Page 108 of Playing the Pucking Game
“You don’t get to say things like that.”
“It’s true, though.”
“Fuck’s sake, Linc.”
“I’m sorry, can you just keep going? It feels better.”
I hesitate, questioning everything.
“Please. I need to play our next day.”
“Blackmail isn’t going to get you anywhere.”
“I just want to get back on the ice,” he pleads.
“Fine. Fine. Can you just…I don’t know, not talk?”
“Never been one of my talents.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“Just so you know,” he starts, and I squeeze my eyes closed because I know I’m not going to like whatever comes next. “I never put anything about you in a box and forgot about it. I never will, either.”
“Fuck,” I breathe, and when I open my eyes, I regret not putting an end to this sooner.
The bulge in his boxers is bigger than before. He’s…fuck.
I stumble back.
“I can’t do this, Linc,” I say, keeping my eyes downcast.“I’m your roommate and your trainer. I can’t…we can’t go back in time. We can’t be those kids again. What happened...it?—”
“No, we can’t. But we can be us now.”
A laugh bubbles out of me, and I finally look up. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his hair a mess, strands hanging over his face as he looks up at me through his lashes.
“You’re delusional.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” I insist as he pushes to his feet and stalks closer, although not before he sinks his hand into his boxers to adjust himself.
Fuck.
Heat descends through my body like an out-of-control inferno.
I went out tonight to get laid, and instead I ended up walking home in the rain.
And for what?
To end up even more frustrated by the man I’m currently living with.
Moving in here was a bad idea.
“Little P,” he says, closing the space between us.
My hand darts out, and I press my palm against his chest. It looks tiny compared to his huge frame.
But despite my lack of strength and small stature, he instantly freezes.
