Chapter 15: Egotistical Puckboy: Chapter 15

MY PHONE RINGS in my pocket as we leave the arena for the team bus to go to the hotel. I don’t have to look at it to know it’s my dad calling again. I ignored his call after we lost Dallas because he’s been holding on to all the condescending ways he can tell me he for the whole summer. He’s probably bursting at the seams.

I step aside and answer, using the excuse I don’t have much time. “Hey, Dad. We’re about to get on the bus, so I can’t talk for long.”

“You allowed too many shots on goal tonight.”

Yes, because the entire reason Vegas scored four times was my fault and hockey is not a team sport or anything.

“I know.” My tone is complacent. I’ve learned over the years that if I agree with him, we get off the phone quicker. Getting into a heated argument never ends well, and telling him to back off makes him start on the whole “You don’t take constructive criticism well” angle.

“What are you going to do about it? You need to ask your coaches to run defensive drills. For some reason, you forgot the number one rule in defense. Always be between the player with the puck and the goalie.”

Coming from an ex-center forward, he really has no right to talk to me about defense. And maybe I’m bitter. Maybe he is trying to help. To bond with me. But why do I always hear from him when we lose? Can’t he praise me for once in his life?

And yet he doesn’t understand how I got the rage to be a better defenseman than forward. It’s a real mystery.

“Yep,” I say.

“Keep your eye on your opponent’s chest. Not the puck. That has always been your downfall since you were in junior league. You’d think the NHL would’ve beaten that bad habit out of you by now.”

I grit my teeth. “You’d think.”

Anton walks by me to get on the bus but pauses with a frown on his face. It looks like he’s about to ask if I’m okay, but I quickly turn my back on him.

“Dad, I really do have to go. Everyone’s on the bus already.”

“Do better. I didn’t spend my life savings building you up to be one of the greats for nothing.”

“Always good to hear from you, Dad,” I say dryly.

He ends the call.

I force down a steadying breath, trying to channel the fuckboy I’m known for being, and when I almost have it under control, I turn to climb onto the bus … and almost crash into Anton.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me for a moment. Then he reaches out and grips the back of my neck, steering me ahead of him. I think I’ve managed to avoid having to explain or talk about it when he leans in, warm breath in my ear, and says, “I’m sorry.”

When he lets me go, I always want to ask him not to.

I climb on the bus and throw myself in the first available seat, but by the time we’ve reached the hotel, I’ve shaken off the cloud of negativity. Over the years, it’s gotten faster and easier to block it out.

“I’m going to go sulk into a bottle of tequila,” Larsen says when we reach the lobby.

“Don’t write yourself off,” Diedrich says. “We have the game against Colorado in two days.”

“Sure thing, Cap.”

I nudge Anton. “I’m hanging out with Tripp and Dex again if you want to join.”

“What happened to your whole when the season’s on, everyone else is the enemy?”

“Queer collective loophole. We have each other’s backs no matter what.”

“Wait, is Dex—”

“Ha, nope. He and Tripp are just joined at the hip. It’s casual, not a queer collective thing tonight. There will be some rubbing it in our faces that they kicked our asses, but Tripp’s one of my closest friends, so we take advantage of what little time we have to see each other. Our whole group is like that.” If Anton is serious about coming out—he might not be. Telling one fan that he’s queer doesn’t mean he’s ready to hold a press conference, but I want him to know that he has support.

“I’ll come.” Anton doesn’t sound too confident, and I expect him to back out, but the offer’s there.

“Meet back here in ten? I’m gonna head up to my room and change into something less formal. We’re only hanging out at Tripp’s place.”

“What, no showboating around town? Do you feel okay?”

“Funny. But the last thing I want to do is show my face in public after that shitshow of a game.” It’s weird because our team has been all over the place, and I don’t think it has anything to do with how our opponents are playing. Whenever we’ve lost, it hasn’t been because the other team has been phenomenal, though I will say Tripp played the game of his life tonight. The only reason we didn’t score was because of him. But our last few games, there’s been a disconnect between the team when we’ve lost.

Like any time the score doesn’t go our way, I overanalyze everything. It’s hard not to because my competitive side makes me want to find a solution.

When I do the math though, I find a pattern.

