Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“No. He … I don’t know if he’s a special kind of asshole or what, but he …”
“You don’t need to tell me. Seth told me enough.”
His hand finally drops, and I let it. “So out there … on the ice …”
“It was for you.”
“I didn’t ask you to do that.” His voice is so soft. So him.
“You never would,” I murmur. “Morris has to learn karma’s a bitch. He had no right to treat you like that.”
“Will you get in trouble?”
“No doubt.”
“You shouldn’t have—”
“Zach?”
His eyes meet mine.
“It was worth it.”
He stares at me like he doesn’t understand, but there’s appreciation there too.
I honestly don’t know what I’m doing when I lean forward and press my lips to his.
Blame it on excess energy. Blame it on adrenaline. Blame it on my lack of control.
I don’t know what’s at fault here. All I know is now that I’m doing this, I’m all in.
Zach doesn’t react at first, and while I want to push and try to coax him into kissing me back, I don’t want to overstep boundaries.
I pull back.
His eyes are dazed, his lips still pouted.
“Sorry, I’m all gross and sweaty, and—”
He’s the one who closes the gap this time. His mouth crashes into mine, maybe a little overeager.
His lithe body pushes closer, pressing against my hockey pads. My hand wraps around his back, and I curse my hockey gear right now.
I want to be closer. I want to feel him against me.
His lips are parted but not enough. I flick my tongue along the seam of his mouth, and he opens that little bit more.
I take the opportunity to dive in.
The strained noise he makes at the back of his throat goes straight to my cock.
My hand cups the back of his head as I move my tongue along his.
He lets me take the lead, my head swimming at the way he becomes pliant in my hands.
A moan escapes me.
He pulls back, but he doesn’t move out of my arms.
His lips are swollen, his eyes wide.
His mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to say something, but no noise comes out.
“Zach?”
The crowd’s cheers and screams from the arena filter down the hallway and into the dressing room.
He flinches. “What was that?”
“Period’s over. You better go. This locker room is about to be filled with a bunch of angry hockey players and coaches wanting to yell at me.”
If possible, his eyes widen more. He gets to his feet, a little wobbly on his legs, and rushes out of the room before my team barges their way in.
He’s gone so fast I can barely even process what happened.
I kissed Zach.
Zach.
“You can’t hit on him.” Seth’s words replay in my head.
My brother is going to kill me … if my team doesn’t do the job first.
Equipment is dropped to the floor, and the guys are sullen and scowly as they throw themselves onto the bench seats around me.
Coach comes in like a storm on a path of destruction. Like those tornados that seem to only target one house.
I’d make a joke about feeling like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz right now, but I know I’m in serious trouble and joking will only make things worse.
“Want to tell me what the hell that was about?” Coach yells.
“The best defense is a good offense?”
I think the vein on Coach’s forehead might pop.
“We don’t play dirty,” Coach says. “That was either personal or you’ve suddenly forgotten the rules of checking. So are you a selfish asshole who put your personal shit before the team, or are you a dumbass?”
Those are my only options?
I feel like this is a trick question. “Selfish?” That’s better than being a dumbass, right?
Coach isn’t having it. “You’re the captain! The team comes first!”
There are a million things I could say.
Morris deserved it.
Morris is an asshole.
This game doesn’t count for standings.
All of them would be the truth, but the only truth Coach cares about is much simpler.
“I lost my head.” I’d planned to target Morris, I won’t deny that, but it was supposed to be with legal moves. Then I got out on the ice and thought about how he had tormented Zach for whatever fucked-up reason, and all rules of engagement went out the window. I did lose my head, and I lost my cool.
“And now your team might lose the game because of it. Go shower. I’ll get the team trainer to look at the cut on your face.” He turns to the rest of the team. “Let this be a lesson about what not to do if you want to be on the first line on this team.”
Wait, what?
Coach turns back to me. “You’re sitting out the first game of the season.”
What the fuck?
The air gets sucked out of the room as the other guys gasp. If I were any other player, I’d get yelled at and that’s it.