Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I didn’t even start the fight, so I only got five minutes and McGillan got ten, giving San Jose a power play that put us solidly in the lead.
Vegas is falling apart in frustration, and it fuels me. I mean, aww, poor Dex and Tripp. But no, seriously, this game is amazing.
It’s the best playing I’ve done in a while, and that’s saying something because I’ve got serious beard burn in my ass, and I always play great. The terrible practice is forgotten, and I’m at the top of my game. If only I could go out after this and celebrate the way I normally would.
Instead, I’ll be forced to behave myself with my watchful prison guard hovering. His promises of what will happen after will have to get me through. And as much as I might pretend to pout about it, I’m looking forward to blowing him again.
Dancing into the locker room after an epic win helps keep up my energy. Everyone is on a high, and even though we’d usually be going out as a team to celebrate, they all know I have other plans.
“Remember to thank Tripp for us,” Jarett says.
“Because that won’t rub salt into the wound or anything. They’re having a really shitty season. I’m going to go easy on him.”
“Really?” Jarett asks.
“Fuck no.”
We all laugh, but honestly, I won’t be gloating. The Collective is about supporting each other. Even if we sometimes might be overprotective of each other.
We cool down, shower, and dress, and Aleks approaches me, his face ashen. “I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” I look him up and down. “You look like you’re about to wet yourself. The Collective is a no-judgment zone. Well, unless you deserve it. Then we will rip you to pieces.”
“You’re making me feel so much calmer,” he deadpans. Then he glances around the locker room. “It’s not the Collective I’m nervous about. It’s …”
“Everyone else? You don’t have to tell anyone you’re not ready to.”
“Going out with you tonight instead of them might tip them off.”
I sometimes forget what it’s like to be worried about people finding out about me. I’ve been out for so long it’s part of my identifier. People see me as Oskar Voyjik: gay hockey player with all the depth of a fuckboy.
“Want me to text you Tripp’s address and we can go separately?”
He thinks about it but then says, “Screw it,” and turns to the team. “Hey, guys. I won’t be going out with you either. I’m going out with Voyjik.”
There are some confused glances, but it’s mostly shrugged off.
“Because I’m bi,” Aleks adds.
“That makes more sense than what I was thinking,” Rosky says.
“What were you thinking?” I ask.
“That your fifth PR rep abandoned you, and because Aleks is old and responsible and whatever, he’s been put in charge of your ass.”
In perfect timing, Lane enters the room as the press conference ends, and I can’t resist.
“I’ve already told Aleks he can be in charge of my ass anytime he likes.”
Everyone laughs. Except for Lane.
Mission accomplished.
“I still have my very own babysitter.” I gesture toward Lane.
“You know you wouldn’t need one if you knew how to keep your dick in your pants,” Jarett says.
“It’s a constant fight.” I reach for my fly.
Everyone’s used to my antics, so they turn back to their cubbies to finish getting ready to head out instead of acknowledging me. They all learned quickly that responding urges me on.
Aleks leans in close to me. “Can you please be there for every time I come out?”
I grip his shoulder. “I’m there for you anytime you need the focus taken off you and put on me. Just say the word. I’m good at causing a scene.”
“So I’ve heard. And … saw.”
I can’t be sure, but I think Aleks is referring to my awesome sex tape in the alleyway.
“Ready to head out?” Lane’s gruff tone sends shivers down my spine, and there’s no way I’m going to make it all night without claiming my prize. I want his cock in my mouth, and I’m going to spend the next few hours teasing him to move up his timeline.
I don’t want to wait until we’re back in the hotel room.
The three of us leave together and get a rideshare to Tripp’s apartment. He lives so close to the Strip, I can’t deny it was smart for Lane to come. What wasn’t smart for him was cutting me off so he could slide inside the car before me so I couldn’t sit in the middle next to Aleks, who got in on the other side.
I don’t think Lane realizes how much his jealousy act turns me on.
On the ride to Tripp’s, I widen my legs so our thighs are pressed against each other.
He glares at me, but hey, this is his fault. He voluntarily sat between two hockey players in the back of a Mazda 3. It’s cozy. Only made cozier by me taking up more room than I really need to.