. “It’s been an honor to be invited to the All-Star Games. While it is a lot of hard work with different challenges than we’re faced with everyday, it’s also a lot of fun catching up with friends on other teams and showing off our skills in ways that we normally don’t get to.”

“You mentioned different challenges during these games than you usually face. What does that mean?”

“When you’re with a team for a while, you build a routine and rapport with them. A bond. You learn each other’s quirks and play style. Here, we’re thrown in with ten different players, the majority of which you’ve never played with, but have played against. It’s challenging to turn your mindset around—these aren’t opponents right now, they’re teammates. I’ve spent years playing against Larson Faulkner and suddenly I need to figure out how to switch off my strategies that I’d use against Larson and figure out how to work with his strengths instead of trying to counter them.”

“It seems your team managed to do that very well,” he says.

Max nods, shrugging. “We came together in the end, yes.”

“Do you have any plans for the award you’ve won today?”

“Nah,” Max says, laughing. “I didn’t plan to win. Of course, it’s always my hope and why I work so hard, but there are some amazing athletes here, so I didn’t think my chances were all that great. I didn’t think about the prizes at all.”

“You’ve been with teammate Deryke Schneider for a couple years now. Is he at home watching?”

“Yes,” Max replies. He doesn’t elaborate though there’s an awkward pause as the anchor waits for him to.

“What do you think he’d say if he were here?”

“He’d say he’s proud of our team and that we played really well.”

Another pause.

“Do you have any celebration plans with Deryke for when you get home?”

“I’ll answer any relevant hockey questions you have, otherwise we’re done,” Max says.

I snort. Beside me, Noah laughs. I glance toward him, unsure when he moved beside me.

“I really hope he asks Max another irrelevant question,” Noah mutters.

We listen for a few more minutes and the anchor seems to have gotten the message loud and clear. The next half a dozen questions are directly related to the All-Star event—the competition, the other players, the event that he struggled with the most…

And then he asks, “There’s a lot of gay representation at the games this year. How does it make you feel to have so many of your people competing alongside you?”

Noah’s eyes get wide, and I hold my breath. Did he really just ask that? Max just stares at him, and a beat passes before Max turns around and skates away. The anchor remains still for a second, as if not quite comprehending what just happened. As he’s turning to the camera, Max is back and grabs the microphone from him.

“It is people like you that make the LGBTQIA+ community remember that a friendly tone does not mean you didn’t just hide a slur in your question. We are not ‘gay’ representation—we are LGBTQIA+ representation. Do not lump everyone in as gay—that’s erasure for everyone who identifies as something other than that and their visibility is just as important as a gay person’s is. My people? Do you mean athletes? You must mean athletes because referencing anything else that is a federally protected class could mean a lawsuit, and I’m not sure if you’re aware, but that’s punishable by law for you and the channel you’re here with so I’m confident you didn’t mean it as a slur. How do I feel to be surrounded by my fellow athletes? It’s just another day at the office.”

“Oh no,” Noah says as Max turns his attention from the startled anchor to the camera.

“I know we’re in Florida and the governor has a stick up his ass as an old, privileged, white man quoting a fucking text, but hear me—are you listening? You can’t erase us. You can’t force us back into the closet. You can’t silence us. You can’t shame us. You can’t change us. You can force us to fight for our rights, but eventually, you’ll die, and the next generation will remake what you’re breaking. You can’t get rid of us. We are here, we’re proud, and we’re not going away. It’s time you learn some fucking respect.”

Max shoves the microphone at the anchor’s chest and releases it, leaving the anchor fumbling to catch it. He slips on the ice and nearly falls on his face. Meanwhile, everyone around us just stares at him as Max skates to the chute, dismissing everyone who tries to approach.

Noah and I look at each other.

“He’s going to get in trouble for that,” Noah says, sighing.

“Why?” I ask. “The douche was offensive. Anyone who has ears can hear it.”

Noah sighs as he stares in the direction Max left. Coach Tavis Davenport, Max’s coach in Philly, is following now, shuffling on the ice in his dress shoes, which is rather impressive. It’s clear he’s done that once or twice. Not going after Max, but shuffling quickly on ice in shoes.

Although, he’s probably gone after Max a handful of times too. I’ve heard Tavis is a great coach and a good person. I have no complaints about Arizona’s coach, but he’s not Tavis. My gaze catches on Adak Nemaczekk following and I smile a little. He’s not Adak, either.

“It was,” Noah agrees. “But Max is supposed to walk away.”

“I’m glad he didn’t,” I retort, and Noah looks at me with an eyebrow raised. I shrug. “It needs to be said. That guy was making little digs at Max the entire time. He’s required to present respectfully, but that doesn’t mean he is.”

Noah nods. He looks in the direction Max left again. There are others leaving with him; Larson, Azure, Ethan. It doesn’t take me long to realize it’s the Gays Can Play group. Noah offers me a smile and follows.

An unspoken show of solidarity. My feet itch to follow.

“Laurent.”

I turn to see the same anchor approach me, the asshole who Max just told off. A moment of silence falls around me and I realize I have a choice as this guy smiles. He knows I overheard, that I witnessed the entire thing.

“This was a good game for you,” he starts, and turns the mic toward me.

There are eyes on me and yet, the arena fades. The lights, the noise, the bodies. I’m left staring at this man who insulted me. He doesn’t know he did, but he sure as fuck did.

“You can’t possibly think I’m going to speak to you,” I say and turn away. I’d tried to keep my face neutral, but I’m also confident I didn’t succeed. I could hear the disgust dripping in my tone.

More so now than three seconds ago, I feel the weight of the arena surrounding me. My breathing feels heavy, so I concentrate on my skating. I’m heading for the wrong chute; I know that. But it’s about solidarity right now. It’s about support. It’s the statement of standing beside our fellow athlete more than turning my back on the anchorman.

As soon as I step off the ice, the world tips a little and I’m reminded that skates aren’t made for concrete. My hand brushes the open boards and I continue to focus my attention on not falling.

It takes me a minute to reach the end of the chute where I find the others who’d left. Max is frowning as he listens to someone on the phone. Was the interview live? I bet it was. Damn.

Max looks up. His eyes meet mine and then move beyond me. I’m jostled a little and I shift, looking over my shoulder. I’m surprised to see more players filing in. Caulder is just walking through the door and my eyes land on his as if they’re magnetic. He gives me a smile as he comes toward me.

It’s tight when all four teams press together and I feel Caulder’s chest at my back, a mile of pads separating us, unfortunately.

Everyone is quiet while Max is on the phone. He sighs. Rolls his eyes. A glimpse of his trademark amused smile flashes across his face, then he lets his head fall back in annoyance.

“Yep,” he says and that’s apparently the end of the call. When he picks up his head, he looks around the room at all the faces. The forty-four players, guest coaches, celebrity coaches, referees, even a bunch of arena workers who’d been here for the two-day event and helped get everything set up between events. “Hi,” he says with a smirk. “What’re we doing?”

“Supporting you,” Lamar answers for all of us. “I have no idea what just happened, but I saw from across the ice that something went down.”

“I heard the whole thing,” Noah admits. “Please tell me you didn’t get in trouble again?”

“What happened?” Mattias asks. “I happy to support you and sounds like that man was asshole, but what he say?”

“I got this,” Larson calls out and holds up his phone. “My husband just sent me this clip.”

The question that the anchor gave Max that made him walk away echoes loudly into the space. Then the silence that follows it. And then Max’s angry reply. His words and voice send chills down my spine when I hear them again and I close my eyes, leaning into Caulder. Just a bit.

More silence follows. No one speaks. Then the anchor again but this time, it’s not to Max. “Laurent.”

The room shifts to look at me. I cringe, my shoulders tensing.

“This was a good game for you.”

Okay, I know I’d felt disgusted and I’m quite sure it was reflected in my voice. But fuck, my response was nothing short of clipped, aggressive, and appalled. I wince as my words ring through the locker room.

The clip ends and I wait.

Someone shoves me. Not hard, but enough that I’m forced to open my eyes. Mattias looks at me with a smile. “Said well, my friend.”

“That’s why we followed you,” Ethan says, slapping his stick against Max’s. “Laurent’s the only one who had the opportunity to tell him off, but rest assured, we’d all like to.”

Max smiles a little.

“You in trouble?” Noah asks again.

Max shrugs. “Dunno. Not with my agent or lawyer, though they’re on standby.”

“With Deryke?” Larson suggests, smirking.

Max laughs. “Maybe. This might fall into the ‘being an asshole to someone’ category, though it also wasn’t unprovoked, so I might be off the hook.”

Tavis rests his hand on Max’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you. You weren’t disrespectful in any way and still said what needed to be said. This might just be your biggest win this weekend, Max.”

The room breaks out in chatter, but I just lean my weight a little further against Caulder. I feel his mouth at my ear. Quiet so only I can hear him. “I’m really proud of you for doing that. I’m not sure I’d have had the courage to.”

He’s wrong. Had he been there and in my position, he absolutely would have. This has nothing to do with me being gay. Max said what needed to be said. There was nothing that could be added that he hadn’t already said better.

This was about supporting Max. Standing by Max.

There’s a difference between being a supporter of LGBTQIA+ and an ally to the community. A supporter will agree that you should have every right to love and marry and be who you want to. They’re quiet, but they will never stand in your way.

An ally is someone who will fight alongside you. They will help you with your battles because they know you need every voice to make a difference, not just those who are affected.

What I said was as an ally more than a closeted gay man. I was showing the asshole that I stood with Max and the entire LGBTQIA+ community, regardless of my identity within it. Whether Caulder thinks he’d have been brave enough to do the same or not, I know he would have. Because it wasn’t about us individually. It wasn’t about being pissed off as a gay man that he insulted, even if he didn’t know he did. It was about everyone those words affect. It was about doing what’s right, not just from the sidelines but on the front line.

The fact that every single hockey player followed, not knowing what was said, but seeing the way Max skated off, gives me confidence that, at least in the NHL, the world is moving in the right direction.

CHAPTER 17

CAULDER

We don’t speak when we get back to the room. No words at all pass between us. As soon as the door is locked, we’re on each other. Stripping and stumbling into the bathroom for a more thorough run though the shower again.

Without drying, we land on the bed. There’s a light on beside the bed and I assume housekeeping left it on. We’re usually in the dark or fucking around by the light of the television. I like that I can see him. I can admire him.

I’m not sure why, but there’s urgency in our touch tonight. Desperation to get somewhere. His fingers go right to my hole and I think he wants to fuck, but it feels so good when he fingers me, I let the thought slip away.

I love to touch him. His body is perfect and sexy and I love everything about it. The shape, his height, his smooth planes with light hair on his chest. His pert nipples.

Equally, I love his hands on me. Confident, purposeful, memorizing. The way he touches me everywhere. How he reads my body and knows just how to pleasure me. He’s an expert at everything, and I’m somehow the lucky one who gets to enjoy what he does to me.

He rubs the head of his dick across my hole, placing pressure against me. My ass clenches reflexively and I groan, trying not to sound like a needy slut. His fingers dip back inside me. Two fingers. Curling them and making me shudder against him. His fingers come out and his head is back, rubbing my hole. Pressing against me. Teasing.

My entire body aches for this man, but my mind feels panicky. I can’t do this. We can’t have sex.

Lo’s fingers press into me again. Three this time. Three has a very specific burn and stretch. But I can still feel his head there. Pressing against me. Rubbing along my crack. My hole where his body connects with mine. God, it feels good.

Our kissing is frantic. Sloppy. Hungry. I try to focus on that instead of what he’s doing down south. But when his dick is back and he’s pressing against my hole with purpose, I jerk my mouth away and push him a little to get his attention.

“Wait,” I say, breathless. “I can’t.”

“I have condoms,” Lo tells me, licking my jaw and nipping where he’d just run his tongue. But he’s already backed away. I don’t feel his dick or his fingers anymore.

I swallow and close my eyes. “I know. I just… I can’t.”

Lo stops kissing me and picks his head up. I can feel him looking. Studying my face. I can’t open my eyes, though. They feel like they’re sealed closed, and I want to sink through the bed.

“You want to top? I’m cool with that.”

Okay, now I open my eyes and look at him. He laughs at whatever expression he finds.

“All right. That’s not the problem. Sorry.”

I shake my head. “No, no. I just…” I take a deep breath and hold it, unsure how I’m going to get the words out. I feel like I’m burning up. “I haven’t… done this before.”

Lo stares at me and I almost read him trying to decode my words. Eventually, he asks, “What?”

Turning my face into his bicep, I close my eyes and force the words out. “I’ve never had sex before, and I don’t think I can do it now.”

Yep, I think I’m going to burn the first few layers of skin from my body with how hot I am. My stomach churns. Please don’t throw up! That’s not the tone I want this night to have.

“Caulder—”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, wanting to slink away. “I know I’ve kind of been leading you on and it’s really shitty of me to change my mind right now⁠—”

“Stop,” he says, and I flinch. Lo turns my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. “You can always say no, Caulder. If someone ever makes you feel like that’s not okay, kick them in the nuts and leave. And then tell me who they are so I can send a hitman their way. That’s not okay.”

My stomach flutters. “No. That’s not what I meant. I mean, yes. Thank you. But I just… I feel really guilty that I⁠—”

His finger along my lips makes me pause. There’s the brief thought that he’d just had that finger in my ass, but the way he’s staring at me distracts me, and I catch my breath.

“Don’t feel guilty,” Lo whispers. “Yes, I want to fuck you. Or you can fuck me, I’m truly not picky in this scenario. But that doesn’t mean we have to. We can get off together any way you’re comfortable. I’m not upset, and you don’t need to feel guilty.”

“I shouldn’t have⁠—”

He sighs and my words trail off. I’m surprised when he lays his body on top of mine and wraps his arms around me. My breath catches for a completely different reason this time.

“This is the hookup culture we live in,” he murmurs. “But you can say no for anything, Caulder. Don’t feel guilty. You’re allowed to change your mind. Even mid fuck, you’re allowed to change your mind. No means no, no matter what stage you’re at. A guilty yes is also a no. This is your body. No one has a right to make you feel like they have any claim on it.”

I close my eyes and wrap around him in return. God, I’m going to miss this. I’m going to miss everything, but I’m really going to miss hugs and cuddles.

But clearly I need to be a little clearer, though I appreciate what he’s assuring me of, all the same. It’s just not exactly relevant to what I’m struggling to get out.

“I don’t hook up,” I say quietly. “I, uh… I’ve never hooked up.”

“I meant any form of hooking up.”

Sighing, I say as casually as I possibly can while I’m burning off another layer of my epidermis, “I’ve never hooked up in any way. No one has ever touched me.” Until you.

I let the last two words hang in the air unsaid. Hopefully, that much is obvious. And I’m pretty confident I don’t need to say them out loud. Lo is silent as he lets that sink in. As he reads between the lines as I practically scream—I’M A COMPLETE VIRGIN!

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “So much makes more sense now.”

I flinch.

Once again, he lifts his head up to look at me and I wish he’d not. “Why did you agree to this?”

This time when I sigh, it’s in frustration. “This isn’t some huge romantic thing, like I’m waiting for the right man to sweep me off my feet and I’m saving myself for the love of my life,” I say defensively. “It all really comes down to hockey. I refuse to be a gay athlete. I just want to be a fucking athlete. My sexuality shouldn’t play into that, so I refuse to let it. So yeah, that means I don’t hook up.”

“You know there are ways to have anonymous hookups, right?”

“Yes, but I’m far too afraid of someone recognizing me. I’ve contemplated it over the years. A lot. Because I’m fucking horny, but I just… I can’t bring myself to do it. It’s not fear of being out. It’s a choice I’ve made not to be out, to keep that private. I’m allowed to have that privacy. But I’m in a position where I have to make a choice because, like it or not, my privacy isn’t private. So as painful as it is, I’ve chosen to be completely fucking closeted. And because I’m not willing to put myself in a position where it’s ever possible to be found out, it also means I’m a fucking virgin.”

Lo’s smile is soft and understanding.

“But this weekend, I didn’t have to be quite so hidden. You offered me something I didn’t want to pass up—the freedom to be me and to get off and to be held and remain private. That’s why I agreed. I wanted to do this. I still do. Honestly, I didn’t know until now when your dick was right there that I’m maybe not ready for sex, which is stupid because I’m twenty-eight and I’m going to be just like that movie!”

“Shh,” Lo murmurs, coming back down on me and pressing his lips along my jaw and neck. His arms wrap me up again, and I cling to him feeling a little more desperate now that all that shit is in the open. “Easy, take a breath, babe.”

I take several until I’m breathing more normally. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to vomit that all over you.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Also, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. For whatever reason. Regardless of what… What did Max call them? Old, privileged, white men? Regardless of what society says, there is no shame in sex—whether you’re not interested in it, whether you want to whore around, if you’re waiting for a life partner, or waiting for other reasons. There’s no shame in any of it—slutting it up or being completely dry.”

I snort. “It’s not that kind of choice,” I mutter.

He presses a grin to my neck. “I understand your reasons, and I’m not judging them at all. I’m actually impressed that you’ve fended off men for so long. You’re fucking gorgeous. I’ve been on cloud nine that you’re even the slightest bit attracted to me.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Lo laughs. “All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be ashamed of being a virgin, just as I’m not ashamed of not being a virgin. I’m really happy you chose me to mess around with.”

“You understood,” I say quietly. “You get why I don’t tell the world I’m gay. You share that secret. If there was ever a perfect storm to lead to me messing around, this is it. You presented me with something I was desperate for, but was never going to have and… you’re hot, you have a sexy accent, most importantly, I felt safe that you weren’t going to tell anyone, so… here we are.”

“And it’s unable to go on so long that people might ask questions,” Lo says, making me nod in agreement. He sighs. “Yeah, I get it.”

“I swear, it’s not because I don’t want to. Just, as you were pushing your dick to my hole, I felt panicky and that’s not the memory I want for this weekend,” I say.

“Is it because I was being a little reckless not wearing a condom?” he asks. “I wasn’t going to press inside. Just so you know. I always wear protection.”

“I don’t think that’s it but—” I shrug.

Lo’s mouth presses to my skin. His lips part and he sucks on me gently. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough that I feel it in my balls. “How do you feel about me fucking your ass crack?” he asks.

I laugh. “What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m going to press your bubble cheeks together and run my dick through them until I get off. If you’re good with that.”

A shudder runs through me in anticipation. My forgotten hard cock gives a pulse of need. I nod. “Yeah. Do that.”

His teeth skim my skin. “When I’m done, I’m going to suck you dry. Then we’re going to take a shower so we can get messy again.”

“All night,” I say. This is our last night together. While I don’t say the words out loud, maybe the panicky feeling regarding sex will fade and I’ll be able to enjoy his dick inside me.

But I don’t say those words out loud. I should have said something before, like no sex. Everything else is okay, but no sex. Just so it was clear. It was out in the open.

I heard what he said, and I agree. But it doesn’t change the way I feel. He’s mentioned fucking me a few times. He’s even asked something about his dick in me, though I was a little too caught up in the moment to truly have heard that question clearly. I didn’t disagree. In fact, I think I kind of grunted in agreement.

Yes, I have the right to say no. But only a shitty person leads someone through two nights of fooling around and alluding to having sex without ever having the intention of going through with it. Do they still have the right to say no? Absolutely. Without a doubt. It doesn’t mean they aren’t a jerk for actively leading their partner on for days.

Lo kisses me—along my jaw, on my mouth, down my neck. He stops at my chest, taking my nipple between his teeth and biting me hard enough that I jerk in his hold. He licks me and then sucks on the place he bit.

“Roll over,” he murmurs, lifting his body off mine.

I roll under him, my heart racing wildly. His body comes down and his cock is immediately pressed against my ass crack. His lips return to my skin, kissing along the back of my shoulder, the back of my neck, in my hair.

“You okay?” he asks.

His question makes me relax, allowing the tension in my shoulders to release. Lo truly is the perfect man. Everything about him.

“Yes.”

“You can tell me to⁠—”

“I know,” I interrupt, craning my neck to look at him over my shoulder. “I know. I’ll stop you if I need to. You don’t have to keep checking in.”

He smiles, pressing an awkward angled kiss on my lips.

His weight comes down more fully. His hips press against my ass, sinking his cock between my ass cheeks. I shiver.

Lo’s legs are on either side of mine, mine tightly together beneath him. My ass cheeks are clenched, causing him to use force and pressure to keep his dick between them. The first pass through makes me shiver. The second, his cockhead snags slightly on my hole and I groan.

His mouth doesn’t stop moving over my skin. His hands come up, running along my arms until he can twist our fingers together. Then he’s fucking along my crack. The head of his dick gets caught against my hole often, and it sends shuddering desire through my body. The length of his dick against my sensitive hole is erotic.

My cock leaks. His mouth never stops moving over my skin. Everything about this feels deeper than anything that came before it. It’s intimate. Personal.

He turns me over before he comes, spilling his release on my cock and stomach. Then he rubs it into my skin like moisturizer. It should be disgusting, but I nearly come just from this gross ritual we’ve been engaging in since the first time he came on me.

As we lay together catching our breaths once he sucks me dry, I decide that it’s a really good thing that this is ending tomorrow. The longer I spend with Laurent Duval, the more certain I am I’d fall for him if this carried on.

Neither of us can afford for that to happen.

CHAPTER 18

LO

I’m exhausted but I really don’t care. We were up all night. All. Night. I’m not even sorry. There are no regrets in that decision. We dozed for maybe an hour this morning, far too drained from constant fooling around to remain completely lucid.

We eventually got up and showered, struggled through one more orgasm each, and admitted that we’d reached our sexy limit for now. Though we say ‘for now,’ we know that the shower was the last one. Neither of our flights are early, for which I’m grateful because it means a prolonged morning together.

Now we’re packed up except the clothes we’re going to put on right before we need to check out. Going downstairs rumpled like we’d been making out would only bring questions, so we’re naked on the bed, wrapped around each other and soaking in the warmth while we can.

I never realized how very touch starved I am until these moments. Though truth be told, I’ve never wrapped around someone for so long as I have with Caulder. I’ve been lazily wondering about it this morning between our slow kisses and periodic quiet conversation.

Is it because Caulder is a lot like me in his situation? We share a very important common interest, so it affords us a certain level of safety with each other that we wouldn’t find elsewhere.

Maybe it’s this weekend specifically. Lots of alone time. Lots of sexy time. I’m very clearly touch starved, which I think I already half knew about myself, but I’ve never allowed myself a weekend like this. Staying with someone for too long prolongs their exposure to me, and the odds of them recognizing me increases.

That’s not an issue with Caulder. I’ve never gone into a situation where my hookup already knows who I am. Caulder’s right; there’s a lot of freedom in that.

Or is it just because it’s Caulder?

I’m very attuned to the fact that this man is just… heaven. I wouldn’t say I’m a spiritual man. As far as theology is concerned, I believe in a higher being. Whether there’s just a single god or multiple, I don’t truly know. But I believe there’s something out there. And I believe in heaven and hell.

It becomes clearer by the second that my version of heaven is this. This weekend. This kind of easy rapport. This comfort.

This man.

It’s good that we’re going our separate ways. I don’t think I can survive a Romeo & Juliet moment—star-crossed lovers forced to go their separate ways because they’re on rival teams.

Caulder burrows his face further into my neck and sighs. I hook my leg over his hip. A minute later, he rolls us so I’m on my back and he’s between my legs. If I could muster the strength to get hard again, I probably would. It’s sexy as fuck having him between my legs. Especially since I can feel his dick hanging along my taint and ass crack.

My cock twitches valiantly, but nope. We’re drained right now. I lost count of the number of orgasms we’ve shared at this point. All I can say is we made the most of this weekend.

“Thank you for this,” he murmurs.

I snort. “Are you thanking me for sex, Caulder Haines?”

Caulder laughs. “No. Well, ugh. Yeah, kind of, but no. I just mean… all of this. I’m not even sure how to put it into words.”

My hand trails up his spine and back down. He grins into my neck and pulls his arms out from under me. One tangles in my hair, the other grips my ass cheek. I laugh.

Caulder sighs. “I just mean this. It’s comfortable. Safe. It’s a level of trust I’ve never shared with someone.”

“I know, me too.” I hook my legs around his waist, locking my ankles together. His fingers dig into my ass cheek.

Part of me wants to suggest we stay another night. As long as I get on a plane tomorrow, I’ll be back in plenty of time for my game on the eighth.

But those words don’t leave my mouth. I’m dangerously close to catching feelings for this man. If I were honest with myself, I’d say that they’re already taking root. For now, I’m going to be in the practice of lying to myself instead, and try to convince my head that this isn’t feelings. It’s just indulgence.

“Me too,” I say again, turning my face into the side of his.

“You think we can text sometimes?” Caulder asks and I swear there’s nervousness in his voice.

I nip at his jaw. “Definitely. Chat sometimes too. Our time zones aren’t that far apart, though the distance kind of sucks.”

It’s probably for the best, though. Unrequited love would suck. Though it’s not lost on me that if I were ever going to have a relationship where we’re both happy to stay secret and hidden, this is exactly the circumstances it would work in. Probably the only situation where both parties involved are on the same page. The same damn word.

I shut that down quickly. I will not point this out. Nope. We can totally be friends.

“We must play each other at some point,” Caulder muses.

“Maybe. We just had a game right before the All-Star. I’m not sure we have another.”

He hums. I can hear the disappointment in it. Hopefully there’s at least one more. A reason for being in the same place. After being forced to share a room, it’s reasonable that we’ve become friends. Therefore, it’s completely understandable that we would grab dinner and hang out after a game. Right?

Covertly, of course.

“Maybe we can get together,” Caulder says.

I wiggle under him, rubbing my soft cock against his stomach and feeling his brush along my ass.

He laughs. “Keep trying, but I’m not getting hard again,” he admits.

“Yes,” I tell him. “Definitely, we’ll get together if we have a game.” I’m almost certain we don’t. We’ve had two already and fucking Arizona lost both.

When my phone alarm goes off, telling us there’s ten minutes to check out, I’m really fucking close to suggesting we extend this one more day. It would be a full day together. Lounging on the bed like this, fucking when our dicks have had a long enough break.

Caulder’s hands flex. One in my hair and one on my ass. His mouth covers mine and for a minute, we kiss and ignore the obnoxious sound that’s increasing in volume the longer I ignore it.

Eventually, he sighs and pulls his mouth from mine. I contemplate not releasing him and keeping my legs locked around his waist, but I’m more mature than that. Or something. So I let him go and watch as he sits back on his haunches.

“For the love of hockey, turn that off,” he groans, his face scrunching.

Laughing, I roll over and reach for my phone, hitting the button that turns off the alarm. Without conversation, we get off the bed and dress. It doesn’t take ten minutes. Not even when we run wet hands through our hair to make sure we don’t look like we’ve been making out.

Once more, in front of the door, we make out. I grin because for right this second, I don’t care if we leave this room with swollen lips and looking like we’ve been fucking. There’s a good chance I’ll regret that decision later, but I really need to prolong this moment as long as I can. I need to taste him. To memorize everything about him.

We pull apart and another plea to see him again is on the tip of my tongue. This time, it’s a suggestion for over the summer. Once hockey’s over. Maybe we can sneak away and disappear into the woods or something.

I don’t say it. Even as we stare into each other’s eyes, I imagine there’s something he wants to say, too. Part of me wishes he would. Anything at all. I have a feeling my answer will be yes, in favor of whatever he asks.

But he doesn’t. Caulder gives me a small, half smile.

The knock on the door makes us both jump. Caulder laughs as he turns and reaches for the handle. He pauses, looking back over his shoulder at me. “Text me later,” he murmurs. “Promise?”

My stomach flips. “Yes. Promise. Be safe.” I step forward, pressing against his back and kissing his lips again. It’s much shorter than I want, but it’s all we have time for.

“You too.”

I step away and Caulder opens the door. Creed is on the other side, Jakub and Ethan against the wall behind him.

“You are here. Ready?” Creed asks.

Caulder nods. “We were just double checking whether there was a sock under the bed, or a charger left plugged in. The number of chargers I’ve forgotten in hotel rooms is costing me a fortune.”

“I have a basket full of single socks,” I add. “That’s equally annoying.”

Creed huffs. “Yeah, it is.”

I shift to pass Caulder his hockey bag and with his carry on in hand, he steps into the hall. I follow once I have my bags too, taking one last glance into the room. Not checking for something missing this time, but just one more look at the place that holds a lot of good memories. Sexy memories, but good, sweet memories too.

Turning around, I meet Caulder’s eyes, and I know he’s thinking what I am. But he asks, “Any socks?”

Snorting, I shrug. “Probably, but I’m learning to deal with it.”

He smiles. We follow the Buffalo trio to the elevators, listening to them talk. I have always wondered what married couples find to talk about when they’re together every day. Those three, even more so. They’re together literally every single minute. I can’t imagine being with someone that long, that often.

Glancing at Caulder, I wonder if I can, though.

We’re awarded a little longer alone together when the car that comes to take us to the airport isn’t big enough for the five of us. It’s not even big enough for three with our huge gear bags, so Caulder and I load into that one. We sit closer than necessary, and I keep my bag over our laps so we can hold hands.

We don’t speak. There is no privacy in a rideshare. We don’t even steal looks. Both of us are staring out our respective windows, pretending like we took this ride because that’s how luck fell. What the world can’t see and won’t witness is how desperately we’re gripping each other’s hand.

For the first time in my entire life, I don’t even care about the traffic. I’m willing it to be there. More traffic, please! Neither of us are in danger of missing our flights and honestly, I’m cool about being sent back to a hotel for another night because we miss our flights. That seems like a perfectly logical reason.

If we’d worked that out ahead of time and planned properly.

We didn’t, so we arrive at the airport far before we’re ready. A single glance between us, just the touching of our gazes, and we turn away, releasing hands, and climbing out. Caulder waits for me on the sidewalk as I round behind the car.

Noah, Elixon, and Azure are checking in ahead of us, and I see Max off to the side. He’s on his phone and smiling a big Max smile. This is the way I always imagine him when someone mentions his name. Hopefully this means that there haven’t been any negative consequences from yesterday’s interview.

When we approach the line, Noah grins at us. Caulder waves and moves further down. We’re all heading west, so it seems we’re on the same airline if not the same flight. Caulder is going north, though. So is Max.

“Not Delta?” I ask.

Caulder shakes his head. “United. I’ll catch up.”

I nod and join the line. It doesn’t take me long to get to the desk and I check my bag. By the time I’m done, Caulder is waiting for me with Max, Noah, and Azure. My heart beats a little harder when I look into his eyes. He’s chewing his lip, a smile touching them as I join the group.

“Anyone else?” Max asks, looking around us.

“Nope,” Noah says.

Security is quick with the pre-check and within twenty minutes, we’re in the terminals. I’m in the opposite direction Caulder is, quite inconveniently, but he sits at one of the tables at a cafe.

“Waiting for Creed,” he explains.

I take a seat with him, the other four joining us.

“When’s your flight?” Noah asks.

“Not till three.”

“Same. You’re going to get home way before me, though. I have a layover in Denver,” Noah says.

We exchange flight times and layover details, then conversation goes to the games again. I listen to them absently. A foot touches mine under the table. When it doesn’t pull away, I glance up and Caulder smiles, though he’s not looking at me. We’re sitting beside each other, so I reach under the table and grip his thigh.

It’s not meant to be inappropriate, I just need to touch him. He presses further into me, maybe closing the gap so no one can see my hand on his leg. Maybe just getting closer. Either way, I soak it up.

Creed, Ethan, and Jakub join us half an hour later, and we hang around until our respective flights begin boarding. Thankfully, Noah starts hugging everyone, so it’s reason enough for me to wrap my arms around Caulder.

I want to say something while I have him there, but there are too many words and yet none. None are big enough. None can express anything I want to say, especially since I’m not sure what I want to say.

I’m surprised when he places a peck on my cheek and then gives me a cheeky grin when he backs away. I don’t have time to respond before I’m getting other bro-hugs and we’re walking in different directions.

My phone pings almost right away, and I pull it out to find my messaging app has a new notification. I grin when I see Caulder’s name.

Caulder Haines

Thank you for this weekend. Everything about it was perfect.

My gut twists because I want to yell that this isn’t over. I won’t let it be over. I’m not ready for it to be over!

But it is over. This weekend is done. I hate it.

Laurent Duval

Perfect.

I chew the inside of my lip, debating whether or not to send the words yelling in my head. In the end, I decide I want him to know how much I enjoyed it. How much I want to do it again. Again and again and again.

Laurent Duval

I hope we can do it again.

There’s no answer. He hasn’t read it. He’s no longer showing as online.

Since it was his flight that was called first, I imagine he’s probably boarding. This isn’t personal. He’s not ignoring me.

Jesus, am I really thinking that right now?! What have I become?

“You good, Lo?” Noah asks.

I look at him and nod. “Yep. Just tired.” Not even a lie. Now that Caulder isn’t here and I’m not running on lust, the sleepless nights are catching up.

