Page 26 of Misconduct Zone

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t mean to imply he didn’t. I’m figuring things out and how the guys play.” He pauses with the bar over his head.

“You can come to any of us. Liska isn’t the most talkative guy, but he’s a team player.”

The rest of the workout is non-eventful, meaning my dick behaves. While we’re dressing, Lars leans down and picks up a plastic card that fell off the bench.

“Hey, you dropped your room key.” He holds it out, and I almost don’t catch the fact that he’s purposely giving me his key.

“What would I do without you?” I clutch it to my chest and bat my eyes so the guys assume I’m being extra, extra today.

“You’d be down at the desk, explaining why they need to re-key your room. Why don’t you get the app and do it on your phone?” Ace asks like a goddamn helpful asshole.

To change the subject, I blurt, “Did you know green tree frogs are vocal at night and sometimes sound like dogs barking?” The funniest part is no one is confused by my random thought. They’re used to it.

A few hours later, after scrubbing every orifice of my body, I grab the ice bucket and peek into the hall. Lars’s room is next to the ice machine, convenient to duck into if one of our teammates sees me.

We go into each other’s rooms all the time, except now it’s exciting and forbidden.

Voices carry through my door, and I wait until they fade and then wait a minute more. The hall is blessedly empty when I poke my head out. I’m almost to his room when the elevator dings, so I bolt into the alcove with the ice machine and fill the bucket.

Once I hear a door open and shut, I act like I’m a super spy sneaking around on a top-secret mission. A top-secret dick mission. An actual spy wouldn’t have a dopey grin but whatever.

The green light blinks as the lock disengages, but Grayson steps into the hall so I knock on Lars’s door like I can’t get in.

“‘Sup.” I turn away from him, probably sending up red flags.

Lars opens his unlocked door with confusion and gray sweatpants. He’s actively trying to kill me. His gaze runs over my face, stalling on my lips, andhis snug sweats can’t hide his reaction. I lick the lips that are the object of his focus, thinking about touching the outline that runs down his leg.

Behind me, Gray asks, “You drinking or hurt?”

Lars startles at his voice, and I’ve lost my capacity to say words. All the blood in my head has traveled south of the border to the little head. That head has no sense of self-preservation and wants to say hi to Lars.

“What do you mean?” Lars clears his throat and shifts, but it does nothing to hide his bulge.

“The ice.” Gray points. “What’s it for?”

For fuck’s sake, the goddamn trainer has to catch me with ice. “My balls are chafed. You want to take a lookie-loo in the hall for me?” I give a version of the truth since my balls are bluer than a Smurf.

As Gray freezes a few feet from me, Ace steps out of his room, and we’ve got a fucking party cock-blocking me. What does a guy have to do to sneak into his best friend’s room to get off? I groan in frustration and Lars smirks.

“Listen, I’m not ruining your twin plans so go about your business. You’re off the clock, Gray.” I step toward Lars, who doesn’t get the memo and obstructs my entry into his room.

“Why?” Ace whines in a very uncaptain-like way. “Why does this happen?”

He doesn’t need to elaborate since when he stops next to Gray, they’re wearing the exact same thing down to their socks.

“I thought you said you weren’t bringing the hoodie,” Gray accuses.

Ace turns so we can see his back. “This isn’t the hoodie. Wait, are you wearing the hoodie?” He grabs the back collar of Gray’s unhooded sweatshirt. “This isn’t a hoodie.” He rolls his eyes.

Gray sheepishly shrugs. “Oops, my bad.”

Lars finally steps aside, and I enter his room, but before he closes the door, Gray and Ace follow me. This borders on fucking harassment and torture.

“You guys vatching film?” Liska asks from the doorway.

Lars’s shoulders drop in defeat. “Yes, come in.”

The room isn’t big enough for five hockey players. Gray might be the trainer, but only because he blew his knee out and can’t play. He’s as big as the rest ofus. Patrik sits in the club chair, Gray pulls out the desk chair, and Ace sits on the unrumpled bed. I can choose to sit on a bed with Ace or Lars.

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