Page 27 of Misconduct Zone

As his roommate, it would be normal for me to sit next to Lars. But since we had very different plans for these beds, I have to pick Ace for our sanity.

“Pull up the hit on Richardson,” Gray instructs. “Something’s off with that guy. Let me see how and where he got hit.”

“Something is vrong in his head,” Patrik grumbles.

“Agreed,” I say, annoyed by Richardson’s trash-talking of Lars as if he could outplay Lars.

We watch and Gray stands up next to the TV. “Can you go back and slow it down?” Lars uses his tablet to do as Gray asks. “See, right there. His leg collapses before he’s hit. Has anyone seen him use the leg press?” Gray’s in trainer mode.

“He’s not right,” Lars says, and it’s more than his leg issue.

“Hey, Lucky, tell us more animal facts about what a herd would do to a lame member,” Ace hollers like a smart ass.

“Fuck off.” I shove his shoulder, but my eyes won’t stop gawking at Lars.

This night is not at all what I had planned. I planned to blow Lars’s mind with the things I learned on the internet. Instead, I’m thinking of investing in tucking underwear to shove my bits away so they’re not on display when Lars’s penetrating blue eyes pin me with his stare. I use a pillow to hide my hard-on and pray the guys leave.

Chapter 16

Lars

Ican’t get our apartment unlocked fast enough after the team flew back tonight following our win. Thankfully, we do not have to spend another night in a hotel, unable to touch each other. The instant the door clicks shut, I slam Dylon up against it and fuse our mouths together.

He moans and I swallow it down, tasting his lust and grinding him against the door.

“I need you in my bed,” I say into his mouth. My desire has become a raging storm, building a frenzied obsession I cannot contain.

“I’m there.” He pushes me back, and his long legs rush down the hall, buttons flying everywhere as he strips off his shirt.

I’m steps behind and tackle him onto the bed so my bare chest covers his naked back, but we’re still wearing our pants. There are things I have to tell him before he gets naked and I get lost in his body. Confessions from my past so he understands my fears.

His breath hitches when we roll onto our sides to kiss. I have never been kissed the way Dylon owns my lips. He’s aggressive but sweet, as if he wants to pour all of his feelings into it. I could kiss him all night. The long wait for this seems trivial and well worth it.

His fingers play with my light chest hair and tickle my abs. He’s clearly unbothered by my body from the waist up, and my apprehension he will change his mind wanes.

Easing back, I lock eyes with him. “We should talk for a minute.”

“You are the worst.” His head falls back on the comforter. “Our team has cock-blocked us for days. Days! No more talking. I’m fine.”

“This is more about me than you. There is no turning back for me—especially after this.” This gets his attention, and his hazel eyes fill with concern.

“You won’t lose me.” He cups my cheek. “We won’t let that happen.”

“It’s happened before,” I admit, ducking my head, then steeling myself to say this to his face. “We were friends, but I was closer to his older brother. He playedfotboll, or soccer as you call it here, in the Premier league so even though he was a couple of years younger, he seemed older. Boe was pure sunshine and an incredible mix of innocence and worldly. He lit up a room and could talk to anyone. We saw each other during the summer in Sweden. The three of us would get together but rarely go out in public because we would attract attention. Then it was just me and Boe because his brother’s boyfriend would get jealous,” I say, and Dylon rubs comforting circles everywhere his hands can reach. I do not mention Von by name, unwilling to divulge his pain along with mine.

“One drunken night, we had sex and decided we would see each other whenever possible. We made promises that were impossible to keep. We played professional sports on different continents, and neither of us was out. His brother went through hell with the European gossip sites when he came out. We were idealistic and very foolish.” This story has been locked inside me for years. I have not told anyone this.

“I guess you’re not friends anymore.” Dylon’s palm rests over my pounding heart.

“I lost his friendship and him.” I keep the terrible details to myself. “Remember your rookie year when I left hours after our last game?” He nods. “He was my family emergency. Boe suffered an injury and refused to tell his family the extent of the problems. He said he trusted me, but looking back, I allowed him to make bad decisions and carry a burden of responsibility.”

Dylon places a soft kiss to my lips. “Thank you for helping me understand. Do I remind you of him? Younger, outgoing, super-hot,” he says, fluttering his lashes at me on the last words.

“I do not recall telling you he was hot.” I run my fingers through his hair, trying to smooth the indent from his hat. “You are very much alike in some ways but different where it matters.

“He told me his injury was getting better but he lied. He turned to pain medication to cope with the physical and mental pain. You are an open book.” The squawk in his throat is the only sign he does not like what I have said, and I pause so he can decide if he needs to talk.

“I’ve thought about drinking, and on my worst days, I’ve run through scenarios of where I could get more painkillers.” Shame washes over his face.

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