Noah smirks. “Not used to sharing a bed, huh?”

“Don’t let him lie; Caulder snores,” I say, rolling my eyes.

He laughs.

Once again, we part ways as we head to different gates. There’s another brief exchange of goodbyes. I pull up my boarding pass on my phone and refuse to use it for anything else until I’m seated.

When I open the messenger app, my stomach jumps.

Caulder Haines

So do I. Like, next weekend. Talk to you soon, Lo.

He ends it with a little kiss emoji. I close the app, unable to keep my smile off my fucking face. 

CHAPTER 19

CAULDER

Leg day. Never miss a leg day. My muscles already burn, and I’ve only done a few reps. My body acts like it’s been months since I’ve hit the gym, though it’s only been a few days. Besides, it’s not like I was leisurely laying around. I don’t care what anyone says—a constant state of arousal leaves your muscles exhausted.

The memory makes me smile. My phone notifications are silenced; not because I don’t want to talk to Lo but because he’s a fucking distraction. I can’t get shit done when we’re texting.

I love how freaking flirty he is. Everything that comes out of his mouth, uh… via text, is a fucking innuendo. But he’s also just naturally sweet. I’m not sure he even realizes how sweet he is. There’s never a break between when my texts are read and his responses, so I know he’s not contemplating what the sweetest answer is before typing it out.

It’s been forty-eight hours and I’m confident we’ve been chatting for at least forty of them. I fell asleep texting him last night! That’s how long and often we chat.

He’s just… perfect. The perfect fucking man. I’m both relieved and annoyed that he lives so far away. If he were close, the temptation to see him would be immense, and I know would put both of our secrets in jeopardy.

There’s no denying the attraction between us. I can feel it burning under my skin. It makes me ache in a way I’m not used to at all.

But at night, when I’m alone in my bed, I don’t just miss the orgasms. They’re almost an afterthought. Almost. But I really miss his arms around me. I miss sleeping against his body, tangled in his arms and legs. I miss his body heat and the way his hot breath feathers against my skin. And the way he always pressed soft kisses to me, on every bit of skin that he could reach.

I miss him.

It’s unreal, perplexing, and a little alarming how much I miss him. I barely know this guy. I shouldn’t be missing him. It’s ridiculous.

I can’t help but feel maybe my connection with Lo is so strong because he truly gets me. He understands exactly why I don’t volunteer my sexuality in a way that even Creed wouldn’t. Creed made the choice to be out. I’ve heard him say many times how important it is to him to be an out athlete because it was important for him as a kid to see out athletes.

It’s not that I disagree. I know it is incredibly important. As a child, it was important to me, too. It was an assurance that if I were to come out, or be outed, my career wouldn’t be over. I’d have support.

But it also screamed loudly about the different treatment and attention I’d get too. I don’t want to be part of the Gays Can Play agenda. Again, yes it’s important, but I don’t want that kind of attention on me. I don’t want to be a gay athlete. I don’t want to be a straight athlete or a bi athlete or an asexual athlete. I want to be an athlete. Just an athlete. Without sexuality attached to it.

I don’t want to see a headline that reads BUFFALO SKIDMOSS DEFENSEMAN CAULDER HAINES ANNOUNCED ON MONDAY HE’S GAY.

Or CAULDER HAINES MADE HISTORY WHEN HE BECAME THE TWENTY-FIFTH NHL PLAYER—RETIRED OR ACTIVE—TO PUBLICLY COME OUT.

I don’t know about the number I’d be, I made that up. I don’t actually keep a tally on how many out hockey players there are. The point is, I don’t want to be a headline for my sexuality. Ever.

After an hour, I decide that my legs are like noodles enough, so I quit the exercises and stand. Looking around the gym, I watch my teammates do their thing while I swallow large mouthfuls of water. There aren’t many here. The trio, Brighten Shepey AKA Three, and Lucien Medcalf, affectionately known as Meddy. Meddy’s also brought his six-year-old, who’s sitting on the machine next to Meddy and doing reps with a five-pound weight.

I grin and head for the showers. Meddy has nine kids. We’re well acquainted with all of them since we’re a rather close team and hang out with Meddy often. His wife is our Mama Bear, often rescuing us from drunk puck bunnies who don’t respect personal space and aren’t good about taking no as an answer.

As I strip off my sweaty clothes and toss them into my bag, a vision of doing leg presses with my partner standing over me holding our boy as we talk flashes before my eyes. No, I don’t imagine his face as Lo’s. That’s just ridiculous. But the vision is real enough, there’s a strong longing in my chest for this imagining, that I pause to catch my breath.

Having a family has never been super important to me. A partner, yes. But kids? I don’t know. I’ve thought about it a lot over the years because Meddy is determined to create a hockey team from his offspring alone, so every time he announces a pregnancy, I think about it.

I watch how happy he is. I observe the kind of attentive parent he is. How happy his kids are. How good his life looks. I don’t believe that it’s just for show. Meddy isn’t like that. He’s authentic and what you see is what you get.

I’ve often asked myself whether I want a kid. Two? A dog? What kind of far-off future do I want?

The only answer I ever seem to have is a partner. I want a partner. Someone sweet and kind. Thoughtful. Someone I have chemistry with in every part of my life. A man to share passions with and have adventures with. I want an epic love story. Not a story that the world needs to hear, but a love story that consumes me as I live it.

Lo flashes before my eyes again and I shake it off.

By the time I’m clean and back in the locker room, Creed and Ethan are there stripping. A question our team had been asked a lot when their relationship first came out was how it felt to have a married throuple in our locker room, and whether there are ever any uncomfortable moments.

My favorite response was from Sacha Ivanov, one of our wingmen. “I shall ask about your love life if you want to know about my teammates’. Quid pro quo—which is illegal, by the way.”

He didn’t have all his facts right but, technically speaking, doing press is part of our work. Therefore, any questions of a sexual context within the workplace that makes one or more persons uncomfortable, is illegal in New York State. That’s considered harassment.

Over the next several months, PR modified Sacha’s response to be accurate and kept the same message. We’ve since been remarkably irrelevant questions-free from the press.

But what those questions always made me think about is how much I love the backdrop of their love on our team. We all feel it. It’s not like they’re not aggressive with it; there are very rarely any signs of affection between them and never any intimacy—including a kiss or even hand holding. Not at the arena.

That doesn’t mean we don’t feel their love. There’s a strong but quiet presence to it. It’s there. We feel it. We can see it when they look at each other. But we all feel it too in the way their support is extended to us. How their concern is inclusive of us. Their praise and their joy and their sorrow are always shared with us and for us.

It’s made this team stronger and closer in a way that I can’t really imagine living without. I love it. I don’t want to trade it for anything.

The one thing it always makes me feel is longing to have that kind of relationship one day.

“You coming over?” Creed asks as he walks by. “We’re cooking a shit ton of meat for some reason.”

“I ordered too much for the freezer,” Ethan admits. “So we’re cooking it all and pigging out on protein.”

“What you’re saying is you don’t get enough meat in your mouth,” Asael comments as he steps into the locker room. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

Ethan grins. “I’m going to let you keep guessing about the meat that goes into my mouth and still invite you over for meat.”

Creed rolls his eyes. “Stop. Get in the shower.” He shoves Ethan out of the locker room before giving Asael a glare.

Asael laughs, dropping his bag. His eyes meet mine.

“There are other ways to try meat,” I say.

He laughs loudly. “See? You get it!”

I shake my head. “I wasn’t talking about tacos. I feel like meat is a common ground. I love my meat.”

“Okay, okay. We’re done with this conversation,” I say, laughing. I really don’t want to talk about tacos—food or otherwise.

Asael grins. “What time is meat consumption?” he asks while I’m tying my shoes.

“Didn’t say. My guess is when you’re done you can go over.”

“Meat does take various times to cook depending on how juicy you like it,” he comments, nodding “Personally, I like when it leaks a little.”

“Ohmigod,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Really?” Three comments as he steps into the locker room. “Must you come on to everyone?”

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart. Your meat is still my favorite to make leak.”

I look up in time to see Asael wink at Three. Three just sighs heavily. We watch Asael head for the gym and then Three meets my eyes. “I swear, this is his way of warming up to come out,” Three says. “Like he’s feeling us out or something.”

“Stupid. Obviously, no one here is going to care. We have three openly gay men on the team, already. What does he think we’re going to say?” I get to my feet and pocket my phone. It gives a little buzzing vibration when I pick it up, telling me I have a notification. It can wait. I don’t want to be smiling like a loon at my phone right now.

Three shrugs. “Dunno. Gay innuendos have been his favorite topic lately. I can’t help but think there’s a reason behind it. Something driving him.”

“Obviously we all like meat to a certain extent,” I say, grinning. “Can’t tell me everyone in here isn’t fascinated with their own. But there’s a line that he’s just…”

“Jumping over.”

“I was going to say humping over. You know, keep it on theme.”

Three laughs. “I’ll catch you later, man.”

I wave him off as I head for the hall.

In my car, I plug in my phone. The notification that I have messages in the app has my fingers itching to look at it. Instead, I put my car in drive and head home.

Since leaving Florida, I’ve tried to convince myself I need to put some boundaries in place concerning Lo. I can’t fall for this man. It’s too dangerous to everything about my life right now and how I want to live it.

I’m not going to lie and say I’ve done well abiding by those boundaries. If I had, I wouldn’t be spending so long on the phone with him every night. Or thinking about him at least once every three minutes.

The drive home isn’t far. Eighteen minutes on a good day. It’s midday on a Tuesday with clear roads so getting home is relatively quick. However, once I pull in, I’m greeted by a massive… tree?... in front of my door. No, not a tree. I can see a huge vase at the base holding many stems, but the top is wrapped so it just looks like a tree. It’s a bouquet of flowers, I guess.

For a second, I sit in my car and stare. It’s not my birthday. I haven’t won anything. There are literally zero reasons for there to be flowers here.

Grabbing my bag of sweaty laundry, I make my way to the door. This bouquet is at my hip. I’m not even sure how I’m going to get it inside.

In fact, I can’t even get around it to open the door. I’m stuck trudging through the snow to the side door and letting myself in that way. I track snow through my house until I get to the front, then attempt to gently wrestle the flowers inside without destroying them. Thankfully, there isn’t water in the vase, so it’s not frozen.

I set it on my dining room table and carefully unwrap it, a task that takes me ages. Then I stand back and look. It’s… beautiful. Gorgeous. There’s something masculine about it with curly twigs and floofy dark fronds. The colors are dark, like winter, splashed with icy whites and blues.

I’ve never seen something so stunning.

It takes me through my damn birthday to find the card hiding inside the stems, but I manage to get my hands on the little business card. On the back is a typed message that reads:

I haven’t stopped thinking about you and wanted you to have a visual to depict how much room you take up in my mind. I miss you. -LD

My breath catches. I read the card over and over again. Fuck my life.

Without thinking, I pull my phone out and open the app to his name. My eyes are a little watery—must be from the pollen—so I don’t try to read the message there. I just hit the little phone button. A glance at the clock says it’s noon. He’s in Vancouver right now for a game tonight, but it’s three hours earlier. I’m not even sure if he’s off the plane.

“Hi,” Lo answers. “Just pulling into the hotel.”

“Hurry up and call me when you’re in your room,” I say and end the call. To keep myself from having a sappy meltdown, I shut all my doors, strip from my outdoor clothing, and busy myself by cleaning up the mess I made of snow through my first floor. I’m just throwing my sweaty laundry into the washing machine when my phone rings.

“You didn’t just send me a field of flowers!” I demand.

Lo laughs. “Is it that big?”

“Yes. I had to fight with it to get them through the door without ruining it. I thought there was a tree on my front porch, Lo.”

He chuckles. “The picture was beautiful. I didn’t look to see how big it was.”

I lean on the wall and rest my head there. “I miss you too,” I say.

Lo sighs. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” he asks. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m driving myself crazy.”

My eyes sting and I squeeze them shut. “It was one weekend,” I reason, hearing the slight depreciation in my voice.

A quiet huff of laughter meets my ears. “I know. I think we’ve probably shared the same internal arguments.”

“So… what?” I ask.

“I don’t think we need to answer that. This is our secret. No matter where we go from here, it’s still ours to keep. I think we can just see what happens.”

“Everything is against us, you know,” I argue. “I feel like we’re setting ourselves up for heartache.”

“I might have agreed with you a week ago. But you have a family very close to you that would disagree. Distance is temporary.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about. “Okay…”

Lo laughs. “Ethan and Jakub were married for seven years, never played on the same team, and are still very happily married, Caulder. If for nothing else, they’re a testament to what beautiful things can come of something that’s meant to be. When you meet the right person.”

My heart stops. I’m pretty sure. “You think⁠—”

“I don’t want to jump the gun, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Did you miss that? Maybe you are and maybe you’re not, but two days away from you has me contemplating my life choices and planning some ridiculous shit just to see you again. I don’t need an answer to a question I’m not really asking. Just think about it.”

I shake my head. “I don’t need to. Yes. Me too. All of that. But we need⁠—”

“Secrecy. I know. Fortunately for both of us, we’re in exactly the same boat.”

My weight sags against the wall, a smile curling on my face.

“Now, tell me about your day,” Lo says. “I need to hear your voice.”

I don’t make it to Creed’s because I talk to Lo until he has to leave for his game, which is nine o’clock my time. Too late. I texted him with a white lie, but promise myself that I won’t make a habit of that.

The best way to attract questions is to act weird. I don’t want questions. I want Lo, and for right now, I have him in some capacity. Even if it's temporary and we’ll never see each other, for this moment in time, he’s mine. 

CHAPTER 20

LO

My skate slips and I slam into the ice. My momentum keeps me sliding straight into the net, hard into Horny’s legs and causing him to fall on me. He’s laughing as we try to untangle, made all the more difficult because of the pads.

“If you wanted a hug, all you had to do was ask,” Horny teases. “I’m down for bro hugs.”

I snort. “Get off me, you big log.”

“I do have a big log. Thanks for noticing through my cup.” He gives a nudge with his hips, which is in the middle of my back as he tries to crawl over and off me.

Laughing, I shove at him. Lund Hornbrook, whom we call Horny, is a massive goalie. He and Felton Badcock are currently the biggest in the league. He’s massive. Exceptionally built to be a goaltender.

I always wonder if these big guys built for goalies chose their position and somehow grew into it. Like, was there a premonition as a kid that he’s going to grow into a polar bear and is built for the crease? Maybe the hockey gods saw he would basically take up the entire net and gifted him mass, making him the chosen one in hockey. It’s always baffled me.

Eventually we get back to our feet.

“I’m not sure that’s how the competition goes,” Etna comments as he glides to a stop at my side.

“Speed and accuracy,” I say, straightening myself out again. “But like, I’ve been trying to find a way to get the goalies involved.”

It occurred to me on my way home that a lot of the events of the skills competition can be used for skills training. Sprints with speed. The little disks to help with puck handling. Those stupid tiny nets on the other side of a two-inch divide to home in on some shot skills. Then there’s the passing challenge with the blocks.

All of these are definitely to improve accuracy, stick handling, and puck control. There are several that tie in agility too. But there wasn’t much for the goalies to take part in, which bothered me. Yes, they’re meant to be brick walls, but there are plenty of things they could compete in.

The obvious is stopping a puck. But their reflexes too. More than anything, the goalies have to adapt to each play, each new team. They can’t just one and done their skills.  

Hilt and Keno bring over a handful of bottled waters and we sink to the ice in a little four-person circle, the ends of our skates touching. While we drink, we pass the puck between us with bare hands.

The first thing I did when I got home was drop a message into our group chat, telling them that the first chance we got some down time on the ice, I wanted to duplicate some of these events for fun, but also to see if the exercises can help us.

I’m not surprised that all four agreed. Keno Edgewood is one of our newest defensemen, pulled up from Arizona’s farm team. He’s always eager to improve and prove himself.

Hilt Callahan is our veteran defenseman. He’s been playing professionally for eighteen years.

Etna Yreka was drafted the same year I was, though he bounced between the AHL and NHL for three seasons with Seattle before Arizona traded for him. Best decision in Etna’s career. He’s blossomed since coming to Arizona.

“You haven’t told us about the games,” Hilt says.

“You’ve been to plenty.” The puck passes between us rapidly. Even now, we’re working on reflexes as we slide the puck away to a random person as soon as it touches our hands. “You tell me.”

Hilt snorts. “They change every year. Yes, we watched you and you kicked some ass, but how was it being there?”

I shrug. “It was pretty awesome,” I admit, grinning. “Such a humbling experience to be with guys who are the best of the best.”

“You’re one of them,” Keno says, flashing me a toothy smile. “Best of the best.”

I shrug. Honestly, I’m not sure that’s true. Each team selects one player to go to the All-Star Games. Then the fans vote on twelve players. None of the spots are truly based on stats of who the top forty-four players in the league are. Maybe I’m one of the best on my team, but I don’t know that it puts me in the top of the league.

“It was great,” I reiterate. “I had a lot of fun, talked to a lot of amazing players, and played hard.” I shrug.

“We saw Latham’s interview and then you following,” Etna says. “The arrogant audacity of some people to think they can say whatever they want as long as they’re smiling and speaking with a friendly tone.” He shakes his head.

“Yep,” I agree. We haven’t seen any backlash on Max yet, and I really hope there isn’t any. There are social media circuses, because obviously. But not even the Florida governor’s office has made a statement. What could they say? As fucked as America is, there is still freedom of speech for good or bad. Besides, what he said is tame compared to what the politicians say about and to each other during election cycles.

“It gets played over and over,” Etna says. “I’m totally here for it. Some of the edits that people are posting with it are… emotional.”

I hum in acknowledgement. I don’t spend a lot of time online, so I haven’t seen a lot, but I’ve heard.

“You survived the Great Bed Fuckery of 2022,” Horny says, grinning. “Or did you somehow get out of that?”

I snort. “No, I didn’t. Yes, I survived.”

More than survived. I got the man of my dreams out of it. It’s a challenge to keep the smile from my lips. Because I can feel myself struggling, I hide my mouth with another sip of water.

“Who’d you end up sharing with?” Keno asks.

Fuck. Talking about Caulder at all is rough because I can’t keep the stupid grin off my face whenever I think about him.

Taking a steadying breath, I answer, “Caulder Haines. Buffalo.”

“Oh, damn,” Etna says. “That boy is fucking amazing. I was so sure he was going to win the skill sets.”

“He placed second at the end of the first six,” I say. “I’m glad Max won because I think he totally deserved it, but Caulder was just as good.”

“So was Noah. That man is a beast in a tiny body,” Horny adds. “Super quick and he scored a hat trick.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Hilt shakes his head. “That’s hard to do in a full-length game, never mind one only a third as long.”

“He’s a cool guy,” I say. “I hung out with him a few times. Good kid.”

“I think he’s older than you, man,” Keno retorts.

“Not by much and that’s not really how I meant kid, kid.”

Keno laughs. He’s our baby on the team at twenty. Not even old enough to drink.

“Caulder was cool, though?” Hilt asks. “He’s so quiet, I barely see him when we play them.”

There’s that bubbling smile again. Once again, I take a sip, nodding at his question. When I’ve swallowed, I add, “He’s a nice guy. Great to hang out with, which is fortunate since we were forced to share a room.”

“That’s really shitty,” Etna says. “I’m not sure I’d be comfortable sharing a bed with a stranger. I feel like that’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“I’m sure it is,” I agree. “It worked out well enough for those I’ve spoken to. Fortunately, we’re used to sharing space that could otherwise be a little awkward. But there were teenage girls there—a whole lot—for some high school competition. I can only imagine how that went down for them.”

“Big lawsuit,” Horny says.

“We talked about it a few times. I can’t even fathom how they managed to fuck up so thoroughly,” I comment. “Like, how does that happen?”

“I don’t know. I think it happens more often than people talk about,” Keno says. “Remember the headlines just last month? Winnipeg’s new owner went away for the holiday and came back married to a dude. All because of a booking issue where they ended up in the same cabin in a snowstorm.”

“You could have come back married to a dude,” Horny teases, grinning.

I roll my eyes, but there are butterflies dancing in my stomach. “There are worse things,” I muse.

“Yeah, like knocking someone up and then you’re stuck with them and your accident for the rest of your life,” Etna says.

We all pause and look at him.

“What? It’s a legitimate fear.”

I snort, shaking my head.

We play around for a while longer until we decide to call it quits for the day. I don’t shower, preferring my own, so I grab my bag and head for my car. As soon as I’m on the road, I dial Caulder. It’s later enough in the day that I’m sure he’s not doing hockey shit.

“Hey,” he greets and my heart stutters at his voice. I love his voice. I dream about his voice.

“Hey,” I answer. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Cleaning up flower petals.”

I snort. He sent me a picture of the bouquet and… yeah, that was a lot bigger than I imagined it would be. To be fair, I bought it based on aesthetics. It just looked like something Caulder would like, and it was expensive so I assumed it was big.

Just how big hadn’t crossed my mind. However, it definitely illustrated my point. Thoughts of him take up my entire day. All the brain waves. Including those concerning hockey.

“I’d say sorry, but I’m not sorry at all. You deserve pretty flowers.”

Caulder laughs. It’s quiet and shy and I love the sound of it.

“I’m not sorry either,” he admits, voice low. “I love them. I wish I could make them stop dying and spreading their carcasses all over my house.”

I laugh.

“What’re you doing? Finished practice?”

“Yeah,” I answer. “We were just messing around, really. I’m trying to find a way to turn the skill competitions into an exercise where Horny can do more than watch.”

“Horny,” he mutters, chuckling.

“I think that’s better than Cock Sucker,” I say, referring to Felton. I hear guys call him that often enough I’m confident it’s a nickname loosely tied into his last name.

“I’d agree, but I don’t think he cares. I’ve heard him say that he’s damn good at it and isn’t ashamed by the honorific of that title.”

I laugh. “Oh, god. You know what, Horny would say the same. He fell on me today and shoved his pelvis at me. Maybe it’s a goalie thing.”

“They’re weird,” Caulder agrees.

“They should be paid more. I was hit with a puck today and fuck, that hurts. I hope they get hazard pay.”

He chuckles. “I agree. Asael says he barely feels it anymore. He’s used to being one big bruise.”

I pull into my driveway and park the car. No doubt Caulder hears all the telltale sounds of me letting myself into my house.

“Just getting home?” he asks.

“Yep. Heading to the shower.”

“Want to call me back?”

I almost say yes but instead… “Or… want to join me?”

I can hear his smile. “More than I can express. But I’m not sure how that’s going to work.”

“Just stay on the phone with me. I’ll bring in the stand I have when I’m feeling lazy so we can talk while I touch myself.”

Caulder snorts.

“You can get in the shower too. It’ll be like we’re together.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works, Lo.”

“Humor me, babe.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

We’re quiet as we each get ready. I hear his shower turn on a second before I turn mine on. I bought this contraption years ago where I can attach a bendy thing to my bedframe and angle my phone screen at my face no matter what position I’m in. I use this and attach it to the top of my shower, angling my phone screen at me.

Not that I see him. It’s not a video.

“I’m in the shower,” Caulder announces, amused. “Would you like a play by play of me washing?”

I grin. “Absolutely. Tell me where you’re touching yourself.”

He huffs, but he does.

“Okay…” Silence. “I’m trying to think about how I normally wash. I’ve never paid attention to what order I wash myself in.”

“Close your eyes and just wash,” I suggest. “Don’t think about it. Just give me a narrative as you go.”

Caulder takes a breath. “Hands are soapy,” he says, voice low. I move a little closer to my phone so I can hear his voice clearly. “My chest. Then my ribs. Both hands. Down to my stomach and around my waist, reaching as much of my back as I can.” Pause. “Back up to my shoulders and my neck. My face. Just got soap in my eye.”

I snort and I hear the spray of water change.

“Through my hair. No, I don’t use body wash on my hair but I usually get the first layer of hockey sweat out with body wash. Down my body to my legs. More soap. Sudsy. My hands are so slick.”

Absently, my hand wraps around my cock as I imagine Caulder in front of me. Washing himself. He’s always beautiful. But he’s an erotic dream wet and covered in suds.

“Back up and around my dick. Make sure to wash my cock and balls thoroughly.”

“Don’t forget under your balls. Gets sweaty there,” I say, helpfully.

He laughs quietly. “I never forget under the balls.”

He’s quiet for a minute.

“You hard, Caulder?” I ask.

“So fucking hard,” he mutters.

“Touch yourself for me. Rub your dick.”

“I am,” he says. “Are you touching yours?”

“I have been since you started washing yourself. The image is just… hot.”

He grunts.

“Touch your ass,” I order. “It’s really important to clean your ass.”

Caulder snorts. A beat of silence. “It’s weird touching my own ass.”

“Then you’re not horny enough, babe.”

“Oh, I’m plenty horny, Lo. I’d love to see you right here on your knees in front of me.”

“Mmm,” I hum, squeezing the base of my dick. “You like that vision?”

“I like that memory,” he corrects.

“I can’t decide if I like you being the aggressor or the pillow princess more. Both are fucking glorious.”

Caulder laughs quietly. “I’m not even sure which I like more,” he admits.

“That’s okay. You don’t need to have a strict role, Caulder. I love that you switch out with me.”

He sighs. “I miss you.” His voice is quiet. Sad.

I close my eyes. “Me too. The distance isn’t forever. Promise.”

“I know. I’m not sure if I’m more terrified of seeing you again, or that the distance is going to get to be too much.”

“We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

“You make a lot of promises,” he says barely above a whisper.

“You’re worth every promise. I won’t stop working to keep them.”

Caulder sighs. “Get me off, Lo.”

“Gladly. Do exactly as I say.”

His orgasm is sweet, even over the phone, several hundred miles away. I can almost taste him on my tongue. Fuck. I need to see him again. 

CHAPTER 21

CAULDER

The door slams loudly behind me and I wince. I hate how hotel room doors do that. It’s unnecessary to announce when someone comes and goes. I’m pretty sure they could be silenced.

As soon as I step inside, I hear my tablet ringing. “Coming. Coming,” I call out while I try to kick out of my shoes on the way and nearly land on my face.

Pulling the tablet from my bed, I tap the accept button and Lo’s face fills the screen. I sigh, a smile spreading across my lips.

“Nice game, hot stuff. That was a sexy goal you made.”

I grin. “Thanks.”

Buffalo is back in Florida, playing the Manatees. We won 3-1. I had scored the first goal, which admittedly was very sexy as Ethan distracted their goalie with the puck only to pass it behind him, straight to my stick, where I slung it in the open side before the goalie had time to turn his head.

“Have a good night?” I ask, setting up my tablet so I can strip out of my clothes and still see his face.

“Meh. Hung out with some friends. I didn’t score any goals, but it wasn’t bad.”

“I’ve always been fascinated to hear about the guys on other teams,” I say. “When Jakub joined us, he told us about his time with Vancouver. They’ve got some cool guys, but they sound less cool when Jakub talks about them.”

“Isn’t Jönsson on that team now?”

I nod. “Yeah. He’s made a couple friends, but overall, he says the same. One of the first things he says to me whenever we get together after playing them is that he misses the family we have here.”

Lo smiles. “We’re more cliquey than family. I’d say there are maybe three or four groups within the team that are closer friends than they are with the rest of the team. It’s not high school cliquey or anything. Just… how we broke down, you know?”

“Yeah. I guess that’s the same with us to some degree. But we do a lot of things as a team too. Not just the smaller friendship groups.”

Once finished stripping down and brushing my teeth, I drop on my bed with the tablet and prop it with the pillows.

“Different room, huh?” Lo asks.

“Different hotel. I’m not sure they could convince me to stay at the same one.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve been wondering what’s come of that. Just out of curiosity.”

“You don’t get on social media much, huh?”

“Nah. It’s mostly just gossip and lies. Who needs that in their life?”

I laugh. “It’s been silent,” I say. “No, I don’t spend a lot of time online, but Ethan’s been watching. He and Creed were musing about it the other day.”

We’re quiet for a minute, just staring at each other. Lo’s eyes fall from where I’m assuming my face is in front of him. “Mmm,” he hums, leaning forward. “Look at you. Back up and let me see.”

Grinning, I make sure my tablet is steady before scooching back so he has more of my body in frame.

“Take your clothes off.”

I laugh and shove my underwear down. It’s not like I’m dressed in much, anyway.

“God, I love your dick,” he groans.

His tone is so whiny that I burst out laughing. “Thanks, Lo. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

He laughs. “Come on, just look at it. Even mostly soft, it’s a masterpiece. Move it up for me. I want to look at your balls.”

With my cheeks flushed and still laughing, I pull up my cock and move my balls over my thigh so he can look.

“Hello, pretty boys,” Lo coos, his face getting closer to the phone. “Don’t worry—I’ll lick you soon. Daddy’s been neglecting you, hasn’t he? Doesn’t play with you enough.”

I laugh. “Ohmigod stop. Do not call me daddy to my balls. That’s weird.”

“Don’t listen to Daddy, boys. You’re my babies and I’ll swallow you down soon.”

“Jesus, Lo,” I mutter, shivering. My cock, which was soft, is definitely chubbing.

“Look at that,” Lo says, his eyes still very obviously trained south. “Your dick likes me calling you Daddy.”

“You’re not calling me Daddy. That’s definitely not my kink.”

Now his eyes flicker up and I can see a challenge there. I sigh. “How do you know, my sweet virgin? You could definitely be Daddy.”

“Really? Do I really come across as Daddy material?”

There’s mischief in his eyes but he shrugs. “I don’t know. I think we need more time together to determine that.”

I shake my head.

“I appreciate that you’re still cupping your dick for me. Circle that bad boy so I can see your head sticking out of your fist.”

“Really?” I ask, cheeks flushing again. I glance around, as if someone’s going to see me.

“You forced to share a room again?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“No,” I hedge, “but… I’ve never…”

Lo’s smile softens and I can already hear his reassurance. I’ve never met someone so… good. He’s so genuinely good to me and comforts my fears before I’ve even had a chance to fully assess them. Lo just knows.

“If you’re uncomfortable touching yourself like this, that’s okay. We can just talk.”

“You planned something other than talking for the night?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nope. But now I want to see you jerk yourself and we can get off together, watching each other through the video. IF you’re comfortable. I push a lot of your boundaries, but I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m pressuring you.”

“You don’t push my boundaries,” I argue. “You challenge my comfort and confidence. You’ve never pushed a boundary I set. There’s a big difference.”

Lo grins. “I like that better. But I mean it. You can always tell me no.”

“I’m not telling you no. It’s one thing jerking off when we’re on the phone because you can’t see me. Now you’re watching and I’m aware you’re watching. I feel like I’m on display.”

“You are, babe. For me. Just me.”

I chew the inside of my lip as I stare at him. He looks a little scruffier than he did when we were in Florida almost three weeks ago. His hair is longer and wilder. There’s more growth on his face that’s definitely not shaped.

There’s something more rugged about his look right now. Less refined. He looks more… real. Natural. It’s sexier than he’d been, which is impressive, since I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.

“Hold on,” I say and get off my bed. I move to the door, double checking all the locks. I don’t know why I’m so concerned. I’m alone in my room and who cares if someone did come in while I was jerking off?

It’s just Lo watching. Just Lo. He’s definitely allowed to watch. He can look at me all he wants. The person you’re seeing is the only one with that kind of permission. You know, theoretically.

I turn off the light in the bathroom and turn the ones on around the bed, instead. Then I climb back on and readjust myself so he can see me in frame again.

“If I’m going to do this, you are too.”

“Caulder, you were going to see me get off without prompting. There’s no way I can watch you and not get off.”

I roll my eyes.

“Touch your dick, babe. Let me see you jerk yourself.”

I’m not entirely hard, but I think that’s more about nerves than arousal. I keep my eyes trained on my screen as Lo adjusts himself and the screen so I can see what he’s doing. My man is fucking hard. Like… achingly so. Seeing him so turned on definitely encourages my cock to get invested in this.

“There you go,” Lo praises.

I’m not paying attention to what I’m doing. Every time I think about it, I become more self-conscious. Instead, I stare at Lo. His hand smoothing over his dick, dropping to grip his balls, his thumb swiping over his cockhead. Sexy as fuck.

“Touch your balls, Caulder. Those boys tell me you neglect them.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

But as I shift so I can take my balls in my other hand, I think maybe he’s right. Just a little pressure and chills of need race down my spine. Lo groans.

My gaze becomes transfixed on his hand moving down between his legs. I’m not sure when he got the bottle of lube, but I stare as he slicks up his hole and pushes a finger inside. My mouth parts.

This wasn’t something we did together. He fingered me. Definitely did that. But he didn’t touch himself and he didn’t ask me to. Would I have?

I lick my lips, listening to his moan. My eyes ping pong between his hand pumping his dick and his fingers—now two—stuck up his ass.

“You too,” he says. “Let me see you stretch that hole for me.”

