Page 108 of Off-Ice Misconduct
“The way he smiled in there?—”
“Was because I told him the dirty shit I was gonna do to him when I got back, and he was half asleep.”
Bender does hate Shep, but apparently not his dick. Only … that look on his face. I don’t think it’s just lust. Great, he’s been dickmatized, hasn’t he? Happens to the best of us, I guess.
“Look, are we cool, Ace? I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“Yet you crashed in my fucking room.”
“We couldn’t exactly use the one I share with Huddy, and we thought you’d be with you know who all damn day.”
I get that pang again when he mentionsHuddy. It feels the same way grief does. Why? Why should I care so damn much? It’s their lives.
But I so wish Luke was balls deep in me, fucking this horrible morning out of my existence.
“No, brunch with my dad, remember?”
“Honestly? No. I don’t make a habit of memorizing schedules, but especially not your insane one. We thoughtsomeonewould be balls deep in you all morning.” He smirks.
I regret how much I’ve shared with them. And, um, I should probably tell Luke that Bender knows about us, too. That’s probably gonna buy me some more orgasm detention, but I couldn’t have Shep know and not Bend. Surely Luke will understand that?
Yeah, even I know that’s a definite no. He lives to spank my ass and sexually torture me. For some wild reason, I smile on the inside about that.
“I need a damn minute,” I say, charging past him.
I head back into the room and beeline for my gym bag. Normally, in this kind of mood, I’d be slamming pucks against the boards, but right now I need to punch something. Repeatedly. The heavy bag’s better than Shep’s face.
“You’re gonna wake him up, asshole,” Shep hisses.
Too late. Bender rolls on his back, rubbing his eyes. “Ace?”
“Go back to sleep, Bend,” I snap.
He exchanges a look with Shep. “He knows.”
“Ace we’re sor?—”
“Save it.” I sling the bag across my body, push past Shep, and stride out the door.
My hands shake, and my chest is too tight. My throat’s sore like I’ve been yelling, even though I haven’t. Can trapped screams still scar? All I know is I’ve got to get out of here before I collapse.
Hours later, my hands are so bloody and battered, Coach is gonna have words for me. But I can’t stop. The rhythm of my fists slamming the bag is the only thing keeping me together. The ache in my hands is sharp, real. Manageable.
It’s the silence I’m afraid of. The hollow feeling waits for me the second I stop.
It’s late, and there’s no one here. I’ve been drinking water but missed every meal since that stupid brunch.
“Mind if I join you, student who I think I remember from my class?” a familiar voice says.
I turn just so I can roll my eyes at Luke. “Of course,Professor. By all means.” He’s being ridiculous. Only hockey players have access to this gym—and Luke, I guess—but none of them are coming anywhere near here today. We unanimously agreed that today was a rest day due to pledge week. I wouldn’t be here either if I wasn’t so pissed off.
Luke sets his bag down. Goddammit, he’s so fucking sexy in those red gym shorts and that muscle tank. It’s oversized—don’t know how he found something oversized for his size—and shows off his arms, shoulders, and most of his lats.
Know what else is physical? Sex. It’s weird that I didn’t think about it earlier. Sex is totally the answer to all my problems. “Maybe we should take this?—”
“No. Check your phone.”
Oh.
