Page 76 of Of Pucking Course

He wraps the towel around me and chuckles. He grabs another towel from the rack and dries himself off. He shrugs. “I like aftercare as much as I like being filthy.”

My chest squeezes. God, he’s perfect.

For a fleeting moment, I let myself think about what it would be like to feel like this every day. To be with a guy like Sam, who’s filthy and doting in equal measure. Who prioritizes my needs and my pleasure, always. Who actually enjoys making me come.

My heart bounces around in my chest. That would be my literal fantasy come true.

A second later, the rational part of my brain catches up.

This is just supposed to be a fun time, remember? Nothing more. You’re not interested in anything serious, anytime soon. You’re not allowed to catch feelings.

Disappointment flashes through me, even though I know I’m right. I can’t let myself feel this way about Sam.

He’s my brother’s best friend. His loyalty is with Del, always. As long as we’re together, we’ll always be a secret.

Which is fine for now, since we’re just having fun. But that’s why this could never, ever be anything more.

I push aside that disappointed feeling and all that chatter in my brain. I walk out of Sam’s bathroom and down the hall to my bedroom to get dressed.

When I walk back out to the kitchen to make breakfast, I spot a text message on my phone from my coworker Abby.

Bad news: the children’s museum just called me and said that a pipe burst and the place is flooded. We’ll have to cancel our class field trip there tomorrow.

“Oh no,” I say to myself as I type a reply.

Me: Oh my gosh, that’s terrible :(

Abby: Yeah, it is :( The guy I talked to said it’ll take at least a week to clean it up and sort out all the damage. The kids are going to be so sad. They’ve been so excited about this field trip all month

Me: I’ll try to think of something to do instead

“Everything okay?”

I look up and see Sam walking into the kitchen wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. They sit low on his hips, showcasing all that cut muscle on his body. I smile when I notice that all the drawings from his niece and nephew are still on his chest, their colors faded from the soap and water.

I swallow back the drool in my mouth and refocus. “Abby and I had a field trip at the children’s museum scheduled for our kindergarten classes tomorrow, but we have to cancel it.”

“That’s too bad. What happened?”

I explain the burst pipe and flooding.

I sigh and rest a hand on my hip. “I’ll have to think ofsomething else fun for them to do. But nothing will be as fun as the children’s museum.”

I start looking for other possible field trip ideas on my phone, but nothing sounds all that exciting.

“What if you bring them to the Bashers practice rink?” Sam says.

I look up. “What?”

“I could get some of the guys on the team to hang out with the kids. We could play games or just skate around,” Sam says. “It could be fun.”

“You really want to do that?”

He smiles. “Yeah.”

“This is your week off before playoffs start, though. You and the guys are supposed to be resting and taking it easy.”

He shakes his head and offers an easy smile like it’s no big deal. “It’ll be something fun for us to do before we have to buckle down and get serious.”

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