“I didn’t bring lube.”

“Spit.”

Nervously, I bring a hand to my mouth and suck on a finger. It’s awkward when I reach between my legs. When the angle is too difficult, I try to reach from behind me, instead. I rub my hole and yeah, it’s definitely reminiscent of when Lo touched me, but I’m all too aware that it’s me touching me.

“This is really fucking awkward,” I mutter.

Lo smiles. “You don’t have a toy, do you?”

“No. Actually, I have this rubber sleeve thing that I jerk with sometimes.”

He sighs. “My sweet, pure virgin,” he murmurs, almost in awe.

My cheeks burn. He’s never teased me. Never given me a hard time. Never pushed or pressured or… made me feel stupid. When he talks about my virginity, it’s almost in awe. With reverence. It makes my chest warm.

“Do you?” I ask.

Lo laughs. “More than you’d like to know. Want to see?”

I’m surprised when I find myself nodding. “Yes.”

Also, this gives me an excuse to stop touching my hole.

Lo pulls his fingers from his ass, and while I’m sad to not see that sexiness anymore, I’m fascinated as he shifts and rolls so he’s nearly half hanging off the bed. When he comes back, it’s with a fucking box. Not a small cardboard box, but a big plastic tote.

The click of the lid releasing sounds loud. He pulls the cover off and tips it my way. My eyes widen.

“Jesus,” I say.

Lo laughs. He pulls out one at a time. Shuffling around inside to show me different things. Different size and shaped cocks, vibrators, sleeves, things that I have no idea what they are.

Okay, obviously I’m beyond vanilla. I’m like a flavorless base.

“You use those?” I ask, breathless.

Lo’s grin is wicked. “Want to watch, Caulder? Want to see me fuck myself with one?”

I groan. My dick needs no encouragement now. It’s fucking hard and leaking. I nod, unsure of how much voice I can get out right now since I swear, there’s a hand around my throat.

He grabs a big blue one, the lube, and the tablet, and the world is swirling on the screen while he takes us somewhere. When he sets me down. I’m on the floor in the bathroom, propped against his vanity, facing his shower at an angle. He slaps the dildo down, suctioning it to the wide lip at the edge of the shower.

Lo disappears for a minute and returns with a few towels. He drops one on either side of the shower lip and then gets down on them. He reaches for the phone, grinning into the screen as he moves me in front of him. I can barely see his face, but this will be the perfect angle to see everything else face on.

With one hand, he cups his balls and pulls his junk up so I can see as he reaches behind him to finish prepping. I can’t really see his hole from this angle, but I can see his fingers disappear. My dick aches already. It’s already too hot.

As he slicks up the dildo and positions the head at his hole, I realize how very paranoid I’ve been over the years. I’ve never so much as glimpsed at porn too afraid that someone would hack my browser history and expose me. Even in incognito mode. Everything I’ve imagined has come from just that—my imagination.

Watching the head of his toy breach his hole has me breathless. Lo adjusts, leaning backward and bracing himself on the wall behind him, angling his body so I can see his hole. I can see clearly now as it stretches wider and wider around the toy as he slowly bounces on it. Easing it inside him.

“Can you see okay?” Lo asks. His voice is all sorts of sexy.

I nod. “Yeah. Perfect.”

He grunts. I listen to his stuttered breaths, punching out of his lungs when he hits a certain depth with the cock. That’s when his moans begin. When he bottoms out, he pauses, rolling his hips a little.

His face is cut off at this angle. I can see his mouth open, but the rest of it is lost. His groan is loud when he grabs his dick.

“Ready?” he asks.

Me? I’m not the one with a dick in my ass.

“Yes,” I say. “Show me how you fuck yourself.”

Lo huffs, a grin spreads across his handsome face. And then he’s riding. Bouncing. Sliding up to the top and driving himself down. He gets louder the faster he goes. The harder he thrusts downward. His hand matches his intensity.

I’ve never heard nor seen something so… hot. I can’t catch my breath as I watch him.

“Caulder?”

My dick jumps at hearing my name right now. He does that again and I’m going to come right now. “Yes?”

“God, I miss you,” he grunts.

I’m only barely being touched right now. Just my hand matching his rhythm. I can’t possibly feel as good as he does. But his words make me catch my breath.

“Me too.”

Lo picks his head up and I swear, through the distance and time difference and all the space between us, the tablet disappears and he’s right there. Our eyes meet. I’m trapped, held suspended in his eyes.

“Come with me,” he says.

I nod because I won’t deny him anything. Not sure I’m there, but I’ll come whenever the fuck he wants me to.

His eyes remain locked with mine as he rides. I’m aware of it in my entire body. The way he bounces. The way he shoves that thing in his ass. The pace in which his hand moves over his leaking cock, mine mirroring the movement.

The sounds coming out of his parted lips. “Someday”—he groans, eyes closing briefly as he rides—“this will be you. I’ll make us both feel so fucking good, Caulder.”

I whimper. There’s no other word to describe the pathetic sound that I release.

“Fuck. I’m going to come. Come with me, babe. Please.”

The most I can do is nod frantically. It’s erotic and mesmerizing. I stare at his face, transfixed by how it changes with his arousal. His orgasm has his cock squirting like a hose. I’m not sure how he manages it, maybe because he says my name when he comes, but I join him, covering myself in my own release.

When he’s finished, he falls sideways, the cock slipping from his ass, and lands on the tile. For a second, all I can see is his thighs, closer to the screen now. Then the world spins and I’m facing Lo. 

“Rub your cum into your chest,” he says. “Let me watch you and pretend it’s my cum.”

I shudder as I do. Swiping my fingers through my release and rubbing it into my pectoral. Around my nipple. Along my sternum.

Lo sighs.

Not for the first time, I envy Lo’s confidence. He didn’t question or hesitate when I told him I wanted to see him use a toy.

Opening my eyes, I find Lo watching me, toying with his cum and licking his lips.

“Don’t stay on the floor,” I say, winded as if it were me who’d ridden the fake dick. “The tile is cold. You’ll catch a cold.”

Lo smirks and I can once again see mischief in it. Even as he’s panting. “Yes, Daddy.”

I roll my eyes. 

CHAPTER 22

LO

“Okay. You have one brother, Luca. Right?” I ask, glancing at the phone. We’re on video call as we both move throughout the house doing our thing. This is one of my favorite things to do and we do it often.

As soon as we both get home from whatever hockey obligations or friendship commitments, we’re on a video call. We don’t just sit around, though. Usually, we go about our day, but with each other. It’s almost like we’re in the same room. Cleaning together. Cooking together. Folding laundry together.

It’s domestic, and I fucking love it.

“Yes,” Caulder confirms.

I thought that at some point, we’d run out of things to talk about. That hasn’t happened yet. There’s rarely any quiet time and when we are quiet, it’s comfortable. Like we can just sit in each other’s company and it’s not a big deal.

“Luca is married to Orson,” I continue.

“Uh huh,” Caulder agrees.

“And they have… do you call them boyfriends?”

“Nah. I just refer to them as husbands too. The world is a little slow in catching up to accepting that it’s completely possible to love more than one person, so it’s not a legal marriage but they all wear wedding bands.”

“Ah. Okay so their other husbands are Zvi—porn star extraordinaire.” Caulder laughs. “Wren and Vulcan, fire god.”

“I think it’s volcano god, but yes.”

“And they have two boys and a girl?” I know that’s wrong as soon as I say it. Caulder is shaking his head.

“Nope. Two girls and a boy.”

“Right, right. But you don’t see them often.”

Caulder sighs. “We try. Orson’s step brother lives in NYC and they bring the kids there for field trips and shit, but there’s not a whole lot out here. How many times can they see Niagara Falls?”

“I mean, you can take a day trip to Canada,” I suggest.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong. We get together as frequently as we can during the season. But yeah, I don’t get to see my nieces and nephew—or brother and in-laws—as much as I’d like.”

“So you’re not close,” I say.

Caulder shrugs. “Meh. Close-ish. But no, we’ve never been extremely close. He had Orson growing up and I had hockey. Hockey kept me busy almost all the time.”

“Mmm,” I agree. There’s a pause before I continue. “And your parents are still married.”

“Yep. Classic high school sweethearts. They even still act like they love each other.”

“But do they like each other?”

He laughs. “Yes! Luca and I give them a hard time, which I find funny since Luca also married his high school sweetheart. Honestly, they have a very classic romance. The kind of enduring love everyone wishes they can find. It doesn’t fade or grow tired. I’m pretty sure they love each other more all the time. I constantly hear my dad saying how he keeps falling in love with my mother all over again. It’s nauseating and yet… goals, you know?”

I do and I don’t. My family doesn’t look like that.

“And you’re an only child,” Caulder says. “Done.”

I snort, pulling my hands out of the sink and drying them on a dish rag. I lean against the counter to watch him spray down his counter and wipe it. It’s cute that we end up moving through the same room together. Sometimes I wonder if we do that consciously, or if that’s just where we gravitate naturally.

“No, okay. You grew up with your cousin, Adèle. You’re a week apart in age?” I nod. “She’s your cousin on your mom’s side—mom’s sister. Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“She has three baby daddies and seven babies, in alphabetical order: Béatrice, Cédric, Édouard, Nathan, Ophélie, Philippe, and Rosalie.”

“It’s hilarious that you memorized them alphabetically.”

He flashes me a grin. “I couldn’t think of an acronym for age order, so I’m working on that for round two.”

I laugh.

“Okay, this is where your life gets wild.” He stands straight and picks up the phone to look at me. I grin. “Your parents divorced when you were seven because your dad was having an affair with your mom’s sister. Not Adèle’s mother, but the third sister. So your mom decided to really fuck up some shit and married your dad’s mother—your grandmother. And they’ve been married for… twenty years?”

Chuckling, I nod. “Yep. Wild shit, right?”

“Man, that could be a soap opera,” Caulder muses, setting the phone down again. I watch his sexy ass walk to the fridge and open it. “Was it crazy growing up?”

“Not as much as you might think, no. There was definitely drama when it came out that my dad was having an affair with my aunt. There are still some unanswered questions about who biologically fathered a couple of my cousins from that aunt. Also, that aunt has definitely been shunned by the family. Outside of that, there was no drama. Except what my dad tried to pull when my mom and grandmother got together. Man, was he pissed.”

Caulder shakes his head, chucking. “This is like old English families. Keeping the bloodline close.”

I laugh. “They’re not related, babe.”

“Oh, I know, but saying ‘my mom married my grandmother’? Yeah, that’s an image.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair. My mom married my father’s mother. Better?”

Caulder laughs. “No. But also clearer. I feel like my life is kind of boring compared to yours.”

“Nah. You have a healthy, happy couple to look up to. You know what it looks like to be loved and treated well. I love my family, and I think I’m pretty well rounded as far as knowing what a healthy relationship looks like. But it’s from the outside. Not direct observation. Bouncing between Mom and Dad was… weird. Mom with Grandma, that was fucking confusing. Just as confusing as Dad with Auntie Lydia. I’m not saying they weren’t happy, but watching my family fracture into different, strange combinations and seeing the kind of havoc that created?” I shake my head.

“I can understand that. I definitely have a very rosy idea of what a relationship should look like.” He pauses in cutting up his berries. “Sometimes I wonder how Mom’s going to feel when she finds out that she has two gay sons,” he admits quietly.

“Was she upset about Luca coming out?”

Caulder shrugs, shaking his head. “No. Not that I recall. To be fair, I don’t think Luca ever came out. There was never a discussion or announcement or… anything. It’s like….” he trails off, staring into nothing as he thinks about it. “I don’t know. Like they’d always been together. One day he called Orson his boyfriend instead of his best friend. Then they were having a kid and getting married.” He shrugs.

“That’s how it should be,” I insist. “Sexuality shouldn’t be a conversation. There shouldn’t be ‘coming out’ or labeling of any kind.”

He nods, still staring at nothing. Then he blinks and turns back to his berries. “You’re right. I think they’re not going to care. I’m confident that they’re not.”

“Maybe you do the same thing. Just come home one day and introduce me to your parents as your boyfriend.”

Caulder’s knife pauses. A beat passes before he turns his face to look at me. There’s a small smile on his lips. “Is that what we are?”

I shrug. “Do you need me to ask? I’m not sure what the protocol is with this.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes. “Dunno.”

“Unless you want to be lovers? You can totally introduce me as your lover.”

His laughter is louder this time. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“Boyfriend it is. Unless you want to just clue everyone in on our wedding day.”

The knife snaps on the board. Caulder looks at me with wide, wary eyes. I burst into laughter. “Relax, babe. I’m playing with you. I’m not jumping that far ahead. I’m just imagining the shock on people’s faces.”

He doesn’t look away for a minute. “Hmm,” he answers, pressing his lips together.

Marriage is a sensitive subject…?

“Okay let’s talk about that,” I press.

“That’s not how I’m introducing you.”

“I like the boyfriend idea best too. But let’s talk about marriage.”

“Lo, I’m really loving what we’re doing, even if the distance is a little frustrating, but it’s been two weeks. We’re not having that discussion.”

I chuckle. “I’m not talking literally. I mean… is that something you see yourself doing in the future? Marriage? Kids?”

He sighs. It’s deep and heavy. His shoulders rise and fall with a big breath. “I don’t know,” he says after a minute. “Marriage, yeah. I think I’ve always imagined that. I’ve got some impossible standards as far as a relationship is concerned because settling for anything less than what I’ve seen growing up just feels… inadequate. I want that kind of love, you know?”

I nod.

“But kids? I don’t know. Meddy has nine kids, and I’ve been around them a lot. They’re great. I’ve played with them, held them, changed them, fed them. I love his kids. I’m just not sure I want to take care of someone every day for eighteen years. Maybe longer. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely taking care of myself. I don’t know if my decisions are right in the big picture sometimes—everything feels huge some days. But they only affect me, you know? Adding a kid to that… it’s not just me that something I decide will affect. It could potentially have a disastrous effect on a helpless child who’s solely dependent on me.”

“Curious that you’re talking as if you’re a single parent,” I point out.

Caulder stops mixing the contents of his bowl. Then he laughs. “Yep, I was. That’s weird.” He glances into the phone at me. “What about you?”

“Definitely marriage. And yeah, I think I want a kid or two.”

He chuckles. “No reason or justifications. Just yes. I wish I could be that way about literally anything.”

“I don’t wish that for you.” Caulder looks at me again, his eyebrows knit together. “I love how you think things through as thoroughly as you do. It’s not careful and overly cautious, but informed. You examine how you feel, so when you make a decision, it’s already been thoroughly vetted internally.”

“You definitely romanticized the chaos in my head,” he mutters.

I laugh. “I think you’re amazing just the way you are, Caulder Haines. Don’t change anything about yourself.”

There’s this look he gets when I know I’ve managed to say something that’s pulled on his emotions. His eyes get a little glassy and he blinks it away, swallowing it down again.

So I don’t make him feel uncomfortable, I change the subject. “Hey, let’s talk about sex for a minute.”

Caulder laughs. “Sure. Fine.”

“I bought you something. It’ll be there next week. There’s no pressure to use it—alone or with me, but I have a feeling you’re not going to buy yourself one, and I want you to have that option.”

Caulder’s eyes are huge as he stares at me. His cheeks flush. This man is so damn sexy when he’s flushed.

“You didn’t.”

“It’s not huge. It’s a good first-time trial size.”

His eyes shift around the room as if someone is going to come out of the walls and catch him with a dildo. That’s not even there yet. “Lo, someone could find it.”

“How often do you let people go through your nightstand?” I ask.

“I don’t. But⁠—”

“It’s your room, Caulder. I know you’re very good at drawing a line and not letting someone cross it. Your bedroom seems like one of those places.”

“Yes,” he agrees, then presses his lips together. “But what if⁠—”

“Listen to me,” I say and his gaze locks on mine through the screen. “No one will find it. No one will even look for it. This is your house, baby boy. Yours. You can shut doors and there won’t be any questions. And again, I want you to have the option. This isn’t a pressure tactic. I don’t care if you never let anything in your sexy little hole except my fingers, Caulder. Fuck, if you don’t even want that again, I’m cool with your choice. It’s your body. But I don’t want you to hide from exploring yourself out of fear. You’re safe.”

Caulder takes a deep breath. His chest expands as he holds it and then lets it out slowly. He nods. “I do want your fingers,” he says, cheeks pinking. “I… don’t know about bottoming yet. I don’t know how I feel about sex yet. I’m not even sure why I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” I promise. “If you want to talk about it, we can. If you don’t, that’s all right, too.”

A grateful smile settles on his pretty lips. “I don’t know what to say about it. I’m not sure why I’m so hesitant. I still feel a little panicky when I think about it now.”

I fucking love that he wants to talk about it. With me!

“You feel that way because there’s a possibility it can happen,” I say. “It might be why you feel that way now and haven’t before. A month ago, it was always hypothetical, in the distant future. Now, you have someone who really wants you. It can happen now. In just a couple more weeks, if you’re ready.”

We have one more game this year. On March 12. Are we counting down? Fuck yes. We have a plan and we’re going to make it happen. This man is spending the night in my bed. Sex or not, I need him in my bed.

Caulder shivers. “You’re right. There was no possibility before. And now there is. I’ve worked it up so much in my head that I just feel… overwhelmed.”

“I’m going to make this decision then. No penetrative sex. Not this time. We can revisit this summer.”

He gives me a demure look.

“Caulder, I want you to be sure. I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure. Not from me and sure as fuck not from yourself. If there’s even the slightest possibility you’re going to regret it, I’m taking it off the table.”

“Lo—”

“No. We’re not having sex. Sorry, I’m not having sex with you. Don’t try to change my mind.”

He laughs, closing his eyes. A beat passes and then he says, voice low, “Just so you know, I want to. Really bad. I think about it a lot. I’m just… afraid.”

“I know you don’t like all the promises I make, but I’m going to make you one more. When you’re ready, I’m going to make it so fucking good for you, Caulder. Bottom or top, doesn’t matter. I will make sure you have a night you will never forget for all the right reasons. I promise you this.”

There’s that look again. I touched something deep inside him. Something emotional.

“I really miss you,” he says. “I’d give anything for a hug.”

Sighing, I nod. “Me too, babe. Me too.”

CHAPTER 23

CAULDER

The days fucking drag when there’s something you’re anxious about. My head and my chest are a fucking mess leading up to seeing Lo again. My gut is all twisted, which is making me more nervous because I don’t want to have any awkward, embarrassing accidents once I’m alone with him again.

Secretly, I’m fucking relieved that Lo took sex away. It released a lot of stress I didn’t realize I was holding on to.

But I’m still going out of my mind, wondering if maybe the chemistry between us will have changed since we were together last. Maybe we won’t feel so intensely about each other. Maybe that instant attraction will have faded with the distance and the passing of time.

The fear of that sits heavy on my shoulders.

We talk every day. Every waking hour we’re not with other people. We get sexy over video a lot, but I have not used the toy he sent me.

Yesterday, Lo told me that when we do have sex, I’ll be topping him. I’m not sure where that came from, but I have to guess it’s because he sees more in my fear than I put voice to. As soon as he said as much, everything in me relaxed a little more.

It seems ridiculous. I’ve had his fingers up my ass, and I definitely liked that. When I watch him fuck a toy in his ass, there’s a part of me that aches to feel it, too. Last time was so fucking intense, I was so hot that I seriously contemplated getting out the toy and see what I could do with it. My body throbbed for it.

But fear stopped me.

I’m not even sure what about it frightens me. I’ve tried to figure it out, both on my own and talking to Lo. All I end up with is frustration because I’m not sure why I’m afraid to try it. I’ve even toyed with the idea of trying on my own. When I’m not on the phone with Lo.

Which rarely happens. We sleep with our electronics plugged in, so the video stays running all night. Then I can wake up and look at his sleeping face.

I’ve never longed for something as badly as I’m pining for this man. There’s comfort in knowing he feels the same way. So then why is seeing him in person again making me feel sick to my stomach?

“You sure you’re okay?” Three asks, knocking his shoulder into mine.

We’re on the bus heading to the hotel. There’s a few hours before we need to leave for the game, and I’m about ready to lose my fucking mind.

“Yep,” I say.

“You look gray, man,” Asael comments. “Meddy. Come over here and be Daddy Doctor.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m fine.”

Meddy is already in the seat in front of me. I sigh as he leans over and presses his lips to my forehead. Bianca has done this to me too. Apparently, it’s more accurate than putting the back of your hand to someone’s forehead, though not accurate like a thermometer.

“You feel fine,” he tells me. “Need some ginger ale?”

“I appreciate your concern,” I say, looking at the half a dozen faces around me, watching me. “But I’m fine. Feeling a little car sick.”

It’s a lie. I don’t get car sick.

“Need throw up bag?” Sacha asks, holding up one of the vomit bags from the plane.

“Did you take that with you?” Three asks.

Sacha nods, shrugging. “He look sick. I’m prepared.”

I let my head fall, hiding the smile. “You’re all a bunch of mother hens. Thank you. Really. It’s really cool that you’re all looking out for me. I’ll feel better once we get off this damn bus.”

“Weather is hot,” Sacha says. “No cool air on your skin to make feel better.”

“But it’s fresh air,” I counter.

They don’t stop fussing over me until we park. I have half the team watching me as I step off the bus. Including Coach.

“You good, Haines?” Coach asks. “Need the doctor?”

“No. I swear, I’m fine. I’m just going to lay down for a while.”

More skeptical looks face me. Obviously, that was the wrong thing to say. I sigh. “I’m fine,” I insist. “I get motion sick from time to time. That’s all.”

“You’ve been nauseous for a few days,” Ethan says. “You pregnant, bro?”

Snickers surround us and I grin at Ethan. “If you’re calling me fat, we’re going to throw down right here. I work hard on my figure.”

“Oh, no.” Ethan laughs, holding up his hands. “You’re sexy as fuck. I’m just putting all the symptoms together.”

Creed sighs, physically turning Ethan toward the hotel. “Honestly, Wildman. What’s wrong with you?”

“He’s got your body shape,” Ethan says. “Why wouldn’t I think he’s sexy?”

Creed shoves him. “Just stop.”

Laughter follows. Ethan glances at me over his shoulder, giving me a smirk. I smile in return. He’s not actually serious about any of it. He was just lightening the mood. This is why Ethan Wilder is one of the best people I know.

Everyone’s attention on me slips away and I gratefully grab my bag and head inside. It isn’t long before I’m given a key to my room. It feels wasteful, since I have no intention of sleeping here tonight. Just thinking about it has my stomach flipping.

I make it upstairs and drop onto my bed, pulling out my phone to open the messaging app. Have we graduated in our relationship to phone numbers? Probably, but using the app has become a habit.

Caulder Haines

I’m here. In my room. Not to alarm you, but I’m fucking nervous. Can’t decide if I want to see you right this second or wait until after the game.

Laurent Duval

I’m not going to tell you no if you say right now. I know a dark alley where we can climb into the back of my car with darkly tinted windows and hug the fuck out of each other until I need to sneak you back.

I groan, debating. Honestly, there’s no debate.

Caulder Haines

Yes. Pick me up. I’m heading down now.

With room key in hand, I slip out of my room into an empty hall and head for the stairs. All the while, there are words in my head chanting I can’t believe I’m doing this; I’m going to get caught. Over and over and over again. Someone will see me. It’s less suspicious to meet out front and say we became friends after having been forced to share a room and we’re catching up.

That’s the plan for this evening. I don’t think I can pull it off twice in one day, though.

I step out the side door and look around like a suspicious fuck. If anyone sees me, they’re going to know I’m sneaking for some reason. Hell, I’m sure there’s a camera pointing to this door and they’re already thinking I’m being sus.

Caulder Haines

Side door. My phone says I’m facing east.

His little circle drops, telling me he read the message, but he doesn’t respond. Which is good since he’s driving. Thankfully, it isn’t long before he pulls up and I try to casually walk to his car and get in.

Fuck, was he this hot last time we were together?

Lo grins. As soon as my door is closed, he’s circling away from the front of the hotel to exit the parking lot through a back entrance. He drives down side streets until we’re parked in an alley just as he said.

“I thought you were joking about the alley,” I say.

He snorts, putting us in park and making sure the doors are locked. “Never joke about a good alley. Get in the back, Caulder Haines.”

Laughing, I climb between the seats until I can fall into the back. Lo follows and then we’re shuffling around until he’s on my lap, straddling me. My cock is raging being this close, pressing uncomfortably against my pants where they’re stretched tight.

Lo’s hands are on the back of the seat, on either side of my head. His incredibly light eyes stare into mine. “It’s unreal how much I’ve missed you,” he says. I swallow the lump in my throat. He grips a fistful of my hair and yanks my head back.

I laugh, but then his mouth is on mine. It’s hungry, but there’s no urgency in his kiss. This isn’t leading to sex but clearly getting reacquainted. He tastes the same, but better than I remember. Familiar, but just… heavenly.

Gripping him tightly, I bring him close. Wrapping around each other is awkward sitting in the back of the car, so we end up laying on the seat, tangled and twisted, but wrapped tightly. Our mouths come together in broken kisses as we try to get closer.

Eventually, we fall still and just breathe each other in.

“We’re going to kick your ass today,” Lo says.

I snort. “Hardly. Arizona needs to find their talent, Lo.”

He huffs. “No, you’re right. Just thought we’d get the smack talk out of the way.”

“Save it for an audience. We both know we’re going to skidmoss all over you.”

Lo’s barking laugh is loud. I grin. “Well we’re going to ride your… sand. Or… get sand in your moss at any rate.”

I laugh, burying my face into his neck. “Use that one later. I want to see my team look at you like you have three heads.”

We continue to chuckle over the ridiculousness for a minute before silence surrounds us. Eventually, Lo says, “I’m going to be honest, I was a little afraid that things would be different this time.”

I sag a little. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you admit that. I did too. It’s been making me sick.”

His fingers dig into my back. “Me too. I was getting ready to beg to see you before the game, just so I could rest at ease knowing.”

“But finding out that it is different would have really thrown me off all night.”

“And given us a chance to win,” he teases. “Nope. This is still the best outcome. I want to live inside your body just as badly today as I did last month.”

I laugh. “That’s creepy.”

“You’re right. I want you to live inside me. I’ll keep you warm and safe and coming.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, hiding my laughter in his throat.

“Playing with an erection in my cup is going to suck,” Lo says, sighing.

“You need an orgasm, Lo?”

“Badly, but I’m not willing to let you go. I’m so desperate for your arms around me, this is what we’re going to do for the next ninety minutes. My dick can wait for tonight.”

I sigh.

We do just that. We remain wrapped around each other in such a tight hold that by the time his phone alarm fills the car through Bluetooth and we’re practically deaf, my muscles ache from keeping them so tense for so long. But I couldn’t get close enough, or feel him deeply enough.

He’s right. I want to live inside him where I don’t have to ever stop feeling his heartbeat.

Lo drops me off at the door he picked me up at. There’s an hour before I need to get on the bus for the arena, giving me time to get into my suit and grab something to eat.

I feel better now. Horny, but better. My chest feels warm, and my mind is at ease. We’re still just as hungry for each other as we’d been. I knew I was worried, but I hadn’t realized just how terrified I was that it would be different until I was in his arms again.

“You look better,” Ethan says as he sits in the chair beside me. “Good rest?”

The way he’s looking at me makes me think that he suspects there’s something else going on than I was just car sick.

“Yes, much better. Needed the rest.”

Yep, that smile says there’s something else that I’m missing.

Creed and Jakub join us a minute later, setting large glasses of water on the table so we can get hydrated before the game.

“Where were you?” Creed asks.

“When?”

“Like an hour ago?” he says. “I stopped by to check on you and you weren’t there.”

I meet Ethan’s eyes and now I understand the way he’s looking at me. My heart begins racing as panic creeps in.

“He was outside getting air,” Ethan answers for me, turning his attention to Creed. “Just asked him.”

“Ah. You check out the little park? Is it nice?”

Ethan gives me a single nod, subtle. Barely there. So I nod. “Yep. It’s nice.”

Lying is easy when I’m prepared for it. But the kinds of lies I usually give are definitely more thought out. I’m prepared for them. They’re well practiced with just enough detail to fit in with the person I’ve built myself into.

When I have to come up with something on the spot that’s a surprise—which rarely happens, thankfully—I’m like a deer in the headlights.

“Cool. Glad you’re feeling better. You look much better,” Creed says.

I nod and concentrate on my water.

I receive lots of comments that I’m looking better as we get on the bus and then as we’re changing in the locker room at the Arizona arena. Fuck’s sake. I had no idea I’d been looking that shitty.

We get on the ice, and I can’t stop myself from immediately seeking out Lo. He’s already grinning in my direction. Keeping my head down, I focus on warming up all the way until we’re ready for puck drop.

“Is it time for banter?” Lo asks as we settle into place. I look toward him as do several other players. “We’re going to get sand in your moss so it’s all gritty.”

“What the fuck is this?” Sacha asks.

“Trash talk,” Ethan says, laughing.

“Not very good trash talk,” Lo’s teammate comments. “Seriously, Lo.”

“It was better than we were going to ride their sand, no? Should we ride their moss?”

“We’re going to skidmoss all over you,” Ethan taunts, triumphantly.

“See? Oh! We’re going to ride all over your moss and leave sand skids,” Lo says, trying to sneer.

“This is shit,” Sacha groans. “Who teach you this?”

Both teams are chuckling. Even the ref is looking at Lo with amusement.

“What is a skidmoss?” one of Lo’s teammates asks.

“We’re about to show you,” Jakub says. “Pay attention, sand boys.”

The puck drops and it’s like magic watching the trio take immediate possession. I remain where I am, hovering close to our zone. The puck gets tossed my way and I sling it back to Jakub. He just happens to have a decent shot with no one but the goalie in his way.

He sinks it.

“That is a skidmoss,” Jakub says as he skates by. “Let me know if you need some lessons.”

Ethan cackles as he circles back to the center.

CHAPTER 24

LO

The nonsense banter continues throughout the game. Even during the few fights against the boards that break out, I can still hear their ridiculous ribbing.

It’s made more hilarious when the goalies start in. Buffalo’s goalie, Asael, basically bats away a shot and barks, “Don’t make me skid on your moss, Miss Sandy.”

The way both teams are chuckling under their breath, it’s a miracle that we manage to play a somewhat decent game. By the third period, we’re throwing barbs at each other with an unspoken competition to see who can say the most absurd one.

I think Buffalo’s Sacha Ivanov takes the cake with, “I will shove my skidmoss down your sandy rides if you don’t watch where place sticks.”

I laugh as I glide my way back to the bench!

By far, this is one of the most entertaining games I’ve ever played. In the end, we lose 1-3. Sure, we’re bummed that we lost, but this was by far the best way to lose, ever. I’m not sure the fans knew what was happening on the ice, except that we were laughing throughout the game.

On the way out, I hear the press asking, “What had you laughing so much during the game?”

Since it’s Ethan answering questions, he says, “Arizona is shit at their banter. And honestly, they still don’t know what a skidmoss is. How ridiculous.”

“It was just banter on the ice?”

Ethan continues to subtly make his inside jokes that only our teams will understand, leaving the press to pretend along with him. I’m not the only one chuckling as I leave the building. I can only imagine the new memes that will come from tonight’s game.

Once I’m outside in the cool, night air, all sense of calm amusement is gone. I have a boyfriend to pick up. My stomach flips in excitement. Soon. Soon I will have my man back in my arms. In my bed for the first time. All night.

I’m bummed that he has an early flight tomorrow. I get it since he has to fly back east for his game against Toronto the next day. But it would have been nice if the hockey gods could have arranged a two-day break for both of us. Give us at least twenty-four hours uninterrupted.

But we’ll take what we can get.

I hang around the parking lot sitting in my car like a creep, watching as Buffalo piles into their bus for the hotel. It’s nearly forty minutes later when the bus finally leaves and I’m left cursing the press. No doubt they’re the reason that we’re still here at half past ten! My hours with Caulder are limited. Have some fucking respect, people. I need all the minutes with my boyfriend I can get.

The parking lot is nearly empty by the time I follow. I circle around to arrive at the hotel ten minutes after the bus, but I don’t see Caulder. I park off to the side, in view of the front door until I see him step outside. Then I pull up right in front of him and he climbs in.

He’s not in his suit, but in gym clothes. “You changed,” I comment as I drive us toward the exit.

“Ethan was talking to me, and I think he’s already suspicious from earlier, so I didn’t want to just dip out. Apparently, I looked sick on the bus ride and Creed was concerned so he came to check on me, but I wasn’t in my room because I’d been with you. I got the impression Ethan must have seen me get into your car earlier.”

“Ah.”

“He covered for me. And hasn’t asked,” Caulder says, turning toward the window.

I grip his thigh and his hand covers mine, though he continues to look outside. “You okay? You want to go back?”

Now his eyes turn to mine. “No. I want to go home with you. Ethan won’t bring it up unless I do. That’s just the kind of guy he is.”

