Page 41 of Misconduct Zone

“I’m just sayin’ he’s got great taste in chocolate.” He turns his back on Patrik with a grin, knowing he’s an instigator.

Jamal hollers, “Zamboni,” and heads for the door.

“Thanks again for coming.” I chuckle as our confused teammates look from the closed apartment door to me. People trickle out after that.

Once everyone’s gone home, Lars pulls me toward his room. “You’re sleeping with me tonight unless you have an objection.”

“Nope. Not a single one.” I love his hands on me and don’t take for granted that I’m the only one he likes to touch. It reminds me I matter and am special to him. “Thanks for helping me put this together.”

“I didn’t do anything.” He takes my cap off and tosses it on the dresser.

“We both know that’s not true. I meant what I said. I’ve thanked you, but you’re my rock and there will never be enough ways to show you.” I’m beholden with gratitude.

“Then why don’t you get to showing me.” He tugs my shirt, and I raise my arms so he can pull it over my head.

“Oh, so it’s like that, huh? Now you’re gonna be all demanding.” My fingers find his skin under his shirt.

“It is nothing new. But it’s better knowing you like it as much as I do.”

“You know…” I unbutton his jeans. “We’re on a winning streak, so you know what that means?”

“Tell me,” Lars breathes in my ear, and I quake with impatience.

“We’re obligated to continue sleeping together and getting each other off before the games. It’s for the good of the team,” I say innocently.

“I will make that sacrifice,” he pauses, “for the team.”

Chapter 22

Dylon

“Isaid I was taking you out,” Lars grumbles as we walk out of the restaurant after date night. I’m laughing because I slipped the server my card to pay for dinner when a fan asked for our autographs. His grumpy face is priceless.

“Next time.” I sling my arm around him and continue to laugh as he frowns.

Then we’re blinded by flashbulbs. The paparazzi has been alerted, and we’re interesting clickbait since we’re winning, and roommates, and I came back from a questionable injury.

“Are you afraid your winning streak will end?”

“Are you dating?”

“Who got caught drunk at a strip club?”

“Is Mason Griffin feuding with his father?”

“Did Patrik Liska dump his fiancé?”

Five people hurl questions at us as we walk to Lars’s car.

Answering them will only lead to more questions and harassment, but unable to help myself as we pull away, I open the window. They’re so close I can touch them. “This stays between us, I’m pregnant with Lars’s baby, but I’m not due until after the season.” I cackle as they chase the car, and Lars guns the engine.

“We’re definitely going to be in the papers now. You should text Finn.”

“Worth it.” I take my phone out and alert Finn to the impending fake scandal. He sends me three emojis in response: a middle finger, an eggplant, and a pregnant woman. “He thinks I’m funny.” I throw my phone in my lap.

“Of course he does, darling,” he teases, but my insides turn gooey-er than Patrik’s chocolate lava cake when Lars calls me pet names.

We’ve decided about coming out. It’s a weird thing to have to do. I assumed for most of my life that I was straight so no announcement would be necessary. Straight is the default in the world, and it sucks that there’s a stigma if you’re different. When Patrik came out to us, Mason gave him an apology of sorts because Patrik felt an announcement was necessary. I didn’t get it at the time, but now I do.

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