We win on the nights after Anton and I hook up and lose on the games when we haven’t.

Interesting …

When Anton and I meet back up in the lobby, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him the only logical conclusion to our team problem is for us to have sex every single night, but that’s taking superstition a little too far. Even for me.

It might be a good excuse to carry on what we’re doing though. Minus the pranks. I didn’t think last night’s would blow up on social media like it did, though I should have known.

As we wait for our Uber to arrive in the Uber pickup bay, I feel Anton staring at me.

For some reason, nerves kick in.

I’ve gone totally casual in sweats and a hoodie unlike him, who’s in jeans and a T-shirt, but I can’t tell if he’s checking me out or judging my fashion sense. “What?” I ask.

“You’re quiet. It’s … unnerving.”

“I thought you said you liked it when I’m quiet?”

“I take it back. It’s too weird.”

I gasp. “Are you saying you like my loudmouthed ways?”

“And now I’m confused which is worse.”

I step closer, Anton actually laughing me, not me. “You okay with Dex figuring out you’re gay? Because even though he’s oblivious to most things, he’ll clue in to that. Tripp knows already.”

“Yeah. If they’re friends of yours, I trust them too.”

I’m not sure if he means to drop the part, but it floods me with unexpected warmth. People don’t trust me often. Trust me to have fun and say dumb crap? All the time. But outside of the Collective, people don’t trust me. Especially not someone I’m hooking up with.

A car pulls up, and I check the details. “This is us.”

“Where does Tripp live? Out near Summerlin like some of the other guys?”

“Nah, he’s off the Strip, overlooking the Wynn golf course. You’ll like it. It reminds me of your stuffy and uppity apartment back in Philly.”

Anton groans.

“Oh, sorry, must not be mean to the apartment.”

“No, you’ve reminded me I still have to find a place.”

“Nowhere meet your standards of pretension?”

“Exactly,” he says dryly.

We get to Tripp’s building, where the concierge waves us through to the elevators, and when Dex opens Tripp’s apartment door with a wide grin, I cut him off at the pass.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you won, we lost, wah, wah, wah. Dex Mitchale, you know Anton Hayes, right?”

“Only on the ice,” Dex says. “Hey, man.”

Anton lifts his chin.

“Where’s Tripp?” I ask.

“Getting drinks,” Tripp calls out from his bar area, and I follow his voice.

I round the corner and glare at him. “I only have one thing to say to you.”

“What did I do?”

“What didn’t you do? Seriously, how are you still single when you’re so fucking flexible? It was like watching a contortionist on ice tonight.”

Tripp preens. “I was on fire, wasn’t I?”

“Put that in your Grindr profile. Fill up your photo reel of game shots.”

“He doesn’t have a Grindr profile,” Dex says and then lowers his voice like he’s letting out a big secret. “I’m starting to think Tripp’s a virgin.”

Tripp gives him the finger. “Fuck off. I’m just over the whole hookup scene.”

“That’s why you need a boyfriend,” Dex says. “And to get a boyfriend, you have to use Grindr.”

The rest of us crack up laughing.

“Yeah, that’s not what Grindr’s for,” Anton says.

Tripp cocks his head at Dex. “Why would I want a relationship when I see what Jessica puts you through? Speaking of which, I’m surprised she even let you out tonight. Two nights in a row?” He mock gasps.

“Eh, that’s chicks though,” Dex says. “Guys all want the same thing. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I were gay.”

Anton scoffs, Tripp throws back a shot of dark liquid, and I sigh. Dex really is a walking himbo.

“Gay relationships aren’t much different than straight ones, dude.” I shove him.

“What would you know?” Anton asks. “Have you ever had an actual relationship?”

“Don’t go proving Dex’s point, asshole.”

“There it is,” Tripp says. “I was beginning to think we were in an alternate universe. For a couple of seconds there, I thought you two might be friends, and what in the world is that craziness?”

“I think Ezra invited me here to induct me into your weird club because I came out to a fan tonight,” Anton says. His voice stays steady, but I don’t miss the nervous way he swallows. It makes me want to protect him or some shit, which is new.

“Really?” Tripp asks. “That’s so awesome. I’m happy for you.”

“I think I’m happy for me too? Though, now all I can picture is it getting out and the media jumping on it even faster than this ridiculous bromance story they’ve got going with Ezra and me.”