Relief makes my shoulders relax. I would have brought him back if he’d wanted to go, but I need him in the worst fucking way. I’m all about orgasms, but honestly, if all he wants to do is wrap around each other tonight, I’m here for that, too.

Caulder remains quiet on the drive to my house. I live in one of the rural neighborhoods surrounding Phoenix. It’s quiet. Lots of families with older kids, which I find I enjoy better than younger kids screaming outside all day. I’ll take the teenagers skateboarding up and down the street. They’re quiet.

I pull right into my garage and practically jump out of the car. Caulder has his door open by the time I make it to his side, so I offer him my hand. He gives me an amused look, but lets me pull him out. I yank him to his feet and against my chest, wrapping him in my arms.

He sighs, sinking into me. For a long time, we remain like that.

“How did I ever live without this for so long?” he murmurs.

I’m not sure he meant to say it out loud or if he’s looking for an answer. So I don’t say anything, just hold him tighter. We’re so still that the motion-activated lights flicker off and we’re plunged into darkness.

Caulder laughs.

I drop my hands and grip his thighs, hauling him off his feet. His arms tighten as I wrap his legs around my waist. The movement makes the lights turn back on, so I bump my hip into the car door to shut it and head for the house.

Caulder kisses along the side of my neck. “You’re so scruffy,” he says, rubbing his cheek along mine. I grin. “It’s hot. Why are you so hot, Lo?”

“I’m trying to fluff my pheromones,” I tell him. “Make sure you’re still into me at your most animalistic level.”

He snorts. “Is that it?”

I shrug as I carry him inside. “Maybe. I don’t know. I tend to get lazy this time of year when shaving feels like such a chore. If you prefer smooth, I can shave.”

“No way. Though I don’t care what your hair situation is. You’re sexy either way.”

A grin slides over my face. “You hungry?”

“Yes, but I’d rather go to bed.”

“Mmm,” I agree, but I turn for the kitchen and set him on the counter. “I have a couple sandwiches already made. Then we’ll get to bed. I need your belly full so you have all the energy. You’re not sleeping tonight.”

Heat flares between us, but he doesn’t comment. His eyes get darker as he watches me and fuck if I don’t feel that look in my blood. I hand him a sandwich, and we eat in silence. Quickly. Probably too quickly. Then I pull his big body back into my arms, then make my way to my bedroom and further into the bathroom.

Grudgingly, I set him on his feet. I hand him a toothbrush before flicking on the water in the shower. He grins as I join him at the double sinks, brushing my teeth alongside him. It feels comfortable. Domestic. This feeling comes over me, a sense of home. This is what I want every day.

As soon as we’re done, we toss our clothes off and step into the shower. Caulder glances at the lip where I’ve fucked myself with toys more than once for him. His face heats, and lust builds in his eyes. I press him against the wall and finally kiss this man with every ounce of need I’ve kept to myself for a fucking month.

For the first few minutes, we’re a mess of groping hands and sloppy wet kisses. There’s a chance that our kisses are only wet because we’re in the shower. I don’t care either way. Eventually, I grab the soap and lather this boy up until he’s covered in suds. Every inch of his body and I rub them in. I want no trace of anything on him so when I spread myself over his flesh, there’s no competing.

I turn him, pressing his chest to the wall and drop to my knees to clean thoroughly between his cheeks. Caulder groans as I rub his hole. My intention was to not let this get sexy until I got him in my bed, but fuck, I haven’t touched him in weeks.

After I’ve washed him with soap, pressing a finger into his hole to make sure he’s squeaky clean until he’s moaning, I spread his cheeks for the water to pass through. I watch, mesmerized, as the soap falls away, revealing a pretty peach puckered hole.

It leaves me breathless. I press my face between his ass cheeks and lick him. Caulder’s entire body jumps. A quiet, strangled sound leaves his mouth as his hand reaches behind him and he grips my hair. His need, his arousal makes me lick him thoroughly while he whines and jerks his ass back to my face, trying to stuff me further into his ass by the grip he has on my hair.

Fuck, I can’t wait to get in this ass.

Some day. Not today.

I lick him and suck him and shove my tongue into his tight hole until his legs are shaking. Then I stand and turn off the water. Once we’re out of the shower, I shove him to the bedroom. We trip over the clothing all over the floor as we continue touching. I have his dick in my hand, gripping him tightly. Not wanting to miss a single drop of his juice.

We fall onto the bed, our mouths coming together again in a kiss filled with teeth and tongue. Still sloppy. So needy.

I grip our cocks between us, both of our hips jerking together.

“I want to suck you,” I tell him.

Caulder groans, nodding.

“Want to suck me?” I ask.

He takes a breath and I wait for his answer, kissing along his jaw. Nipping at his neck.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m probably not going to be good at it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Caulder. Everyone gets better with time.”

I kiss him roughly again before I roll off him and lay on the bed so I’m opposite his direction. “Come on. Get on top.”

He looks at me with such fucking heat that I nearly melt. Caulder’s nervous when he climbs on top of me. Cautious when he doesn’t quite lower his pelvis to my face. I reach blindly for the lube I left out, bringing it close so I can get my fingers into his ass. I know how to make this man come with force and I fucking plan to.

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll gladly choke on you, babe. Bring your cock to me.”

Caulder mutters as he lowers himself a little.

“Hello, boys,” I coo, looking at his full, sexy balls. I crane my head up so I can pull one into my mouth. Caulder’s moan is almost a shout. Sucking on his balls makes him reflexively jerk his hips toward me, which I knew it would. As soon as he’s down, I let his testicles go and bring his raging dick to my mouth.

Caulder grunts, his hand wraps around my dick and holds on as if it’s a joystick. Once again, his hips jerk down and his cockhead lodges in my throat. Good Daddy, I think and grin around his dick. I fumble blindly with the lube until I end up with a splat on my forehead, which is fine. Now I’ll be able to easily get more.

I feel Caulder’s tongue flick against the head of my dick. I twitch and shiver. Yes! Honestly, I don’t give a fuck if he just holds on. I want him to come down my throat while I stretch this sexy ass wide open for me.

He shivers when I start to rub his hole again and groans around my cockhead when I press a finger inside. I’m not sure he even realizes he has my dick in his mouth.

I shimmy his body down a little more, giving myself better access to his ass and work a second finger inside. Now he’s moving for real. Fucking into my mouth. Bucking back against my fingers.

Caulder groans low and deep when I work a third finger in, his pelvis presses down hard to my face, shoving his generous dick deep into my throat. He’s sucking on me hard, working himself through the burn of my fingers in his ass, making my head spin.

He really likes three fingers, though. He’s fucking my mouth with a mad drive. I don’t think it’s conscious. Not the way the noises leave his throat, or the way he alternates sucking on me and burying his face in my crotch as he moans loudly.

The way this man gets lost in pleasure nearly undoes me. Thankfully, he comes before I do. He tries to warn me. Though he doesn’t manage to take my dick out of his mouth, so it’s just a bunch of nonsensical sounds. His hips jerk down hard, driving his cock in deep. The way his dick pulses in my throat is glorious. Even if I’m practically sobbing with the need to breathe.

I drive my fingers in deep, curling them and rubbing him intently. Driving his orgasm on, making him cry out and grind into my throat.

Somehow, I manage to hold onto consciousness until he’s done and roll his sexy ass over so I can gasp for breath. My muscles shake as I pull myself up and straddle his hips, rubbing my balls on his wet dick while I furiously rub myself.

I spray all over him as Caulder looks at me with sexy, dilated eyes. Immediately, his hands come up to his chest after my first shot, rubbing it into his skin. Moisturizing himself like it’s lotion. The sight sends another jolt through me, and I unload more.

Once I squeeze every single drop out of me, my hands join his as we rub my cum into his skin until he’s just a sticky mess. Then I collapse on top of him, our mouths clumsily coming together in a kiss that’s barely more than mouths knocking together.

He rolls us, blanketing my body with his.

“I didn’t think it could get better,” he stammers between pants. “Fuck, Lo. The way you make me feel.” He ends on a groan, his hand sliding down my back until he reaches my ass.

I’ve come to realize he’s definitely an ass man. He loves to grip my ass cheeks tightly. Which he does now. Digging his fingers in and pulling my body harshly to his. He groans, low. Raspy.

I suck on his neck, trying to be mindful not to suck too hard. He still tastes like soap, but there’s also the heavy tang of sweat and cum. Tasting myself on him is intoxicating. I’ve washed him in my release. There’s nothing sexier than that.

“All night,” I murmur. “You’re going to have to sleep on the plane.”

“Mmm,” he answers. “As long as you don’t stop touching me until the last possible minute.”

I don’t plan on it. He’ll be lucky if I don’t climb in his gear bag so he can take me home with him. 

CHAPTER 25

CAULDER

“Haines,” Coach Melvin calls.

I look up from where I’m pulling my pants up. “Yes, Coach?”

“My office when you’re dressed, please.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“What did you do now?” Creed teases.

I shrug. “Nothing.”

“Probably just a charity thing or something,” Ethan says.

Because I haven’t done anything that would get me in trouble, I don’t worry about it as I dress. There’s a message on my phone from Lo, but I’ll save that until I get in my car. I can’t remember the last time I got out of a practice or a game when I didn’t have a message from Lo. I think I’d be irrationally devastated if the day comes and there isn’t one.

“Coming over after?” Creed asks as I shoulder my bag.

I nod. “Yep. Just going to start the laundry then I’ll be over.”

“Cool. I’ll try not to let Ethan eat all the sausage.”

“I like sausage more than he does,” Ethan argues, nodding at me.

Creed rolls his eyes. I chuckle on my way out of the locker room, musing to myself that he’s definitely wrong. I love sausage.

Coach’s office door is ajar. I drop my bag outside and knock.

“Come in, Caulder,” he calls.

I push the door open, and my stomach gives an uncomfortable twist. Our assistant coach is here too, which isn’t a big deal, but the PR manager, Robert, is also here and that worries me. It shouldn’t because I really haven’t done anything that would require a PR conference.

“Shut the door and have a seat,” Coach says.

I’m too nervous to ask what’s going on so I just do what he says. Once I’m sitting across from him, Coach asks, “Do you have a Viraly account?”

It’s a strange question. My face scrunches a little. “Yeah. I don’t get on social media much though, so it’s not active.”

“When’s the last time you were on Viraly?” Robert asks.

Viraly is one of my least favorite platforms. Not only because you can sit here and watch fifteen second videos for what feels like ten minutes, but you’ve really lost three hours, but because there’s so much toxic shit on there.

“I don’t know—a year? Maybe longer. Why?”

“Do you get on ShareIt?”

“Probably six months ago. Why? Has someone hacked my accounts?” I’m not sure how they’d know that unless someone has hacked my accounts and is posting a whole bunch of shit. I wince at the thought. I should probably just shut them down.

Our assistant coach, Elvyra, comes out from around Coach’s desk, where she’d been leaning against the wall and hands me her phone. It’s on a paused video with a sonogram on it. I look up at her with confusion. Was I supposed to know someone’s pregnant?

“Watch it,” she instructs. “Scroll down for more.”

My confusion keeps my questions in, and I mutely push play. The sonogram scrolls out and a woman appears on the screen. She’s young, brunette, with bright red lipstick and long, cakey lashes.

“I’m pregnant,” she says and turns to the side to run her hand over the tiniest of bumps. “And this man—”a picture of me from some event pops up onto the screen—“is the father, but it’s been impossible to get a hold of him.” She turns to the screen. “Caulder Haines, if you see this, you have a baby on the way! Message me, daddy.”

My stomach drops. The video plays again.

I flick the screen up so the previous video she posted appears. It plays immediately.

“Story time. November 10th was the hockey game between the Philadelphia Hatters and the Buffalo Skidmoss. When Buffalo won, some of their team headed to this epic Philly club—Lyra on Ninth—and celebrated. How do I know this? Because I hooked up with Caulder Haines in the back! Now I’m pregnant—which happens when you don’t wear a condom, fellas—and it’s impossible to get ahold of him. Help me out, Viraly! Help me get in touch with Caulder Haines.”

The next one.

“I want my baby to have his daddy! Don’t you want to know your baby, Caulder Haines?”

On and on it goes for the past month or more. I feel sick. My body breaks out in chills as my stomach violently threatens to display everything I’ve eaten today on the floor in front of me. I can’t take a breath. My hands shake.

Finally, I look up and meet Coach’s eyes. “It’s a lie. I don’t know that woman.”

“An anonymous hook—” Robert begins.

“No!” I insist. “I never went to that club! I’ve never seen, never mind touched, that woman. It’s a lie.”

Silence settles around the room.

Coach Melvin leans forward. “I need you to think about this, Caulder.”

“There isn’t anything to think about,” I say, feeling myself spiraling down a very long tunnel. “I never leave the hotel after a game, win or lose. The only time I go out is here, at Sceptre, with the team.”

“You left the hotel in Arizona a couple days ago,” Coach Elvyra says.

I scowl at her. “To hang out with Laurent Duval, one of Arizona’s wingmen. And I promise you, I didn’t get him pregnant!” I snap. “We became friends at the All-Star Games after being forced to share a room. But again, I’m going to point out that it’s not even possible to get him pregnant. I didn’t do this. I don’t know her. It’s a lie. How did you even know I left the hotel in Arizona?”

God, I think I said far too much just now. They’re going to know!

“I was out front when you walked by,” Coach Elvyra explains. “You walked right by me when you climbed into the car.”

I wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

She chuckles. “It’s fine, Caulder. I know you’d have said hi had you seen me. You’re a very polite man.”

I try to give her a polite smile since I know she’s trying to… make me feel better, I guess.

“The team accounts are being tagged all over the place as she continually puts out a cry to get in touch with you,” Robert says. “We haven’t responded and we’ve been removing tags all over the place. It’s becoming a full-time job.”

I hang my head, pressing it into my palms. I’m going to be sick. “I didn’t touch her,” I insist. “She’s lying.”

“I don’t mean this to sound disbelieving, but she’s very clearly pregnant,” Robert points out.

“I don’t mean this to sound like an asshole, but it could very well have been you since you also have the means to knock a girl up,” I hiss. “I. Wasn’t. There.”

Robert presses his lips together and I can’t help but wonder—does this fall under ‘all attention is good attention,’ the shit he usually spews? I can’t imagine it is since he just said they’ve been untagging the team.

“I suggest calling your agent and considering getting a lawyer. Especially if this isn’t yours,” Robert says.

I glare at Robert, remembering the shit he tried to pull with Creed, Ethan, and Jakub when that whole shit went down. It’s clear he doesn’t believe me. I hate him.

“Keep your head down until we have a plan of action,” Coach says more calmly. He gives Robert a hard look. “Do not disappear; that’s not what I’m suggesting. But now that this has gotten the attention this girl is looking for, I imagine paparazzi will show up soon.”

I want to cry. Instead, I nod numbly.

“You have our support,” Coach Elvyra promises. “I didn’t believe for a second this was true. It’s not your character.”

Coach Melvin nods, offering me a smile. “Get in touch with your agent. He’s expecting your call. We’ll come up with a plan.”

I step into the hall and lean against the cold, concrete block wall. A shudder runs through my entire body. This is what I get for literally doing nothing. I’ve lived my entire life in a careful fucking bubble and still I get this shit.

Picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I call my agent.

“Caulder,” Rigo answers.

“It wasn’t me,” I say in greeting. “I swear to you, Rigo, I didn’t touch her. She’s lying. I never even left the hotel.”

“I know.”

I pause. Even my feet stop moving. “You do?”

He chuckles. “I’ve known you for seven years, Caulder. I’ve watched you longer while I was considering you for Pride Sports. I still have eyes on you because you’re my client. This isn’t something you’d do.”

Relief washes through me to have his unwavering belief. “What do I do?”

“Unfortunately, there isn’t anything we can truly do until the child is born and a paternity test is performed.”

The relief is short lived, apparently. “When is that?”

“Summer.”

I wince. “I can’t live the next three months with this hanging over my head!”

“Five months,” Rigo corrects. “She’s due in August.”

Okay, now I just want to sob.

“This is what we’re going to do—you’re not going to respond. Do not engage. Do not speak to anyone about it. We’re going to get a lawyer and seek some council on how we respond until the child is born.”

“Can I delete my social media accounts?” I ask.

“You can.”

I nod, though that doesn’t make me feel better. “I’ve already suggested that the team blocks her account so she can’t continue to tag them, though that doesn’t do much good for everyone else tagging the team.”

“There’s no way to prove that it wasn’t me before five months?” I ask.

“I’ve already been in touch with both the hotel and the club. If this had come up within thirty days of the dates you were there, we could have visual evidence. The club doesn’t keep more than two weeks before recycling the space on the hard drive, but the hotel is trying to recover for us,” Rigo says. “I’m afraid that this is going to be a waiting game for a while. Keep your head down and do not talk about it with anyone. Don’t answer questions. Don’t even glare. Just ignore it.”

My gut clenches. “Okay.”

“Go about life as normal. If the paparazzi get bad, I have the name for a security detail.”

And now I have a sour taste in my mouth. I hate this. I hate everything about it!

“Okay.”

“It’s going to be fine.”

We get off the phone and I’m left staring at the back door. Pushing it open a few inches, I peek outside. I don’t see anyone. No cameras. No random people waiting. There’s an arena security guard at the far end of the parking lot.

Taking a breath, I head for my car. I make it without incident. As soon as I’m inside, I rest my head on the steering wheel, start the car, and dial Lo.

“Are you okay?” he asks as soon as he picks up.

“No,” I answer, squeezing my eyes closed. “I’m going to be sick.”

“We know the truth,” he says. “It’s going to be okay.”

“But the world thinks I’m a sleaze ball. And there’s nothing I can do about it for five fucking months until she brings that thing into the world!”

Lo chuckles. “People don’t like to have their babies called things, babe.”

“Right now, I can’t bring myself to care. She’s trying to ruin my life.”

“She’s trying to get your money,” he corrects.

“I’d give her money to go away,” I mutter.

“No, you won’t. You hear me? Do not do that. She doesn’t get a penny. Take a breath, babe. Breathe for me.”

I spend the next several minutes doing nothing but breathing and listening to Lo’s quiet, sexy voice surround me.

“Where are you?”

“In my car.”

“Heading home from practice?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Can you make it home safely or do you need to call Creed?”

A smile touches my lips. “I can drive. I just… I needed to hear your voice, I guess.”

“I always need to hear yours. Stay on the phone with me.”

Picking my head up, I put the car in drive. We talk about nothing for the ride home and I pull right into my garage. There aren’t any suspicious people around with cameras or even their phones pointed in my direction.

I know I said I’d go to Creed’s once I put my laundry in, but I feel so heavy right now. My feet drag as I head to my room and drop onto my bed, curling up.

“Turn on your video, Caulder.”

“No,” I whine.

“Yes. Let me look at you.”

I feel pouty and scowly at the same time when I pull my phone away and hit the video button. The screen remains blue with a little circle spinning, then Lo’s face appears.

“There you are, my sweet virgin boy,” he murmurs as he fights a smile.

I roll my eyes. “The irony of this situation is not lost on me,” I deadpan.

Lo chuckles. “It’s going to be okay, Caulder. I promise.”

Sighing, I close my eyes. “You promise me a lot of things, Lo.”

“That kid isn’t yours. We both know that without a doubt. I’ve had all your firsts and I’m keeping them. Fuck this girl if she thinks she can take that away.”

My eyes open and I stare at him on the screen. The possessive tone is definitely new, but damn does it skate down my spine with pleasure.

“I’m keeping your firsts. All of them. All the ones we’re going to have and every single one I already do. I promise everything will be fine. It’s going to suck for a bit, but it will be fine. And I’m right here.”

I sigh and close my eyes again. “I wish you were here,” I whisper.

“Me too, Caulder. Soon. I swear.”

My eyes close again, but the weight on me remains. It hangs over my head like a shadow. It’s sitting on my chest like an elephant. I hate everything about this.

But I don’t know how to make it go away.

More than anything, I wish Lo were here. Wrapped around me. Holding me tight. Shutting out the world so all I knew was him.

Maybe this whole thing was a mistake—getting involved with someone far away. No, more than that. The entire weekend. Because now I know what I’m missing. Now I know what it’s like to be held and kissed and made to feel important to someone.

And now it’s right there, yet I can’t reach it. I’m lonelier now than I have ever been. 

CHAPTER 26

LO

“You think deleting all your accounts is going to make this go away? News flash, Caulder—you stick your dick in without protection, this happens.”

I feel increasingly angry with each damn video. Each new piece of evidence that this girl is a piece of shit. And the comments section? 

Just another deadbeat parent. 

Athletes should be held accountable for child support for their one night stands just like every other lowly American who fucks up.

Disgusting. Haines just lost another fan.

Put your money where your dick went.

Man up.

Dumpster fire. I don’t know why I look at them. Probably because I’m waiting for someone to come to his defense. Anyone at all. 

The league as a whole has been silent. Buffalo hasn’t said anything. Caulder deleted every social media account he had. There’s been zero response. 

I close the app and look up—at the wrong fucking moment as a mention of this shit is skimmed over on Sports Spot. 

“I’ll be interested to see if the current social media slaughter will affect Buffalo’s game tomorrow,” Reese Davie says. “They’ve had a decent season. Not the best in the Atlantic Division, but such an improvement on last year.”

“Very true. They’re skating by the edge of their blades as far as making it to the playoffs. This disaster could have serious consequences on their game play,” Dari Nolan responds. 

Thankfully, they move on after that. I’m scowling. These fuckers. You’re adding to the bullshit, even if in a neutral way. I’m thankful that almost all of Sports Spot focuses on sports. Not players’ private lives or any other drama. 

Molly Zubin is their ‘athletic lifestyles’ anchor, which to me is a fancy title for gossip monger. I’ve turned the channel every time she comes on. I don’t want to hear her opinion because it’s just going to piss me off. 

“You know,” Keno says and I glance in his direction. He and Etna are sitting in front of my coffee table with game controllers in their hands. 

I have a true bachelor pad. The big TV hanging on the wall usually always has Sports Spot on. Sometimes I change to one of the other sports channels, but this one is my favorite. When the big television’s off, a screen saver pops up, making it look like living art. It’s cool until one of the random graphics starts watching you as you move around the house. Then it’s just creepy as fuck.

There’s a fifty-inch television on the low stand beneath it that’s connected to all the game consoles. I don’t always have both running. In fact, I rarely do. Usually only when there’s a game I want to watch, but it’s not quite holding my attention, so I’m playing video games too. Or when my friends are over. 

“I can appreciate that the world blows up straight boy drama just as much as gay boy drama,” Keno comments.

Etna snorts.

“No really,” Keno continues. “I think the last big thing was… Felton Cock Sucker. A couple months ago, right? Would it have been blown out of the water like that had it been a straight guy shooting porn?”

“Yes,” Hilt and Horny say in unison. 

“In his case—similar to Max Latham’s—it would have gotten just as much negative attention. What wouldn’t have been tagged on is the hate toward them that came with it,” Hilt says. “Porn is porn.”

“The world is still in its sex-shaming era,” Etna says. “Ohh, people enjoy sex. Shaaaameful.”

I chuckle, despite my sour attitude. His prissy woman voice always makes me laugh. 

“But like… the Buffalo trio? Yeah, that was only heightened because it’s three men. It probably would have gotten some attention if it was one man and two women, but not like it did for them,” Hilt agrees. 

“Then there’s Coach Adak,” Horny adds, “who did absolutely nothing wrong but rescue his boyfriend from an abusive situation, and look at the field day the media had there.”

“At least that ended well,” Etna says. “And Carolina is having a fucking year, man. Toby Eads says they’re going to make the playoffs. He’s calling it between Carolina and Tampa.”

“Ugh,” Keno groans. “I hate that Tampa might win. Why do the jackasses always win?”

“I’m totally rooting for Carolina,” Horny says. “Unless we get our shit together and kick some ass—then I’m rooting for us.”

I chuckle.

We fall silent again when Reese Davie makes another mention about Caulder. My blood turns hot and I’m real fucking close to shutting the TV off. 

“You think he did it?” Horny asks. 

“No,” I say sharply. My tone is apparently aggressive enough that all four turn to look at me. 

“You two are friends now, right?” Etna asks. 

I nod, trying to curb my irritation. How can someone even question this?! I mean, that chick is looking for attention. Drama. Fucking money!

“You’ve talked to him about it?”

“Yes. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t even leave the hotel in Philly. Caulder doesn’t go out unless he’s in Buffalo and only then, he goes with his friends to a single place where they play pool and foosball and shit. He doesn’t even know who she is,” I say defensively. Because that’s my only mode right now. 

“You don’t think he might have snuck out for a hookup?” Keno asks. 

I glare at him. 

Keno raises his hands. “Just asking, Lo.”

“No, he wouldn’t do that.” The words grit between my teeth. There’s that irrational anger again. I really shouldn’t get this defensive, should I? It’s just because it’s Caulder and I know how much this is fucking with him. My. Caulder. 

“What’s the plan? There’s been zero answer to her claims,” Horny says. 

I shrug. I’m not even withholding information because I don’t know. Caulder doesn’t know. Between his agent, his new lawyer, and the team, he’s sitting quietly locked away in his house. Which isn’t good for him. 

He’s not alone today, though. He has practice and then his friends are going to his house. Which is good. Hopefully they make sure he eats. They can’t do anything about him not sleeping, though. The bags under his eyes, just two days since he learned about this, are dark. 

“I don’t know, but I believe him. His coach believes him. His agent believes him, and his entire team believes him. If you know Caulder, you know this isn’t something he’d do. Not something he’d risk for a fucking hookup.” 

Never mind that he’s never touched a girl in his life. He’s never touched anyone in his life. Except me. My possessive caveman DNA really wants to keep it that way. Keep this man as mine. So his hands ever only touch me. His dick only touches me. 

More importantly, I’m the only one who will ever touch him. Please him. Comfort him. I’m positive that this man is my soulmate. I sure as fuck won’t be letting him go.

“We’re just curious, Lo,” Hilt teases, tossing one of my random throw pillows at me. I swat it away. “No need to get all papa bear on us.”

Taking a breath, I nod. He’s right. They’re just asking. It’s conversation. They’re not accusing. “Sorry. It pisses me off. It would piss me off if this was directed at anyone, but someone I know? Especially someone like Caulder. It extra pisses me off.”

“If it was someone like the crazy Max Latham was, I’d probably not believe him if he said it wasn’t him,” Keno says, “But yeah. Not even knowing Caulder personally, it seems… out of character. At least, out of character based on what he presents to the world.”

“He’s exactly like what he shows, but humbler. Kinder. Caulder’s a really good guy.” I stop there or I’m going to start gushing about how amazing my man is and they’re going to know that this isn’t just me being affronted for a new friend.

“Cool,” Keno says.

“I think someone should be saying something, though,” Hilt comments. “The silence just makes him look guilty.”

“This is Buffalo’s way,” Horny says. “Remember with the trio? It was like fucking weeks before they were allowed to live their lives again and not shut themselves away because it was more comfortable for the world. But the silence came first.”

“It’s not just Buffalo. Max’s thing? Absolute silence for months. I can’t imagine the hell he was going through.” Hilt sighs, shaking his head. 

“Remember the football player who was having an affair? I think there was a kid involved on one side or the other. If I remember correctly, it was on the affair side. But yeah, silence there too,” Etna agrees. 

“I think the silence is used to gather the facts and then using them to create a plan,” Hilt says. “I’m going to pretend that’s why there’s been no statements.”

We nod in agreement. In Caulder’s case, I know that’s the reason. They’re hoping the hotel can somehow dive deep into their virtual trash bins to pull security footage of the hours in which the team was there back in November. 

But that was four months ago. Unless they have a reason to keep that footage, they don’t keep it. It just takes up room on the server. 

I get it. From a business standpoint, I absolutely understand. As a man watching his boyfriend freak out a little more every hour from hundreds of miles away and helpless to do anything to comfort him or make it go away? I understand it less. 

CHAPTER 27

CAULDER

My favorite thing about waking up is opening my eyes to see Lo’s face on my tablet screen. He’s already awake, watching me. Not that I slept much. I feel like I was awake all night. Probably tossing and turning. The way I can feel my blankets tangled around me, I think that’s the case.

“Morning, sweet baby boy,” Lo greets, his voice low and quiet. There’s no sleep in it, so I think he’s been awake for a bit.

Despite the weight sitting on top of me, making it feel impossible to even turn over, I smile. Because of his words. His smile. His voice. I love that he’s here.

Well, not here, but here. He hasn’t declared that this is too much drama for him, not what he signed up for, and broken up with me. It’s a thing. People do that. We’re in a world where so many just want everything to be easy. Everything. And that’s just not the reality of life.

“Morning,” I answer.

“You didn’t sleep well,” Lo says.

I sigh. “No. Dreamless at least, but no. My waking nightmare is that somehow this psycho is going to be able to prove that her child is mine and then I’m stuck with raising a kid that I don’t want and isn’t mine.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Lo promises. “DNA doesn’t lie.”

“Remember when you asked me if I want children? I think this is going to leave a scar. I’m very much not wanting a kid anymore,” I mutter.

“You know what makes gay parents so great?” Lo asks.

I’m not sure what this has to do with anything so I shake my head.

“Because there are no accidents with gay parents. You can’t just stick it in and voilà—conception. Don’t get me wrong, we’re going to try like hell for that outcome. Practice makes perfect and all.”

I snort, laughing. My cheeks heat because they always do with this man.

“But when we have a child, it’s because we want one. No maybes. No ‘we’ll have to deal with it.’ No regrets. No hooking up anonymously in clubs and having a bad decision follow you around for the rest of your life. It’s not easy, and it’s not cheap. It’s a conscious decision that requires us to employ a means to make it happen.”

“I’m not sure all straight parents would agree with most of that,” I say.

“I think if we did a poll and straight parents were honest, there are less planned pregnancies in the world than the pompous idiots in government and church would have you believe,” Lo counters. “My cousin is a damn good mother. She loves her kids. She takes care of them. But I can promise you, not a single one was planned. She’s said more than once that if she’d made different decisions earlier in life, she wouldn’t have seven babies from three men. She’d be traveling the world.”

“How does that make her kids feel?” I muse.

“She says these things to me. Not her kids,” Lo says, laughing. “But my point is, gay men, lesbians—any same sex couples—can’t accidentally have kids. When we want kids, we have to truly work to get them. That means we’ve not only had long discussions about it, we’re also in a place to do so. We’re ready.”

I sigh and close my eyes. Trying to imagine what it would be like under different circumstances. If I were in a different place in my life. If this crazy woman didn’t exist, making some false claims and accusations that are fucking with my life.

And my head.

We lay in bed for a while longer. Since Lo’s also lying in bed, I can almost imagine that we’re in bed together. As if I could feel his body heat. His hand running softly over my skin. If I squint, he’s almost there.

My phone rings and I stretch beyond the tablet to reach it on my nightstand. The tablet falls flat and I hear Lo’s voice muffled because the speaker is now covered by my comforter, “Just so you know, I’m licking your chest right now. And biting your nipple.”

I laugh as I pull my phone to me. My stomach flips when I see it’s Rigo. “I’ll call you back, Lo.”

“Okay,” he says and ends the call as I answer my phone.

“Hi, Rigo.”

“Caulder,” he greets. “How’d you sleep?”

I snort. “Peachy. Please tell me you can make her go away.”

“No. But there are prenatal DNA tests we can do while she’s pregnant.”

My chest gets tight. Why am I nervous? Fuck’s sake—I didn’t touch her!! “Yeah? Let’s do it. Please.”

“I already have it being worked on. Your lawyer is getting the paperwork together to make sure she can’t deny the request for blood.”

I take a breath. “Why would she do that?”

“She’s getting a lot of attention. I’ve spent hours studying her social media and she’s been begging for follows and likes for two years. She finally has it. My guess is she’s going to carry this on for as long as she can.”

I hate her. Have I said this out loud because I really fucking hate her.

“I’m calling about something else, though directly related.” My shoulders tense. “I’ve sent you an image of a stilled section of her video. Take a look.”

“I really don’t want to. I deleted my accounts so I don’t have to see any of it.”

“I need you to look at it, Caulder.”

Sighing, I put him on speaker phone and tap through my phone until I get to my email. Bile rises in my stomach because… yeah, that fucking looks like me! It’s a dark, grainy photo, but it definitely looks like me dancing with some girl. Not the girl in the videos, but a girl.

Which is bogus because I rarely dance at all. And when I do get pulled onto the dance floor, my teammates bail me out quickly. I would not be dancing like that with anyone!

“That’s not me,” I say, but my voice sounds weak. Because it looks like me. This is a fucking trip.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to blurt that I’m gay and I’d never touch a girl! I never have. I’ve danced with some, but I don’t touch them. I always ensure distance between myself and them. Because I don’t want to touch them, and I also don’t want to give them mixed signals where they can interpret that maybe I’m interested.

