Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Your stuff is safe.”
That gets him on board. “Better be a good prank.” He takes out his wallet, grabs the room key, and pretends to drop it as he walks inside.
I’m quick to swipe it off the floor and leave. Back in my room, I grab my bag, sneak down the hall, and swipe into Ezra’s room. His Nike bag is right beside the closest bed, and when I drop mine onto the mattress and unzip it, I have to hold back a gag.
Sweaty hockey players are disgusting.
I pull back the covers and dump the contents onto the sheets. Jerseys and undershirts, a pair of pads, and … oh shit, someone’s jockstrap. I use my foot to kick it toward the pillows then lay out the damp towels over it all.
The whole thing is going to smell ripe by the time we’re done with dinner.
Perfect.
On my way back down, my phone vibrates with a text.
Ezra: Should I be worried about where you are?
Me: Just taking a dump.
Ezra: Now there’s an image I can jerk off to later **eye roll emoji**
I chuckle as I tuck my phone away and stretch my arms over my head. I have a feeling that jerking off will be the last thing on Ezra’s mind by the time he gets back to his room.
Thirteen
EZRA
All throughout dinner, Anton shoots me these looks I can’t decipher. Probably because he’s actually smiling at me. And not at something I’m saying or doing, but, like, just in my direction.
I think he’s broken.
When he gets up halfway through and heads for the restrooms, I count to sixty and then follow him as subtly as I can, but in the men’s room, he’s actually pissing, and so is Diedrich.
I didn’t even see Diedrich leave the table.
Damn, no hookup, then?
I don’t need to take a leak, but Diedrich is looking at me as he washes his hands with a confused expression, so I take the place next to Anton and think of waterfalls and running water.
Diedrich leaves, and I turn to Anton.
“I thought that was an invitation. You’ve been staring at me all night.”
“You think everything is an invitation. Someone breathes near you, and you try to hump them.”
“In my defense, nine times out of ten, I’m right.”
He slaps my shoulder. “Not this time.” He crosses the bathroom to wash his hands, and I do the same.
“Then when are we going to fuck again, and when can I get a turn at your ass?”
Kosik walks in, and fine, I get it, a bathroom hookup in the restaurant our entire team is eating at is not a good idea.
Anton starts in the direction of the door, and I follow him out. “Patience,” he says. “When we get the chance, we’ll take it, but after that game, I’m exhausted. I’m going to go back to the hotel and sleep in my big, comfy bed. I suggest you do the same. Big game against Vegas in two days.”
Anton gives me that weird smile again as he walks away, but it’s not until we get back to the hotel room that I’m able to decode it.
Kosik comes back when I do because he says he lost his room key, and as soon as I open the door, the stench of a thousand men assaults my nostrils.
Now, the smell of one or two sweaty men in a bed is hot. Especially when mixed with the scent of sex. But this?
I have limits.
“What the fuck did he do?” Kosik asks and lifts his shirt over his nose.
“Who? Wait, let me guess. Anton fucking Hayes.”
Everything looks in its place, except my blanket is less perfect than Kosik’s.
We approach the bed cautiously, and I almost gag as I pull back the covers to find wet towels and half the team’s base layer clothing everywhere.
“That smell ain’t coming out,” Kosik says.
“You’re the one who let him in here. You should give me your bed.”
“He said it wouldn’t affect me.”
“Didn’t think that one through, did ya, genius?” I pull off all the bedding and wrap the offending garments in the sheets and then chuck it all in the bathroom and close the door.
“I don’t think that worked,” Kosik says, still holding his nose.
I grab some deodorant from my luggage and spray that shit everywhere, while Kosik strips down and gets into his bed.
If either he or Anton thinks they’re getting off so easy, they’re sorely mistaken.
I get down to my boxer briefs and climb in next to Kosik.
He nudges me. “Sleep on your bed.”
“There’re no sheets. Also, hold still.” I curl around him and then lift my phone to take a selfie.
“That better not show up on any puck bunny websites,” he warns. “Unlike some people, I actually like getting pussy, thank you very much.”
“Don’t worry. It’s for a special someone.”
“Eww. Are you going to jerk off to a photo of me? I love you like a brother, dude, but I don’t want you plundering my booty.”