Page 59 of Forbidden Puck
“No thanks,” I said in a perfectly polite and cheerful tone that I hoped was another dagger to his heart. “How was practice, Lance?”
“Ah, you know, it was just a morning skate, not a big deal. Except for … this guy!” Lance ran up and put Radar in a head lock. “Radar was a total scrub out there!”
That bit of information put a warm fullness in my belly.Ahh. Just desserts.
“You should've seen him, Ella. The guy must have some seriously weak knees after last night! That's why Coach always tells us, don't blow too big of a load the day before a game! You gotta save a little cum in your balls, or you won't have any legs left to skate!”
“That is so fucking gross,” I wailed.
Radar fought to get out of Lance's hold, and the two began to rough-house right in my area.
“Would you mind?” I asked, annoyed. “Last thing I need on this vacation is for you two jerks to knock me off this ladder and put me in the hospital.”
They separated.
Lance gestured down the hallway. “Well. It's about nap time. Shall we, Radar?”
“… Sure,” Radar said.
“Aw, that's cute,” I mewled, “but aren't you supposed to store up your cum for the game?”
“Shutup,” Lance whinnied. “You know I didn't mean it like that. Wealltake naps before a game, in our own beds, thank you very much.”
“I'm just giving you shit, like you would me.”
Lance walked off and made for his bedroom. But Radar stood in place, staring and watching me as I hung the curtains. I could feel his gaze on me but I didn't dare return it.
Lance called for him from down the hallway. “C'mon, Radar, leave Honey Badger alone and get some shut-eye, will ya? You obviously need it …”
Quietly, Radar exhaled and walked off.
***
An hour later, the boys were napping in their bedrooms and I was quietly eating a lunch-time snack and flipping through a magazine on the couch, when I heard a bedroom door crack open. Quiet footsteps followed as someone deliberately sneaked down the hallway. I waited, with an eyebrow raised, for what I knew what was coming.
It was him, alright.
“Hey,” Radar whispered as he lowered himself onto the cushion next to mine.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to know that I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“Last night. Making you lie to your brother today.” He sighed. “Everything, really.”
“Mm.”
“I went too far last night. I should've listened to you. You were the voice of reason, and you knew things would only get fucked up, and you were right. But … I couldn't help myself.”
A silence grew between us.
“Seriously, what can I do?” he asked.
“About what?”
“Aboutthis.I want to make things right. I hate that you're mad.”