“Oh, and the worst possible thing that could be said about you is that you’re in any type of relationship with me,” I say.

The three of them answer “Yes” at the same time.

.

“Let’s take this to the roof,” Tripp says and hands out our drinks. “On second thought …” He grabs the bottle of whiskey and brings it with us.

We head up his stairs and out onto his terrace. He has the penthouse, and the lights from the Strip give the whole place ambiance.

Tripp has outdoor couches and one of those small, automatic gas fire pits to sit around.

Anton sits next to me on a couch, Tripp takes the opposite one, and Dex throws himself in one of the single chairs and places his feet near the fire.

“Your shoe will catch fire again,” Tripp warns.

“Again?”

“He never learns,” Tripp says.

We talk and joke around for a bit, trading the kind of relaxed conversation I have with these guys. The problem is, I’m not used to having Anton stretched out beside me, and my gaze keeps straying to his powerful thighs. His arm muscles when he takes a drink. The dark way he watches me every time I open my mouth.

We trade smiles a lot for two people who supposedly hate each other.

Dex sits up suddenly, and I look for a fire to put out, but instead, his gaze moves between Tripp and Anton. “You two should hook up. It would be perfect.”

I almost choke on my drink. The way Tripp and Anton are avoiding eye contact is way too entertaining. It helps distract me from the way I want to point out Anton already has someone to hook up with.

“Can’t,” Anton says, turning his glass nervously in his hands. “I’m kinda seeing someone. Sort of.”

Where the usual hatred of any indication of a relationship is absent, the notion still makes me uneasy. Especially when Tripp gives me a knowing look.

Oh well.

Tripp knows that I hooked up with Anton and that I’m probably the guy Anton is referring to, but Dex has no idea. It cements the kind of bond and support we have in our group. Tripp and Dex are the best of friends, but our experiences as queer athletes will always be put first. It’s why I think Anton should be part of us.

“I actually had plans for him tonight,” Anton says.

“You did?” I ask.

“Mhmm. Booked a hotel away from the team and everything. But … he had other things to do.”

Tripp watches us, clearly amused, and I make a mental note to tell Anton that he’s not fooling anyone. Except Dex, which isn’t hard to do.

“Maybe he could come see you after he’s finished with his thing?”

“Depends on how long he’s going to be,” Anton complains.

I shift in my seat. “Check your phone. There could be a text telling you he’s done already.”

Anton takes out his phone, and of course there isn’t one there because I’m sitting right here. “Says here he’s ready to meet up.”

I stand. “Sorry to cut this short. We’ll see you guys when you’re in our neck of the woods.”

Dex fist-bumps me like he always does, and Tripp stands to give me the one-armed man hug.

“You guys are as subtle as a sledgehammer,” he says so the others can’t hear.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Tripp slaps the back of my head. “If you’re going, I’m gonna go to bed.”

“No,” Dex says. “Don’t make me go home.”

“You know you’re welcome to crash here anytime you want.”

“You just wanna wake up next to me again.”

Tripp closes his eyes briefly. “There’s plenty of space, so I don’t know why you always end up in my bed, but maybe you should think about why you don’t want to go home.”

“Because Jessica is there.”

“And you don’t think that’s a red flag?”

I drag Anton away. “Let’s go. They’ll be arguing about Jessica for a while.”

“What’s Dex’s deal?” Anton asks in the elevator.

“From what I can tell, he loves his girlfriend, but she’s … high-maintenance. I think she wants a ring, and she wants it bad. Wants to be head of the WAGs for Vegas and fights puck bunnies off with a stick. I don’t even know if she likes Dex or if she’s with him for the status. Dex doesn’t see her that way though. He doesn’t see a lot of things.”

“Like Tripp being totally in love with him?”

“Thank you. It’s obvious, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Do you really think he doesn’t know, or does he pretend not to?”

“Oh, he has no idea. I love Dex, I really do, but he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“The elevator doesn’t go to the top floor?” Anton taps the side of his head.

I laugh. “Exactly.”

I tap away on my phone. “There’s an Uber three minutes away, but I need to know where I’m going. You said something about a different hotel?”

“I did.”