“Can I call you back?” I ask, feeling the panic rise in my voice.

“Yes. I’ll be here.”

As soon as the call is over, I hit the recall button on my tablet. My hand is shaking. Fuck—even I think this looks like me!

Lo answers and his smile falls right away. “What happened, babe?”

“I’m sending you a picture.”

I forward the email to him and wait as I watch him tap through his phone. He frowns. “Wow,” he says. “That’s either some mad photoshop skills or you have a doppelganger.”

“Do you think announcing I’m gay is going to help or hinder this?” I ask.

Lo looks up, frowning deeper. “Caulder…”

“I want it to go away. There’s apparently a test that you can do while pregnant and the lawyer is working on paperwork to demand she comply, but… I… I’ve never touched a woman. Ever! I’m fucking gay! I’ve never questioned that. I’ve never had a beard—metaphorically or literally. I’ve never tried to convince myself otherwise or experimented with women to be sure. I’m gay. I’ve always known I’m gay. I’m proud of who I am and I love dicks. You know, hypothetically I love dicks since I’ve only experienced yours, but I’m a fan.”

Lo laughs. “You’re adorable when you panic ramble.”

I sigh. “But really, will it help or not?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. That might be a question for someone like Rigo. Or your lawyer.”

“Will you stay on video while I call him? I… I’d really love if you were here right now so I can hide my face in your chest once I say the words out loud to a second person, but here on the video where I can see you is better than nothing.”

“Always, Caulder. I’m not going anywhere.”

His loudest promises are the ones when he doesn’t actually use the word promise. I can feel them, though. I feel them in the air around me.

I nod and dial Rigo again, putting it on speaker phone.

“Caulder.”

“Is this a private line?” I ask. “No one can hear us? It’s not recorded? No one can pick it up?”

“Yes, completely private.”

“I’m gay,” I blurt.

Lo’s eyes go wide and he bites his lip. Yep, I surprised us both by just saying it. By Rigo’s silence, he’s surprised too.

“I’m not just saying that. I’m really gay. I like guys. Only guys.” My eyes shift to Lo and he’s grinning at me. I can see his amusement in his eyes.

“Okay,” Rigo says after a minute.

“I’m… You’re one of two people who know that,” I continue. “For the record, I’m not ashamed or anything. I just don’t want to be a gay athlete. I want to be an athlete. Without my sexuality attached to it.”

“I understand. I have several gay athletes who are not out publicly.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

Rigo chuckles. “Yes.”

“Wait.” I glance at Lo on the tablet. “Uh, for transparency, my boyfriend is here. Kind of. I needed his support while I told you so I have him on video. Just so you know.”

“Thank you,” Rigo says. “Though I’m never going to say something that would break anyone’s confidentiality. Nor yours. But yes, I have more than you might think. I understand.”

I sigh. “Thanks. So… I mean what I said when I say there are literally two people who know I’m gay. You and my boyfriend. That’s it. Not my parents, not my brother, not my friends. No one. I’m telling you this because… would it make a difference if I came out publicly? Would it slow this chick down or cause more damage?”

“No,” Rigo insists. “You’re not doing this.”

I glance at Lo. He’s watching me with his eyebrows raised. “I’m not?” I ask.

“No. If you want to come out for any reason other than you want to or you’re ready to make it public for yourself, then I won’t support it. I will not let you come out for any other reason, Caulder. Not even to shut this girl up.”

Lo grins, nodding.

I sigh. “I just want⁠—”

“It will happen,” Rigo promises. “Patience.”

Lo clears his throat and I look toward him. He holds up his phone and I can see he still has the picture that I sent him up.

“Hold on a second, Rigo.”

“Sure.”

“How tall are you?” Lo asks.

I raise an eyebrow, unsure why this was worth interrupting for. “Six-one. Why?”

He smiles. “This guy in the photo is probably five-ten at the very most, though I’d guess he’s shorter than that. Look at the people around him. The girl he’s dancing with. He’s only barely taller than her. And compared to those around them, she’s probably average height for a female—five and a half feet, right?”

“Rigo did you hear that?” I ask. “Also, I don’t own anything that looks like that shirt. I hate red. I don’t even own red underwear!”

Rigo chuckles. “We can leave your wardrobe out of this, but the height difference is definitely worth noting. Good catch.”

Lo smiles. “I know my man,” he mouths. My skin flushes again.

“This will help, right?” I ask.

“It will.”

“When will there be a statement put out? This silence from anyone that fucking matters is really getting to me.”

“Soon. We’ve been hoping to nip this in the bud with solid, definitive proof right out of the gate—video confirmation that you never left the hotel and/or never entered the club, a paternity test—but it’s slower to come by than we’d like simply because of the amount of time that’s passed.”

“I think something needs to be said,” I push. “I’m not even on social media, but I can see it in my teammate’s eyes. How much they’re trying extra hard to protect me. It’s sweet, but it’s stressing me out.”

“How do you feel about an interview?” Rigo asks. “A single, exclusive phone interview. We approve the questions ahead of time and you only answer the questions that have been preapproved. We’ll also talk about your answers ahead of time, to make sure you’re not saying anything that can be interpreted any other way than what you say.”

“Yes,” I agree. “Fine. Let’s do that.”

“Okay, good. I have a couple journalists in mind, so let me get in touch and I’ll keep you posted. Alexandra hopes to have the court-ordered paternity test paperwork drafted and moving through the legal system by the end of the week. We’ll also keep you posted.”

Alexandra Hale is my new attorney. She’s some bigwig woman at Van Doren Law that I’m quite intimidated to speak to, though she sounds perfectly lovely. Kind, soft spoken, even personable. Still, Van Doren Law! Gives me the chills. I didn’t even ask how Rigo knows someone there.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Lo says, “but please tell me you’ll be suing her for defamation and shit.”

“No. I just want her to go away,” I counter, shaking my head.

“She needs to have some damn consequences,” Lo argues. “I want everyone to see there are consequences to fucking lies like this that can mess with a person’s career and mental health. What she’s doing is not okay and that’s the message that needs to come from this.”

“I think your boyfriend is right,” Rigo says, even as I’m shaking my head. “You’ll win and whatever you get from this—though I’m not convinced any damages will be paid out, she doesn’t appear to be financially affluent—you can donate. I’m sure we can find an organization that supports victims in your situation.”

God, that word. Victim. I understand that by definition, I’m the victim here, though at the moment, the world sees it differently. Still, it makes me feel so helpless.

“Okay, fine. I don’t care. I just want her to go the fuck away. Please hurry on the paternity test too.”

Rigo chuckles. “Believe me, Caulder, if we could hurry the legal system in any way, we would.”

I sigh. “I know.”

“Everything else okay? You need anything?”

“No. Thanks.”

“Then we’ll talk soon.”

“Rigo?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I can’t imagine… I just keep thinking that I’m so fortunate not to have someone like Felton’s agent who would throw me under the bus. You’re doing the complete opposite. I’m sure this is out of your contractual obligations.”

“It is and it’s not,” Rigo says. “My job is to represent you. To look out for you. To protect you. Just because the wording sounds like it only pertains to your career doesn’t mean it’s the only way you need representation and protection. By all means, this is impacting your career. Maybe not from the team, but publicly.”

“What you’re saying is you’re doing your job.”

“I am. But, Caulder? Even if this didn’t impact your career, I’d be protecting you. You’re a good person and you don’t deserve these lies to infiltrate your life like they are.”

“You need a raise,” I mutter.

He chuckles. “Enjoy the rest of your day. Make sure you get some sleep. I can hear the exhaustion in your voice.”

Lo grins, nodding.

“Thanks, Rigo.”

CHAPTER 28

LO

It’s late when my tablet rings. The tension I’ve been carrying in my shoulders since I haven’t had him online melts away. Until I see his face fill my screen.

Caulder looks like he’s been run over with a Mack truck. He’s fucking exhausted.

“Hey, babe,” I say gently.

He turns toward the screen as he’s unbuttoning his shirt. We’re in his hotel bathroom right now as he strips from his suit. The dark circles under his eyes are clear, even from this distance.

It makes my fury rise all the more. This bitch better get a good dose of karma. Or I’m going to hire some fucking karma.

“Hi,” he answers, and his voice is just as tired.

“Good game tonight. Only caught the highlights, but you had both assists, yeah?”

Caulder nods. “Yeah,” he agrees.

I ordered him one of the clippy, bendy arms to hold electronic devices and I love that he brings it with him to away games. He’s in Vancouver tonight, buttoning up the tail end of a three-game away streak. Then he’ll be home with three days between now and his next game.

At this point, I think I know Caulder’s schedule better than my own. Because I’m so fucking worried about him. I hate that I can’t be there to hold him.

There’s just more of the same shit from this chick filling up the feeds. Not that I’ve looked. I had an early game today, so I haven’t been online to check since this morning. I spend a lot of time reporting comments and marking this stupid bitch’s posts as false news. Doesn’t do a lot of good. Especially since there’s no true news to counter it.

Which is also pissing me off.

Caulder steps under the water and lets his head fall back. I stare at him, my gaze combing over his body. There’s a new bruise just below his ribs on his left side. A red mark on his left arm, though I’m not sure if that’s something recent or from the game. I’ve only checked the brief report that they won in a shootout. Haven’t had time to look at the highlights yet.

“Tell me about your game,” I say.

He sighs. “There was someone in the audience with a sign pressed to the glass while we were warming up. It said BE RESPONSIBLE AND SUPPORT YOUR CHILD. Sacha broke his stick against the glass, making the girl fall backwards. He was ejected from the game. We almost received penalties before the game began when my teammates loudly argued with the refs.”

My fists clench. My jaw clenches. I manage to keep my voice devoid of most anger when I respond. “Did you get pre-game penalties?” I ask.

Caulder shakes his head. “I think we didn’t because Vancouver refused to begin if the refs enforced them. They said they’d rather take the loss than allow us the unfair penalties when it’s the people in the audience who should receive a fucking penalty. I heard Mattias tell the ref that no one was getting any pucks over the boards tonight, no autographs, nothing if they couldn’t get their shit together and stop blindly following some woman spreading lies on the internet.”

I smile. “I’m glad you have a close friend there.”

He nods. His head is still back, eyes closed.

“They said they posted online,” Caulder says. “The guys that went out that night in Philly. One of them even had a pic. They said I wasn’t with them and that I never go out with them when we travel.”

“Yeah?” I ask, pulling my phone out to look. “Did you see it?”

Caulder shakes his head. “No. I really don’t want to see anything online.”

“I know. Wash up, Caulder. You’re dead on your feet.”

He picks his head up to look at me. For a few seconds, he just blinks as if he’s remembering where he is. Then I watch as he cleans himself, scrubbing everywhere hockey sweat hides. He halfheartedly dries off and then falls into bed naked.

“Talk to me,” Caulder says, his eyes heavy.

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask.

He yawns. “Anything other than this shit. I don’t care. I just want to hear your voice.”

I smile, resting my head on my arm. I can tell he’s exhausted or he’d realize I’m not in my bedroom talking to him.

“The season’s almost over,” I start rambling. “We haven’t talked about summer yet. We’ve both mentioned that we haven’t traveled, but would like to. Want to go somewhere this summer?”

He turns his head, a smile on his pretty face. A real one. It’s small, but it’s there. Genuine. All mine.

“Yeah. Ethan and Jakub spent eight years hiding their relationship. It can’t be that hard.”

I laugh. “Agreed. You feeling some place hot or want to get cool again? Like the Alps or Alaska?”

“It’s cold here like eight months of the year. I’m going to need some heat.”

Grinning, I nod. “Okay. So… Fiji? Bali? Hawaii?” I think about it and shake my head. “Not Hawaii. I’m not sure how big hockey is there, but it’s probably not conducive to going under the radar.”

“I can see where Ethan and Jakub used to go.”

“Without them asking why you want to know?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

His eyes are closed now. He’s falling asleep. Instead of keeping talking about this, I talk about hockey drills. His lips curl in a tired smile, but his eyes don’t open. When I run out of drills, I start singing to him instead. I turn my phone on, opening the music app, and start streaming quietly. Just loud enough so I can hear and hopefully stay somewhat in tune.

Caulder falls asleep within a couple songs, but I keep singing since this is the first time he’s looked peaceful in six days since this bullshit went viral. I sing until my voice starts to sound like shit and I’m afraid my squeaks and cracks will wake him up.

Then I hum for a while longer. I’m not sure if it’s my voice or the music that helps him sleep peacefully. So when I begin falling asleep, I move my phone close to the tablet and make sure he can hear the music playing.

“Goodnight, Caulder Haines,” I whisper. “I think I love you.”

Caulder sighs in his sleep. I stare at him a while longer and decide that I don’t truly have to think about it. I love him. There’s no doubt in my mind. My heart. My entire body.

I love him.

He looks well-rested when he opens his eyes. As soon as he opens them, he immediately looks for the tablet. Looking for me. There’s nothing that makes my heart race more than that. I’m his first thought.

“Morning, babe,” I say.

His smile climbs. “Morning.”

“You look like you got some sleep.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “Someone was singing to me and promising me a vacation.”

“I’ll sing to you any time, though I think it’ll sound best when you’re half asleep.”

He grins.

“Also, I have every intention of taking you on vacation, Caulder. We’ve kind of talked in theory about what happens after the season’s over, but I will be on the first flight to you after my last game.”

“You’re going to come here? You don’t want me to come there?”

“For now, I’ll fly to you. We can go from there. I have a feeling any place we want to go is going to be easiest to fly from the East Coast anyway.”

Caulder sighs. His eyes close again but this time, they’re relaxed. For this small window, he’s not thinking about the stupid bitch who’s caused him so much stress and panic. For this tiny moment in time, he’s only thinking about happy things. Me.

“What time do you have to go?” I ask.

He shifts in bed until he finds his phone. “Hour.”

“Get up and get dressed. You need to eat. I can see that you haven’t been eating.”

“Yes, Dad,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes. But he gets up, grabbing the tablet as he moves through the room.

Watching him get ready makes my chest warm. It feels normal. Moving through life with him. Sharing his mundane daily tasks and being here for anything. Any random thought. Every big moment. All things that make him upset. I’m here.

Far away, but here. It sucks, and I love it at the same time.

I reluctantly get off the line when he can’t stall going out the door any longer. He does need to eat. If I thought it wouldn’t raise too many questions, I’d message Creed to make sure Caulder eats something.

Now it’s a waiting game. Half an hour until they board the bus. Twenty-minute ride to the airport. Probably another forty minutes, at least, before he’s on the Skidmoss jet. Then there’s a five-and-a-half-hour flight if the skies are clear and there are no delays in landing. Another forty minutes to deplane and get to the bus on the other end.

There’s going to be a big gap between check out and when I see him. I’m not sure what to do with my day until then. What’s there to do in Buffalo in March? If it wouldn’t raise questions, I’d go to the arena and utilize their gym. I doubt they’d mind.

Instead, I pass my time watching television and scrolling through social media. I should stay off social media because it just pisses me off. But at least all this woman’s posts are basically repeats of the last handful. As are the comments. I spend a couple hours reporting fake news and hate comments as I absently listen to sports news.

When check out comes, I convince the reception to allow me into the hotel gym and hold my bags. There I pass another handful of hours. Caulder messages me sporadically. I know he’s on his flight now. Thirty thousand feet in the sky, probably flying over Wisconsin right now. Maybe not that far. Minnesota maybe.

I know he’s talking to his friends because his texts are spread out. He does that so he doesn’t appear too focused on his phone. No questions that way.

I’m not nearly as good about hiding the fact that I text him as often as I do. Keno is especially interested to know about the girl I’m hiding, which of course makes everyone else turn their attention to me. The only answer I give him is that I’m not hiding a girl.

Which is 100% true! No girls here.

By the time three o’clock rolls around, I’ve spent enough time at the gym that I’m regretting the fact there’s no shower here. I clearly didn’t think this through. Thankfully, the same woman is at the front and I explain that I’m here to surprise my partner who hasn’t landed yet and I need a shower so I don’t meet them all smelly. I need like twenty minutes in a room.

She hands me a keycard and tells me to hurry. I leave her a $100 tip.

Caulder should be at his house around six. As soon as he calls me on his way home from the arena, I’ll head to his house. He’ll text me once he lands in Buffalo and I’ll see where I am in relation to where he lives. Just in case I need to leave sooner.

I could go now, but then his neighbors will spot a random person lingering outside his house and someone might call the cops. That would be counterproductive to what I’m trying to accomplish here.

After grabbing something to eat, I wander around the mall for a while until Caulder’s text comes through. Finally! I get to see my man soon. We’re in the same state again!

I’m relatively close to his house, so I’m not concerned about getting there before him. I can always tell him I’m shopping to explain the background noise. It’s only half untrue. I am at the mall, after all.

He calls me as soon as he gets in his car. I’m already in a Shuttled on the way to his house because I ran out of patience.

“Hey, babe,” I say. “How was your flight?”

Caulder sighs. There’s stress in his voice again. “Fine. I talked to Rigo. He decided on a journalist. The same one that talked to Ethan, Creed, and Jakub. They’re discussing questions now. I should have them in a couple days.”

I both love that Rigo is on top of shit and keeping Caulder in the loop, but hate that he’s once again thinking about it. It was good to see him appear almost normal this morning when he woke up.

“Good. He seemed like a cool guy.”

“Creed liked him,” he says. “I think he’s still the only one they have interviews with.”

“Any word on the legal shit?”

“It’s been filed with the court. I told him I’m not afraid to throw money at it to make it move faster. He’s not letting me.”

There’s a quiet whine in his voice.

“It’s going to be fine. It’ll all go away soon. Then we’re going to demand an apology from the fucking world for blindly siding with the wrong fucking person.”

“Is it blindly, though? That picture…”

“First of all, it’s not you. Just because it looks like you, doesn’t mean it is. Second, even if it is you, that’s not her in the picture that ‘you’re’ dancing with. And third, there’s literally zero proof that the picture was taken at that club, never mind when it was taken.”

Caulder sighs. “I know.”

“When will you be home? I need to see your face. It’s been hours!”

He laughs. “Fifteen minutes.”

I grin as I step out of the Shuttled, placing a finger over my lips so the driver doesn’t speak. He smiles, nodding. I get out and shut the door and they pull away.

“What’re you doing?” Caulder asks.

Couldn’t hide the door closing, I guess. “Just getting home. Was at the mall.”

“Ew. Why?”

“Browsing. I needed to pass the time until I could talk to you again.”

He hums and I can just imagine him smiling. I sit on his stoop, thankful that I’m mostly blocked from any prying eyes on the road. I’m not quite out of sight, but I’m not too obviously hanging out like a creep, either.

As the minutes pass and he gets closer and closer, my heart won’t stop racing. It’s been only nine days since our teams played each other. Nine since we’ve been together. Since I’ve touched him and kissed him. Held him to me.

But with all the shit going on, it feels longer. Like a month. Or two.

His garage door opening makes my heart jump into my throat. I quickly cover my mic to try to muffle the sound, so he doesn’t hear it back. His car pulls in, driving straight into the garage. The door closes and I wait.

It’s clear he hasn’t seen me. Caulder’s still talking on the phone so I listen to the background to try to gauge what he’s doing. Where he’s at. When he’ll switch to video.

“Okay, I’m going to call you on my tablet,” he says.

I ring the doorbell and hear it through the phone. Caulder sighs.

“Can I just ignore that?”

Laughing, I say, “No. Go answer the door. We’ll talk after.”

He sighs in exasperation. “This better be good,” he mutters and then hangs up.

I’ve just pocketed my phone when the door opens. Caulder stares at me in shock. Eyes wide. “Lo?”

“I’ve been waiting for fucking ever,” I complain, teasingly. “What took you so long?”

His eyes fill with tears, and he launches himself at me. I catch him, holding him tightly. His body trembles and I feel a tear on my neck. I hold him tighter.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “How did you know I need you here so badly?”

“Because I need to be here just as badly,” I answer. “I got you, babe. I’m not going to let you go until the very last minute in thirty-six hours. Promise.”

CHAPTER 29

CAULDER

I’m pacing my living room, knowing that it’s just a matter of minutes before the interview is released everywhere. I made a decision that I’m not sure I won’t regret once it’s out there. But I did it for me. Not because of what this girl is doing.

I think.

I’m fairly confident.

Either way, my world is going to shift dramatically after this and… I’m terrified. What I wouldn’t give for Lo to be here right now.

But we both have a game tomorrow on opposite sides of the country, so it just didn’t seem logical. In fact, he’s traveling right now, which means my nerves are fucking fraying as I pace alone. Lo’s on his way home from Edmonton, where Arizona played yesterday.

This last week has been a whirlwind. Lo was here for almost exactly thirty-six hours before he had to go. I didn’t leave his arms. We were in contact nearly the entire time. It wasn’t until he left that I realized we didn’t mess around at all. No groping hands. No orgasms. Not even in the shower.

There was nothing missing from our time together either. Our relationship is more than sex and maybe for the first time, I felt that physically. I mean, I knew that already. Mentally. Emotionally, even. But I kind of thought that the physical parts would outweigh everything else when we were in the same place.

I’m surprised and fucking love that it doesn’t. It was the best thirty-six hours I could have asked for. Even though my world was still fucking rocky, I’ve felt immensely better since he was here.

Of course, now I long for him to be here more. His absence feels louder. My heart aches for him more strongly.

But this week has been… interesting. I’m not sure if this woman posted something new to stir the pot or if someone bit back, but I’ve received tons of calls in support. People that I don’t talk to often. Not because they’re not important in my life but because… well, life happens.

Egon Wolf called me. His first words were: “Want me to send a hitman?”

I laughed, but he didn’t. I’m going to pretend he wasn’t serious. God the way the attention would turn to me then!

Almost right on his heels, everyone from my past life when we were on the college team together reached out—Valenti, Jipson, Coach Adak. All offering me their support. Asking if there was anything they could do.

It touched me in a way that nearly had me in tears. Especially when Coach Adak called.

Now it’s quiet. Too fucking quiet. What I wouldn’t give for Lo to be somewhere that we could at least be on the phone together. Even if not on video.

The interview is being released in multiple places, both written and audio. I’ve heard and read both. I approved them.

But fuck, I may pass out.

So I pace back the length of my living room, keeping my attention half on Sports Spot. The doorbell makes me jump and my entire body snaps in that direction. Did… did Lo come back?

I practically run to the door and throw it open. It’s not Lo. It’s my brother. Behind him is his whole family.

“Luca?”

Luca rolls his eyes. “It hasn’t been that long, Caulder,” he deadpans. “Please don’t tell me you forgot what I look like.”

“No, I—” My words trail off as I shake my head. I know he’s joking, but I’m too surprised to see him to laugh. “Did I forget you were coming?”

“No, but it’s like eight degrees out. You want to let us in?”

“Oh,” I say, taking a step back. “Sorry.”

The entire household comes in and suddenly, there’s no way I can feel like my house is empty with five more men and three kids. Jasmine flings her arms around me right away. She’s taller now; I think she’s grown like four inches. She’s ten now and the top of her head is nearly in my chest.

“Jeez, Jazz. How tall are you now?”

Jasmine shrugs. “Not as tall as you.”

Coraline pushes her out of the way. “My turn. Stop being a hog.”

“She’s bossy for a six-year-old,” Jasmine comments, stepping back and unzipping her jacket.

Grinning, I pick up my second niece and hug her tightly.

Destin doesn’t try to pry his sister away for a hug. Instead, he just wraps his arms around us both. “You okay, Uncle?” he asks, concern in his eyes.

I kiss his forehead. “I’m good.”

“You look less good than you’re trying to have us believe,” Luca comments.

Fuck, they’re going to be here when the interview is live. I think I’ve done this wrong.

“And now you look panicky,” Orson says, frowning.

Because I can’t hide this from my face apparently, I turn my back on them and walk into the living room. Should I turn the television off? I think that’s more suspicious than leaving it on. Especially since it’s almost always on. I like to hear sports updates.

I set Coraline on the couch with her siblings and turn to my brother. “Really, I didn’t forget plans? You randomly dropped everything to fly across the country and just drop in?”

He doesn’t have a chance to answer before we all hear my name on the television. My breath catches as I stare. Oh no. It’s coming.

“Caulder Haines has finally released a statement in response to the accusations against him. If you’re unaware or are living under a rock, it’s come to light these last two weeks that an aspiring influencer is claiming that after a club hookup, she is now pregnant with Haines’ child. There has been zero response from Haines or Buffalo. Even with the damning photo of him in the club,” Adrian Tirico says.

“It’s probably the photo that’s forced his hand,” Dari Nolan suggests.

“It’s hard to argue that and yet, this is very compelling. Shocking, even.” Adrian pauses and a clip of my interview plays.

The room is deathly silent as my voice fills the room. It’s surreal hearing myself when I’m not speaking.

“This is a case of mistaken identity,” my voice says. “I admit that the man in the picture looks uncannily like me. I even questioned it. But I’m over six feet tall. The man in the picture is at least half a foot shorter than I am.”

The recording stops.

“Ohhh,” Adrian says and the picture I’m referring to is now on the screen. “That’s some sleuthing for sure. I didn’t notice that.”

A picture of me standing beside our assistant coach pops up next, illustrating my height.

“Definitely curious.”

“Keep playing the recording,” Dari instructs.

My voice fills the room again. I can feel my brother and in-laws looking at me. Color drains from my face. It’s coming. The words are coming.

“Everyone has been quick to raise their pitchforks and blindly believe this woman. I get it—women choose the bear every time because of moments like this where they’re mistreated by men. But sometimes, men choose the bear too. I don’t know that woman. I’ve never seen her before in my life. The only time and place I go out is to Sceptre here in Buffalo with my friends. I don’t go out when we’re on the road except for the night I joined some of the guys at the All-Star Games back in February in Florida. Any of my teammates will tell you that. My college teammates will tell you that. Going out isn’t my thing.”

I close my eyes. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. It’s coming.

“But the truth of the matter and what it really boils down to is simple; if I did go out, I wouldn’t touch a woman. I’ve never touched a woman. I’m gay. I’ve known I was gay since I was nine. There’s never been a moment of doubt, question—nothing. I’m gay. And I’ve never been with a woman.”

The room was already silent, but it feels like a blanket has fallen over us. All the little sounds of life have faded away as blood rushes in my ears. I’m going to be sick. I’m going to pass out. My brother, his husbands, my nieces and nephew are all staring at me as the next question fills the room.

“Why did you choose this moment to come out?” Elrod Barlowe asks. “You know what people are going to say—this seems like a convenient time to announce that you’re gay.”

I close my eyes as my words rush back to me.

“I chose to keep this to myself because sexuality isn’t a public matter. It doesn’t affect how I do my job and my private life shouldn’t be discussed anywhere. Frankly, it’s no one’s business who I love or what I do in my free time. The deciding factor to keep this to myself for as long as I have is simple—I don’t want to be a gay athlete. I want to be an athlete. My sexuality shouldn’t be added onto my occupation. There aren’t headlines or comments that lead in with Straight hockey player Caulder Haines but there are headlines that read Gay hockey player Credence Ayrton. I don’t want to be constantly labeled by my sexuality. It’s not a factor in my career and it shouldn’t define me in any way. But I’m choosing to come out now because I think it’s important to make the distinction that not every accusation is true.”

“This isn’t going to put the argument to rest,” Elrod says.

“No. But a DNA test will. A court-ordered paternity test is being served to this woman today that will prove whoever got her pregnant just happened to look like me. I’ve already been to the clinic for my part.”

The interview continues, pausing every few minutes as Dari and Adrian make a comment about the impact of such a statement. On the interview and the message. One of the reasons I’ve always liked Sports Spot is because they’re neutral. They rarely give opinions on anything other than the sport they’re reporting on.

But both anchors agree with me. They agree that accusations are not facts. Regardless of how much the picture looks like me, there’s no evidence that the picture was taken at the club in question nor on the date in question. There’s no evidence of me being seen with this woman except her word.

The show goes to commercials. I wince, swaying on my feet. A beat passes and no one speaks. No one moves.

“Kids, go get a snack,” Orson says.

Silently, all three get up and leave the room.

I open my eyes and find myself facing my brother. Fuck. I’m going to be sick for real. I can taste it.

Luca crosses the room and wraps his arms around me. My breath punches out of my lungs and tears sting my eyes. He doesn’t speak for a minute.

“You’ve been carrying that for a long time,” he whispers. I nod. “Why didn’t you tell me, Caulder? You can’t possibly think I’m homophobic.”

Several of his husbands snort.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” I say quietly. “The reasons I kept it to myself are just as I said in the interview. If I’d told anyone at all, there was always the chance it could be broadcast before I was ready. Accidentally. Maliciously. Carelessly. Whatever. But it’s my choice when to tell people and I wanted to keep complete control of that decision.”

Luca sighs.

Orson wraps his arms around both of us a minute later. He may as well be my brother too. He’s been in my life for as long as I can remember. Always with Luca. Always a part of my family.

“We would have taken it to our grave, but we also completely understand and respect that,” Orson says. He rests his forehead on my temple.

“I guess I was ready.” Realizing in the moment that it’s the absolute truth, even though I’ve been so nervous, my stomach has been sour. “Things have changed in my life recently, and while it looks like this stupid woman is the reason I’m coming out now, it’s not. It’s just made me realize that I’m ready for other, more important reasons.”

“What reasons are they?” Luca asks.

“I, uh… have a boyfriend,” I admit and both men take a step back to look at me. “I think I love him. We’ve been talking about the future and… I don’t want to have to sneak around anymore. I don’t want to pretend we’re just friends when we travel or when we’re seen in public.”

Luca and Orson look at me incredulously. But it’s Zvi who speaks.

“Were you going to wait to introduce us at your wedding?”

I laugh because it’s almost exactly what Lo said all those weeks ago. It feels good to laugh. It feels good to tell them. To share this part of my life. Not the being gay thing. That doesn’t matter. I know, even to them, a gay household, it doesn’t matter.

The part that feels freeing is that I’ve shared that there’s someone important in my life now.

“Mom’s going to ground you,” Luca says, smirking. “She’s going to be furious that you didn’t tell her about this boyfriend.”

“I love that we get to hear it first,” Orson adds, grinning. “I’m going to enjoy holding it over her head too.”

I roll my eyes.

“Who is he?” Zvi asks, pushing his way through the two of them and wrapping his arms around my waist for a quick hug. “Do we know him?”

“I’m not telling you who he is. He isn’t out.”

“So still in secret,” Luca comments, frowning.

“There’s something really hot about sneaking around,” Wren says, wiggling his eyebrows.

All four men look at Vulcan. The big man silently standing in the doorway to the kitchen where he’s keeping an eye on the kids blushes madly.

“I don’t want to know what that’s about,” I say, pulling their attention back to me. “But yeah, I’m not upset about keeping our relationship secret—I just don’t want to have to. People are going to be poking around now, and I really don’t want this part of my life plastered all over the internet for the world to watch and judge. It’s still new and I don’t want that kind of pressure on us.”

“They get bored after a while,” Orson says. “It really pisses them off when they don’t get a response from you.”

“Just like this woman, they’re looking for attention,” Zvi agrees. “Any attention. Showing them that they’re not even worth acknowledging really pisses them off.” He shrugs. “They get bored and turn their attention somewhere that will give them what they’re looking for.”

I nod. “Good to know. I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.”

Zvi smiles. “I’m full of useful tips.” He gives me a wink before turning around and dropping onto my couch.

“Just so it’s out there—I’m not asking for tips.”

He grins, waggling his eyebrows. I sigh.

“Thanks for being here,” I say, leaning against Luca. He wraps an arm around me. “I’ve been borderline freaking out knowing that this was going to drop today and I was here alone. I really appreciate you being here.”

“You could have just asked,” Luca tells me. “I’d have come, no questions asked.”

I nod.  “I know. I… don’t even have a reason that I didn’t. My friends would be here too if I asked. But I guess part of me was afraid of being here with people who didn’t know and then it being told to them by my voice on the TV and… the conversation I’d have to have.”

“That conversation is going to come, regardless,” Orson reminds me.

“Yes, I know. But… yeah. I don’t know.”

“Brother intuition,” Luca says. He squeezes me close. “Now let’s talk about this boyfriend.”

CHAPTER 30

LO

Her newest videos are now furious that she’s been issued a DNA test and that he’s claiming he’s gay instead of being a decent human being and fathering up. These videos are a mistake because finally the comments are turning on her.

If you’re so convinced that it’s his, get the paternity test.

You’re only angry because you’ve been caught in a lie. If that’s not his kid, he definitely doesn’t owe you or it anything.

YOU be the decent human being and get the damn test.

Wow. Changed your tune pretty quickly when you need to back up your claims.

Get the fucking test and shut up.

I don’t mark those videos as fake news, but I still spend most of my trip going through her old shit and reporting those. I also go through the comments sections, which have new, less bullshit comments now. I also leave those, but mark the blind followers as hate comments.

