Page 90 of Misconduct Zone

“I hope he feels the same when he realizes we once again did not follow the PR plan.” I grimace.

“Baby.” He tosses his phone, unaware the use of the nickname liquefies me so I conform to his body, seeping into him and melding us as one. “The man loves us. We’re brave and he’s forging a new path for the league. A kiss a couple of days early isn’t going to change that. We just sped the train along.”

“Kärlek, my love, we're on this ride until the end of time. I will never leave you."

When we wake, that kiss is on the front page of every paper and all over social media.

We let it speak for itself and don’t make a statement. We know our love is forever, and that’s all that matters.

Chapter 43

Caleb - Hours earlier

“Jesusmotherfucker.” I slump against the elevator, happy to escape Thanksgiving dinner. “They must hate me.”

“Caleb, no one hates you. It was an honest mistake, and we asked Dylon if he wanted the party to be dry. He said no. Accidents happen.” Mason bumps my shoulder in support.

“Yeah.” I sigh. Of course, of all the glasses, he had to pick up mine. He’ll be calling me Baby Benz for months after tonight, just to remind me I’m an idiot.

We’re silent for a few floors before he speaks at the ceiling. “I always thought you’d tell me first. That you’d want my help or advice.”

“I’m sorry?” It comes out a question because I think I hurt his feelings. That never once occurred to me.

Mason huffs a laugh and tips his head to look at me. “You never do anything the typical way, do you?” he asks but shakes his head as if he should have known.

I’ve somehow disappointed him, and I hate it.

“So tell me who made you realize you’re bi.”

And this is exactly why I’ve never told him. I would rather stand in goal with no pads or stick while the entire team fires a hundred pucks at me than have this conversation.

“You want to know who’s in my spank bank?” I ask, deflecting the question. “I love a big, muscly man. No twinks for me. I’m not worrying about hurting someone.” Although that stereotype broke when I found out what a fem top isand that Trevor probably manhandles Patrik, who’s twice his size. Maybe I’m a size whore. If only I could get out of my head and be a whore, I could find out.

“Like, who’s your current crush?” Mason presses.

I’m tempted to say “your mom” like a disgusting locker room joke, but he’s asking about a man, and if I substitute that with “your dad,” he’ll see the truth. I stare at him tongue-tied, and he gets fidgety.

“You can tell me. It won’t hurt our friendship. I promise.”

Holy fuck. Does he know? He can’t know. I scour my brain for any mistakes I’ve made, giving away the fact that I’m infatuated with his dad—like, posters on my wall, knowing all his stats, checking his social media, dreaming about him type of into him. Mason can’t stand his dad. He can’t know about my obsession. He’ll hate me.

“Tell me the truth. Is it me?” Mason asks, wide-eyed and sincere.

My mouth drops open, and my brain function screeches to a halt. “What?”

“I mean, you tell me everything. I know how often you fart and masturbate. I can’t think of another reason you wouldn’t tell me this. You know I won’t judge you.” He reaches for my arm but lets his hand fall away before he touches me.

My knees give out, and I sink to the floor, laughter bubbling out of me, overflowing in the tiny space.

“This isn’t funny.” He crosses his arms and scowls at me.

“I am so, so sorry,” I wheeze. “It’s not you. Wait! Are you into me? Am I being an insensitive asshole?” I straighten up in a panic.

“For fuck’s sake.” All the anger drains out of him. “Yes, you’re an insensitive asshole, but no, I’m not into you or guys at all. Unlike you, I tell you about the women I want.”

“Oh, right. Yeah.” I knock the side of my head, hoping it jars my brain back online. I’m always saying dumb shit.

“It’s just the longer you didn’t tell me, the more I thought you didn’t want me specifically to know,” he says softly.

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