Anton checks in while I wait at a slot machine and pretend to play. As soon as he heads for the elevator banks, I follow.

It all feels covert and over-the-top, but at the same time, the last thing either of us wants is for it to get out that we’re fucking around.

Anton has a reputation and standards to uphold. I … well, the only thing sleeping with Anton would do to my reputation is uphold it for being a fuckboy.

We’re silent on the elevator up to the room, and we both hang our heads as someone passes us in the hallway.

As soon as the hotel door closes behind us, I expect Anton to pounce on me, but he doesn’t.

“Want a drink?” he asks.

“I didn’t come here to drink, and neither did you.”

“I might need another.” He opens the minibar and takes out a baby bottle of Jack Daniels. He throws it back in one go.

“Need to be drunk to have sex with me now?”

“Nope. Just need a little liquid courage to ask you to top me.”

This is … different. “Should I be scared? You telling Tripp and Dex you’re seeing someone. Asking me to fuck you while being exclusive … This is—”

“Still an arrangement, you egotistical prick.” His smile takes the bite out of his words.

“Good. Because I really didn’t want to have to turn you down.” The scary thing is, even if this was more, I’m not sure I’d actually reject him.

Anton approaches and takes my hands, putting them on his ass. “You really think you could turn this down?”

I lick my lips. “Fair point, but I’m trying to figure out why you’re suddenly so open to giving it to me.”

“I figure if we’re going to keep hooking up, we should give each other what we want, and you’ve made it no secret you want my ass.”

“As hot as topping you would be, I’m not into pressuring people,” I say. “What do you want?”

“To keep doing what we’re doing. I haven’t had enough of you yet.”

“I actually have a theory, if you want to hear it.”

He steps back. “As long as you’re getting naked while you ramble whatever ridiculous shit is going to come out your mouth.”

“I did the math, and—”

“You know how to count?”

“So funny. You want to hear this or not?”

“Not, but you’re going to keep talking anyway.” Anton shucks off his shirt and then drops his jeans.

I do the same with my hoodie and sweats. “As I was saying, I did the math. Do you know we win games after we hook up?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was joking before, but I think I seriously have a magical dick. Because we win. Think about it. Last night, we didn’t hook up because you were too busy putting all your furniture back in your room.” The memory still amuses me. “Seriously, that was so fun to watch.”

“Your point?”

“We lost tonight. But we hooked up in Dallas and then won against Arizona. It’s legit.”

“So, you’re saying that hockey has nothing to do with skill and everything to do with us. Just how much do you think the world revolves around your ass?”

We’re naked now, and I pull him against me. “Tonight, everything will be about yours.”

Anton tenses in my arms, and when he looks up into my eyes, there’s hesitance there.

“Unless you actually don’t want to,” I say. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

He seems surprised by my answer, but he shouldn’t be. I may push and tease and throw things out there that I want, but never do my needs exceed those of my partner’s.

Even if he’s Anton Hayes. This thing might have started out with deep-seated animosity, but I think we can’t deny it’s grown to something that’s less like hate and a lot like … something softer. Harder to define.

He reaches between us and wraps his hand around my cock, stroking lightly.

I let out a shaky breath. Yep, don’t hate a thing about this.

“I want this,” he rasps. “But you need to go slow. It’s been a while.”

“Good thing we have all night then.” I grip his ass cheeks and squeeze. “Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”

He does as I say, and a thrill rushes through me at being the one in control tonight. I don’t always need it—sometimes I don’t even want it—but with Anton, it heightens everything. Probably because I know he’s so against giving it up.

His hole is exposed for me, and I want to dive right in, but then I remember—

“Supplies? I didn’t bring any considering you didn’t tell me this was your plan.”

“In my jeans.” He smiles at me over his shoulder.

“If you’d told me before we went to Tripp’s, I would’ve canceled on him.”

Anton lifts up, still kneeling, but his long torso is upright. “You were right though. I appreciate you taking me to hang with Tripp because I do need more queer allies in the league. When it does eventually get out about me, I’ll need that support.”

“The guys will have your back no matter what.”

“Does that include you?”

The question holds a lot more weight than the simplicity he’s phrased it with.

“I’m hoping to have your back and front.” I waggle my eyebrows.

“And afterward?”

After? Who knows.