Clearly, my hours spent doing this haven’t made a difference because all her bullshit is still there. But what else am I going to do on a late flight? Sleeping isn’t an option. It’s not that long.

The one she posted right after Caulder’s interview was simply her laughing for the first minute. Waving her hand in front of the screen. Holding a finger up for her audience to wait.

“My man, you can’t just call yourself gay, now. It doesn’t work like that baby.” She leans forward and gives the camera a haughty look. “You stuck your dick in me. You weren’t gay then, Caulder Haines. This isn’t going away because you decided that you’re going to suddenly like boys.”

I do enjoy the comments after that. Almost all of them are in Caulder’s favor.

His point isn’t that he suddenly decided to be gay. It’s that he’s been gay all along and never touched your ass.

THAT’s that part you want to comment on? Not the fact that he’s calling you out to prove your bullshit?

You know what? We should have gotten behind him all along. You crazy.

I admit, if you were coming after me with bs like this, I’d turn to dick too.

You’re right—it doesn’t work like that. He is gay and he didn’t touch you. How about you take the paternity test?

It kills me not to tap the little heart next to some comments. But I don’t want my name showing up anywhere in relation to this. To any drama, not just this.

In the two weeks since Caulder’s interview went live, there’s been a lot of support for Caulder. Not just in hockey—where everyone finally woke the fuck up and decided to speak up on his behalf—but within the LGBTQIA+ community too. There have been a lot of LGBTQIA+ influencers and content creators making short, brief supporting statements. Some of them stating that they understand completely. Straight sexuality isn’t a title when heterosexuals are talked about—why should gay men and women be labeled as if it’s a salutation? Mr. Smith just won gold. Mr. White was promoted. The gay hockey player just scored a hat trick.

Caulder’s full interview lasted more than an hour. I’ve listened to it several times. The pride that fills me from everything he said makes me feel all warm and gooey inside. It did nothing but emphasize that he’s legitimately a good person.

It’s been difficult to get back to him in the last two weeks. We managed one thirty-hour visit just north of Nashville when we were both close with away games. Otherwise, we’ve been stuck with several hundred miles of distance between us. It sucks.

But since Caulder’s interview, he’s looked a lot better. He sounds better. Not back to where he was before this bitch blew up everywhere, but the stress in his voice doesn’t have me so concerned that he’s going to have a heart attack. And his skin isn’t so sallow.

It’s close to one in the morning when my plane lands. Since it’s such a short trip, I only have a backpack, so I don’t have to stop at the carousel. My Shuttled arrives within five minutes and I’m on my way.

Caulder stopped responding to texts an hour ago, so I assume he’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him since I know he hasn’t been sleeping well over the last month with all the bullshit happening. He gave me a house key the last time I was here because he had to leave for practice, but didn’t want me to be stuck at his house while he was gone. It works out now because I don’t have to wake him with a text or the doorbell if he is asleep.

The car drops me off and I let myself in. After locking up and slipping out of my shoes, I walk through his dark house and stop in his bedroom doorway.

Caulder is on his back, blankets low on his waist giving me a teasing view of the dick bump under them. I swear, if the lighting wasn’t so dim, his head is likely poking out. His arms are up, as if he fell on his back and remained that way. In the hand closest to the nightstand where the lamp is casting a very low light is his cell phone, his head turned that way as if he were watching it.

I take a breath, admiring him. He looks so peaceful. So beautiful.

A yawn overtakes me and I creep quietly into the room so I don’t wake him and shut myself in his ensuite. I take a shower to get all the airport germs off me and brush my teeth before stepping back into the bedroom again. I contemplate underwear, but ultimately decide against it.

Caulder jumps a little when I climb on the bed, his hand not holding the phone coming down to rub at his chest. He turns his head and tired eyes meet mine. He smiles and reaches for me.

“Lo,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

I bring my body down on his and we wrap around each other. His arms are tight, letting me know how much he missed me. I grip him just as tightly, hoping he feels the same from me in return.

He sighs.

“Go back to sleep,” I murmur.

Caulder rolls us so he’s on top of me. His mouth moves lazily over my neck as he gives me sleepy kisses. I smile, eyes dropping.

“How long are you here?” he asks.

“Thirty-two hours,” I answer.

He sighs again. “I hate long-distance.”

“I know. It won’t last forever.”

He’s quiet for a minute before saying, “I talked to Ethan and Jakub about their relationship before Jakub was traded here. Asked them how they made it work.”

When he doesn’t continue, I prompt him with, “And?”

Caulder yawns. “Just what we’re doing,” he says. He smiles, his lips brushing against my neck. “Lots of talking, open communication, sexy time on video.”

I chuckle.

“I asked them how it didn’t become too hard. How did they still love each other? Jakub said he fell in love with Ethan all over again constantly. He said that it started out really difficult, but after the first couple years, it wasn’t awful. But the last year he started in Edmonton was the worst. He said he’d started to resent hockey and he’d already been talking about retiring before he was traded to Buffalo so he could be with his husband.”

“Yeah?” I ask, wondering if I’m ready to retire yet.

Caulder nods. He yawns again and I’m about to tell him to go to sleep. We can finish talking in the morning. But he continues anyway.

“He said he just reached a point where he’d met all his career goals. He still loved hockey, but his love for the game wasn’t what it had been. He was ready to say goodbye to the sport and start his life with his husband. He said it felt like he’d be closing one book and starting a new one and that he was looking forward to it more and more. It was the right decision.”

“He didn’t need to retire when he got here, though,” I say.

Caulder hums. “No. But he’s considering it again. They want a baby and Jakub wants to be home full time for their kid.”

“That’s cool. I’m not sure I’d want to be a stay at home father.”

He shakes his head. A minute later, he picks his head up and looks at me. He’s so tired.

I brush his cheek and he leans his face into my touch. His skin is warm. His smile is soft. “I love you,” he says and my breath catches. “I hope we can figure out how to make long-distance not feel so… painful.”

“It’s more painful now because you need me here and I can’t always be here. Those are the times it’s going to be roughest, I think. I’m sure there will be a time when I need you, and hockey will become an obstacle more than a job. But we were doing really well. I think we’ll figure it out.”

His weight comes down on me again, and he rests his forehead against mine. Another sigh. “My newest fear is that maybe I’m not cut out for long-distance,” he whispers. “I want you. So damn bad, Lo. But what happens when I need you here or you need me there and… we can’t?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, my arm tight around his back with a hand still softly on his cheek, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. “I know you’re wary of promises, but I’m not giving this up for anything. We will figure it out.”

Caulder presses his lips to mine. I can feel his exhaustion. “I want to. I don’t plan to give up easily. I just… I’m afraid of loving you and then the world getting between us.”

“The world meaning hockey?”

“Yes. Hockey.”

“I’m not worried about hockey getting between us. Don’t get me wrong; I want to be here a whole lot more. I hate when a week goes by before I get to hold you. But I know it’s not forever. I know we can sneak a couple days here and there throughout the season. Realistically, until a couple lives together, that’s about how much they see each other, isn’t it?”

Caulder doesn’t answer for a minute. He may have fallen asleep. “Is it?”

I grin. “Yes. I think the idea of so many hundreds of miles between us makes it feel like a bigger mountain than it is. We can do this. As long as we want to. As long as we don’t give up easily when the distance feels too heavy.”

I roll him over and he smiles up at me as I hover over him. I straddle his hips, planting my hands on either side of his face on the bed. “I love you too. I’ve known that for a while now, but you’ve been so emotionally drained by crazy pregnant lady that I didn’t want to add more to you in case you weren’t there yet. But I love you too. I’ve loved you my whole life and every life.”

His smile widens. “We just met, Lo.”

“Maybe we just met in this lifetime, but it’s been so easy between us from the very moment I stepped into that hotel room. You were nervous, but you relaxed as we talked. Our attraction was instant. I’m the very first person you told your secret to because you knew me, even if you didn’t know you did. I think you were mine in every life I’ve lived, Caulder.”

“I told you because you kept trying to pretend you were a girl,” he mutters, but I don’t miss the way his eyes look glassy.

“Our souls recognized each other,” I insist, bringing my body down to his so I can press my mouth to his soft lips. “Everything in me recognizes you.”

Caulder’s arms come around me again and he squeezes me tightly. We roll again so we’re on our sides, tangling our limbs and holding our naked bodies together so fiercely there’s a chance that we’ll fuse into one being.

“I don’t know if I believe in multiple lives, but I love that. I love that you feel that way. True or not, the idea that our souls have been looking for each other across lifetimes.”

“More than that. We’ve lived lifetimes together. You and me. That’s why I’m so confident we’re going to be fine. We’re going to work. I can promise you the world because I’ve already given it to you over and over as we’ve lived a thousand lives. And I’m going to again.”

“How do you know I didn’t give you the world?” he asks.

“You already did when you told me you love me.”

His arms tighten so hard that my ribs ache. We’re silent for so long that I’d think he’d fallen asleep except that his hold on me hasn’t changed. It’s still tight. Still bruising.

“I can’t wait to spend my life with you,” Caulder whispers.

I nuzzle my face into his neck. “We’re already spending our lives together. This is just one adventure. We have many, many more. Every day. Forever.”

“You’re ridiculously sweet. The way you talk to me makes me fucking melt.”

“Good. Now melt asleep, Caulder. You’re exhausted.” 

He laughs quietly.

“Lexa, turn off the light.” I’m surprised when it works. I didn’t realize he had them hooked up to the apps. “Ooh,” I tease, and he laughs for real. 

CHAPTER 31

CAULDER

There’s nothing better than waking up to Lo. The sun is bright through the open curtains, but I still slept through much of the morning. My night table clock says it’s nearly noon. I’m not surprised. It’s been weeks since I’ve slept the entire night. Weeks since I’ve slept more than a handful of hours at a time.

I needed the rest. I feel almost brand new when I open my eyes. I’m a bear finally waking up from a long hibernation.

We’re tangled with the blankets wrapped around us awkwardly, both between us and tangled within our legs. It feels like I’m tied to Lo, which makes me laugh sleepily.

“Did we move around a lot last night?” I ask.

Lo kisses along my jaw softly. “No. We rolled a few times before we fell asleep, though.”

I hum, nuzzling my nose into his soft neck. His fingers reach into my hair, massaging my scalp. He smells so good. So fresh. So much like my Lo, just how I remember him. But better. Also… my body wash?

Pressing my lips to his neck, I roll us so he’s on top of me. Then drag my teeth over his sensitive skin and suck gently on his neck. Lo rolls his hips, rubbing our chubbing cocks together.

And then the doorbell rings…

I freeze, eyes opening. That was my imagination, right?

“Are you expecting company?” Lo asks.

“No,” I say, frowning. “Maybe if they don’t think I’m here, they’ll go away.”

“Mmm,” he answers. “You parked in your driveway last night. Did you walk somewhere?”

I huff. The doorbell rings again.

Sighing, I try to push Lo off me, but we’re still tangled within the blankets. We’re laughing as we try to pull ourselves free. When I finally get my feet on the floor, the doorbell rings for a third time. Hanging my head back, I sigh with exasperation.

Grabbing a pair of shorts so I’m not answering the door naked with morning wood promising to pop up, I march down the hall and throw open my front door. Half my team is standing outside.

Frowning, I ask, “Did we make plans that I forgot about?”

“You’ve been forgetting plans a lot,” Three says, narrowing his eyes.

“Not intentionally. I get calls and more shit is dropped in my lap and… then I just don’t feel like going out,” I admit.

Creed reaches for my arm and squeezes my wrist. “We know. But we’re worried about you.”

“We’re also not convinced you’re eating,” Meddy adds. “So we brought food.” He raises the casserole dish in his hands. Several others around him do the same. “We’re going to eat. Consider this an intervention.”

“That’s unnecessary,” I start, but Ethan is already making his way by me. “I’m going to eat,” I insist, but it’s too late now as my teammates make their way inside.

“Do you always walk around with a flag in your pants?” Asael asks.

I scowl at him. “Yes. I really⁠—”

“Who are you?” I hear Sacha ask from down the hall.

With a heavy sigh, I let my head fall back. Fuck’s sake.

“Lo?” Jakub asks.

“Hey, Bozik.”

Great.

“Come in,” I mutter and shut the door with a snap. I make my way through the big bodies of my teammates until I reach Lo leaning against the wall in the hall. In his underwear. Also tenting. My cheeks heat.

“Would you believe that his car broke down?” I ask.

Snickers fill the room behind me. Lo’s smile widens.

“I’ve been wondering who to text to make sure Caulder’s eating,” Lo comments, his eyes scanning over my teammates. They were my friends once. Now I’m not so sure! Ugh. “Pretty much anyone on the team. Good to know.”

“How long have you been here?” Creed asks, voice still filled with surprise.

“Less than twelve hours. Late flight,” Lo says.

“No, I mean⁠—”

“Couple months,” Lo interrupts. “Since the All-Star Games.”

“It’s only been two months?” I ask, shaking my head. “Jesus.”

“This last month has been hell for you,” Creed says, wrapping his arm around my waist briefly and giving me a one-arm hug. “I bet it’s felt like it’s  never ending.”

I nod, feeling that fatigue creep up again. Lo’s smile has softened now as he looks at me. When he looks at me like that, my heart races. I leave the gaggle of my teammates and join Lo. He wraps his arm around me, pulling me into him. My cheeks heat.

“You, uh… know everyone?” I ask.

Lo shrugs. “More or less.”

“I’ll quiz you later—Jakub, Ethan, Creed, Three, Meddy, Asael, Astor, Phalyn, Lucas, and Sacha. This is Lo, Laurent Duval.”

“Interloper,” Sacha calls out. “Sleeping with enemy!”

Lo laughs.

“You really didn’t need to do this,” I tell them. “Lo being here aside, I am eating.”

“Forgive us, but we don’t believe you,” Meddy says, continuing through my house. I see the light in the kitchen turn on, and my teammates follow him. “To make sure you’re eating, we brought you food and we’re having lunch with you. We made enough for Lo too.”

Lo kisses my temple. “You have some great friends.”

“I would normally agree, but I’m not sure I can right now.” I turn my body into him, pressing my determinedly half hard cock to his thigh.

“Go get some clothes on,” Astor says. “There’s a time for that.”

“You mean when we were in bed before you showed up uninvited at my door?” I ask. “Yes, there was a time for it.”

“There will be time later,” he says, shrugging. “We’re making you plates. Hurry up. No stuffing sausage or anything.”

“I used to like them,” I mutter again and turn down the hall. Lo follows, now wearing his smirk that I’ve come to love so much.

“They’re good people,” Lo says.

I chuck off my shorts as I step into my room, hearing the catcall since I’m still mostly visible from the other room. I flip them off but don’t bother shutting the door. My clothes are in the closet anyway.

Lo joins me, pulling me against him and kissing me softly. “I’m really glad they dropped in on you, Caulder. I’ve been worried about you not eating.”

“You don’t need to be,” I insist but stop trying to pull on my underwear and lean against him. “I admit the first couple weeks were rough, and I probably didn’t eat a lot. But I’m eating closer to normal again.”

“Still. I love that someone is here to take care of you when I can’t be.”

I twist to look at him. Our eyes meet and last night’s conversation floods my mind. “They are. You have friends like that too, right?”

“Yep. Some good friends.”

“Okay good.”

“Stop fucking and get your asses out here!” Three calls.

“Do not think I won’t come in and drag you out,” Sacha adds. “You will eat, Caulder Haines.”

I sigh and step away from Lo. We dress and return to them. Astor hands me a plate right away and Three hands one to Lo. Then we’re crowded around the living room floor. It’s a hodgepodge of different foods that mostly don’t work together, but it’s really good.

“So… you come out and show up with a boyfriend all within a couple of weeks,” Ethan says.

“Yeah, about that. This isn’t something we’re making public,” I explain, glancing at Lo.

“Your boyfriend is still inside closet,” Sacha guesses.

“Yes, but for the same reasons I was. It’s not fear or shame or whatever. It’s attention where it shouldn’t belong.”

“We get it,” Jakub says. “Really. I was there not long ago.”

“Are you going to keep it hidden like Jakub and Ethan did?” Creed asks.

I shrug. “For now, yeah.” This isn’t something we’ve actually talked about. But Lo told me when we met that he hasn’t shared his sexuality with anyone connected to hockey in any way. I understand that to mean he doesn’t want to make it known now, either.

“For now,” Lo repeats and it sounds a lot more temporary than when I said it. “Definitely not the right time to let the world get wind of this and listen to the crazy pregnant lady somehow twist this to be a result of her bullshit too.”

“Saying someone is your boyfriend doesn’t prove you’re gay,” Three mimics.

Astor snorts. “You sound uncannily like her, dude. How many of her videos have you watched?”

“Enough,” Three says. “It drives me crazy that we’re not supposed to comment.”

“Right?!” Ethan agrees.

“I have given to temptation,” Sacha admits. “Once, maybe twice. But I delete comment soon after.”

I lean into Lo’s side as we eat quietly, listening to my teammates bitch about the pregnant lady and then moving on to something else. It’s hockey gossip for a while as they talk about Max having a kid that no one knew about, despite the kid being a year old. How has he kept that from the media?! They talk about Winnipeg’s new owner coming back from his Christmas vacation in the mountains married to a man in January. That was wild to see that spread all over the news.

Sacha announces that he got a star tattoo on his hip to show solidarity to Felton Badcock and he’s offended no one’s noticed yet.

“Why you not look at my crotch area?” Sacha says. “Notice Caulder hard at door but not tattoo on my hip! Russian dick area not as interesting?”

“Do you really?” Creed asks. “And before you get offended, I only look at my husbands’ dicks. No offense.”

“You have pass,” Sacha dismisses Creed as he gets to his feet and shoves his pants down enough to show us his star.

“That’s awesome, man,” Asael says.

“I thought about getting on ass cheek but this how I can be confused for Benny Bop,” he explains, laughing as he takes his seat again.

Lo looks at me, amused. I wonder if this is how his team is.

Before I’m halfway through my plate, my phone rings. Since it’s Rigo, I decide to answer. Lo takes my plate while I stand with my phone in hand and take a few steps away as I answer.

“Caulder,” Rigo greets.

“Hi,” I say. “Please tell me there isn’t something new I need to worry about now.”

He chuckles. “Not at all. I just forwarded you an email. Take a look.”

My stomach flutters with nerves and I’m immediately regretting eating something as I pull my phone down and start clicking around on my screen. His email is the most recent one received and I click on it. There’s an attachment and I open it.

It’s a whole lot of official boxes with letters and values my gaze just scans over since I don’t understand them. My eyes snag on ‘Combined Paternity Index: 0 to 1’ and then ‘Probability of Paternity: 0.0000%.’

It takes longer to comprehend the paragraph in plain English following that I have to read at least half a dozen times before the meaning registers.

The alleged father is excluded from paternity in the following systems: FGA, D8S1179, D21S11, CSF1PO, Penta D, F13B, Penta E, Penta C. These results indicate that CAULDER HAINES is not the biological father of the unborn fetus within the womb of FELICIA BENEDICT.

Chills run along my body. I feel them all the way down to my toes and along my scalp, making my head tingle. I bring the phone back to my ear. “It’s…”

“Negative. There isn’t even a blip of possibility. Whoever the lookalike was, they weren’t related to you at all.”

My eyes close as relief washes through me. “What now?”

“I’m sure Alexandra already has this information as well, so she’ll be in touch with how we’ll proceed. I understand that you just want her to go away, Caulder, but have you thought about a defamation lawsuit?”

I sigh. “What do I have to do? What’s my part?”

“Nothing right now. Alexandra has already been gathering everything she needs as this woman digs herself a very deep hole with evidence all over the internet. I’m curious to know if she really plans to open this document on a live feed. We have someone monitoring her account already, so we’ll know if and when she does.”

“But what do we do with this—the test? Are we going to make a statement or something?” I ask.

“Nope. Unnecessary. As you’ve been saying all along—it’s no one’s business. Besides, she’s going to be making the world aware all on her own.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. Uh… Before we file that thing, can I see it? Before I make a decision?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Fine, okay. Thank you for calling me. I feel like you were just holding my hand as I read those words, Rigo.”

“Hand holding athletes is my official job title,” Rigo deadpans.

I grin. “Yeah, well. Thanks. Really.”

“You’re welcome. Really.”

I hang up and just stand there. Staring at nothing. It’s over. The proof that I didn’t fucking touch her is now tangible. It’s over!

It’s not over, of course. I have no doubt that she’s not going to let it be over. But for me, the world will know the truth. It’s real and I hold it electronically in my hand.

I jump when Lo’s hand lands on my forearm. I’m not sure how I’m looking at him, but there’s concern bright on his face. He wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. Relief makes me sink into him. I feel heavy.

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I hug him, and he holds me securely in his arms. “What happened? What do you need, babe?”

I shake my head, feeling the hysterical laughter bubble inside me. “It’s over,” I whisper. “I have the results. It’s a 0% match. I’m not the father.”

He laughs. “Of course, you’re not.”

“But now she’s going to see that. Everyone will know. The results prove she’s lying. Everyone will see she’s lying, and they’ll leave me alone.”

Lo squeezes me. I’m so fucking glad he’s here. This is good news, but I still need him like it’s bad news.

“Did you say the results came back?” Ethan asks.

I open my eyes and realize I’m still standing in the living room. I hadn’t actually moved far, so half my damn team is looking at me.

Laughter bubbles out this time and I close my eyes, turning my face into Lo’s neck. “Yes,” I say.

“Can I call her hoebag slut now?” Sacha asks. “She bad person.”

“The thing is, she believes what she’s saying,” Meddy says. “I’ve watched her account since the first video went viral. She fully believes what she’s saying. There’s a post from the day after our Philly game and she even tells the ‘story’ of how she hooked up with a hot hockey player from Buffalo.”

“Not me,” Sacha says. “No. I might give dick try. Can’t get dick pregnant.”

Ethan snorts.

“I’m betting even then, she thought it was Caulder when it was just a hookup story,” Meddy says. “I’m not sure she intended to be malicious, even if she turned into a Class A drama queen bitch.”

“You’re going to sue her ass, right?” Three asks.

I sigh, picking up my face and resting my chin on Lo’s shoulder so I can look at my team. “I don’t know. All I’ve wanted since this started was to make it go away.”

“I want you to show her there are consequences in the world when you tell lies,” Lo repeats what he’s told me many times.

“I’m with the interloper,” Asael says. “Even if what Meddy says is true and she didn’t intend to be malicious, the fact that she went about this the way she did definitely needs a lawsuit for damages. Even if they’re just your own mental damages.”

“Yes. You’ve looked like hell this last month,” Three adds. “You were gray for like eight days. I’m pretty confident I could bench you now, bro.”

I roll my eyes, sighing in exasperation. Though, I don’t doubt that he’s telling the truth about any of that. I’ve lost eight pounds and muscle mass sucks to try to get back. I’ve been sick to my stomach, not sleeping, and definitely feeling listless and shitty.

“My lawyer is getting everything together and then we’ll discuss it,” I tell them.

“For now, let’s fatten you up again,” Meddy says. “Eat. Don’t make me call Bianca.”

I laugh, closing my eyes and resting my head against Lo’s. “Love you,” he whispers.

My eyes open and the only one still looking at me is Creed. He smiles, bowing his head, but keeping his eyes on me. Watching me with Lo. Knowing how I feel without me having to say it. 

CHAPTER 32

LO

Caulder’s teammates stayed a while longer, but they left by two. I think now that they know he’s not alone and I won’t be here long, they decided to give us some privacy. Caulder’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking at all the dishes of food they left behind. I’m trying not to smile because he’s feeling annoyed about it, but I love that they did this. I love that they were concerned and invaded his space to make sure he’s taking care of himself.

I’d have loved it more if it was literally any other day because I’m here and I’ll make sure he’s eating today. But I need someone every other day until this woman goes back to the miserable little hole from whence she came.

Honestly, I’m not upset about losing a few hours of alone time to hang out with his friends. Getting to see Caulder with other people he’s comfortable with is something I won’t pass up when given the opportunity. I’m glad to see how comfortable he is with me, which is made more evident when his friends are around because his personality didn’t change. I get the real Caulder.

But what I think I love even more is how Caulder seems pretty quiet with his friends. Based on how they talked and laughed, I would guess this is pretty normal Caulder behavior. When it’s just Caulder and I, we talk constantly. There are barely any quiet moments unless it’s those minutes right before we fall asleep at night.

It makes me feel all dramatically warm and happy inside to know that I get a piece of him that no one else does.

“What am I going to do with all this food?” Caulder asks, sighing.

“Your fridge full?”

He crosses the kitchen to open the fridge. It’s not full, but it’s certainly not empty. “There’s no way I’m even going to eat it all before it goes bad.”

“How about your freezer?”

Caulder closes the fridge and opens the freezer. “Yeah. I guess I can do that.”

“They’re just looking out for you,” I remind him, getting to my feet and joining him in the kitchen.

A smile touches his lips. “I know. I’m going to grumble about it, but it secretly means a lot to me.”

I kiss the side of his head and start arranging dishes. Caulder pokes around his cabinets until he’s assembled enough single-serving sized storage containers to transfer food into. While he handles putting the food away, I begin rinsing off the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

“How does it feel to know you’re not having a kid?” I ask.

Caulder snorts. With a grin, I glance at him. There’s no tension in his shoulders now. His relief is almost visible, almost tangible in the air. We knew without a doubt that her unborn baby didn’t belong to Caulder. But the world turning on him for this bullshit weighed on his shoulders like a boulder.

“I’ve never been so relieved to be a virgin in my life,” Caulder says.

I laugh. Caulder flashes me a teasing smile before concentrating on the food again.

Listening to one side of the conversation when he took Rigo’s call had been unsettling. There was a moment of relief, yes, but it wasn’t long enough to give me any indication about whether the call was good or bad. Especially when he ended the call and just stood there, staring off into space.

I was ready to lose my shit if something else came out of the blue.

Thankfully, he was just overwhelmed with relief. Not in shock about something else.

When we’re finished, Caulder rubs his face and yawns. I fit the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher, then close and start it. Thankfully, it was mostly empty, so all the big pieces fit with some master Tetris skills. I’m even confident they’ll all get clean.

After wiping my hands on a dish towel, I pull him against me. His arms wrap around my back, and he rests his head against mine.

“I hate that I can almost hear the clock ticking down,” he mutters.

“So do I,” I say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But even when it reaches the end, it’ll start counting down the seconds until we’re together again. I think we can squeeze in another couple short visits before the end of the season.”

“I’m going to need to invest in a plane. There’s no cheap option when flying from Buffalo to Phoenix.”

“No, there’s not,” I agree. “We’ll deal with it for the rest of the season and come up with a better plan for next season.” I kiss his cheek again. “I’ll finish in the kitchen. Go take a shower and wake up. We have a day of cuddling on the couch to get through and I’m going to need your full attention.”

Caulder chuckles. “Fine. Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep on you, though. I feel like I’ve been awake for days.”

“That’s fine. Go.”

He leaves the kitchen. I watch him go for a minute before turning to clean the counters and wash the few smaller dishes in the sink. I stall for a while to give him some time. If I join him, I’m going to be groping his fine ass. It’s hard enough keeping my hands off him when we’re together. But a naked, wet Caulder? Yeah…

Eventually, I think enough time’s passed and I follow down the hall. Caulder’s in his closet, wearing just shorts again. They ride low on his hips, which is why I know he’s not wearing anything under them.

Be still my throbbing dick.

He’s got such a nice ass. Round and hard.

Unable to help myself, I step behind him and wrap my arms around his torso. Caulder sighs and immediately leans back into me, letting his head fall back onto my shoulder. “You forget what you were doing in here?” I ask.

He huffs quiet laughter. “I was debating on whether I wanted to put a shirt on.”

“I vote no shirt if you’re cool with that.”

Caulder grins. “Yep. Decision made.” We’re quiet for a minute before he speaks again. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I allow my hand to move over his smooth skin. To re-memorize everything about this man.

“This kind of forced you to come out,” I say.

“Sure.” I shrug. “But I could have stayed in the bedroom or at the very least, come out dressed. I chose not to.”

He’s quiet for a second. “Why?”

I shrug. “Consciously, I didn’t truly think about it and just did. Subconsciously, maybe I wanted them to know you have a boyfriend who is around as often as he can manage. My absence in your life isn’t by choice, but due to obligation.”

“You’re never absent,” he argues. “We’re together all the time. Just not in person.”

I kiss the side of his neck. “I know. And I love how we spend every waking minute that we’re able to together.”

His hands release the shirt he’d been holding and drop to grip my hips, bringing me tighter against him. One of my hands moves up to his chest, tweaking his nipple. He grins. For a minute, I play with his nipple, gently pinching and twisting.

Then I drop my other hand down his stomach, slipping beneath his shorts until I can grip his semi-hard dick. It’s been a long time since we’ve done anything sexual. When we’ve been together over the last month, I spent most of the time just holding him in my arms. His stress had been so high that sex had been the very last thing on either of our minds.

Even over the phone or video, including when we watched each other shower, I could practically feel his anxiety radiating through our digital connection. The only thing Caulder could think about was making it go away. The only thing I could think about was how to make it go away for him.

But now, it’s definitely on the verge of going away. Caulder feels lighter. Even with his weight against me, he feels like a different person. The stress that’s held him down for the past month has lifted now we the truth is going to be out in the world soon.

My hand drops to cup his balls, rolling them gently in my hand. “Hello, lovely boys. Miss me?” I say to his balls. 

“Ohmigod, what’s wrong with you?!” Caulder mutters.

I lick his neck playfully. “I don’t think you give your balls the proper amount of attention. Just making sure they know how much I love them.”

“Jesus,” he hisses, but I roll them in my hand again, giving him a soft squeeze and a gentle tug.

He shivers against me. I can feel his dick hardening and lengthening against the inside of my forearm.

“Want to get back into bed, babe?”

Caulder sighs. “Yeah. It’s been a really long time since we…” he trails off.

“I was just thinking that. But sometimes, there are more important aspects to a relationship that need to be concentrated on.”

He hums and pulls away from me. Caulder shoves his shorts down and steps out of them on his way into the bedroom. I grin after him, losing my clothes in a trail behind him.

I get a spectacular view of his ass as he climbs on the bed. Before he can lay down, I stop him and spread his cheeks for me.

“I’m super clean,” he murmurs.

“Ready for my mouth at your hole, babe?” I ask, dragging my finger through his crack and over his puckered hole. His muscles clench reflexively.

“Yes.”

“Where’s your lube?”

Caulder pulls out of my grasp and reaches into his nightstand drawer. He tosses it on the bed and backs that sexy ass up so he’s right in front of me again. I settle between his legs and give his sexy ass a gentle bite.

He grunts. His entire body shifts as he adjusts his weight onto one hand so he can rub his cock with the other. I have half a mind to swat his hand away, but I’ll let him play for a minute. But that thing is going in my mouth before long.

I lick along his crack again, tasting primarily soap. When I concentrate on his hole, Caulder’s low groan fills the room. It fills my head, sending sweet tendrils of arousal down my spine. I lick his hole like a dog trying to get the last little bits of peanut butter from the bottom of the jar. Constantly placing pressure on his tight ring of muscle until it gives way, and I can poke my tongue into him.

“Lo,” Caulder groans.

Reaching under him, I pull his hand away from his dick and take over. Stroking him slowly. Rubbing my thumb over his slit. So good. Sexy. The quiet little sounds he makes as I push his cheek aside and drive in deeper, pistoning my tongue into his hole and listening to him moan.

I pull my face away and urge him onto his side. Dropping my mouth to his cock, I press a finger into his hole, using my spit dripping from him to allow me to glide inside.

His hands drop to my head, gripping my hair in fists. I love how hard this man is for me. Always so hard.

Before I push in a second finger, I fumble blindly for the lube, not wanting to take my mouth off his cock. I bring him deeper, listening to his sounds of pleasure. Feeling the way his hips roll.

When I push a second finger to his hole, Caulder says, “Wait,” and pushes me off him. I pick my head up, letting his cock fall from my mouth with an audible pop. “I want sex.”

Grinning, I say, “That’s what we’re doing. I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I’m definitely doing that.”

He laughs breathlessly. “No, I mean… I’m ready. But… I think I want to top first. If that’s okay. If you want to.”

My heart stills at his words. Oh. OH! I lick my lips, nodding. “Yes, definitely.” I move up his body until I can kiss him. Caulder groans. I swear his entire body comes to life as he rolls against me.

“Condom?” I ask.

He nods, eyes darting up to the night stand. “Yeah. It’s a new box.”

“Because you recently ran out?” I tease as I crawl over him to stretch for the drawer.

I can practically hear his eyes roll. “No. Because… I kind of thought… I’d want to do this at some point. With you.”

Finding the box, I hurry to bring it back with me, leaving the drawer open, so I can seal my mouth over his to quiet his shyness. His cheeks are burning.

“I love you,” I tell him, keeping my mouth against his. “But so you know, I have some with me too. Just in case.”

