Chapter 21: Egotistical Puckboy: Chapter 21

I STRETCH OUT IN BED, so wrung out I have no idea what day, time, or week it is. I also don’t know where the hell I am.

Then I open my eyes and remember.

Oh. Right. Anton’s apartment.

We ran into each other at weight training this morning, and after watching him do squats for twenty minutes, there was no way I wasn’t following him home to get in a workout of our own.

Only, I must’ve passed out immediately afterward.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Anton says from somewhere in the room.

I open one eye a crack and roll onto my back, finding Anton in the doorway dressed in jeans and a Henley. “You’re wearing too many clothes. Come back to bed.”

“You slept through lunch.”

“That must be why my stomach’s rumbling.”

“Are you planning to go to Diedrich’s thing?”

“His kind of baby announcement party? He already has a billion children—why do we have to celebrate every time his wife gets pregnant? Isn’t that like throwing a party for getting laid?”

“Imagine if the gays did that.”

“Oh, they would never. Too many calories in cake. And you can’t have a party without cake.”

Anton plays with the hem of his shirt. “I was wondering if you wanted to go … maybe together.”

“Like a date?” My gut flips. “To a team event?”

“Like I’m paying attention, see? You want the team to know we’re friends, so I figured—”

“You figured going to a together screams friends?”

He huffs. “Forget it. It was just an idea. I’m here.”

“I would love to go with you. As your friend. But the team is definitely going to give us shit about it.”

Anton shrugs. “Let them.”

“What time do we have to leave?”

“In twenty.”

“Will they have food there? I’m starving.”

“Go shower. I’ll make you something to eat on the way.”

“Aww, thanks.”

“I’m not doing it for you. I’m sure they’ll have food there, but I don’t want to have to drive out to Chestnut Hill with you whining the whole time about being hungry.”

“You know me too well.” I roll out of bed and jump in Anton’s shower, and when I get out, I’m greeted with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Wow. Don’t outdo yourself.”

“Eat at the party. This is purely to stop you from complaining.”

I shove the whole thing in my mouth in under a minute. “Let’s go.”

“That was both horrifying and impressive.”

“I’m good with fitting a lot in my mouth, but you should know that by now.” I wink at him.

He doesn’t even fight me on that or call me ridiculous. I think this is what we call progress.

Anton’s relaxed on the drive out to Chestnut Hill, and I can’t help trying to make him crack.

“So, bestie …”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Bestie?”

“Well, we’re friends now. This is our friend date. And I have been looking for a replacement for West, so it all fits.”

“I’m not West’s replacement.” He pouts. It’s adorable.

“Ooh, do I sense a little jealousy there?”

“Not at all. I just refuse to be your fuckboy like West was.”

“You still worried about that? If it makes you feel any better, what West and I had was completely different.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, we actually liked each other. Never fought. Always fell back on each other because it was easy. It wasn’t—” I slam my mouth shut because I don’t know what was about to come out of it.

“Wasn’t what?”

I struggle to find any word that describes Anton. “

.”

“You think what we have is intense?”

“You don’t? You have to admit our sexual chemistry is off the charts. You can go head-to-head slinging snark back and forth with me without even blinking.” I pause. “You challenge me to be a better player.”

But I don’t say that part even though I kind of like it. “It’s the opposite to what I had with West. He was happy to come along for the ride. He was easygoing.”

“Are you calling me uptight?”

“Are you arguing that you’re not?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. I need to give him a bit more.

“You see through my crap and pick up on things I don’t even like talking about. I hate it and … I don’t.”

His gaze moves slowly from the road to me. Something in his expression relaxes. “Of course I challenge you. I’m better than you at almost everything.”

I laugh, relieved and unsettled at how easily he reads me. “You wish.”

“Excuse me, but who’s having the season of their life?”

“Whose dick is responsible for that?”

“Here you go with your magic dick again.”

“I was thinking I should approach a sex toy company. Get my bad boy molded for replication. I’ll call it the Good Luck Fuck. Guaranteed to improve your game.”

Anton sighs instead of enabling me.

“Yep. We’re definitely besties. You don’t even call me on my shit anymore.”

“It’s because I know when I’m wasting my breath.”

“I’ve been called a waste of breath many times.”

“

?” His jaw ticks.

“I’m a terrible person sometimes. I get under people’s skin. Even I know that.”

He pulls into Diedrich’s long drive, but it looks like we’re close to being the last ones to arrive. We park behind Larsen’s Bentley, and Anton turns to me.

“You are not a terrible person.”

“Because I’m an aweso—”

“Nope.” He pinches my chin and leans in, dark eyes locked with mine. “No joking. You an awesome person, Ez. And while we do this thing, you’re also person. If anyone says that shit to you, they get to face of us.”

I … have no idea how to respond to that because my brain has gone blank on the jokes. Hearing him say there’s an , as fragile as it might be, is sort of … nice. Actually, a lot nice. West and I always had each other’s backs, but in a way where we’d defend the other separately. Not together. I’ve always loved being part of a team. Is that what a relationship thingy is like?

No wonder so many of my friends have fallen victim.

Anton lets me go, and we get out of the car to approach the front door together.

Diedrich and his wife answer, and her pregnant-glowing face lights up.

“Anton! It’s nice to finally officially meet you,” Gretchen says and hugs him.

“You too.”

Then she turns to me. “Ezra. Always nice to see you.”

“Lies. Congrats on baby number …”

“Five,” she says, pulling a face. “I swear it happens after every road trip longer than eight days.”

That’s … information I didn’t need to know about my team captain.

“When are you due?” I ask.

“Somewhere around the Stanley Cup finals. Is it mean of me to hope you guys don’t make the playoffs so he’ll actually be present for this one’s birth?”

I automatically knock on the doorframe to avoid that bad juju.

“Hey, I was there for one and four, thank you very much,” Diedrich says.

“Is that their names? One, Two, Three, Four?” I ask.

“It’s how I remember them,” Diedrich says, but then his gaze flicks between me and Anton. “You two … came together? Or did you arrive at the same time?”

I throw my arm around Anton’s shoulder. “Together. We’re besties. It’s a new development.”

“Kill me now,” Anton mutters.

Diedrich steps aside. “That sounds about right. Come on in. The guys are already out the back.”

We walk past a group of women, some I recognize as other players’ girlfriends and wives and others I haven’t met before—presumably Gretchen’s friends. We give them a wave and head out back to the team, who are standing around the backyard, all with drinks already.

“Looks like we have some catching up to do,” I say.

Anton touches the small of my back. “I’ll get us drinks.”

I make my way over to Larsen and Kosik, but they too do a double take.

“Did you walk in with Hayes?” Larsen asks.

“What’s so wrong about that?”

“It’s you. And Hayes.”

Anton appears and shoves a beer in my hand. “We’re besties … apparently.”

“Hey, I’m just doing what team management asked. I’m playing nice.”

Kosik leans in closer to Anton. “Don’t turn your back on him tonight. This prank has to be epic.”

“Please. I am past all the pranks.” I sip my beer. “I am a mature adult.”

Everyone laughs.

“Fucking whatever.”

“Nothing says mature adult like muttering the words ‘Fucking whatever,’” Larsen says.

Apart from the initial comments about Anton and me coming together and having to defend that we have actually become somewhat friends—which we expected to face—Anton finally starts to relax around the team in my presence.

I take that as a good sign, but who knows how long it will last.