Page 71 of Puck Lust

“But I won’t.” I inch closer and bring a hand to the back of his head, stroking his neck until a moan slips from his lips. “And for the record, I didn’t sleep with you because I felt bad for you.”

“Then why did you?” His eyes fall closed as I drag my fingers through his hair.

A smile lifts my lips. “Because I like you, idiot. Did you even have to ask?”

He opens his eyes and smirks in response. “I like a good ego stroking.”

“And that’s not the only kind of stroking you like, let’s be real.”

A shadow suddenly eclipses his expression. “Don’t dick around with me, Carter. I don’t want to get in deep only to find out you’re not in it as much as I am.”

I shake my head and reach a hand around the back of hisneck. “I’m there. I promise. I just need a little time, okay? People are more open-minded now than they used to be, but I want to come out on my own terms and talk to my family and my agent and publicist first. They need to hear it from me before anyone else.”

My stomach drops into my skates.

This weekend would be a perfect time, if I was sure the news wouldn’t make Grandma face plant in her birthday cake.

“You should hire Rex Ashton. He reps a lot of us. He knows how to handle the press. And he’s gay, too.”

“He approached me at the event the other night. Gave me his card. I’d been stalking him because I need a new agent.”

“You should call him. He’s a great person to have on your side.”

“That’s a good idea.” I lean forward and brush my lips against Jack’s. “And for the record, I didn’t have a crush on you back then.”

“That’s a load of crap. Knowing what I know now, I was so right about you back then. You worshipped me like I was a god. I saw it. You stalked me, watched me on the ice for hours. That’s why I kissed you.” He winks. “And I was right. You wanted me.”

“You really are all about the ego, aren’t you?”

“Nah. Only like, ninety-eight percent.”

I force a smile as he turns to walk toward the rink. Following behind, panic bubbles in my chest. A few camera flashes have my heart thrashing.

Shit, what if…?

I clench and unclench my fists, the tight smile still stretched across my face as we pass the spectators.

Jack’s never had to worry about being accepted.

His ego wouldn’t allow him to care about what other people thought of him.

A cold chill spreads through my insides.

He only knows what it’s like to be indispensable.

As I watch the curious gazes sweep over us both, I think about what it’s like to have to fight for everything you want…

And how sometimes, when push comes to shove and you’renotindispensable, you have to let go.

TWENTY-FIVE

jack

“Sawyour game against the Flames the other day,” Brixton says, taking his guitar out of the case. “You guys looked good.”

“Thanks.” I lean against the wall next to the spot where Brixton sets up for his music students. Play It Forward is sports-focused, but when Brixton has time off from touring, he shows up here and a few of the kids will work with him on music.

I slant a glance at the front windows and the gaggle of photographers waiting for him to make an appearance.

---