“You always brought some?” he asks.

I nod, biting his bottom lip gently. “Yep. I’m a safe fucker.”

Caulder rolls his eyes.

“I enjoyed hooking up,” I tell him as I open the box of condoms, keeping my mouth against him. “I wasn’t living my best whoring life because I’m far too cautious for that, but I’m definitely always on the safe side and bring my own protection.”

“I see,” he says.

With a condom freed, I set it on his chest and reach for the lube. I’ve played with Caulder’s hole many times now, but I’ve always taken him as being too shy to touch me. Even though he has no problem gripping my ass. He likes my ass.

His hand closes around my wrist. “Can I?”

Grinning, I nod and move from between his legs until I’m straddling his stomach so he can reach around me. I guide his fingers to me and then let him explore. Which is truly what he’s doing as opposed to stretching me for him. His gaze doesn’t leave mine and I swear, there’s wonder in his expression.

I stop him when he gets to pushing a third finger in and move his hand away. “I like the burn, babe. I want to feel your dick as it makes room inside me.”

A shudder races through his body as I scoot back again and roll the condom onto his cock. I lube him and then meet his eyes. “How do you want me?”

The heat in his eyes bleeds into his face. I can feel his desire as he sits up, mouth meeting mine in a rushed kiss.

“I want to be vanilla this time,” he says as he pushes me backward and crawls on top of me. “So I can kiss you and see your face.”

I nod as he moves over me. His blue eyes stare into mine intently as he lines up his cock with my entrance. I feel the blunt, slick crown press against my hole and my breath catches. My fingers glide along his ribs.

Caulder swallows, takes his lower lip between his teeth, and pushes his body forward. I relax beneath him, letting my muscles slacken while I bear down so he can push inside. His cockhead enters and he pauses.

“Okay?”

I grin, nodding. “Yes.”

He nods in response and slowly pushes deeper inside me. The burn of his dick starts almost right away and I groan beneath him, my eyes rolling.

“Fuck,” Caulder murmurs. “Jesus, Lo. I think you’re going to strangle me through my cock.”

I chuckle, but it’s interrupted by another low moan. Caulder doesn’t need more encouragement as he presses further inside me. He’s panting by the time he reaches his balls. So am I.

“You… okay…?” he asks again.

Pulling him down, I seal our mouths together. “Perfect,” I groan. “You’re perfect, Caulder.”

He groans, his hips rocking all on their own.

“Take me how you want to,” I tell him. “I like it all the ways.”

A shiver races over his body. I can feel the gooseflesh it leaves behind under my fingers.

His body comes down over me, pressing his weight on me, his arms wrap around me and tangle in my hair from under my head. His grip pulls my head back, exposing my neck to him. But he’s moving now. Moving those glorious hips and invading my ass over and over.

My hands run over his skin, now slick with sweat, as he takes me. I swear, it’s like he’s been doing this for ages. The way he makes me feel every solid inch of him. The way each deep thrust punches a groan out of me. The way his teeth skim my neck, leaving tantalizing chills in their wake.

Caulder kisses me periodically, his mouth demanding attention from mine. The only three things I can think are how good this feels, how much I love this man, and a deep sense of familiarity. Like we’ve done this a thousand times. His body knows mine, knows just what I like and how to make me feel good. It’s an echo from a past long gone, but falling around us again like we’re finally coming home.

“You’re still so tight,” Caulder grunts. “God, I’m going to come.”

I grin and clench around him. The choked sound he makes along with his sudden jerking hips has me laughing.

“You’re trying to end me,” he complains.

“That’s okay,” I respond, biting his ear. “You can come. And we’ll start again when your dick is ready for round two.”

His hands tighten in my hair, craning my head back further as he pushes into me harder. Faster. I’m not sure he’s consciously chasing his orgasm, but my permission for him to finish touched something in him. He drives further, his moans filling my head.

I hold onto him, dropping my hands to reach his ass, urging him on. Urging him to come inside me. “Fill me, Caulder,” I encourage, lips at his ear. “Give me your orgasm.”

The grip on my head is almost painful. I can feel it all the way down my spine. Somehow, it grips my balls too and makes my cock leak. Caulder comes, panting, and his teeth sink into my neck for a brief moment.

Then he stills, his body dropping limply onto mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, locking my ankles.

“I’ll get better,” he promises.

I grin. “What makes you think I have any complaints?”

“You didn’t get off,” he says.

Sighing, I shake my head. “I didn’t want to get off yet. Not because you lack anything, Caulder.”

“You have that much control?”

“Kinda. It’s all about the angle and I made sure I was angled so you couldn’t hit the way that drives me to orgasm. I want to enjoy you. To feel you. To memorize your first time.”

“You’re sweetly corny,” he mutters.

I laugh. “Trust me, babe. I won’t be able to do that often. You’re naturally fucking epic.”

He snorts.

We’re quiet for a minute, our heavy breaths the only sounds in the room.

“Love you,” Caulder whispers. “I need like five more minutes. Then we can do that again.”

Grinning, I nip at his ear. “Love you too. And you can take me as often as you want.”

“You may regret saying that.”

I won’t.

CHAPTER 33

CAULDER

We’re playing New York Lights. Thankfully. I enjoy playing this team much more than the Gulls. They’re not nearly as aggressive and, well, assholes. I don’t hate aggressive teams, but there’s something toxically aggressive about the Gulls’ plays and their overall demeanor on and off the ice.

I’m sitting on the bench when there’s eight minutes left in the second period, and we’re tied, 1-1. I scowl when New York’s Franz Bauer steals the puck from Ethan and heads down to our defensive zone. Thankfully, Astor is already hovering around Phalyn in the net. Ready.

He shoots it through Three’s legs as he comes up between him and Owen Vincent. And this motherfucker bats the puck out of the air, and it just barely sails over Phalyn’s shoulder and lands in the net.

“What the fuck was that?” Meddy asks, laughing.

“Wrong sport, Vinny!” Lucas calls.

Owen looks in our direction and winks, a big grin on his face.

Yes, the goal sucks, but I think we actually like the Lights, so there’s definitely more teasing banter than there is anything with heat behind it. That’s not to say that fights don’t break out. In the next puck drop, Sacha and Pen Dickson end up in a scuffle that results in Sacha taking a two-minute penalty.

I groan as I trade places with Astor. My blades touch the ice and I join the play, chasing it toward the offensive zone. I’m pretty sure I’m playing defense tonight. Considering Astor is defense, I remember that’s my job tonight but when the puck is passed to me, I obviously take possession.

We play a game of back and forth until I get the puck again and send it through Linden Rhodes’ legs where Ethan is waiting. His stick is already back, ready to take the shot. It sinks in the lower left corner and the horn blares to life, signaling our score.

“Fuck’s sake,” Linden cheers, slapping me on the shoulder on the way by.

“Keep your legs closed, Rhodes,” Ethan teases, hitting his stick to Linden’s.

Linden laughs. “There’s no fun in that.”

We end the second period tied 2-2. I’m not unhappy about that outcome as we head for the locker room. I need a drink.

Maybe it’s wrong of me, but I don’t look at the fans anymore. I don’t stop for pictures or autographs. I remember all too clearly how readily they turned on me. How easily they blindly supported some chick insisting that I was a deadbeat who refused to take responsibility for something that I didn’t do.

I keep my attention straight ahead, even when a teammate pauses. Regardless of whether or not I hear my name.

Lo told me the other day that people have noticed this change in me. Ironically, he told me an hour before the PR asshole, Robert, stopped me in the hall on my way to practice and asked me if I realized I was doing this.

“Yes,” was my answer.

He looked at me shocked. “Why?”

I shrugged and didn’t bother responding. I’m not about fair-weather people. I get it; without the fans, we wouldn’t be playing. Be that as it may, I’m entirely put off by them and how disgusting it felt.

Lo and I have discussed it several times and I understand I shouldn’t let it bother me. Honestly, I don’t let it bother me. I rarely think about it. But I sure as fuck won’t be thankful for their attention only now I’ve proven myself to be honest.

You can’t expect us to believe you over someone claiming you got her pregnant.

Because women can’t lie, apparently. I get it. I truly do. I’ve seen some ugly shit and I know women live in a man’s world where they’re often mistreated and misused by men. But that doesn’t mean that women can’t lie.

I even understand what Meddy was explaining the other day at my house. She truly believed what she was saying. I haven’t watched the videos. Besides the handful I saw in Coach’s office, I haven’t seen another, and I have no interest in changing that. The fact of the matter is, when I said it wasn’t me, instead of backing off and handling it privately, she turned into an entitled drama queen.

Alexandra sends me updates often on the defamation case—yes, I agreed because my friends are right. There needs to be consequences in the real world. You want to be a shitty person and insist on proving an innocent person guilty, you should face consequences.

I said it wasn’t me. I told my truth. My friends solidified my alibi that I don’t go out and I didn’t go out with them that night. Still, she insisted on pursuing it. Even after the test results, which, according to Alexandra’s reports, she’s insisting are false.

That was probably the tipping point that made me decide to pursue the case when I wouldn’t necessarily otherwise. I want her to go away. But she’s still refusing to.

I still hear the random comment as I head into the chute about it. Like now, as I refuse to sign something for a fan, she calls, “You can get me pregnant, Caulder! I won’t post about it online.”

“That disgusting and inappropriate,” Sacha tells her. “Go. You not getting autographs from Skidmoss.”

A smile touches my lips as I duck my head and keep walking. As soon as we’re in the locker room and everyone’s gathered, Sacha says, “Fan in orange hat, red plaid shirt, female, wearing garish red lipstick—we won’t sign shit for her. She’s gross to Caulder.”

It’s not the first time an announcement like this has been made. We now have a Karen board that we carry around, snapping pictures of the assholes who come to the game and say something disgusting like that. They’re on a fan ban list.

I drop to the bench and tip my head back to spray water in my mouth from the water bottle beside me. Hydration is key to life.

“I really want to win this,” Astor grumbles. “We’re not playing baseball. There’s no batting of pucks in this game.”

Meddy laughs. “Just appreciate it for the beauty, Astor. It was a fun shot.”

Astor huffs.

Creed sits beside me, flashing me a smile. “That was a sweet assist.”

“Linden’s always fun to get one up on.”

He laughs. “He’s a good egg. I always enjoy talking to him at events.”

Coach comes in a few minutes before the next period for a pep talk. We’re playing a good game but so is New York. We need to play a better game.

I enjoy playing at home; though in New York, there’s always a good mix at all arenas of fans from both teams when any two of the three New York teams play each other. Since we’re home today, more than half of the seats are a bright mix of yellow and grass green. The rest are black and honey bee yellow.

I’m on the ice for the puck drop and we spend the first seven minutes chasing the puck from one end to the other. I collide with Menlo Dexter, slamming my body into his against the boards with a bam. The puck remains lodged between us as he tries to keep it in possession. I’m not sure whose stick slips in and scoops it away, but we break apart when the puck disappears.

Creed has the puck and is flying down to the other side. As I watch him, I absently muse that maybe he should have been in the All-Star Games, not just a member of the audience. That man is fucking fast. I follow at a distance, keeping toward the back of the New York ice to attempt to keep the puck down this end.

It feels almost like I predicted it coming my way because Creed loses the puck as it’s slid along the wall behind the goalie and toward me. I retrieve it, as five big guys skate toward me, and send it back to Creed who’s positioned slightly behind me on our end.

As soon as we’re down in New York’s defensive zone, the puck gets picked away by Pen and tossed toward the wall. Creed retrieves it, but Pen and Linden are right on him, boxing him in against the boards.

Somehow, Creed shoots the puck away into empty ice. But then Jakub is right there where no one had been and shoots the puck. Their goalie blocks it, the puck bouncing off his stick. But Jakub is still in the zone and he makes the rebound, hitting it in mid-air back to the net, and this time, it gets by Daryn Sweetwater for the goal.

Creed laughs, sliding into Jakub’s side for a brief hug before they break away. The rest of the team surrounds Jakub after, hugging him and tapping his helmet. Congratulating him.

This is the last goal of the game, and we win 3-2.

It doesn’t always happen with every team, but Buffalo and New York meet on the ice to exchange parting salutations of ‘good game’ and other shit. It’s proof that our teams get along when there’s a lot of smiles and teasing as we move down the line.

I head for the chute with half the team in front of me, once again, needing more water. I should have drunk more during the game, probably, but it’s kind of a pain in the ass distraction when I suddenly have to piss.

There’s a roadblock within the chute and I stop before I run into Three. My attention is focused ahead, as usual. Some of my teammates take this opportunity to sign things since we’re stopped. I hear my name again, but I ignore it, choosing to concentrate on catching my breath.

Something moving down the wall on my right makes me turn my head and I’m facing a stuffed bear. It’s probably three feet tall, fluffy gray. It has a #13 Skidmoss jersey on—my number—and a hockey helmet painted in pride rainbow colors. Between its paws is a banner that reads, “YOUR FANS SHOULD HAVE SUPPORTED YOU.”

My shoulders fall as I look up. There’s a young teenage girl there, also wearing my jersey. She gives me a smile. For some reason, I believe the sincerity in it. “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice barely reaching me above the crowd. “You deserve better from your fans.”

Tears sting my eyes. I’m afraid if I smile, I may cry. So I just nod and reach for the bear. She releases the cord she has it dangling on. I hug it to my chest and close my eyes for a minute. When I open them, she’s giving me a teary smile in return. I reach up and hand her my stick.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t need anything in return,” she says, shaking her head.

“Take it,” I insist. “We all deserve fans like you.”

She does, giving me a big smile. “Thank you!”

I nod, keeping the bear to my chest as I head down the chute. It cleared up while I was staring at the bear. I set it on top of my cubby and try to ignore it while I wrestle my way out of my pads and move toward the showers to wash the sweat and stink off me. While I do scrub, I almost never feel quite clean and end up taking a second shower when I get home. Not all the time, but often.

I’m not in a hurry to get home tonight, though. Arizona has a game tonight too, so I know he’s not waiting for my call. When I’m dressed, I grab my new bear and hug him to my chest on the way out. It’s a surprisingly touching gift that I didn’t expect to appreciate quite as much as I do. But I keep it securely in my arms as I head for my car and amuse myself by buckling it in on the ride home.

I should name it. Obviously, Haines. It’s printed on the back of its jersey.

The silence of my car is a welcomed transition time between work and home. I appreciate the short commute. Not too long to get irritating, but not so short that I feel like I have no time to get into or out of work mode.

My house is dark when I pull up, which is to be expected. It’s almost too quiet now. Too empty. I’m far more aware of the silence and solitude in the days following Lo being here, though it’s been almost a week. We have plans that I’ll be flying to him tomorrow after my practice and he’ll be arriving in Chicago sometime around noon. We’ll spend twenty-four hours together, but that time will be interrupted by his game.

We debated whether I should attend the game. It’s not often I get to actually attend a game. But in the end, I decided that I don’t want to attract attention or be recognized. And as paranoid as it may sound, I also don’t want anyone to have any reason to think they can claim we hooked up in the arena bathroom.

Yep, that’s the reality of my current situation. I feel like I need to wear a camera all the time now, just to document who I’m around and when.

As I toss the bear on my bed, I see that there’s something on the back of the banner. Flipping it over, it reads “JUST SO YOU KNOW, THERE ARE FANS WHO NEVER STOPPED SUPPORTING YOU. I NEVER DOUBTED YOU.”

Now that I’m home, I let out the emotions this damned stuffed bear and the young girl who gave it to me stirred in me. A few hot tears trail down my face. I let them before taking a deep cleansing breath and wiping them away.

Maybe I’m more hurt by the outside world than I’m allowing myself to admit. My reaction to this kind gesture says as much. In a way, I did to them what I’ve been angry about them doing to me. We’re both wrong.

But how do you tell who’s a good person and who just wants a piece of you when you’re on the top? When you’ve had to jump through hoops that shouldn’t have existed to begin with to prove you’re not the shitbag that you’re accused of being? How do you look into the face of a stranger and determine which one of those people you’re looking at?

Taking a breath, I turn away from the bear and head into my closet to get out of my suit. It’s nearing eleven, but it’s three hours earlier in Arizona. Lo’s only an hour into his game. Probably just finishing up the second period.

I take a second shower as I often do and then fall into bed. My tablet is plugged in, propped against my nightstand where it always is. Bringing the bear next to me, I snap a selfie and send it to Lo, though I know he won’t get it for a while. Then I settle in, turn on the Arizona-San Jose game via the app on my tablet, and settle in to wait for my boyfriend to call me. 

CHAPTER 34

LO

Pregnant lady erased her live reaction to reading the paternity test. Unfortunately for her, there were many—many—who recorded, and those posts have gone viral many times over. Honestly, I’ve watched it several times. Her arrogance. The way she taunted Caulder that now he wouldn’t be able to deny her, and he’d have to be a father to her baby.

Imagine her shock and horror. Just picture it. As she reads it. “What is this shit? How did you manage to tamper with the DNA test? That’s bullshit and you know it!”

She doesn’t actually show the test online. She fumes for a solid three minutes before ending the video. It disappeared from her profile, only to reappear when she’s tagged no less than two dozen times as others repost her recorded live with captions like, “If you’re going to tell the story, keep the truth posted too.” And, “What, you don’t want proof of your lies?” My favorite by far is “Caulder Haines is far too gay for you, girl.”

I may have laughed at that one. I even liked the post. Whatever. I’m sure my like is lost somewhere in their notifications.

This chick remained silent for days. Days! I thought she’d finally gone away and given Caulder the peace he craved and deserved. Nope. As soon as she was served with court papers notifying her of being sued for defamation and other stuff I only slightly understood—lawyers have their own damn language—she was back and ranting again.

“You can’t fudge a DNA test and then sue me for speaking up. This is shit and you know it. Just another man refusing to take responsibility for their actions. I will win this, you know. I have the fucking baby proof.”

My irritation for her may have spiked again. She should have just stayed away. Now she’s just adding more to the case against her. Maybe she doesn’t have a lawyer yet.

However, Caulder is mostly oblivious to her ranting online. The truth is out in the world and that’s all he cared about. As far as he’s concerned, she’s no longer an issue.

He’s right. She’s not. The paternity test has made her bed for her. It relieved him of any presumed guilt and freed him of her claims entirely. Even if she refuses to believe the test results, it’s not even like the test results had even the slightest percentage of probability where she could claim it possible. It was a 0% likelihood. Zero!

Caulder is back to who he was a month ago before she showed up online with her bullshit claims. What I appreciate about this whole thing is that, in a very public forum, it shows not all men are guilty because a woman accuses them of something. Women can also be an abuser. Just as was proven in the famous case against the legendary pirate actor and his estranged wife.

What I don’t appreciate is the way the entire justice system is a lie. We like to pretend everyone is innocent until proven guilty, but in reality, everyone is treated as guilty until they’re proven innocent. And that’s the bandwagon everyone jumps on. No one will look at the accused and ask them their story. No one listens to the accused when they tell their truth. It’s only upon absolute certainty that science provides when finally, the veil of guilt is lifted, and the truth of innocence is finally believed.

I’d like to say something about this has given me some faith in humanity, but I’m not sure there’s a positive outlook on this.

“Ready, Lo?” Keno calls.

One of our favorite things to do is mess around on the ice. Most of the time, we’re just playing. Sometimes we play two on two with Horny in goal, and we trade off who’s attempting the goal.

Right now, we’re still messing with some of the All-Star Games challenges. Admittedly, it’s been more difficult than I thought it would be to figure out how to get goalies involved more. By the time I’m on my back, laughing because I fuckling slipped, we decide it’s time for a break. Once more, the five of us are sitting with our legs spread, blades touching, and slinging a puck between us as we sip on our water.

The season is almost over. We have a game in two days and that’s the last. Then I have a couple meetings here with my agents, and once all those stupid obligations are over, I’m heading to Buffalo to pick up my boyfriend and we’re going. Just going. I don’t even care where.

I mean, while that’s true, we do have bookings. Our first stop is Greenland where we’ll enjoy remote hot springs and breathtaking views. It’s not off the grid or completely without other people, so there’s definitely a chance we’ll be recognized but it’s also not crowded like Hawaii or the Keys.

The puck hits my thigh and I blink back into the moment. Four amused faces look at me. “Sorry,” I say and fling the puck to Horny.

“Who’s on your mind, Lo?” Etna asks.

“What makes you think there’s a person involved?” I retort. Although this is a perfect opening for telling them about Caulder. Which I have been planning to do for the last couple days. I didn’t realize how big it felt to me until the moment arrived. I became tongue-tied and haven’t been able to say the words out loud.

I’m nervous. I hadn’t anticipated being nervous.

“What else could possibly keep you so distracted than someone?” Etna counters.

Is it intentional that he’s being gender neutral right now? I lick my lips, stopping the puck when Keno passes it back to me. I don’t toss it out again. Taking a breath, I blurt out, “Fine. You’re right. I’m thinking about my boyfriend.”

Silence.

Then Hilt hits Horny with a big grin. “Told you.”

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“I knew you had something going on with Caulder Haines,” Hilt says.

The surprise that fills me has me rocking backwards. “What makes you think⁠—”

Hilt rolls his eyes. “The way you got so fucking defensive any time we bring up the thing going on with Caulder was telling enough. You might have thought you could play it up as you’re now friends from the Great Bed Fuckery of 2022, but I’ve known you for a long time, Lo. You are protective of your friends, but not in the same way you are over Caulder.”

I consider his words for a minute as I stare at him. “You knew I’m gay?”

“No. You just said that part.”

I huff.

“We didn’t suspect you were gay at all,” Keno admits, laughing. “Actually, we didn’t believe Hilt when he confided that he thought you were hooking up with Caulder.”

“Uh huh.” I look between them, gauging how they’re taking the admission that I’m gay. Mostly, they look amused.

“Fine then. I’m gay. Have been my whole life. And yes, I’m seeing Caulder, although I had no idea that externally I reacted so strongly regarding him when you brought him up. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s sweet,” Hilt says, batting his eyes.

I toss the puck at him.

“Since the All-Star Games?” Etna asks as we resume our game of pass while we talk.

I nod. “Yes, though it wasn’t serious then. Just… mutual secret hooking up. It was a relief to be able to confide in someone who related completely. I think we realized it was more serious right before crazy pregnant lady went viral.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Keno asks, frowning.

“Because I made it a habit of not talking about my sex life, so my sexuality wouldn’t be a factor in anything. As did Caulder.”

“I mean, why didn’t you tell us you’re gay?”

“Same thing, but without the Caulder part. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to constantly have your sexuality attached to you like a salutation? It’s a non-factor, but the world is intent on making it a focal point. I don’t want a career as a gay hockey player. The fewer people who knew, the easier it was to keep it that way.”

“I’ve never thought about that,” Etna concedes.

“You wouldn’t,” Hilt says. “Because it’s not something you face as a straight man.”

“Just as it’s not something you face as a white man,” Keno counters. “I get what Lo’s saying. I’m a minority, so my nationality is constantly attached to me. It’s always commented on in a way a white person’s isn’t. Even though it’s not necessarily a bad thing because visibility is good for all minorities, so they see that we’re here and have a place in sports too. But sometimes, I just want to be a hockey player.”

“And yet, there isn’t a persons of color group calling attention to it like the Gays Can Play,” I comment.

He snorts. “Nope.”

“Well, shit,” Etna mutters.

“Anyway, didn’t mean for this to go down that road,” I say. “But yeah, that’s why I didn’t tell you. It’s not a trust thing. I wanted to keep it from public knowledge as long as I could so any attention on me was for my game. Not my nationality. Not my sexuality. Nothing but my game.”

“Why’d you change your mind?” Hilt asks.

“Because there’s a very good chance we’ll end up on the cover of some trashy tabloid this summer since we’re planning to spend most if not all summer together. We don’t plan to hit the mall holding hands or anything, but we also won’t be hiding, either. Carefully selected adventures where it’s unlikely we’ll be recognized, but it’s not impossible. And… you’re my friends so I wanted you to know from me as opposed to the internet.”

“Thanks, man. That’s cool,” Keno says.

“We support you,” Etna adds.

“I also support you and your straight boy sexuality,” I deadpan, raising a brow.

He laughs. “Yep, I can see how that might get annoying. Sorry. I just meant…” he trails off. “Yeah, okay.”

I smirk. “I appreciate your support. I appreciate that you don’t think differently of me. But I’d rather us just be normal. How we always are. Okay?”

Etna sighs. “Yep. Got it.”

“Good. Want to play some more or are we done here?”

We play for a while longer but eventually, we head in, making guesses on the playoffs. We’re so close to the end of the season with each team only having a game or two left, so the playoffs are already practically decided.

I head for home, calling Caulder on the way.

“Hey, babe,” I greet.

His smile is evident. “Hey. You home yet? I think I hear road noise, so not quite.”

“Correct. Ten minutes. Why?”

“Just checking. How was practice?”

“Good. Messed around on the ice with the guys.” I pause. “I told them about us.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

“And they were cool?”

“It seems Hilt suspected a while ago. I guess I got defensive concerning you whenever someone brought up the pregnant girl thing.”

Caulder laughs. “Did you? Jeez. How were you not outed eons ago?”

I huff. “I’ve never loved someone before,” I say defensively. “But to be fair, I thought I had kept most of those feelings to myself.”

“Your poker face isn’t as good as you thought, huh?”

“Apparently not. But they were cool about it.”

He sighs. “Good. I hate that we live in a world where there’s a fear your friends won’t be accepting of the gender in your bed.”

“Mmm,” I agree. The world isn’t accepting of a lot of things.

I pull into my driveway while Caulder’s telling me about Creed and his husbands discussing having a kid. I guess they were talking about it at lunch today. His story stops when he hears my door shut.

“You’re home?”

“I’m home,” I confirm. “But you can keep telling me about the Boziks having babies.”

“No. Hurry up and call me on video.” Then he hangs up.

I chuckle as I drop my bags and head for my room to get my tablet. He answers right away and my breath catches. This man is fucking naked. Hard. His dick is in his hand as he gently strokes it smack in the middle of the screen.

“Are you really telling me about Creed having kids?” I ask, unable to look away.

Caulder laughs. “Yep. Distraction tool for the win. Though he’s cute so it’s not that big of a distraction.”

My eyes flicker to his and he’s grinning. It’s then that I realize he’s not in bed. He’s on his knees on the floor. In the bathroom?

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Get undressed,” he commands. “And hurry up, Lo. I’m so fucking horny.” His voice is whiny, but jeez do I shiver at his words.

I fumble as I strip my clothes off. His laughter doesn’t dissuade my cock from showing its appreciation of the sight we were greeted with.

“So, I have a secret,” Caulder admits as soon as I’m sitting at the edge of my bed, butt naked.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve uh… been trying something.”

I have no idea where this is going, but the way heat floods my body has my cock throbbing. “What?”

He licks his lips; he’s nervous. But when he shifts, pulling his up cock and balls so I can see under him, my gaze is locked on where the dildo I sent him weeks ago is partially lodged in his tight hole.

“Oh, fuck,” I groan, squeezing the base of my cock. I shudder at the sight.

“Can you see?” Caulder asks.

“See? I can’t look away.”

He laughs, but I can hear his nerves. “But I mean… the angle?”

Taking a breath to calm my racing heart, I say, “Set it on the floor, propped at a slight angle. Yep, like that. Little less angled. Perfect. Now I can see your hole stretched and those sexy boys hanging down.”

“Ugh,” he grunts, gripping his balls in his hand and raising them. “Why do you have to be weird?”

I laugh as I watch, transfixed, while Caulder arranges himself so he’s leaning back against the wall and slowly, so fucking slowly, pulls himself up so the head of the dildo is only barely in his hole. Then he slides down. Down, down, down.

“Holy fuck,” I mutter. He doesn’t quite bottom out, but he’s so fucking close. “So hot, Caulder. God, I bet you’re tight.”

“I’m not sure how to relax yet,” he admits, and I can hear the slight strain in his voice. “Everything I read says I need to relax, but how do you do that and still use your muscles to move at the same time?”

“Slightly different muscles. It takes some practice to differentiate between them. Does it feel good?”

Caulder doesn’t answer right away and I watch as he rises again and slowly descends. Fuck, I may come for us both.

“It’s not as horrible as it was initially. The first few times, I definitely didn’t like it.”

My gaze finally moves to his face. “Why did you keep trying?”

I’m not entirely sure whether he’s blushing or if his skin is just red from the silicone cock shoved in his ass.

“Because I want to do this with you, but… I was worried I’m not going to like it, so I thought I’d… try it until I enjoy it?”

“You have no idea how much I love you,” I say, and fuck if I don’t wish I could make him understand. He smiles. “You do whatever you’re comfortable with, but two things, babe. One, no matter where we are in our relationship or how long we’ve been together, you can always tell me to stop if you don’t like something. I need you to understand that. And two, you enjoy when I finger you. I’m quite confident you’ll enjoy it when I fuck you too. Having a man behind the dick easing you into it after prepping you fully is a very different experience than doing it yourself. Not always better. I’m not romanticizing this. But I’m very sure that it’ll be better for you.”

Caulder sighs. “I love you too,” he answers. “And I know. I get in my head sometimes and can’t get away from the thoughts. But we can talk about that when I don’t have this thing in my ass. I’m going to need to see you ride yours because that’s the hottest thing ever and I really need to get off.”

I shiver in excitement and practically fall on my way to the bathroom. Maybe I can convince him to fuck around online with me for the rest of the day. I fully intend to try. But first, I need to see this man come on his dildo. 

CHAPTER 35

CAULDER

I’m halfheartedly watching the playoffs while folding towels. Both of the second games in the first round are on—Colorado Thorns vs. Nashville Stingers and Calgary Chickadees vs. Edmonton Razors. No teams have scored halfway through the first period. Sports Spot keeps switching between the two games, which I appreciate so I can watch both without having to actually watch either.

Honestly, I’m just trying to distract myself until Lo gets here. I feel like he’s always coming here, and I hardly ever get to go to him. But he’s not wrong. We’re flying out of Boston because that makes more sense to get to Greenland than me flying to Arizona only for us to turn around again and fly east.

My gaze keeps dropping to my phone, both watching the time and waiting for him to text me that he’s landed. Who knew I was such an impatient person? It hasn’t even been long since we were together. Too long, yes, but not aggressively so.

I’m distracted when the Razors score. There isn’t anyone I truly care about on the Razors that has me rooting for them. They’re a good team, but I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t make it to the next round. I’m hoping for Vegas and Calgary heading off from the central division. Furthermore, I want Vegas to win. I wouldn’t be upset if Vegas makes it to the Cup, but I’m hoping Carolina wins. I’d love to see Adak Nemazcekk bring home the cup.

Though Toby Eads is predicting Carolina won’t make it to the playoffs. He thinks they’re going to get close, but Florida will win out on the seventh game. However, as of right now in the bracket, he thinks Vegas is the team to beat from the Western Conference. If Toby says it’s so, then it must be. Although he’s been known to change his predictions at the end of the first round. Nine out of ten times, this man is right. It blows my mind. I secretly think he sees into the future or something.

I’m engrossed in the commentary and replay of the Razors’ goal, so I don’t hear my front door when it opens, or when Lo comes inside. It isn’t until I have the weird feeling of being watched that I shift to look behind me and find my boyfriend standing in the entry hall with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, watching me with his sexy smirk.

Grinning, I get to my feet. Jumping over the back of the couch, I wrap my arms around him and pull my legs up and around his waist. There’s nothing better than having a big muscly guy be able to hold me as if I don’t weigh a buck eighty. His hand not holding flowers comes under my ass and the one with the flowers wraps around my back.

I sigh, taking a deep breath to inhale his Laurent Duval scent.

“You were supposed to text me so I could pick you up,” I admonish.

“Yes, I know. But I like this greeting better.”

He crosses into the living room, and we drop onto the couch. My towels end up falling over and I’m going to have to wash them again, though I couldn’t care less right now. The bouquet of flowers lands on my face and I laugh.

They smell amazingly floral.

“Love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you more,” I say.

We lay in silence for several minutes. The background of the playoffs breaks when both games go to intermission. I’m barely hearing it now. The only thing I care about is the feeling of my boyfriend in my arms. Wrapped around me.

That is, until Reese Davie’s voice cuts the serene quiet with, “Just in. Arizona announces an early trade. Laurent Duval has been traded to the Toronto Red Foxes for Morgan Rivera.”

My breath catches. Chills break out over my body.

“We managed to get a brief word with Duval just five minutes ago to see how he feels about the trade. He had this to say:”

“I’m ecstatic. Toronto is an amazing team. Even better, that’s just under two hours from my boyfriend.”

My heart stops completely. “Lo!”

He chuckles, arms tightening around me. “Mmm?”

“You knew they were going to broadcast that!”

“I did,” he agrees.

“But… why?”

Although a hand wrapped in his hair is usually my thing—apparently, I have a preoccupation with pulling Lo’s hair and gripping his supple ass—but Lo’s hand tangles in mine and pulls my face back so we’re staring into each other’s eyes.

