Page 102 of No Pucks

“That’s what Anthony said too,” I mutter, but Evander doesn’t hear me, because a couple of the guys come over.

Wolfe fist bumps my brother. “Don’t even fucking think about playing for the Monsters next year. We can’t let the player of the year in the youth league go to them.”

“No shit. Go anywhere else, but not to those bastards,” Archangel adds and turns to me. “You better fucking make sure.”

“He won’t.”

“I’ve been thinking about playing for you guys if your coach will have me,” Evander says softly, like he’s shy. He has never been shy a day in his life.

I roll my eyes, but the guys eat it up.

“He’s gonna want you. Who wouldn’t?” Savage butts in.

“Thanks, guys. Like I need my brother out shinning me on my own team,” I tease, winking at Evander so he knows I’m kidding.

“Shit, get better?” Seaborn says. “Every one of us gotta fight for our spot.”

“True dat.” I grab my phone as it vibrates in my pocket.

Anthony: I can’t believe you’re still out when my dick is waiting for you.

I groan.

Anthony: Reading my messages but not answering… Maybe I should play without you.

A photo comes through, and it’s his beautiful, tattooed knuckles wrapped around his massive cock. I quickly close the messages so no one catches a glimpse. His tattoos are easily identifiable.

I scrub a hand over my face and get up. I need to go taste my boyfriend’s dick. I say my goodbyes.

Ridgeway grabs me before I can escape. “Can we chat?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

He nods toward outside, and we step out of the bar.

“We got to keep an eye on my brother. He’s not doing well. I don’t know if he’s coming down with something or what, but if he keeps playing like this, we’ve got to talk to Anthony.”

“Shit. Okay. What is he sick with?”

“I don’t know. He gets sick a lot. He always has, but this is worse.” Ridgeway glances over his shoulder. “He can’t get kicked off the team, so we have to be careful what we say to Coach. He’s got one year left and no other way to pay for school.”

“Damn. Okay.” A lot of guys can only afford to be here because of scholarships. “How long has it been going on?”

“A couple of weeks. But it rarely lasts this long. He won’t snap out of it.”

“How can I help?”

He kicks the sidewalk. “I don’t know, but we have to get him back before playoffs so he doesn’t get dropped.”

“Have you taken him to the clinic?” I ask, wracking my brain for ideas.

“Twice.”

“Take him again. Maybe it’s mental. See if they can get him a therapist or something.”

His brow creases, but he nods. “That’s a good idea. I know sports psychology can fuck a dude up.”

“Absolutely. Worth looking into.” He claps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re a good dude. Have fun with your mystery boyfriend.”

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