Page 36 of Puck Lust

My gut clenches.

This isn’t breaking news. Jack is openly gay.

Why the hell is he in the middle of a witch hunt?

True, we’re playing in one of the most intolerant states in the country, but it’s not like he hasn’t played here before. He traveled everywhere with the Renegades, so why is he being targeted now?

I wait a beat before ducking into the stairwell after him. I jog up the concrete steps, keeping him in sight. He suddenly stops short and twists around, fire in his eyes.

“What the fuck do you want, VK?” he growls. “I told you already, I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Yeah, and then you show up with your face smashed in and the next day someone tries to stone you.”

“You’re saying I can’t take care of myself?” His voice is laced with anger, jaw clenched as tight as his fists.

I shake my head, taking the remaining steps two at a time until we’re facing one another on the landing.

“I’m just concerned. We’re part of a team and that means?—”

“Look, I don’t need any of your ‘rah, rah, go team’ bullshit. What happened back in Oakland…” He looks away and tugs at his hair. “It’s shit I have to deal with. And today? Ignorant assholes. Not like I haven’t run into them before. I’m fucking fine. I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

“I don’t pity you, asshole.” I roll my eyes. “Trust me on that. I just want to make sure you’re okay. We’ve got a game to win and I want to make sure your head’s in the right place.”

The lies roll off my tongue because what the hell else am I supposed to say to the guy? He may come off as the Ice King, but he’s not the prick he believes he needs to be to protect himself.

I think someone hurt him. Badly.

And he’s got spiked steel bars surrounding him to keep out anyone who might give a shit about more than what he can do professionally.

Those bars only came down once in the whole time I’ve known him, and it was the night when he kissed me.

“My head is fine,” he says through clenched teeth, the vein in his neck throbbing as he glares at me.

“Is it?” I inch closer, his scent wafting into the air.

My brain screams at me.

Don’t do it. Don’t breathe him in.

But damn, it’s definitely me who’s the weak one.

I pull him deep into my lungs, my heart stuttering as his scent infuses me.

My pulse wobbles in my throat. Finding my voice, I rasp, “Because we have a big game to play today, and you need to bring it.”

With a flash of his eyes, he presses his hand against my chest. I’m sure it’s meant to keep me away, but the heat of his fingertips sears the skin right through my t-shirt and all I want to do it melt into his touch.

“Are you really just worried about the game, Carter?” he says, his heavy stare paralyzing my ability to breathe. “Or is something fucking with your head, too?”

THIRTEEN

jack

My brainshort circuits as our gazes tangle, heavy and heated in the empty stairwell, my unanswered question hanging in the air between us like a challenge Carter won’t accept.

Fuck, why does he have to be straight?

I want him to tell me that it’smewho’s in his damn head…that he came after me to finally admit that he feels the same way I do, that it’s the real reason why he didn’t want me to leave the bar last night, that after all these years, there’s still a spark between us that can’t be ignored anymore.

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