“Because I’m going to be holding your hand at the airport. Now that I get to have you for four entire months, I’m not taking my hands off you. Not even for travel. I want to have dinner with you and not care about who sees me kiss you across the table or feed you dessert. I want to take you for a walk on the beach and not be concerned with whether there are people around. It’s still important to me to just be a hockey player, as it is to you. But I’m not going to put this part of my life—our lives—on hold until we’re ready to begin the chapter of our lives without hockey.”

“Yeah, but…” I’m breathless, unsure what to say. My heart races. He did this for me.

Lo brushes my hair back, reminding me that it’s far too fucking long. “I don’t want you to think about anything but this: I’m 100% committed to you and this relationship, Caulder. You’re my soul, my life, and I’m so fucking excited to start living our lives together. I’m ready for the world to know because I don’t want to hide our love. I’m ready to shout it from the rooftop.”

“You’re corny as fuck,” I mutter.

He laughs, then brushes his lips to mine.

“You’re really that sure?” I ask. I think it’s hope that swells in my chest. Maybe a little fear that he’s going to say, well, mostly.

“I told you, Caulder. I know without a doubt that I’ve loved you in a past life. Everything about me recognizes you. I’ve crossed time to be with you again. I’d marry you tomorrow, Caulder Haines, and not have any concerns at all because I know you’re the second half of my soul.”

My laughter is watery. To be loved so thoroughly, so completely by someone… It’s intense. I don’t ever want to be without it.

“I don’t think we can get married,” I say because I’m so overwhelmed with every word that comes out of his mouth that it seems the easiest thing to address. “It’s too soon. Right?”

Lo shrugs. “Some may think so, but I don’t care what they have to say. I’ll marry you right now.”

My stomach flutters.

“I’ll marry you tomorrow. Next week. Next month. In two years. I’ll marry you every year.”

“I just… where would we get married? Our families are so far apart. Doesn’t it take time to plan a wedding?”

“Our families aren’t that far apart. Your family isn’t actually here in New York just as mine isn’t in Arizona.”

“No. Mine is in Northern California. Where in Canada is your family?”

“Just east of Vancouver.”

“That’s a lot closer than I was thinking.”

“It is,” Lo agrees. “As far as where… I keep picturing us on a beach during sunset. With the background of crashing waves. Wearing as little as possible so I can keep my hands all over you.”

I laugh, but I think there are stars in my eyes. “You’ve thought about this?”

He shrugs. “Yes.”

“I… Maybe.”

Lo’s smile doesn’t waver. He pulls me closer again, so our foreheads are pressed together. “There’s no pressure, Caulder. I’ve been sure about this since we left the airport in Florida when it felt like a piece of me was walking away. I’m looking forward to taking you around the world and building memories. Building you a house. Make you a daddy if you want.”

I flinch. Lo chuckles.

“No? Still scarred from crazy pregnant lady?”

“Yes. I wasn’t entirely convinced I wanted children before, but this has really put the fear of hell into me. But if you do⁠—”

“Don’t,” I interrupt. “I’ll be perfectly happy without kids.”

“You said you wanted one or two,” I remind him. “We had this conversation.”

“I did. You’re right. But my life won’t be lacking without one. We can have fur babies. You cool with that?”

“I am, but Lo⁠—”

He presses a finger over my mouth. “We don’t need to decide this right now. This is something we have years and years to talk about. We aren’t on a deadline.”

“But it’s important. It’s a big part of having a life together. This isn’t the same as picking out paint colors or what brand of milk to buy. If we don’t want the same big things, then it could be disastrous and lead to resentment and I don’t want to live through that. I don’t want to live through losing you.”

“Listen to me,” Lo says. “Do you know how many times I’ve fallen in love with you?”

My breath catches and I shake my head.

“Already too many to count. But I think the first time was when you trusted me with the secret you hadn’t told a soul; the words you’d never spoken out loud. Then you took on Azure during the games as if you were giving Max the best chance he had to win, knowing that Azure is a fucking beast—I fell in love with you again. As much as I really wanted you to sue this girl—and I’m really fucking relieved that you did—the fact that all you wanted was for her to go away made me fall in love with you once more. You didn’t want to punish her. Do you know how selfless that is? She caused you a month of misery. It affected your health, physically and mentally. And all you wanted was for the truth to be out there and for her to let it go and go away.”

“I still want that,” I point out. “I don’t know if that’s a reason to fall in love with me.”

“I don’t need it to be a reason you understand. I’m just telling you that I fell in love with you as if for the first time all over again. I fell in love with you when you told me that you weren’t going to settle for a love less than that of your parents. I fell in love with you when you slammed Menlo Dexter into the boards and skated away as if it were just another Tuesday.”

I laugh, but there’s no mistaking how teary I am now.

“I fall in love with you every day, Caulder. At least once. I’m going to spend my life with you. I want you far more than I want anything else. Do you understand?”

There’s no fighting the tear that finally falls. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Good. Now understand we’re different people and we’re going to want different things from time to time. Nothing at all is worth losing sleep over. We’ll discuss it and come up with a compromise we’re both happy with.”

“But you can’t compromise on something like a kid,” I argue.

He sighs and presses soft kiss after kiss against my lips until I’m smiling. “I need you to trust me when I tell you it’s not a deal breaker for me. Okay?”

I sigh. “Yeah.”

“Good. The only other thing I need you to know right now is that I had to reschedule some legs of our trips. We’re going to Greenland as planned, but then we’re going to head to Arizona for a week to pack my house before putting it on the market. I only have personal effects, so it won’t take long. I bought it furnished, so the furniture stays. Then we’re going to fly to Toronto to look for a house in the southernmost part of the city, the closest to you I can get. Hopefully, within a few months, houses will be sold and bought, and we can stop in Toronto again in August and unpack.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to be so close,” I say.

“I told my agent that I only wanted to entertain an offer somewhere on the East Coast. I didn’t care where. Nashville and north were preferable, but Toronto is almost too perfect.”

“I didn’t know you did all that.”

Lo shrugs. “Obviously we have no control over trades, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to make it known that I wanted to go east.”

Pulling my head back so I can look at him, I spend the next several minutes just staring into his eyes. All the things he said. The way he makes me feel. Can this really be real? Can I truly have found a love so perfect on my first try?

“What’re you thinking?” Lo asks, his fingers feathering over my jaw.

“That you can’t truly be real. Aren’t I supposed to have my heart broken at least once? Am I supposed to marry the first person I have sex with? Aren’t I supposed to want to fuck around or something?”

He laughs. “Do you want to fuck around?”

“No!” I insist. “But that’s the point. Shouldn’t I want to?”

“Well, we can role play. Then you can fuck the nerd or the biker or some pretty little lace baby, just to say you have.”

I laugh, shaking my head.

“There’s no rule that says you need to have your heart broken before you find the love you’re going to grow old with, babe,” Lo says. “I’m going to protect your heart and never let it break. Never let it bruise or chip or stop.”

“God, you’re trying to turn me into a blubbery mess, aren’t you?”

“That’s why I brought you flowers,” he teases, nodding.

I snort.

“As for marrying the first person you have sex with? I think that means I don’t have to compete against any exes,” he muses, thoughtfully. “It works out rather well in my favor.”

I laugh again, shoving at him. I shove a little too hard and he slips from the edge of the couch. Between his grip tightening on me and me trying to pull him back, we go tumbling onto the floor, laughing. Thankfully, all my clean towels are there to break our fall.

Burying my face in his chest, I continue to laugh. His arms tighten on me.

“We’re going to be just like this when we’re ninety,” Lo says.

“That means we’re always going to have lots of piles of clothes on the floor so we don’t break a hip when we fall,” I retort.

“Is that your way of telling me you don’t like folding laundry?”

“Oh no. I’d much rather fold laundry than nearly any other chore.”

“Noted.”

I sigh, letting my body relax as Lo’s fingers soothe through my hair. I couldn’t do better for a first love. I must be truly lucky to have found my soulmate on the very first try.

CHAPTER 36

LO

Four months later

“Just so you know, Ethan is now demanding we attend one of their Gay Gatherings,” I say.

Lo looks up, eyebrow raised. “Why?”

“Because we’re hanging with your new team today.”

He gives me a confused look. “I’m failing to see the connection.”

“Because there isn’t one.”

Shortly after we arrived in Greenland in May, PR douche Robert called and tried to tell me he signed me up for a Gays Can Play event for August. I told him he could cancel it because I won’t be paraded around as proof of professional sports’ inclusivity. I won’t be attending any of their events unless I volunteer for them.

The way he sputtered and tried to demand that I be a part of the Gays Can Play group was comical. Robert was psyched that nearly a fifth of our team is gay. It’s a big deal and all that. He ended the call shortly after I told him I didn’t give a fuck about what he considered a big deal. I’m a big deal because I’m good at my job. That’s it.

Then I had a conversation with Coach Melvin and reiterated where I stood. That’s not who I am, and I won’t be one of their showpieces. Coach laughed when I said I wasn’t going to be a showpiece. He agreed with me, though, so I think we’re all on the same page, even if Robert doesn’t like it.

Of course, the best moment I’ve seen yet is when I accompanied Lo to one of his summer charity events and we stopped to talk to the press. They threw a bunch of questions at him about the trade, his new team, and whether he was looking forward to the new season.

Then this little gremlin asked him, “How does it feel to be the only gay player on the team?”

Without pause, Lo shot back, “How does it feel to be the shortest man in this room?”

My eyes went wide. Everyone shifted, quieted, and glanced at the reporter who looked fucking shocked. Like Lo had just slapped him.

“Kind of rude to be asked a question that’s irrelevant in front of an audience, isn’t it?” Lo asks.

The way the media shrunk on themselves.

“Any more questions?” Lo asked. Crickets. “Good. See you at our first game.”

He took my hand and walked away. I was probably just as stunned as everyone else in that room. But man do I love to repeat the question. I hope I’m quick enough on my feet to think of something like that when I face the press. Unlikely, since my best comebacks don’t come to me until hours later. It’s a special kind of personality that can come up with a response on the spot like that.

Shortly after that, Lo had a video conference with his new coach and, like me, he made it clear that he’s not going to be their token gay guy. He’s not their new showpiece to advertise their inclusivity, either. The fact that he used my words had me grinning on the other side of the room.

Honestly, I think both teams will respect our position. I’m not sure if they understand why we feel this way, but I’m hoping in time more people will.

Lo pulls me against him, pressing his lips to my jaw. His teeth run along my skin before he gently sucks on me, sending chills through my body.

“You ready?”

I look down at my Speedo and snort. I’m always chubbed around this man so a Speedo feels like a really bad decision. But I love this one because of the way it fits around me. It does a remarkable job at containing my cock in a very flattering way.

It’s also got a lot of sentimental value, being the only article of clothing I wore when we got married on the beach last month. Yes, we did that. We have the tattooed rings on our fingers as a permanent announcement to the world that we’re married.

“We’re going to need to wear shorts too,” I point out. “Not sure this is the first impression I want to give your new team.”

Lo shrugs. “We can wear them, but I’m not swimming in shorts. I’m not sure who the self-conscious schmo was that decided men need to wear loose-fitting clothing in the water, but they’re not comfortable.”

I laugh. “Fine.” It’s not like I don’t disagree. Definitely do. I always feel tangled and like they’re hindering my swimming. Like something is wrapped around me, pulling me under the water.

“Have you talked to anyone from Toronto?” I ask while we’re slipping into shorts and shirts.

“Just Casey,” Lo says. “When he invited me over.”

“It’s cool that they included you, right?” I ask.

Lo nods. “I’m going to choose to believe that it is.” He turns to face me and holds up a key. “And when we leave there, we’re going to our new house.”

I grin. It feels too big and giddy.

The house Lo bought in Toronto is an hour and forty minutes from mine, door to door. But it’s still a commute we’ll have to work around, which makes it inconvenient at times.

So while we were driving from his new house to mine after he got the keys, we had the brilliant idea to buy a house halfway between the two. We closed on a house in Niagara Falls. Just a small place—single bedroom, only 900 square feet. It’s a stopping point where we can commute every day—fifty minutes. People do that all the time. Some people travel longer than that to work.

It’s a trial house. I feel kind of foolish calling it that—a trial living with my husband. But that’s not the part on trial. It’s the commute that we’re trying out. Neither of us has ever traveled more than twenty minutes from our homes to our respective arenas. Almost an hour could be really rough. Especially on late nights.

But we made a schedule with a spreadsheet and shit, noting which days we’ll meet in the middle. On the late game nights, we’ll likely stay at our own places. But for practices and shit? We’ll commute. It worked out that something like 60% of the time, we’ll be sleeping under the same roof. In the same bed.

I’ll be able to wake up to my husband most days during the regular season. There’s nothing better than that. Nothing.

We load the bags and bedding and shit we’ll need for our new house into Lo’s car and climb in. His new house in Toronto is pretty sweet. Very modern with sharp, clean lines and a spectacular view. He lives on a hill that affords him a beautiful panorama of the city.

The drive to Casey’s house is short. It’s massive.

“Do you think he has a big family like Meddy?” I ask.

“No idea. I know just as much about these men as you do, babe.” He puts the car into park and leans forward to look out his windshield at the big house. “But my frugal heart hopes he isn’t living in this big thing all alone. That’s ridiculously inefficient.”

I nod. We open our doors and step out. There are already more than a dozen vehicles there, parked in neat rows, evenly spaced. I wonder if they did that on purpose. Glancing at Lo’s car, I’m glad to see that he parked within the grid too.

Lo takes my hand and we head for the front door. We can hear voices and water splashing from the backyard of the house. The smell of grilled foods fills the air and makes my stomach growl. Lo looks at me and I give him what I hope is an encouraging smile.

His smirk in return makes butterflies swirl in my stomach, just as they always do.

The doorbell is loud and deep. It sounds like it belongs in a castle or a haunted mansion. I can feel the sound in my bones.

There’s always that awkward moment when you show up to someone’s house and ring their doorbell and you wonder, what if they don’t hear it? Then you’re left standing there awkwardly. Do you ring again? Do you walk away? Are the neighbors watching? Will they call the cops on me?

But the door opens. and I recognize Casey Wilcox. Buffalo has played Toronto enough times that nearly all their players are familiar.

“Hi,” Casey greets, smiling. “I know you,” he says, nodding his head toward me. “Nice to meet you, Laurent.”

Lo takes his proffered hand. “Lo,” he corrects. “But I’ll answer to Laurent, I suppose.”

Casey grins. “Come on in. We’re out back.”

We follow him inside, shutting the door behind us. The entryway towers three stories over our heads with a massive chandelier that I don’t want to stand under for long. That thing would kill me if it came down.

“This place is huge,” Lo comments.

Casey snorts. “Much bigger than eight guys need, but here we are.”

Lo and I exchange a look. Eight guys? he mouths. My eyes widen and I shrug.

The backyard is equally massive with an enormous pool, complete with a waterfall and a grotto. A lazy river winds around the entire backyard that sprawls so far into the distance, I can’t see it. There’s even an island in the middle of the pool!

There’s also an in-ground trampoline, a huge bounce house obstacle course that looks like it runs for miles. I hear engines coming from somewhere that sound like go-karts or something. Then there are the more adult things like an outdoor kitchen the size of our new house and a hot tub big enough for everyone here.

And there are a lot of people.

“Wow,” I say.

“Overboard?” Casey asked, amused.

“Maybe a little.”

He chuckles. “That’s Denali with the bright pink hair. Trying to drown him is Marcus. They are the nonathletes that live here. Otherwise, it’s me, Devon Hampshire, Nathan Ames, Yuri Andreev, Hudson Tremblay, and Austin Lavoie. Everyone else and their families don’t live here, but they’re teammates.”

“I’d ask if the co-housing is to save on money, but I think this place probably costs more than eight houses,” Lo comments.

Casey laughs. “Nah. Actually it started with me, Denali, and Marcus. We’re childhood friends. Grew up right down the road. We always wanted big, expensive toys, but on a single income—even mine—it was unreasonable. So we decided to pool our incomes. Over the years, we’ve upgraded as more guys liked what we were doing and here we are—ultimate bachelor funhouse.”

“And here we are, having just bought a tiny, 900 square foot house,” I muse.

Casey looks at me horrified. “Why? Please tell me they pay you more than that in Buffalo. And fuck if Toronto low-balled you, man.”

“No,” Lo and I answer together, laughing.

“We bought a tiny house in Niagara to split the commute. It’s a second house for both of us and we’re hesitant to invest in something bigger when we don’t know if we can handle the longer commute,” Lo explains.

“Ah,” Casey says. He looks between us for a minute, then his eyes drop to where we’re holding hands. “I’m impressed you hid this for as long as you did. Media are vultures. You have no idea the amount of supposed ‘blackmail’ we get threatening to expose our dick-lust cult if we don’t pay them just because we live under the same roof.”

He made air quotes for ‘blackmail,’ and I have to wonder what in the world they could be trying to threaten.

“Everyone wants a piece of you,” Lo says.

Casey looks at me again. “Indeed.”

The girl claiming I knocked her up in a nightclub disappeared eventually. Her accounts are deleted, and I haven’t created any new ones for myself. Personally, I’m enjoying the peace of not having social media to worry about. Sometimes Lo and I will lay in bed and scroll for a while together on his, but usually, it’s nothing I think about at all.

Sometimes I wonder about this lookalike in Philly. This girl was convinced that he’d been me. Hell, after seeing the picture, I was partially convinced I’d sleep walked and managed to fuck a girl. He was that convincing. Even in the low-lighting and at the angle he’d been in.

Maybe it was him. Did he ever come forward to claim the child? I’m not sure if I hope he did or not. On the one hand, it’s not the child’s fault that they were created under these circumstances. But on the other, I can only imagine a life dealing with that woman.

Casey brings us around, introducing us to everyone, and I do mean everyone. All the wives and girlfriends and kids. The entire team.

This is the first time being in a new group has given me a different kind of trepidation than I’m used to. Usually I have to give myself a pep talk, much like right before a game, but to remind myself not to look at other guys too long. To not give anyone any kind of indication that I’m anything other than straight.

Now it’s a little different. I’m out, and while that’s a relief on some level, I find myself worried about whether people are going to treat me differently. Will there be some discourse or nasty remarks? Sneers? Will I be made uncomfortable?

I’d known deep down that my team would be fine. We have three gay men in a poly relationship on our team and the support they get is humbling.

But Toronto is brand new for us. They’ve never had a gay player on their team. This could have gone very badly. And Lo didn’t know them at all either, so we really were walking in with blind faith.

Thankfully, we don’t appear to be treated differently than anyone else. Just how it should be.

I decide this is a good omen for our future together. Whatever that future looks like. Wherever we go. Whoever we meet. It’s going to be good. More than good. We’re going to live the lives we’ll want to tell our children and grandchildren about.

Hypothetically since I’m still not in a place where I want children. I don’t really see that future for me. But the more time I spend with Lo, the more I think that maybe having a kid won’t be so bad. He’ll be an amazing father. While I don’t have a lot of confidence in my parenting instincts, I know Lo won’t let me fail at that.

It’s not such a scary future.

When I turn around, it’s almost as if the universe is testing me. I pause, my breath catching in my throat as my eyes land on Lo holding someone’s newborn. I can’t look away.

I know what he means when he says he falls in love with me every day. Sometimes, I think it’s just an exaggeration of how he expresses his love for me. I’ve always thought that about my father too.

But looking at him holding this baby? My heart swells and I’m sure that I fall in love with this man all over again. This time, I’m aware it’s happening. It doesn’t sneak up on me. I can feel it happening as my love for him moves through my entire body.

A very surreal feeling overcomes me, and it feels familiar. Like I’ve been here before. In another time, another place. I’ve fallen in love with Lo a hundred, thousand times. Now it’s a hundred-thousand and one.

I can’t wait to fall in love with him each and every day for the rest of this life and for all the ones to follow.

WANT MORE CAULDER AND LO?

Thank you for reading about Caulder and Laurent. We’ve been waiting a long time for Caulder’s story and I hope it didn’t let you down! He was such a fun character to write and I love his HEA. Finally, my guy allowed himself to love! If you’re not ready to be done with them, you can sign up for my newsletter where you’ll have access to another scene in Meeting the Family. Access to this story will be granted once my newsletter goes out once a month so please be patient. There will also be an extra scene in my patreon, where you’ll find a whole lot of other goodies, including N/SFW art from this story soon!

Are there other characters that piqued your interest as you read this book? You can read more about them in my other books or those to come! I know we saw several cameos from characters from previous books but if you need a reminder or maybe a reread:

The Buffalo trio’s story (Ethan, Creed, and Jakub) is Starting Line.

Noah Kain (and Elixon Kipler) find their happily ever after in Lucky Shot.

Max Latham is dragged from his life of debauchery in The Crease.

You can read about Coach Adak Nemaczekk first in Shiver and then he gets his story in Coach Stare Down. 

You’ll see many more characters that have passed through these pages in more books to come! 

There are also characters that you’ll see in other series, too. This world just gets bigger and bigger with each book I write and each character that waves at me from the pages. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that so many of these side characters have already told me their stories!

Make sure you take a peek in the pages that follow for a glimpse into what you can expect within the books I’ve mentioned (and the next one to come in the For Puck’s Sake series)!

AUTHOR’S NOTE

This story slightly overlaps with The Defending Goal. Most of the meat of Felton’s story ends a month before this book begins but we’re in the same season, which is why we don’t see Felton at the All-Star Games. He’s still on ‘probation’ with his team from the adult content fiasco, however, Felton is a caliper of goalie that would definitely be at the All-Stars otherwise. 

As I mentioned in my note at the beginning of the book, I did a lot of research on the All-Star Games and watched many feeds from the events themselves, and I have to say, I’m very disappointed that they’re not somehow more inclusive of goaltenders in their skills competitions. I understand that they’re very different positions but the skills competitions for the 2024 All-Star game resulted in a $1 million prize for the winner. Goalies could not compete except as another drill to test the other players (which they were awarded $100,000 for the most goal attempts denied). It felt really ick to me and if I was further along in my hockey knowledge, I’d have somehow had the goalies competing in my book too. I mean, give the goalies their own set of skills competitions if there isn’t a way to make them inclusive. I acknowledge that they really can’t be inclusive. I can’t imagine the goalies moving around some of those obstacles in all their gear. But it’s really a slap in the face and this is coming from someone who has no stakes in it at all. How do the goaltenders feel?

To me, it felt like the NHL was saying, yeah, goalies are important and it's an honor to be here if you’re invited/voted in, but your skill is only worth a tenth of what a forward or defenseman is, monetarily speaking. So thanks, but we’re going to publicly acknowledge that you’re not as important by not making these competitions inclusive to show off your skills and only rewarding the top goaltender a tenth of the award amount that the others are in line to win.

Anyone else feel that’s dirty?

Okay, anyway…

I’m aware that end of the season trades usually happen during the draft but that didn’t fit into my story so I changed it up a little. It did take place at the end of the season for Lo, so I figured that’s close enough. 

Now, If you remember way back in my Shiver days, I promised you nine books. This is book nine. However, you might see that I’ve also listed a tenth book. That’s because there are still so many sweet or angry or resistant hockey players that need some lovin’. That means there are definitely a lot more books to come. However, I’m going to slow down on the For Puck’s Sake releases so that I can write some of the other books that I’ve either hinted about or readers keep asking for. Don’t worry - I’m not done with hockey. There’s still plenty more to come. Can you guess who’s next? There’s a very subtle hint on the very last page of this book! (Keep turning pages.)

FOR PUCK’S SAKE

This is a series of standalone MM(+) hockey stories with content not suitable for those under 18 years of age due to graphic scenes. These stories have character crossover but it is not required to read them in order.

Shiver available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Nerd/jock with a twist

Cruel games

Co-dependent hockey player

Sunshine and lovable

Bi-awakening

Hurt/comfort

Opposites attract

High emotion

HEA

Starting Line available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

MMM

Obedience

Caregiver

Sensation play

Voyeurism/Exhibitionism

Cuckold

Video sex

High emotion

HEA

Lucky Shot available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Gaming

Demisexual

Dollification

SLOW burn

Right in front of me

Collars

Dirty pics/videos

Absolute adoration/spoiling

The Crease available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Scandal

Hurt/comfort

Brat/brat tamer

Gay for you

Chaos hiding hurt

Edging

Possessive

Spanking

Wingman Score available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Rags to Riches

Hurt/comfort

Insta-infatuation

Serendipity

I’ll give you the world

Light sex toys

Mirror sex

Friendship

Struggle

Coach Stare Down available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Asexual representation

Age gap

Virgin MC

Low spice/slow burn (see ace rep)

Meet cute

Touch starved

Sweet

Light toys

Gaming

Cuddles

Check TW!

Stick Lessons will be available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Fast burn

Summer romance

High heat

Hidden identity

Secret relationship

Bi-awakening

Nerd/jock

Choking

Orgasm control

Feminization

The Defending Goal available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Teammates to lovers

Mental health

Loaning to friends

Slow burn

CNC

Power Exchange

Bi-awakening

PR nightmare

Just Winging It available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

All-Star Games

Forced Proximity

One bed

Rival players to lovers

Both deep in closet

Virgin MC

Long distance

Video sex

Social media drama!

Neutral Zone Trap will be available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Player x mascot

Bi-awakening

Virgin mc

Himbo jock

Social anxiety rep

Slow burn

Demisexual and demiromantic rep

Friends to lovers

Pining

Severely shy

Brief amneisa

FOR YOUR LOVE

This is a 4-book MM series with content not suitable for those under 18 years of age due to graphic scenes. These stories should be read in order.

For Your Time available on Amazon!

Within the pages of book one, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Sexuality exploration and discovery

Gay for you

Professor/student

Sugar Daddy

BFF twins crossing lines

Breath play

Cock warming

Pain play

Hurt/comfort

Breeding

Strict top/bottom roles

Co-dependent BFFs

Age gap

Gray asexual

Subspace

“Virgin” gay

“Inappropriate” friendship

For Your Heart available on Amazon!

Within the pages of book two, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Bondage

BFF twins crossing lines

Strict top/bottom roles

Co-dependent BFFs

Hurt/comfort

Twin bonds

Gags/blindfolds

Orgasm denial

Golden Retriever MC

First times

Begging

Hint at twin taboo

Cock cage/male chastity

Dirty talk

“Inappropriate” friendship

For Your Mind available on Amazon!

Within the pages of book three, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Shibari

BFF twins crossing lines

Strict top/bottom roles

Co-dependent BFFs

Hurt/comfort

Twin bonds

Impact play/pain play

Forced orgasm

Sleep play/dub con

Group sex

Nerd/jock

Hint at twin taboo

Cock cage/male chastity

Possessive/jealous

“Inappropriate” friendship

Sex swing

No condoms/lack of lube

For Your Forever available on Amazon!

Within the pages of book four, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Male lingerie

Role playing

Group sex

Public Sex

DP

Facials

“Loaning” & “Reclaiming”

Rough sex

Man-handling the big guy

Complete adoration

Insta-love

Hurt/comfort

Spoil/cherish

Femme male giant

Size difference

Poly/open relationship

Sex worker

VAN DOREN

NEW SERIES BEGINNING IN 2024

This is a series of MM standalones with content not suitable for those under 18 years of age due to graphic scenes. These stories have character crossover but it is not required to read them in order.

Loren available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Stalker

Psychopath

Touch aversion

Contract killer

Insta-fascination

Obsession

Touch him and die

RAINBOW DORSET UNIVERSITY

NEW SERIES BEGINNING IN 2024

This is a series of MM standalones with content not suitable for those under 18 years of age due to graphic scenes. These stories have character crossover but it is not required to read them in order.

Collide available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Enemies to lovers

Late 30s/early 40s

Coach x coach

Grumpy-sunshine

Size difference

Bi-awakening

Sneaking around

Secret Relationship

LONGWOOD U

NEW SERIES BEGINNING IN 2024

This is a series of MM standalones with content not suitable for those under 18 years of age due to graphic scenes. These stories have character crossover but it is not required to read them in order.

Rumor Has It will be available on Amazon!

Within these pages, you will find some of these tropes among others:

Next gen

Sex games

Bi-awakening

College

Friends with benefits

BOOKS BY CREA REITAN

MM NOVELS/SERIES

For Puck’s Sake

Shiver

Starting Line

Lucky Shot

The Crease

Wingman Score

Coach Stare Down

Stick Lessons

The Defending Goal

Just Winging It

Neutral Zone Trap (2024)

For Your Love

For Your Time

For Your Heart

For Your Mind

For Your Forever

Van Doren

Loren

Noaz (2025)

Rainbow Dorset University

Collide

Longwood U

Rumor Has It (2024)

Standalones

For I Have Sinned

POLY TITLES

THE IMMORTAL CODEX

Immortal Stream: Children of the Gods

Mortal Souls

The God of Perfect Radiance

The Hidden God

The God Who Controls Death

Gods of the Dead

Gods of Blood

Gods of Idols

Gods of Fire

Gods of Enoch

Gods of Stone

INFECTED FAIRY TALES

Wonderland: Chronicles of Blood

Toxic Wonderland

Magical Wonderland

Dying Wonderland

Bloody Wonderland

Wonderland: Chronicles of Madness

The Search for Nonsense

The Queen Trials

Veins of Shade

Finding Time

Neverland: Chronicles of Red

Neverwith

Nevershade

Neverblood

Nevermore

OTHER/STANDALONES

Hellish Ones Novels

Blood of the Devil

House of the Devil

Harem Project Novels

House of Daemon

House of Nereus

House of Aves

House of Wyn

House of Igarashi, 1

House of Igarashi, 2

House of Agni

House of Kallan

House of Malak

House of Darkyn

House of Savage (2024)

Brothers of Eschat

Unsolicited

Equipoise

Paranormal Holiday Novel

12 Days

Satan’s Touch Academy

A Lick of Magic

A Touch of Seduction

A Touch of Darkness

Fae Lords

Karou

Sweet Omegaverse

Alpha Hunted

Knot Interested

Omegas of Chaingate

Get Pucking Knotty

Standalones

Wrecked

Hell View Manor

Stroking Pride (A Sons of Satan Novel)

A Tale of Steam & Cinders

Terror

Haidee (A Ladies of MC Novel)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Crea lives in upstate New York with her dog and husband. She has been writing since grade school, when her second grade teacher had her class keep writing journals. She has a habit of creating secondary, and often time tertiary, characters that take over her stories. When she can’t fall asleep at night, she thinks up new scenes for her characters to act out. This, of course, is how most of her meant-to-be-thrown-away characters tend to end up front and center - and utterly swoon-worthy! Don’t ask her how many book boyfriends she has…

When not writing, Crea is an avid reader. Her TBR pile is several hundred books high (don’t even look at her kindle wish list or the unread books on her tablet). Sometimes, she enjoys crafting; sometimes, exploring nature; sometimes, traveling. Mostly, she enjoys putting her characters on paper and breathing life into them. Oh, and sleeping. Crea loves to sleep!

Note - Crea is an Amazon exclusive author. If you’re reading this ebook anywhere other than through Amazon, it is a pirated copy and has been stolen! Please don’t add to that. 

WHERE TO FIND ME

My Facebook page

My Patreon

By becoming a member of my patreon, you will be gaining access to exclusive stories, bonus scenes, first looks at cover reveals and projects, discounts on my store, swag, merchandise, and so much more!!

My Private Reader's Group: Crea's Godlings

This is an adult group. No drama. No judgment. No bullying, shaming, or being an ass in general. No one outside the group can see what you like, post, or comment so you're free to do as you please (as long as it's group appropriate - hot, half-naked men are allowed!). Here you will be the first to find teasers, new-release announcements, games, giveaways, and more!

My Instagram

@creareitan

My Amazon

If you follow me here, you'll get an email from Amazon every time I release a book! (Just in case you missed it in my group.)

Pinterest

Here you will find Storyboards for every book, which serves as inspiration for scenes, places, characters, etc.

Sign up for my Newsletter

Be the first to know about what I'm writing, what's coming up, giveaways, and more. And sometimes, I'll even put out a free book, exclusive to my subscribers! You’ll also be gaining access to newsletter exclusive stories, chapter by chapter, in every newsletter!

My Shop

Want a signed book? Or maybe some book merch, art, or author swag? Check out my Shop!

Want to be the first to read my books? Join my ARC team!

THANK YOU

I hope you enjoyed Caulder and Lo’s story. It’s been a long time coming and we’ve seen Caulder go from college student to professional athlete. He’s probably the character we’ve seen the most growth from since we’ve gotten to peek at him at different stages of his career over a few books now. I hope you enjoyed these characters as much as I loved writing them! Stay tuned for book ten- Neutral Zone Trap. Who’s your favorite hockey himbo?

Would you be so kind as to take a moment and leave a review? Reviews play a big role in a book’s success and you can help with just a few sentences.

Thank you!!

Crea Reitan